The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb: Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 12

by JB Lynn

  When class finally let out, I had a ninety-minute window before I had to work a shift at The Corset. I spent thirty minutes talking to Katie’s social worker, telling her that I was concerned that Katie was lonely. She referred me to a child psychologist, assuring me that Dr. Donna Tate could help. I called the good doctor’s office and due to a cancellation, was able to make an appointment the next day.

  Proud of my accomplishment, I pulled into the nearest fast food chain and rewarded myself with a greasy excuse for a burger and a large fries. In the interest of maintaining a healthy diet, I got a water instead of a milkshake.

  “What now?” God asked, from his spot in the cup holder.

  “I think I should go drive around the courthouse. See if there are any spots I could use to take out Lamb.”

  “You don’t really think you’ll find anything, do you?”

  I couldn’t answer since I was chewing a big hunk of processed meat, but I shook my head.

  “And you’re not going to use a bomb like Patrick suggested.”

  “No.” The idea of inadvertently hurting innocent people made me sick to my stomach.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I have no idea.” I glanced down at him. “To be honest, I thought you might come up with something brilliant.”

  “You think I’m brilliant?” The lizard stretched to his full height.

  Considering that he sucked at his favorite game, Wheel of Fortune, I didn’t want to lie to him. “I think you’re a problem-solver.”

  “Well, the problem is that he’s being protected by the police, including your part-time lover.”

  I choked on a fry. After spluttering, I wheezed, “He’s not part-time.”

  “He’s certainly not full-time. The man carries more baggage than a luggage carousel.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, so I took a swig of my calorie-free water, put the car in gear, and drove toward the courthouse. On the way, I told him about Armani’s disturbing sketch and her Scrabble letter prediction.

  “Maybe the drawing means you’re going to be hoisted by your own petard,” God mused.

  “What?”

  “You know, whatever weapon you choose to use on him, will end up backfiring and will be used on you.”

  I frowned. “So a petard is some kind of sword?”

  “No. It’s a gunpowder weapon used to burst open doors.”

  “Well, that would make sense if I was going to use a bomb,” I agreed slowly, “but I don’t get how you made the leap from the picture to that conclusion.”

  “Gut instinct,” he said seriously.

  I frowned. I knew the Lamb job was dangerous, but if the lizard was right, I might end up seriously hurt or worse. Then what would happen to my niece?

  “I should name someone as Katie’s guardian.”

  “What?” It was the lizard’s turn to sound confused.

  “Who will take care of her if something happens to me?”

  “Who do you want to take care of her?”

  I bit my lower lip as I mulled that one over. “It’s a lot of responsibility, so Susan would be the logical choice, but she’s already done so much raising me and my sisters. I don’t think Loretta or Leslie is up to the job. That would leave Marlene…” I trailed off, thinking that I didn’t know whether Marlene was even capable of taking care of herself.

  “There’s only one solution,” God opined.

  “Her other relatives?”

  “You want the child raised by a mentally unstable woman?”

  Realizing he thought I was referring to my mother, I couldn’t resist teasing, “Could she be that much worse than me?”

  “Yes!”

  I chuckled. “I meant one of Dirk’s relatives.”

  “Absolutely not,” the lizard shouted so loudly that it hurt my ears. “There’s only one solution.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You can’t let anything happen to you.”

  Easier said than done.

  I drove around the courthouse, seeing that it was surrounded by office buildings that housed over-priced lawyers and restaurants that catered to the hungry masses. There were no obvious vantage points.

  I’d almost given up finding an “in” when I spotted them.

  “Holy cow. Would you look at that?”

  I pulled to a stop to study what I saw.

  The lizard scrambled upward so that he could perch on the dashboard and see what I saw.

  Except he didn’t.

  “What on Earth are you looking at?”

  “Why did the cow and the chicken cross the road?” I quipped as two people, in animal costumes, danced along the sidewalk. One carried a sign for a newly opened barbecue place, while the other offered passersby free samples of food on toothpicks.

  “Camouflage!” God declared excitedly.

  “Or at least a disguise,” I agreed.

  He puffed out the orange flap of skin beneath his chin self-importantly. “And it’s the equivalent of flesh on a sword.”

  “What is?”

  “The food samples. They’re meat on a stick.”

  I nodded slowly. Armani had done it again. “Now all I have to do is find a chicken costume and figure out how to kill Lamb while wearing it.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aunt Loretta was helping customers when I got to The Corset, so I dashed between the racks of lingerie as I made my way to the back of the store.

  Once I got to the storeroom, I busied myself with unpacking the day’s deliveries, a collection of sex toys, most of which I’d never even want to try out.

  “Hottie in aisle four!” Loretta yelled out, letting me know that there was a customer who needed help.

  “Bite me,” I muttered beneath my breath.

  “That’s a terrible attitude,” God lectured from where he hung out in my bra. “Retail is all about customer service.”

  “I thought it was about location.”

  “That’s real estate.”

  “Shhh,” I ordered, emerging from the storeroom and pasting a smile on my face.

  “Hottie in aisle four!” Loretta bellowed again.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming,” I muttered.

  “I doubt that,” a deep, gravelly voice murmured.

  I looked up to find Jack Stern watching me, amusement dancing in his gaze.

  I blushed at the crime reporter’s innuendo. “What are you doing here?”

  “Shopping?”

  “Erectile aids are in aisle six,” I snapped.

  He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the store.

  Loretta looked over and beamed approvingly, pleased that a customer appeared happy.

  I smiled back at her weakly before returning my gaze to tall, dark and handsome.

  “Seriously, Jack. Why are you here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  “You know I work here,” I reminded him. Earlier in the month he called the shop, insisting we had to meet, so that we could discuss the fact that Templeton was in danger.

  “I heard on the police scanner that a body was found at your place.”

  “And you’re looking for an exclusive scoop on the story?”

  He scowled slightly. “Actually, I was worried about you.”

  “So you showed up to see whether I was alive and well?”

  He leaned against a rack of lace thongs. “I wanted to find out what you’ve got yourself into this time.”

  Realizing his concern was genuine, I felt guilty for snapping at him. “There was no body. Just a dead chicken.”

  “A chicken?”

  I shrugged. “A temporary pet.”

  “And it died?” His nose twitched as though he could smell a story.

  “It was killed,” I admitted.

  “By your dog?”

  I shook my head. “Not unless she figured out how to snap the bird’s neck and leave the body on top of the coop.”

  He frowned. “So it was a message
.”

  “It would appear that way.”

  “From who?”

  I shrugged.

  He moved closer. “But you have an idea?”

  I considered whether it would be wise to confide in him. On the one hand, the last thing I needed was someone sniffing around my business. On the other, he did cover the local crime beat so it made sense he’d know the town’s cops.

  While I considered my options, he moved closer. “Do you think the message was aimed at the Delveccio kid living with you?”

  I blinked, surprised by the question. “He’s not a kid. He doesn’t live 'with' me. He lives 'at' the B&B. And no, I don’t think it had anything to do with him.”

  “Templeton then?”

  I shook my head.

  “Who then?”

  “Tell him,” God urged.

  Jack looked down at my squeaking chest and then looked away.

  “Is it true that people who commit crimes often show up to the crime scene?” I asked.

  Jack’s gaze bored into mine. “It’s been known to happen. Who showed up?”

  I held my breath, searching his face, trying to decide whether I could trust him. I glanced over at Loretta who was enthusiastically modeling a pair of fuzzy handcuffs.

  “Kevin Belgard,” I whispered.

  Jack rocked back on his heels. “Maggie, I don’t think--”

  Worried that he was a friend of Belgard’s, I interrupted with, “I shouldn’t have said anything. It was probably just neighborly concern, but I was paranoid after being woken up by Aunt Leslie’s screams. I mean, have you ever been sound asleep and heard that kind of thing? Let me tell you, it gets the adrenaline going and messes with--”

  Jack held up a hand to silence me.

  I snapped my mouth closed.

  Leaning closer to me, he whispered, “What I was going to say was that I don’t think you should mess with Kevin Belgard. He’s…” He searched for the right word. “He’s not a good guy. Not someone you want to make an enemy of.”

  I stared up at Jack, at the worry pooling in his eyes and the concern scraping his tone and I knew I’d alarmed him.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything,” I repeated weakly.

  Jack shook his head. “I asked. You answered. Now answer me this.”

  I waited for his question, nervously.

  “How did you end up on his list?”

  “List?”

  The reporter glanced around to make sure there was no one close enough to overhear. “It’s rumored that Belgard has a list of people who have pissed him off.”

  I gulped.

  “Be careful, Maggie.” He turned, walked away a few paces, and then spun around and strode back to me. “Be very careful.” He kissed my cheek and then rushed out of the store.

  Loretta looked at me inquiringly, but I ignored her and returned to the storeroom.

  I wasn’t back there three minutes, when Loretta yelled, “Red hot hottie in aisle two.”

  “What now?” I muttered.

  “No grumbling,” God reminded me.

  I stalked out into the store, ready to dispatch with whoever was waiting in aisle two.

  Angel was waiting. He looked decidedly uncomfortable in the midst of all the virginal white lace. He’d crossed his arms over his chest and was staring at the floor.

  “Is something wrong?” I hurried toward him. “Did something happen to Katie?”

  Raising his head, he held up his hands defensively. “Take it easy. Everything’s fine. Katie’s good. She’s working with Ronnie as we speak.”

  I relaxed a little, but not a lot. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.” He glanced over at Loretta who was ringing up her customer. “Privately. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  “I’m taking a break, Aunt Loretta,” I called out.

  “You just got here,” she pouted, batting her fake eyelashes.

  “It’s my fault, Loretta,” Angel said with his most charming smile. “I’ll only steal her away for a minute.”

  A gleam, that I recognized as my aunt’s matchmaking look, brightened Loretta’s gaze.

  “I won’t be long,” I promised, rushing out of the store with Angel at my heels.

  The sound of Loretta harrumphing indignantly followed us.

  “What’s up?” I asked as soon as we were outside.

  “I talked to my uncle about Detective Belgard.”

  I glanced up at him sharply. “Why would you do that?” The last thing I needed was the mob boss knowing I was having a problem with a cop.

  “Because you seem afraid of him and I wanted to know if there was a reason. I mean, most people are afraid of my uncle, but not you, so why does this Belgard guy get to you?”

  “And?” I found myself saying, wondering what he’d learned from the mobster.

  “He’s a bad guy,” Angel said.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “No. He’s the kind of cop my uncle wouldn’t cross, if you get my drift.”

  I nodded slowly. I knew his uncle, the mob boss, a lot better than he thought I did, but even if I hadn’t, knowing someone like Delveccio considered Belgard bad news would have disturbed my peace of mind. “So he could have had something to do with Darlene’s disappearance.”

  “About that.” Angel shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “Susan says that Darlene is dead.”

  I nodded. “That’s what they say.”

  “And you don’t believe it?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part.”

  What else could I do? It wasn’t like I could tell him that I’d communicated with Teresa, the sister I knew for sure was dead, and that she’d insisted that Darlene is alive.

  “But you said she disappeared,” Angel prompted.

  I shrugged. “She disappeared and then we were told she was dead.”

  He tilted his head and squinted at me as though he was judging my lucidity.

  “I’m not crazy,” I said defensively.

  “I know. I know,” he soothed. “It’s easier to think of someone as gone, rather than dead. I’ve done it myself.”

  “You have?”

  He nodded, a pained expression settling onto his face.

  “If you want to talk about it…” I offered awkwardly.

  Before he could respond, Loretta screamed, “Stop! Thief! Don’t let him get away!”

  A young man, carrying a case of flavored condoms, raced away from The Corset. Loretta, teetering on stilettos, chased after him.

  “Stop!” Angel roared, joining the chase. He took off at a dead run.

  “Loretta, stop before you hurt yourself,” I yelled, running toward her. But I was too late. I watched her trip and fall in slow motion, as the thief and Angel rounded the corner disappearing from sight.

  If her twin sister’s screams had frightened me earlier in the day, Loretta’s absolutely terrified me.

  “Don’t move,” I called as I ran toward her.

  But she didn’t listen to me. She thrashed wildly on the ground, grabbing her ankle while emitting eardrum-shattering screams of agony.

  As I drew nearer, I saw why.

  “Shit,” I said, speeding up.

  “What is it?” God demanded to know from his hiding space in my bra.

  “The bone came through the skin at her ankle,” I panted, dropping to my knees beside her. I tried not to look at the wound for fear it would make me sick.

  Grabbing her shoulders, it took all my strength to pin her to the ground. “Don’t move,” I shouted. “Do you hear me, Aunt Loretta? You can’t move. You’re going to make things worse.”

  “It hurts,” she whimpered. “It hurts so much.”

  “I know. I have to go inside and call 9-1-1.”

  She clutched at my arm. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’m not,” I soothed. “I’ll be right back.”