Maggie Lee | Book 25 | The Hitwoman Owes A Favor

by Lynn, JB

  Considering he’d probably heard that from Gino, it wasn’t smart to deny it. Nodding, I tasted the pudding.

  “You got any leads?”

  I considered telling him the theory my father had floated about Leonard Klugman having purchased property under his wife’s maiden name, but then thought better of it. There was no guarantee it would pan out and would just put more pressure on Mia. “Not really,” I answered honestly.

  “You find him, you bring him to me,” Delveccio ordered, jabbing his spoon in my direction for emphasis. “You don’t call the cops. You don’t tell that friend of yours. You bring him to me.”

  I surveyed the area, making sure nobody could overhear our conversation. If people saw us together we’d fall back on our story that we’d bonded while waiting for the kids to wake up from their respective comas. “I’m not good at transporting people,” I said carefully.

  “Then call Gino,” Delveccio snapped. “He’s excellent at it.”

  It was unusual to see Delveccio so intense about a job. I wondered how much money Klugman owed the mobster. I didn’t ask. I just ate my pudding in silence, enjoying the sweet, creamy goodness.

  “Assuming he survives the surgery, I’ll put a guard on your father.”

  “You don’t have to—” I began.

  He held up a hand to silence me. “I look out for your family, Maggie.”

  I nodded. “And I’m grateful, but Archie’s a different story.”

  “He’s not family?”

  “Of course he is, but you don’t owe him protection.”

  The mobster squinted at me. “One of the reasons I like you is you’re not entitled. You don’t expect anything except to be paid for the jobs you do. This is part of the payment for doing those things.”

  I bowed my head. “Thank you.”

  Silence stretched between us until he asked, “How’s your mother?”

  I glanced up and saw that he was focused on fiddling with his pinky ring. “Doing better, overall.”

  “That’s good. And Katie’s enjoying her cousin?”

  “Alicia,” I murmured, even though I had no doubt he knew her name.

  He raised his gaze to meet mine. “Griswald did a good thing reuniting the kid with her mother. I take it Marlene’s enjoying motherhood?”

  I nodded slowly, unsure of where this conversation would go.

  “He bent a lot of rules, called in big favors, and stepped on some toes to do it.”

  “Did he?” I asked, genuinely surprised. Griswald is such a straight-and-narrow guy that it hadn’t occurred to me that he’d done anything questionable.

  “You thought it was normal to be deported to another country without a trial?” he asked.

  I shrugged. I hadn’t thought about it.

  “You think that’s what got him shot at?” Delveccio asked.

  “How should I know? I was kept in the dark about Alicia the whole time.” I tried to keep the bitterness from my tone. It still stung that Griswald hadn’t trusted me enough to let me know it was my own niece I’d been working to save.

  “And yet you managed to save your niece and help our mutual friend with the biggest drug bust of the year.”

  I held my breath at the mention of Detective Patrick Mulligan. Gino must have told his boss about my time working at the game center, too.

  “It’ll be challenging to protect Griswald,” Delveccio revealed. “Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “He leaves the compound. He stays, he risks the safety of Katie, Alicia, and everyone else. He goes to his place, and everything gets less complicated.”

  “You want me to convince him to leave?”

  Delveccio chuckled. “You won’t have to convince him. He’s not a stupid man, and like me, he’s spent a lot of time protecting your family. He’ll retreat to that perfect little house of his he still owns. I just don’t want you to try to convince him to stay. It’s safer for everyone involved if he leaves.”

  I frowned, not liking the idea.

  “Only death is permanent,” the mobster reminded me. “You should go be with your family.”

  Accepting his dismissal, I got to my feet. “Thank you,” I murmured. “For everything. Without you…”

  He looked away, embarrassed. “Get outta here.”

  I left the cafeteria and headed back toward the Emergency Room waiting area. I was about halfway there when I spotted Gino lurking. He wasn’t really lurking, he was standing in front of an awards case pretending to read the plaques.

  It wasn’t a surprise he was there. He seemed to always be around.

  I tripped over my own feet as a realization hit me. Losing my balance, I fell forward. In an attempt to stay upright, I reached out, grasping for something to hold on to. I grabbed a wire display rack, but it wasn’t sturdy enough to hold me up. The rack and I fell to the floor in an undignified clatter, sending pamphlets about sexually transmitted diseases everywhere.

  Startled by both the realization and the fall, I lay there, gasping, trying to make sense of it all.

  “Did you hurt yourself?” Gino asked, hurrying to my side.

  I stared up at him, unable to speak.

  The only one who hadn’t asked what had happened at the cemetery was Delveccio.

  If Gino was always watching, did he know who had shot Griswald and my dad? Or had it been him?

  12

  “Maggie?” a voice called.

  I turned my head to see Ian hurrying toward me, worry shining in his eyes.

  “What happened?” my brother asked, kneeling beside me. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  While he talked, Gino slipped away.

  “I’m…I’m fine,” I assured my brother as I struggled into a sitting position. “I tripped.”

  He surveyed the damage of pamphlets littering the floor. “You don’t do anything small.”

  I chuckled as he helped me to my feet. Together, we righted the rack and began to pick up the pamphlets.

  “They’ve taken him up to surgery,” Ian revealed.

  “Did Thurston get to talk to him?”

  “Yeah. And they’re discharging Laurence.”

  “Well, that’s one bit of good news,” I muttered, sticking sex ed brochures into their holder haphazardly.

  “The aunts are all leaving. Templeton’s taking Loretta and Leslie and the nephew is taking Laurence and Susan.”

  “Fantastic!”

  Ian glanced at me curiously, surprised by my enthusiasm.

  “It’s better that Griswald isn’t stuck in a car with the bickering sisters,” I explained hurriedly. Which was true, but I was also relieved the detective was leaving. I was tired of his questions and I had plenty of my own.

  Finishing our half-assed clean-up job, we walked back to the Emergency Room waiting area together. There was no Gino in sight.

  Templeton was ushering the twins out when we arrived. They didn’t notice our return, but he did. He winked at me as he practically shoved them through the door.

  Aunt Susan, looking a lot less fragile than the last time I’d seen her, was pacing impatiently. I took that to mean she was convinced Griswald wasn’t going to die. She stopped when she saw me. “He wants to see you.” Then, she strode away, calling “Nurse!” with the kind of authority that scared me into behaving as a teenager.

  Ian sat down beside Thurston, who was staring glumly at the floor. “Can I get you anything?”

  Thurston shook his head. “He looked so weak.”

  Ian nodded, and I got the impression that he’d heard this concern before. “The doctors are doing all they can.”

  “But will it be enough?” Thurston asked, hanging his head. “Archie’s always gotten himself into scrapes, but this…”

  I swallowed the painful lump that rose in my throat. His concerns magnified my fears about my dad’s condition. I wondered if I’d made the wrong choice not going in to see him.

  “Margaret,” Aunt Susan called gently.

  I blinked
away tears as I turned toward her. She ushered me in the direction of a waiting nurse who led me down a short corridor to the room where Griswald sat on the edge of a bed.

  I knocked softly and he beckoned me inside.

  “Close the door,” he ordered.

  I did as requested and offered him a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

  “Worried,” he answered honestly. “I understand your father’s in surgery.”

  I nodded.

  “Did he tell you why he wanted to meet with me?”

  I shook my head. “Just that he had some information that would get him a good deal.” I grimaced. “You know Archie, always looking for the next big score.” I tried to sound exasperated about my father’s shortcomings, but it came out sounding bewildered.

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry you got hurt because of him,” I said.

  “We don’t know it had anything to do with him,” Griswald replied.

  “You think it’s connected to your case?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t talk about it with you. Did you stick to the story I asked you to tell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even with Brian?”

  “Especially with Brian.”

  He grinned. “See, having a touch of Archie’s larceny isn’t all bad.”

  I managed a weak smile, remembering how Delveccio had said that Griswald had crossed some lines regarding my niece. “You don’t think it was Alicia’s father, do you?”

  He looked surprised. “That hadn’t occurred to me as a possibility.” He stared at me for a long moment. “Susan and I aren’t returning to the compound. We’re going to stay at my place for a bit.”

  I nodded. Delveccio had guessed correctly.

  “If I had my way, Susan wouldn’t be coming with me.” His tone was rueful. “If someone is after me, I want to keep everyone else safe. But you know how your aunt is.”

  “A force of nature,” I sympathized. No wonder Aunt Susan had looked so much stronger. She’d rallied as she’d battled poor Griswald about where she’d go when they left the hospital.

  “With me there and your father here, the danger to the rest of the family should be minimized,” he continued. “Law enforcement will patrol the area, but it won’t hurt to stay alert.”

  I nodded my understanding.

  The nurse came in to finish his discharge, and I rejoined Ian and Thurston in the waiting area. Susan was still pacing.

  “He was so pale,” Thurston said sadly.

  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” Ian asked as I sat down across from them.

  I shook my head. “No thanks.”

  The oppressive silence that weighs down on people who are waiting for news in a hospital seemed to suck the air out of the space. It made me tired, and I closed my eyes. A mistake, because in doing so, I remembered the blood spreading as Griswald had applied pressure and how ashen Dad had looked before he was loaded on the ambulance.

  He wasn’t a young man. Could he survive being shot?

  I had my problems with my father, but he was my dad and I didn’t want him to die.

  Susan and Griswald left, and Ian, Thurston, and I sat in a depressed, worried silence for who knows how long, waiting for news about the surgery. Then, Armani arrived.

  “Hey, chica,” she called, getting my attention.

  I’d been counting the dots in the flooring and was surprised by her appearance in front of me. “Hey.”

  “I need to talk to you,” she announced. She was holding a travel mug and staring at me intently.

  I patted the seat beside me. “Go ahead. We’re just waiting.”

  “Outside.” She jerked her head in the direction of the door.

  I hesitated.

  “Go,” Ian urged. “Some fresh air and a change of scenery will do you good. If anything changes, I’ll come get you.”

  “Listen to your brother,” Armani said, gesturing with the mug for me to follow her.

  I grudgingly got to my feet. Limping, she led me out of the hospital. The second we were outdoors, she handed me the mug. “I brought you something that might help.”

  I eyed it suspiciously. It felt unusually light. Armani has a habit of making weird, okay, downright disgusting, food combinations and I wasn’t in the mood to be made sick. I sniffed it, but smelled nothing.

  “Open it,” she said, eyes glittering with excitement.

  I could tell she was proud of whatever concoction she’d brought me. “I just finished a big drink,” I lied.

  “You don’t drink it,” she guffawed.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said.

  “You don’t eat it,” she told me. “Just open it.”

  Gingerly, gritting my teeth to prevent myself from retching. I unscrewed the top and peered inside.

  “It’s about time,” a voice boomed.

  I was so startled I almost dropped the cup.

  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to travel in a darkened echo chamber? I’m suffering from sensory deprivation.” As he complained, God clambered up to the lip of the mug.

  I was so glad to see him that I kissed his head.

  “Sensitive skin!” he bellowed.

  “Sorry.” I tipped the cup so that he could scamper onto my palm.

  “I thought you might want him for company,” Armani said.

  “Thank you.” I kissed her cheek and she didn’t yell at me for the affectionate gesture. My eyes misted with tears at how thoughtful she had been.

  “You didn’t die,” she remarked as God ran up my arm and did a swan dive into my bra.

  “Not yet.”

  “And your dad?”

  I shrugged. “They’re working on him now.”

  “I’m sorry. What happened?”

  I winced at the question. Not just because I was tired of lying about the answer, but because it was a reminder of who had not asked the question.

  “Yes, what happened?” God asked.

  Armani looked amused by his squeaking.

  “And is the rodent okay?”

  “Oh god,” I moaned.

  The lizard flicked his tail impatiently. “Yes, that’s me. Did you hit your head or something?”

  “I have to go back to the cemetery.”

  “Not a good idea, chica,” Armani warned.

  I nodded, knowing she was right, but I still had to do it.

  13

  The police had driven me to the hospital, so I had to borrow Ian’s truck to get back to the cemetery and retrieve the mouse.

  “I need to borrow your truck,” I told my brother, who was sitting beside a worried Thurston.

  He looked surprised.

  “Please,” I added, holding out my hand so that he could hand me the key.

  “Now?” he asked.

  “Now.”

  “She left Benny in Griswald’s car,” God told him from his hiding spot in my bra.

  Thurston didn’t react to my squeaking chest, but Ian nodded his understanding. Like me, he can talk to animals. Still, he made no move to hand over the key.

  “You should take her,” Armani suggested. “I’ll stay with Thurston.”

  “You’re a good friend.” Ian smiled at her, getting to his feet.

  “I am,” she agreed, plopping into the seat he’d vacated.

  “We’ll be back as soon as we can,” I promised.

  Together, Ian and I hurried out of the hospital.

  “He’s going to be traumatized,” God predicted as he scrambled up to my shoulder. “Left alone in a dark, cold, unfamiliar place.”

  “I know,” I muttered.

  “Abandoned,” the lizard continued.

  “Thanks for that.” I climbed into Ian’s truck. “I wasn’t feeling guilty enough.”

  “You had a lot going on,” Ian soothed as he started the engine. “Your dad was shot. Griswald was hurt.”

  “Griswald was hurt?” God asked.

  “I thought you were all-knowing,” I mocked.

&
nbsp; “Armani told me your father was injured. She didn’t mention anything about Susan’s husband.”

  “Can she talk to animals, too?” Ian asked as he pulled out of the hospital lot.

  “Everyone can talk to animals,” God told him. “Few can converse. Armani was considerate enough to tell me why she was removing me from my terrarium.”

  “That was nice of her,” Ian said.

  “But it left the dog in a tizzy,” the lizard complained. “I’m guessing the crafty feline knew what was going on, but she didn’t tell us, and rightly so. Upsetting the drooling simpleton was not the best idea.”

  I winced as I imagined how worried DeeDee probably was.

  “Now, tell me, what happened to Griswald?” God demanded.

  “He hit his head during the gunfire,” I explained. “It’s nothing too serious.”

  “Gunfire?” God squeaked. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I was in—” I snapped my mouth closed, realizing that to be compliant with Griswald’s wishes, it probably wasn’t a good idea to let Ian know I’d been waiting in the car.

  “Was in what?” my brother asked, glancing at me curiously.

  “Ummm…in…” I flailed.

  “In a state,” God proclaimed. “I mean, who wouldn’t be in a state among a hail of bullets.”

  Ian nodded, accepting the explanation, and I felt a surge of gratitude toward the lizard, who must have known I was hiding something but had chosen to provide a cover story.

  We spent the rest of the ride to the cemetery in silence. As we rolled through the gates, I began to direct Ian to Theresa’s resting place, but it soon became obvious where we were headed. The spotlights of crime scene technicians practically turned the night to day.

  Ian approached slowly and parked the truck a distance away. He rolled down the windows and put both hands on the steering wheel as two uniformed officers, hands hovering over their guns, approached.

  “What are you doing here?” the older one called, approaching Ian’s side of the vehicle.

  “I left my pet mouse in Marshal Griswald’s car,” I replied.

  Disbelief flickered over the faces of the cops.

  “You’re worried he’ll freeze to death,” God coached.