Paradise By The Rifle Sights (Greatest Hits romantic mysteries book #5) (Greatest Hits Mysteries)

by Langtry, Leslie

  "That's because I'll be hunting you every day after this," I answered.

  "Oh, of that I have no doubt. But you see, if I so much as smell your cologne…or one like it, I'm likely to kill my new pet."

  My stomach turned thinking of Cindee or Teri as Plimpton's pet. That was not going to happen. There was no way in hell he was leaving this house with either woman. Now all I needed was a plan.

  "You have five minutes to prepare before I bring the ladies in. You will follow Perry's prompts and do what I say. Then it will be over, I'll take my insurance and go." He cocked his head to one side. "I really am curious as to who you'll choose."

  Mel came in and led me out of the room to a part of the house I hadn't been in before. He grumbled as he walked. Clearly he was furious. Probably because of the sudden ending of his show. Maybe because of this new announcer, Perry. I didn't really care.

  The balcony selected for the proposal faced the West and was over the pool. They'd get a great sunset shot of me, offering one of the women up to Plimpton for whatever horrors await. And it would be my decision that doomed her.

  "You must be Paris!" A startlingly fake man with blonde hair and capped teeth stood in front of me with his hand out. I didn't shake it.

  "Sorry about this," he said sympathetically. "I know it's tough to have someone come in at the end. But I think it will make the show stronger, don't you?"

  "Where do you want me?" I said through my teeth. I wasn't responsible for his self-esteem. It was obvious that Perry and Mel had no idea what was really going on. But there was no time to worry about them.

  "Over there." He pointed to the middle of the balcony rail, before scurrying out of my way.

  Mel approached me. "Sorry Paris. I think this is a stupid idea—bringing in an announcer at the last minute. We don't have him in any of the earlier footage! I can't imagine what Plimpton's thinking."

  I grabbed the man's arm and squeezed. Hard. "You knew he was Plimpton all along? And you didn't tell me?"

  Mel pushed away, shaking his head frantically. "I didn't think it was any big deal! Chuck likes going undercover on his shows. I never thought he'd reveal himself to you before it was over."

  "Get away from me," I said. I must've used my "Assassin's Voice" because he skittered away immediately.

  I went to stand at the balcony. The women were led in. Both seemed surprised at Teri's presence, but neither said anything. Why did she agree to this? Or did she really have a choice? Maybe it was because she needed the job. At any rate, she had no idea how dire the situation was. They were kept far away from me. I wanted to explain everything. I wanted to apologize. There was no chance for that here.

  The lights went up, and the cameras came on.

  "Paris Bombay!" Perry, the announcer shouted. I flinched inwardly. The rose they gave me still had thorns, and I was sweating like a fat guy in a sauna in this tux under these stage lights.

  "The time has come!" he continued. "Who are you going to choose? Cin, or Teri?" I felt a clock ticking inside my head, and it made me think of the bombs my cousin Dak and I used to make as kids. How did I get into this mess? I never wanted to star on The Single Bachelor: Bachelor No More—Ever. Great. Cin and Teri are looking at me thinking I'm about to make a decision. How do I tell them I can't?

  The vague sketch of an idea slid over my thoughts. I motioned for both women to come to me. Cindee wore a little black dress and black peep-toe heels. She was absolutely beautiful. Teri was in a blue satin dress that demonstrated she really had curves hidden under her chauffer suit. Her hair was piled up on her head, and I realized she was a knockout. She looked pissed, like she only just found out she was a contestant, let alone a finalist.

  Cindee smiled nervously at me. Her silky, black bob gleamed under the lights, and her lips were full and red. She'd just gone on this show for an acting credit. Did she think she'd get this far? That she'd have to actually deal with a real proposal? I had to quit thinking about these concerns and focus.

  I took both women by the hand and led them to the rail. If my idea worked, they'd both be furious with me, but they'd also both be safe. I'd have to say and do just the right thing at just the right time. No pressure there.

  "What am I doing here?" Teri hissed.

  "Teri, Cindee," I started, ignoring her, "this has been an impossible decision to make." I knelt before them to get some traction. Teri frowned. She was not happy. And it made me wonder why. I liked her, a lot. But suddenly I realized I wanted her to like me too. The fact that she didn't seem happy bothered me.

  "You are both amazing women. Cindee, you are thoughtful, sweet, compassionate, and smart." She gave me a little nervous nod in thanks.

  I turned to Teri. "Teri, you are the kind of woman who won't put up with any bullshit." I heard a gasp from the cameraman and tried not to smile. "You are wise, and funny, and amazing in your own right."

  Teri glared at me. And in all fairness, I understood. She never wanted to be on the show. She despised it as being the worst that L.A. had to offer. But here she was, dressed up and forced to possibly be rejected in front of America. Well, whoever was watching. I really had to wonder what Chuck had said to her.

  "Choosing between the two of you is a travesty. Both of you deserve a prince. Not someone like me." I wondered if Chuck felt he was getting his money's worth with my drama.

  I took a deep breath and let go of their hands. My muscles were taut, coiled in my legs. "And that is why, I choose…"

  It happened so fast I wasn't sure they understood. I leaped to my feet, each shoulder burrowing into a woman's core as I lifted them off their feet and threw them backward, over the railing into the pool below.

  Angry screams came from the pool, but I had no time. I spun around and lunged for the mercenary, disarming him and punching him so hard he fell to the ground unconscious or dead. I didn't care which.

  I'd counted on Dushyant going after me, and he did. Before he was able to touch me, I kicked upward at his chin. His head snapped back, and he slithered to the floor, unconscious.

  Kevin started squeaking, and the crew was frozen in place. Chuck glared at me. I ran toward him as he made a break for the railing. Chuck climbed up onto the railing and turned back to give me a smile. In seconds, he'd be in the pool, closer to Teri or Cindee. Plimpton couldn't hurt both of them before he got to them, but I could see in his eyes that didn't matter. He only needed one victim to win.

  I was only a foot away and reached out to grab him. Chuck staggered backwards, losing his balance. He fell. There was the sound of a sickening crack below, and Cindee started screaming.

  Looking over the rail, I saw the broken body of Chuck Plimpton. He'd missed the pool by an inch and a half. Teri checked his pulse and shook her head at Cindee, who then buried her face in her hands. Teri looked up at me. I'm pretty sure that if looks could kill, I'd already be dead.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "I couldn't wait for success, so I went ahead without it."

  ~Jonathan Winters

  The police came pretty quickly. Cindee and Teri had been wrapped in blankets and led away. Detective Miller was there again. I waited until he got to me.

  "So, Paris Bombay," the detective said slowly, "what exactly happened here?"

  I explained that Chuck had threatened Teri and Cindee and explained what I knew (but not how I knew it) about his white slavery activities. My goal was to sound inept and stupid—and that I was truly sorry he died. The officer nodded occasionally.

  "We've been trying to nail Plimpton for years," he said to my surprise. "We think he's responsible for the deaths of at least eleven women over the past three years." Miller gave me a look that said he wasn't going to fill me in, and then he shook my hand. "I think we can write this all off as an unfortunate accident."

  What? As I watched him walk away, I marveled at the fact I'd gotten away with it so neatly. Chuck jumping over the banister was a fluke. And this was probably the first time ever a Bombay was caught on film taking
out his Vic.

  Wait. I was filmed killing my Vic. This could be a serious problem with the Bombay Council. Not to mention the fact that I'd done Liv's assignment. I had a lot to answer for once I got home.

  Then there was Cindee and Teri. I'd been a complete asshole. Cindee and Teri were all I wanted in a woman (if they'd been conjoined twins, I'd be in heaven), and now they both despised me. Hell, I despised me.

  I stared at the pool below for a moment before taking off my jacket and going inside. The sooner I faced them, the sooner I could go home, crawl into my bed and die.

  I spotted Teri just inside the door. She was arguing with someone on her cell phone but snapped it shut when I approached her.

  "Teri, I'm sorry." I hung my head to let her know I meant it. "Chuck put you in the finale to make me choose between you and Cindee and whoever I didn't pick, well…" How could I explain this to her?

  "I know all about it," she waved her hand at me in disgust. "What I want to know is why you threw us into the pool."

  "You knew? How did you know?" The detective was still outside. He just now took my story. How could she possibly know?

  Teri fished into her purse. The blue, silk dress clung to her every curve. I tried not to stare, but she had one hell of a body. She shoved a badge under my nose.

  "You're FBI?" I sat down, and thank God there was a chair behind me, or I would've landed on the floor. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Why should I tell you?" she answered. And then it hit me—she had no idea who I really was. Paris Bombay was just some nitwit trying to get laid on a stupid show.

  Teri put her hand up in my face. "I've been on this case for two years now. The whole house is bugged, and half the female contestants were agents."

  Okay, now I really felt stupid. I can usually spot a Fed a mile off. How did I miss this? Oh yeah, because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself, dismissing these women as trash, and screwing up the assignment.

  "Again, I'm so sorry," I started, but she silenced me again with the hand.

  "Two years of undercover work ruined." She shook her head. "But at least that monster is dead."

  "Teri, I…"

  "Save it Romeo." She gave me a wry smile. "It would never have worked out between us. Frankly, you are just not my type."

  As I watched her walk away, I realized that I'd let one hell of a woman slip through my fingers. It was depressing. If we'd met at any other time, maybe we could've had something. But then again, she was a Fed, and I was an assassin. Even with my family's connections at the Bureau, it would never work out. It had been my experience that FBI agents towed a strict line between the good guys and the bad guys. Being a paid assassin from a family of assassins gave me no chance whatsoever.

  It took me a little longer to find Cindee. She'd changed her clothes, but her hair was still wet. All of her makeup had been washed away. She sat in a T-shirt and shorts in the kitchen, staring out the window and playing with a spoon that was on the counter. I'd never seen anything so beautiful.

  "Hey," I said weakly. "I was looking for you."

  Cindee stood and walked toward me. I froze, waiting for her to slap me or punch me. I certainly deserved that.

  Instead, she threw her arms around me and pressed her lips to mine. She was warm, damp, and smelled like chlorine, and I was more than a little turned on by that. The kiss was real. Nothing staged for cameras or to achieve a desired effect. I didn't want it to end.

  When she pulled away, she looked deep into my eyes.

  "What was that about?" I asked. "Not that I'm complaining, that is…"

  "For saving my life. Even if you had to throw me into a pool to do it."

  "How did you know?" Seriously! Was she an agent too?

  "Teri told me." She smiled. "She told me she's with the FBI and that Chuck was going to hurt me."

  "Sorry about the pool," I answered weakly. She liked me after all that?

  "I don't care about the pool. Although it did bother me having a guy die next to me. But I suppose it can't be helped."

  I kissed her before she had a chance to say anything else. Maybe, just maybe, I'd get another chance with her. And that was good enough for me.

  EPILOGUE

  It's been six months since I threw Cindee into a pool in Hollywood. She flew home with me, and we spent a long, wonderful week together in my apartment. At the end of that week, we spent a weekend in Chicago at a very nice boutique hotel. I proposed to her by the pool, and she accepted. Then I threw her in, just for old time's sake.

  The Bachelor: Bachelor No More—Ever did not air. I think the Council had something to do with that, but I'll never know. Shortly after we flew home, the bodies of four men were discovered in a Dumpster at Chuck Plimpton's house. I felt pretty bad about that. Even bad guys shouldn't rot in the trash in Hollywood.

  Chuck Plimpton's full story came to light, and the media was still milking it for all it's worth. A couple of his captives were signed to start a reality show tracing the white slave business in America. Geraldo was rumored to be the producer. I guess things came full circle.

  My contacts at the Bureau told me recently that Teri had been promoted to Captain as a result of her investigation. It didn't surprise me at all to see on TMZ that she's now dating George Clooney.

  The Bombay Council was less than thrilled with me. Liv and I had to appear at a special meeting at Santa Muerta—the family's private island off the coast of South America. Liv was punished for forcing her assignment on me. I was punished for botching the original job, then killing the Vic in front of television cameras. The punishment was forty lashes dealt by Grandma Mary.

  I'm kidding. The punishment was that we had to do a job together later that week. The assignment was in Kazakhstan and involved me and my sister taking out a serial killer tag team, and we had to do it with our bare hands. The sounds of Liv's thumbs puncturing the Vic's eye sockets and squishing into his brain will haunt me for the rest of my life, but the punishment could've been worse…much worse.

  Cindee has moved in with me, and we are planning a wedding, looking for a house, and launching our own little private enterprise—a book store. One with an especially large and comfy poetry section.

  I still have to tell her about the fact that I'm an assassin. It's a requirement that our spouses know and accept this. I've held off, because some interesting things are going on right now with my cousin Coney Island Bombay, and who knows? Maybe we will all be allowed to retire for good.

  I've even developed a soft spot for reality television. That's how Cindee and I spend our Thursday nights—curled up on the couch in each other's arms, wearing silk pajamas, and drinking Harvey Wallbangers. After all, I can finally say that I really am a bachelor no more—ever.

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  About the Author

  Leslie Langtry manages somehow to write from her home in the Midwest, where she lives with her two fabulous kids and terrific husband. She has never assassinated anyone—and wants to make that perfectly clear.

  To learn more about Leslie Langtry, visit her online at www. leslielangtry.com .

  * * * * *

  OTHER BOOKS BY LESLIE LANGTRY

  Greatest Hits Mysteries:

  'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy

  Guns Will Keep Us Together

  Stand By Your Hitman

  I Shot You Babe

  Paradise By The Rifle Sights

  Snuff the Magic Dragon

  * * * * *

  SNEAK PEEK

  of the next Greatest Hits Mystery

  by Leslie Langtry:

  SNUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON

  Once Upon A Time, there was a family of Assassins, called the Bombays…

  My name is Gin Bombay, and I’m a retired assassin. Because I’ve retired early and am a bit bored, I decided it was time to write down all t
he stories that have been passed down in our family for the last few millennia…the Bombay Bedtime Stories, if you will.

  First of all, I’d like to make it clear that these stories have been passed down orally. Second, I’m not a historian or writer. So I may get some things wrong here and there. I’ve decided to write in my own voice, as if I were there, which I was not. If you are some jerk, Ivy League professor bent on pointing out all my mistakes – I may just have to come out of retirement for one more job, if you get my drift.

  I’d like to dedicate this book to my wonderful daughter, Romi, who was born (through no fault of her own) into this crazy family.

  These stories entertained me when I was growing up. I hope you enjoy them.

  -Virginia Bombay

  Bombay, The Um, First Bombay—The Minotaur

  Island of Crete, 1256 BCE

  I had to move carefully, I reminded myself as I knocked over a clay pot. Who had clay pots anymore? It was the Bronze Age, for the gods’ sake! Clay pottery was useless and would never again be worth more than the dirt it was mixed from.

  The pot tottered precariously. My reflexes were pretty quick, though, and I caught it before it hit the stone road. After regaining my breath, I slipped into the shadows, away from the market, toward the outskirts of town.

  My contact was nervous. An idiot. An Athenian. He did not like coming to Crete to meet me. But he had no choice. If he wanted me to get the job done, he’d have to come here. I wasn’t fond of sailing. Too many sea monsters and that overly sensitive Poseidon. I’ll keep my sandals on terra firma, thanks.

  Let Codros take the risk. I didn’t know what he wanted me to do, but he promised me a lot of money. A noise from my left gave me pause. I froze, willing my body to blend in with the wall behind me. Nothing. Probably a bird or something.