by Lynn, JB
“It’s cold,” I told them. “I’m worried he’ll freeze.”
“And who are you?” the cop asked.
“Margaret Lee,” I answered formally. “Marshal Griswald is my uncle.” I left out the part about the shooting victim being my father.
“Well, I’m sorry, Miss Lee, but your mouse is part of an active investigation and isn’t going anywhere.”
He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded smugly self-important, like he was enjoying keeping me from Benny.
“Do you think he pulled the trigger?” I snapped without thinking.
A pained expression crossed over Ian’s features and he squeezed the steering wheel.
“Your girlfriend has a smart mouth,” the cop complained to him.
“She’s my sister,” he responded in a carefully measured tone. “And she’s had an upsetting day. She’s just worried about her pet.”
“You ask me, a mouse is a pest, not a pet,” the other officer piped up.
“Miss Lee,” another voice said.
I twisted around, searching for the familiar face that went with that voice. The redhead was standing beside my window.
“Detective Mulligan,” God coaxed.
“Detective,” I murmured, following his lead.
“I got this,” Patrick told the uniforms.
Shrugging, they turned and walked away.
He gave Ian a nod of greeting before his eyes searched my face. “How’s your father?”
“In surgery,” I replied.
“And Griswald?”
“Discharged. Only a bump on the head.”
Patrick nodded. “You’re here for the mouse?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled. “It freaked out one of the crime scene techs to find it in your purse, so I put the little guy in my car. Give me a sec.” He strode away.
“Does he know you talk to…excuse me, converse, with animals?” Ian asked.
I shook my head. The less I said about Patrick, the better off we’d all be.
“You have an interesting set of friends, Maggie,” my brother mused.
Considering he’s dating a medical examiner that moonlights as a mob doctor (not that he knows that), I didn’t think he was one to talk.
“I appreciate that you left Thurston to bring me out here,” I said, wanting to change the subject.
“Yeah, well…there’s nothing I could really do besides wait with him.”
Patrick returned, my dainty little handbag dangling from his fingers.
I flashed him a grateful smile as I took it from him. With trembling hands, I opened it and peered down at Benny’s inquisitive little eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay,” he squeaked.
“Apparently, the fright didn’t scare the talking in triplicate out of him,” God groused.
Ian covered a laugh with a cough as he pulled his phone out and studied the screen.
“I hope your father makes it, Miss Lee,” Patrick offered politely.
I swallowed hard, knowing he was doing the best he could in the situation. “Thank you.”
I could tell from the way he was studying me that he was worried, but with Ian sitting right there, he couldn’t say anything.
“Drive safely,” Patrick said and then walked away.
“That was Thurston,” Ian announced, waving the phone at me. “He said he forgot to tell you something your dad wanted you to know.”
As we drove back to the hospital, I wondered what the message was. Was it a declaration of love or a warning?
14
Thurston and Armani were still in the waiting area when we got back to the hospital. He looked tired and she looked bored. But they weren’t alone.
Templeton had returned and brought my sister, Marlene, with him. She looked extremely worried.
“Who’s watching the girls?” I blurted out, terrified the kids had been left in the care of Loretta and Leslie, who, if memory served correctly, hadn’t been the best babysitters when they were young and spry.
“Herschel’s there,” Templeton assured me.
My mouth opened and closed like I was a beached fish. “He’s their great-grandfather,” I finally managed to splutter.
“I’m sure Piss and DeeDee are watching over them,” God whispered from my bra.
I didn’t find that particularly reassuring, either.
“I can go,” Ian offered from behind me.
Marlene shook her head. “Doc and Miss Lassalan are taking care of Alicia and Katie.”
“Thank goodness.” I felt much better knowing that a paramedic and a teacher were with the kids.
“Templeton said he was going to wind you up when you got here,” Marlene added.
I frowned at Templeton.
He winked back, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Did you really think I’d leave them in the sisters’ care?”
“Hahaha, you’re a funny guy,” I muttered bitterly.
“Now that you’re back, handsome,” Armani told Ian, “I’m going to find something to eat.”
She stiffly got to her feet, patted Thurston’s shoulder, and limped away. I knew that she wanted me to follow her from the look she was giving me.
“Walk with me, Maggie,” Uncle Thurston requested, leveraging himself off his seat.
I glanced at Armani, feeling torn.
She gave me a slight nod and continued in the direction of the cafeteria.
Ian stayed behind with Marlene and Templeton, while I accompanied my uncle out to the parking lot. My stomach churned as I wondered what message he had to convey.
Thurston stuck his hands in his pockets and looked up, studying the stars…well, as many stars as one can see through the pollution of a New Jersey sky. “We were born on different days.”
“Huh?” I asked eloquently.
“We’re twins, but we were born on different days.”
I took that to mean that their mother, my grandmother, had been in labor at night and given birth close to midnight.
“Didn’t you ever hear that old poem?” Thurston asked.
“Poem?” I parroted.
“Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace, Wednesday’s child is full of woe, Thursday’s child has far to go,” Thurston recited solemnly. “Guess which day Archibald was born.”
“Wednesday?” I ventured. My dad had more than his share of trouble.
Thurston glanced at me sharply. “Thursday. He has so far to go.”
Considering my father was currently lying on an operating table, I figured he only had two places to go: recovery or the morgue. Either way, it was only a couple of stories, not so far.
“He tries, Maggie,” Thurston said. “He tries to do right by you. He loves you.”
I nodded, swallowing a lump. Sure, Archie Lee is never going to win World’s Best Dad and we’ve had more than our share of problems, but I knew he loved me. If I’d needed external proof, all I had to do was remember how he’d saved my life when the Bed & Breakfast had been blown up.
Thurston extended his hand toward me. “He wanted you to have this.” He handed me a wadded up scrap of yellow paper.
I took it carefully, realizing I was trembling. “When did he give this to you?” The streetlight revealed there were words printed on it, but I couldn’t make them out.
“When I saw him before he was carted up to surgery.”
I frowned, confused. He’d been unconscious at the cemetery, how had he ended up with a piece of paper in the Emergency Room?
“He made me promise to give it to you.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. “Do you know what it is?”
He shook his head. “No, but he seemed to think it was important. Be careful, Maggie.”
I nodded, curling fingers around the paper.
Thurston turned and headed back inside. I trailed behind him.
“What does it say?” God asked curiously.
“I don’t know,” I wh
ispered back.
While my uncle headed back to wait with Templeton, Marlene, and Ian, I went in search of Armani. Heading toward the cafeteria, I passed the disheveled rack of sexually transmitted diseases brochures I’d knocked over earlier. It seemed so long ago. The cumulative stresses of the day caught up with me and I stopped, sighing tiredly. I backed myself into the nearest wall and leaned on it, eyes closed, suddenly too exhausted to keep going.
“You okay?” a familiar voice asked.
I opened my eyes and focused on Gino.
“Can I get you something?” he offered.
I shook my head.
“We’ve put extra eyes on your grandfather’s place and we’re watching over your father,” he told me.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Was it you?”
Gino tilted his head, confused. “Was it me what?”
“Was it you that shot him?”
He blinked, a pained expression flitting across his face. Then, he pivoted and strode away without saying a word.
“It’s really not a good idea to antagonize the mobster’s henchman,” God lectured from my bra.
I ignored him, forcing myself to take some deep breaths as I struggled to remain calm. Gino hadn’t denied my accusation. I’d really expected him to say, “Of course not” but he hadn’t done that. He hadn’t said anything. Why? Because he hadn’t wanted to incriminate himself? Had Delveccio’s talk about protecting my family just been a smoke screen? Had Archie done something to incur the wrath of the mob family?
Nausea clawed at my throat and my head spun as fear drowned out reason.
A gaggle of giggling nurses, whose shift had just ended, waddled past, the flurry of activity shaking me out of my dark thoughts. I pushed myself off the wall and made my way to the cafeteria where Armani was slathering lime gelatin onto a ham sandwich.
She smiled when I headed over to the table where she sat. “Want some?” She held up the white, pink, and green sandwich.
“No thanks.” I sank into the seat opposite her, doing a quick scan to make sure Delveccio wasn’t lurking.
“You don’t look so good,” my friend said before biting into her disgusting food combination.
I looked away. “Long day.”
“Yeah, but you’re not dead yet,” she replied cheerfully.
“There’s that,” I agreed.
“What’d Thurston want?”
“To give me a message from my dad.” I unclenched my hand and held out the wad of paper for her to see.
“What’s it say?”
“I haven’t looked.”
“So look,” she urged, waving the green-coated ham for emphasis.
I carefully unfolded the piece of paper, spreading it out on the tabletop.
“Yellow Pages. Your dad is old school,” Armani remarked. “Who uses a phone book?”
I nodded, turning over the sheet, looking for a note scrawled on it. But there was none.
“What’s it mean?” Armani asked.
I shrugged.
She squinted at it. “Do you think he left you something there?”
I frowned, considering her suggestion. It made sense. Why else would Dad want me to have an ad for a self-storage place? Unless, in addition to the tent on the compound’s property, his other address was this place. He had lived in one of these units before. “Probably,” I agreed.
She took another bite of ham and lime gelatin. “Maybe he left you his heart.”
Aunt Susan would have been appalled that she talked while chewing, but I didn’t mind. “His heart?”
“Yeah, I keep seeing you with a heart,” she explained.
I shrugged. “Maybe.” I’ve learned that while her predictions often don’t make sense when they’re offered, they do tend to fall into place eventually.
“Or more buried treasure,” she added thoughtfully. “Your dad is into some seriously interesting stuff.”
Interesting wasn’t the word I would use. Illegal. Dangerous. Stupid. Those seemed more apropos.
“Tell me about your friend,” she said a little too casually.
I glanced over at her, but she was studiously studying her sandwich. “Mia?”
“Yeah. Susan said you two are best buds. ‘Thick as thieves’ is what she said.”
I chose my response carefully, unsure of whether she was just curious or jealous. “You know how high school girls are. Joined at the hip. Sharing all the secrets. Best friends forever bull. Then, she and Alice had a fight and forever was short-lived.”
I waited to see what Armani’s reaction would be.
“Griswald doesn’t trust her,” she revealed. “I heard him and Susan arguing about it.”
“He told me,” I murmured.
Armani raised her gaze to meet mine. “Be careful, chica. I have a bad feeling about her.”
15
Dad survived surgery and Thurston insisted on seeing him when he was allowed a visitor in recovery. Ian insisted on staying with our uncle. That left Templeton to drive the rest of us home.
I’d practically fallen into bed and was grateful to God for telling all the other animals to let me sleep. Despite all the stress of the day, I slept soundly and awoke feeling refreshed the next morning.
After showering, I wandered into the kitchen along with DeeDee, Piss, and Matilda. Only Armani was there, which meant it fell to me to make a pot of coffee. I offered some cream to Piss, but she refused, saying I didn’t pour it right. On the other hand, DeeDee and Matilda gladly gobbled up everything I gave them.
Finally, realizing Armani hadn’t spoken the entire time I’d been in the room, I asked, “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head but remained silent.
I squinted at her worriedly. It was out of character for her to be so quiet. “Are you sick?”
She arched her eyebrows.
“Are you in trouble?”
“No.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Are you not speaking to me?”
“Your friend called,” she revealed, jerking her chin in the direction of the phone, the old-fashioned kind, with a twisted cord, hanging on the kitchen wall.
It was Herschel’s house and my grandfather was set in his ways.
“Who?”
“Mia.” She didn’t bother to disguise her jealousy.
Not wanting her to see my expression, I turned away to pour my coffee. It couldn’t be a good sign that Mia was calling the house. “What did she want?”
“To talk to you.”
“And yet, I didn’t talk to her,” I murmured.
“I told her you were sleeping and needed your rest,” Armani said.
I lifted my coffee mug to my lips and blew across the surface. I knew she’d meant well, but I certainly hoped her refusal to wake me hadn’t pissed off Mia. I didn’t need my old friend angry, in addition to being desperate. “Did she say anything else?”
“Just that she’d heard about your father and that she hoped he’d be okay.”
I sipped my coffee and turned back to face her. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Letting me sleep.”
She nodded, a satisfied smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “I’ve got something for you.”
I tried not to flinch, hoping it wasn’t another prediction.
She reached down her shirt and, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, yanked a white glove out. “What?” she asked, noticing my incredulous stare. “You’re not the only one who carries stuff in her bra.” She tossed the glove, made of a rough-looking material, onto the table in front of me. “You’re going to need that.”
“If you think I’m playing Michael Jackson to Soulful and Sinful’s act, you’re nuts,” I told her firmly.
She blinked, trying to make sense of what I’d said. “It’s puncture resistant.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“The glove.” She pointed at the article of clothing. “It’s puncture resistant. It should protec
t you from knives, glass, rusty nails...everything.”
“You think I’m going to die of tetanus?” I asked
She shook her head. “You need to keep it with you at all times.”
“So it will stop a puncture wound that would kill me?” I guessed.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know you’re gonna need it.”
“Maybe I should get a bulletproof vest, instead,” I suggested, eyeing the glove.
“It’s stronger than Kevlar,” she told me impatiently. “Take it, Maggie.”
Nodding, I picked up the glove and stuck it in my back pocket.
“Don’t lose it,” she lectured.
“Where is everyone this morning?” I asked, eager to redirect the conversation.
“Marlene and Doc took the girls to the donut shop. They should be back soon.”
I frowned. It would probably be safer if everyone stayed on the compound until it was figured out who the shooter’s intended target had been and why. I made a mental note to ask Griswald to give the family a safety lecture. They’d listen to him.
A knock at the kitchen door startled me. Jumping, I sloshed hot coffee over my hand.
DeeDee growled at the door while Matilda inhaled the java I’d spilled.
“It’s Brian Griswald,” a voice called.
“Easy, DeeDee,” I commanded, opening the door for the police detective.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said with an apologetic smile. Then, he looked at Matilda with alarm, as if it wasn’t perfectly normal to have a pig in the kitchen.
“Matilda won’t hurt you,” I promised. I motioned for him to enter while asking, “Is there something wrong with the front door?”
He shook his head, waved to Armani, and stared longingly at the coffee maker. “Could I impose on you for a cup?”
While I played the part of the polite hostess and poured a drink for the nice policeman, Armani blurted out, “Maggie’s going to die.”
I glanced over to catch Brian’s shocked expression. He’d been in the middle of petting DeeDee, but he froze, stricken.
“Are you ill?” he asked me.
I shook my head.
“I had a vision about it,” Armani explained. “She’s going to die.”
Now, I’m guessing that most detectives would have dismissed a psychic’s prediction, but not Brian. He’d met his girlfriend, or maybe she was his fiancée now, through Armani’s Psychic Matchmaking Service. I know Armani told me the status of their relationship, but I hadn’t been keeping track and it’s not like I was a Facebook friend with someone in law enforcement.