Maggie Lee (Book 21): The Hitwoman and the Fallen Angel

by Lynn, JB

  “Oooh, Zeke,” Piss purred excitedly. She jumped up so that she, too, was on the dashboard of the car, peering out at him.

  “Get down,” I told her. “I can’t see.”

  She twitched her ears but did as I asked.

  Zeke got out of his car and walked toward me. I rolled down the window.

  “Good morning,” he said with an easy smile.

  “Not particularly,” I retorted.

  His smile wavered. “Well, then, I guess it’s going to get worse.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”

  “I’m supposed to bring you to visit somebody.”

  “I can’t right now.” I shook my head, thinking about Angel, lying unconscious in the motel room.

  “I don’t think it’s negotiable,” Zeke said slowly.

  I frowned. He was probably right. Not doing what Ms. Whitehat instructed was probably not the best of ideas.

  “Well, can I make a stop along the way?” I asked.

  Zeke glanced at his watch and said, “As long as it doesn’t take more than an hour.”

  “It won’t,” I assured him. “But they’ve got to come along,” I said, pointing to Piss and DeeDee.

  “Leave do DeeDee not,” DeeDee panted.

  “We can bring them in the car,” Zeke said. “But, trust me, they’re not going to be allowed in where we’re going.”

  I nodded. “The car will be enough.”

  Zeke started walking back to his car.

  “Hey, where are you going to park?”

  He turned back to look at me. “Park?”

  “We’re taking my car,” I told him.

  All I needed was for somebody to see my car parked at the end of the driveway. They would either think that I had abandoned it or that foul play had occurred.

  Zeke considered it for a moment, shrugged, and said, “I’ll park right there.” He pointed to a space just off the driveway.

  I nodded my approval. He quickly pulled his car over there and then moved to climb into the front passenger seat.

  The dog bared her teeth at him and growled. “Shotgun.”

  “DeeDee,” I said when she didn’t move. “Let him have that seat.”

  “Shotgun,” she protested.

  “Now,” I said, jerking my thumb toward the back of the car.

  “Human trumps shotgun,” Piss told her.

  DeeDee whined but did as she was told.

  Zeke hopped into the seat. “Ready for a new adventure?” he asked.

  “No.” I’d be happy to never have another adventure again in my life.

  27

  I told Zeke that he had to wait in the car when we got to the motel. I think he thought it was strange that he had to wait in the car, but the cat and dog and lizard got to accompany me inside, but he didn’t say anything.

  I walked back up to Angel’s room. “Maybe one of you should stay with him,” I suggested.

  “Me! Me! Me!” DeeDee barked excitedly.

  “He’s unconscious, you imbecile,” God told her from where he was perched on my shoulder. “He’s not going to be able to feed you.”

  “Angel will protect I,” DeeDee said proudly.

  “I’m not sure Angel needs protection,” God said.

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure he does,” I responded. “I’m just not sure that the dog is the one to provide it.”

  “Well, don’t look at me, sugar,” Piss said, arching her back and raising her hair. “I’m spending my time with Zeke.”

  “Never mind,” I told the animals. “It was a stupid idea.” Arriving at the door of Angel’s room, I knocked on it and then stepped back, waiting for it to be opened.

  I was shocked when a bearded, heavily muscled man yanked the door open, practically tearing it from its hinges. “What?”

  I recognized him immediately. He was one of the men Patrick had pointed out outside the bar, one of the would-be bank robbers, according to the redhead.

  “Good morning,” I said, thinking Aunt Susan would have been impressed with my manners. Meanwhile, my mind was racing. Was he there to hurt Angel again? What happened to the caregiver Gino had arranged? Why was I once again unarmed?

  He looked down at me, noticing I was flanked by a dog and a cat.

  “We don’t want any,” he said, and moved to close the door. He probably would have done it, but Piss raced inside the room to look for Angel.

  “He’s in here,” she yowled.

  “Angel!” DeeDee barked, rushing past the man.

  The big guy hesitated. He seemed scary, but unsure what to do when faced with the animals.

  “Let her in,” Angel called weakly from inside the room.

  The muscled guy stepped aside and motioned for me to enter. I wondered how he’d gotten there, considering his Hummer wasn’t in the parking lot.

  I glanced back, wondering what Zeke thought from his vantage point of observing the exchange. I also wondered if Patrick Mulligan was out there somewhere in the parking lot, watching.

  I squared my shoulders and stepped into the room.

  Angel was propped up on the bed, half sitting, half prone. Both the cat and the dog had taken up positions on either side of him.

  “Hi, Maggie,” he said with a weak smile.

  I stood there, feeling uncomfortable because of the presence of the other man. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “You did a good job stitching me up,” he said.

  I glanced at the other guy in the room and chose not to tell him that I hadn’t been the person to do the stitching. I didn’t need to reveal any additional information to this guy.

  “Maggie, this is Dwayne,” Angel said as a way of introduction. “Dwayne, Maggie.”

  Instinctively, I stuck out my hand to shake his.

  The tattooed guy just crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. “I don’t want her here.”

  “Don’t worry,” Angel assured him. “She’s not going to stay. She was just coming to check on me, right, Maggie?” He gave me a look that indicated he needed me to agree with him.

  I nodded. “It’s good to see you’re alive,” I told him dryly.

  “Thanks for your help,” he said. “I won’t be needing it anymore.”

  He’d never used that kind of dismissive tone with me before and I winced at his callousness.

  I glanced at Dwayne. “Is he going to be your new nursemaid?”

  The big man’s eyebrows knit together as he scowled at me.

  “Thanks, Maggie,” Angel said softly but firmly. “I’ll call you sometime.”

  I blinked, a little stunned by his matter-of-fact dismissal.

  “Come on, guys,” I said to the animals, blinking to hold back tears. “Let’s get out of here.” I wasn’t sure if I was on the verge of crying because of Angel’s attitude or because I felt so helpless to get him out of the situation.

  “And don’t come back,” Dwayne warned.

  I glanced back over my shoulder at Angel and he was giving me a thumbs up, but I saw worry in his eyes.

  I felt guilty for leaving him there, but with Zeke in the parking lot and maybe Patrick Mulligan, too, I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice. Not with the disreputable Dwayne in the picture. I knew Angel was sending me away for my own protection, but I was starting to have the niggling doubt that the dark side was winning the battle for his soul.

  “Take care of yourself, Angel,” I said, walking out of the room.

  Dwayne practically slammed the door behind us.

  “That was strange,” God said as we walked slowly back toward the car.

  “He’s definitely being coerced, but until he’s willing to accept my help, I can’t do much for him.”

  Until I could get rid of Zeke, I might as well do what Whitehat wanted me to do. Maybe I could be useful to Boy.

  “Nap no?” DeeDee asked, her disappointment evident.

  “Maybe you can nap in the back of the car,” I suggested.

  “But what about you?�
�� Piss asked. “You’ve got to be just as tired as us.”

  “What’s that saying,” I asked. “There’s no rest for the sleepy?”

  “There’s no rest for the wicked,” God corrected.

  Considering I was never sure what side of the law I was on, I wasn’t sure I wasn’t wicked myself.

  I opened the car door and Zeke, who’d moved over to the driver’s seat, looked at me curiously.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  I shrugged. It wasn’t like I could confide in him. “Everything’s relative.”

  28

  “Change of plans,” Zeke said as soon as I’d strapped myself in.

  My heart sunk. “Now what?”

  He must have heard the trepidation in my voice because he reached over and patted my knee. “You get a break,” he told me with an easy smile. “Your prison visit has been canceled.”

  “Prison?”

  “Never mind. We don’t have to go now.”

  I let out a shaky sigh of relief. Nothing else had gone wrong and he was right, it did seem to be a break to not have to go to the prison.

  “You didn’t tell me somebody’s looking for Archie,” he said, putting the car into gear.

  I shrugged. “Seems like somebody’s always after Archie.”

  “He really doesn’t get the hang of that witness protection thing, does he?” Zeke chuckled.

  I shook my head. “Rules and structure aren’t exactly his forte.”

  He nodded and glanced over at me. “They’re not yours, either.”

  I laughed. “You’re one to talk.”

  He drove back the way we’d come, heading toward the compound.

  “So, what’s the new plan?” I asked.

  “The new plan is that I take you back,” he told me. “I have my own job I have to take care of now.”

  “Is it anything I can help with?”

  “No,” he told me. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”

  We drove the rest of the way back to the compound in silence and I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, he was gently shaking my arm.

  “Hey, Maggie,” he said gently.

  I opened my eyes and looked around.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Sure,” I lied.

  “I’ve got to go,” Zeke said.

  “See you soon for miniature golf,” I reminded him as he got out of the car and hurried off. It seemed incredibly urgent that I do something innocent and uncomplicated with my old friend. I wanted to be normal with Zeke, if only for an hour.

  I watched him go. Hearing snoring, I looked in the back seat and saw both Piss and DeeDee slumbering.

  I considered putting the seat back in my car and joining them for a much-needed nap. But before I could do that, there was a rap on my window.

  “Never a moment of peace,” God complained bitterly.

  I understood his feeling. I looked up to see who the latest interrupter was.

  “Patrick!” DeeDee barked excitedly, the knock having woken her.

  “I bet he brought food for her,” God said dryly.

  I, personally, hoped that he had brought food, or at least coffee, for me. I longed for the days when he’d wooed me with olives the same shade of green as his eyes.

  Patrick strolled around the car, and as he did so, sure enough, I spotted that he was carrying a brown paper bag.

  “I’m going to starve,” God said. “The rest of you are going to have to go into hibernation from having eaten so much.”

  “Shut up,” Piss purred without malice.

  Patrick climbed in the car and the smell of Taylor ham filled it. The aroma of the salty breakfast meat made my stomach growl with hunger.

  “Hungry,” DeeDee whined.

  “Hey, Mags,” the redhead said with a smile.

  “Is this going to take long?” I asked. “I’m really tired and need a nap.”

  The redhead raised his eyebrows. “On edge last night because of the prison escape?”

  I nodded. “I patrolled for most of the night.”

  “Patrolled?”

  “Somebody has to protect my family,” I told him.

  “Is that why you left the motel?” he asked.

  “You were there,” I said.

  “I saw that your car was there, I got curious. What are you doing hanging out in that kind of place?”

  “Helping a friend.”

  He stared at me for a long moment. “If you have friends there, you need new friends.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I told him.

  I considered telling him that Delveccio had charged me with keeping his nephew safe, but I wasn’t sure if that was in the confines of the mobster’s rules.

  “What are you doing about those bank robbers?” I asked.

  Patrick blinked, surprised by the question. “I’m keeping an eye on them.”

  “Did something happen yesterday?” I asked.

  His gaze narrowed and he considered me carefully. “Why? What do you know?”

  I shook my head and pressed my lips together, refusing to answer.

  “Seriously, Mags,” he said, leaning toward me. “You have to watch who you’re hanging out with.”

  “Does that include you?” I asked.

  He leaned back. “All I’ve ever done is try to keep you out of trouble.”

  I didn’t bother to tell him he’d sort of broken my heart.

  “Hungry!” DeeDee barked insistently.

  Patrick reached into the bag and unwrapped a sandwich. He didn’t even bother to tear it in half, he just tossed the whole thing to her in the back seat. “Do you want one?” he asked, holding out the bag to me.

  I shook my head. All I wanted was a nap. Barring that, I’d take a pot of coffee.

  Nodding, Patrick reached for the door handle. “Next time you see Angel Delveccio,” he said quietly, “tell him he should be making different friends, too.”

  “I know,” I said.

  He glanced back at me, his stare intense. “How much do you know?”

  “Not enough to make sense of anything, but too much to pretend there isn’t a problem,” I retorted.

  He frowned. “Delveccio wouldn’t want you to get yourself in trouble.”

  I shook my head. “You’re wrong, Patrick. You don’t understand family. It’s Delveccio that’s put me into this trouble.”

  Patrick scowled. “You’re working for him?”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe you should go out of town for a little while,” he suggested.

  “Go out of town?” I asked. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? One, it would piss off the mobster. Two, somebody’s after my family.”

  “You don’t know that anybody is after your family,” Patrick said. “For all we know, they’re only after Archie.”

  “But Archie always brings trouble to our front door.”

  I had no idea how true that was.

  29

  Trouble had been delivered to the door.

  It had arrived in the form of a fruit basket.

  At least, that’s what I could figure out when I walked into the house and heard just about everybody screaming at the top of their lungs. Loretta was running around the room, or, really, stumbling around the room on her stilettos, clutching her hand, which seemed to be dripping blood, screaming about losing consciousness.

  Leslie was chasing her, carrying a sharpened wooden skewer, which had obviously been stuck through a piece of fruit, like it was a prison shiv. She was screaming something about how Loretta deserved to die.

  “And this is what the descent into hell looks like,” God intoned from my chest.

  Susan was yelling at her sisters to stop and be quiet.

  Marlene and Darlene were in a separate corner having some sort of tug-of-war. The only two people in the room who were quiet were Herschel, who was sitting in a corner of the couch covering his ears, and Templeton, who was standing with a wad of paper napkins, probably for
Loretta’s bleeding hand. He wasn’t as pale as he’d been the night before. The bandage plastered above his eye gave him a rakish look. But he looked too afraid to wade into the fray.

  I, however, was not.

  “SHUT UP!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

  Shocked that I’d yelled at them, everyone actually did and turned to look at me.

  “What is going on here?” I asked, hands on my hips.

  Everyone in the room tried to answer me at once. I held up my arm and extended one finger. They all grew silent again. I turned to Templeton, who seemed to be the most reasonable person in the room at the moment, and said, “Templeton,” looking at him to make sure everyone in the room knew who I was addressing and that they weren’t allowed to interrupt. “Can you please tell me what’s going on here?”

  Templeton shrugged. “Archie sent a fruit basket.” He pointed to the corner of the room.

  I looked at the decimated remains of the fruit basket. It was one of those where the fruit was cut into the shapes of flowers and dipped into chocolate and icing and sprinkles and cookies and whatever else. At least, that’s what I think it had been, but now it was on the floor, having been trampled and smashed beyond recognition.

  DeeDee, who wasn’t proud, was nibbling on a piece of remaining pineapple.

  “Don’t get yourself sick,” I warned her.

  “Like she’d know what she was doing,” God mocked from my bra.

  All the human eyes in the room widened at the squeaking sound, and Herschel chuckled since he understood what had been said.

  I turned my attention back to Templeton and focused on him. “Archie sent a fruit basket, and this happened.” I moved my arms around the room to encompass all of the chaos.

  Templeton nodded.

  “The note said, Enjoy your new home,” Aunt Susan said bitterly.

  She wasn’t about to forgive my father for having been the reason her beloved Bed & Breakfast had been blown up in the first place.

  I gave her a sharp look. “I’m talking to Templeton.”

  Her mouth opened as though she was going to protest and then she snapped it shut. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back, and waited impatiently.

  “And then what happened?” I prodded Templeton.