by JB Lynn
Considering that I’d dealt with my dad, our half-brother, and still had to tackle the Whitehat job, I didn’t feel like I was getting a break. It felt like the usual chaos, except I was missing a couple key members of my support team.
“I’ve got everything under control,” Darlene assured me.
I wished that I did.
Chapter Twenty-seven
After talking to Darlene for a few more minutes, we ended the call, and I sat on the bed, head hanging, shoulders slumped.
“You did the right thing,” God told me gently. “It’s what Teresa wanted and Katie is happy with her.”
“I know.”
“Then why the long face?”
“DeeDee and Susan.”
“The beast did sound rather heartbroken,” God admitted. “But she’ll get over it.”
“You acted like I’d abandoned you and scarred you for life when I’d only been gone an hour,” I reminded him.
“Well, that’s because I was left here outside my normal environment. DeeDee is at home. She’ll be fine. Besides, you told her we’d be back soon.”
“And you’ve told me that the dog has no concept of time. It’ll seem like eternity to her.”
“You’ll make it up to her.”
“How?”
“Buy her a steak. Now that the redhead doesn’t come around as much, she’s not getting the same quality of food treats.”
“Neither am I.” Patrick Mulligan, my murder-mentor and former lover, had known the way to my heart was with olives, lots of olives.
“You’re better off without him,” God declared. “The dog, not so much.”
“Speaking of food, I’ve got to feed Benny. Do you want to come along or stay here?”
His response was to cliff-dive from my shoulder straight into my bra.
He let out a muffled moan when he landed.
Chuckling, I snuck out to the RV.
“Hey, Beautiful,” Mike greeted from his perch above the vehicle’s door.
“Hey, yourself.” I pulled out the cheese, broke off a piece, and tossed it to him.
Instead of catching it, he let it fall to the ground before swooping down to snatch it up, before flying away with it.
“No manners, that one,” God complained from his hiding spot.
“But he comes through in a pinch,” I countered.
Opening the door to the RV, I found Piss wrapped around the plastic box that contained the mouse. She looked at me with her good eye. “He’s weak.”
God climbed up my bra strap and settled on my shoulder.
“Be nice,” I warned.
“Yeah,” Piss flexed her claws. “Be nice.”
“I brought him some cheese.” I held it out to show the cat.
She unwound herself from the container. “Hear that, Benny? Maggie brought you some cheese.”
The tiny white mouse huddled in the corner of the box while I lifted the lid, but his little whiskers twitched as I carefully crumbled the cheese into bits to make it easier for him to eat.
“I hope you like cheddar.” I dropped the cheese inside.
“Thank you,” he squeaked so softly I barely heard him. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I whispered back.
“At least he has some manners,” God declared haughtily.
“I think he’s dehydrated,” Piss said.
“I’ll get him something to drink. Is water okay?”
“Water’s fine.”
“Water is the life force of the world,” God declared, superiority dripping from every syllable. “Water is better than fine. Water is magnificent.”
“Oh, will you shut up?” Piss groused.
I found a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and filled it with water. “Here you go,” I told the mouse who’d picked up a piece of cheese in his paws and was gently nibbling on it. “I’m just going to put this in there so that you can get to it.”
Moving slowly so as not to frighten him, I carefully put the cap of water into the box.
Despite my efforts, the mouse squished his body against the farthest side of the container, squeezed his eyes shut, and hyperventilated.
“She won’t hurt you,” Piss purred soothingly. “You’re safe. Maggie would never hurt you.”
“She’s right about that,” God reassured the mouse. “She loves all animals and would never harm one. Even those she hasn’t met.”
Considering he’d just suggested I feed some dead cow to DeeDee, I knew that wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t think it was the time to argue the point.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to Benny as I replaced the lid on the box. “I’m done now. You can eat and drink in peace.”
He opened one eye to look up at me and I backed away so he’d know I meant what I’d said.
“Timid little thing,” God observed.
“He’s a mouse,” Piss hissed. “Mice are timid by nature.”
“Guys, can you not fight in front of him?” I suggested.
“We’re not fighting,” God and Piss said simultaneously.
I winked at Benny. “See? They can agree on something.”
I might have heard him titter softly.
My phone buzzed.
“That blasted thing,” God complained.
Annoyed with him, I answered without looking at the display, “Hello?”
“Hey, Mags.”
My stomach did that excited flip-flop thing it does every time he says my name. “Patrick?”
“You didn’t tell me you were leaving town.”
“It’s only for a short trip,” I began to explain. “Wait? How do you know I left town?”
“Our mutual friend told me.”
Delveccio. Of course. I wondered if the redhead was calling about a job for the mob boss.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Patrick said, as though he’d read my mind and heard my question.
“Yeah. Armani just wanted to travel a little.”
“Good.”
“And you’re okay?” I asked awkwardly. It felt strange to ask about the well-being of a guy I’d been in love with not that long ago. He was, in a strange, polygamist-who’s-a-hired-killer kind of way, a great guy, and he’s been a great friend and ally, but we just weren’t great together, at least in the romantic sense.
“I’m good.”
Silence stretched between us as we each waited for the other to say something.
Finally, I blurted out, “What do boxing gloves mean to you?”
“I don’t think it’s something you should take up. It takes a certain level of coordination,” he replied immediately.
That’s one of the things I appreciate about Patrick. No matter how strange or random the things are that come out of my mouth, he always has a matter-of-fact response.
“Are you insinuating I’m a klutz?” I joked lightly.
“I’m saying that you don’t exactly float like a butterfly.”
I could hear the smile in his voice and it warmed my heart. “But seriously, what do you think of when you think boxing.”
“Jab. Hook. Uppercut.”
I repeated the words even though they felt unfamiliar on my tongue. “Jab. Hook. Uppercut.”
“But I prefer that you remember eyes, nose, throat, groin,” he admonished softly, reminding me of the valuable self-defense lessons he’d given me.
“Always,” I promised.
“Are you in trouble, Mags?” There was no missing the concern in his voice.
Even though we weren’t meant to be as a couple, we both cared deeply for each other.
“Not yet,” I answered honestly.
He sighed. “Call if you need help.”
“I will.”
I could practically hear him shaking his head as he said, “We both know you won’t.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
As plans go, Operation Roll The Dice, was one that looked good on paper. Of course, lots of plans look good just be
fore they go to shit.
The plan was for Armani to flirt with the lawyer, Eugene, at a local coffee shop. While she distracted him, Zeke would steal the key fob for the man’s car, deliver it to part of the Whitehat team to wipe the fob’s memory clean with some funky technical mojo. Then, when Eugene was having the fob repaired, another technical wizard from Whitehat’s team would, in the act of fixing the ignition system, create some kind of energy pulse that would momentarily knock the Sorvina family’s camera off-line and allow for the substitution of the fuzzy dice.
It was all complicated and technical and I really didn’t follow most of it when Zeke explained it to me, but I was willing to go along with it since I was desperate to get back home to see Katie, DeeDee, and Aunt Susan.
“But what’s your role in this grand plan?” God asked as we stood on a street corner and watched Eugene, the mark, whose photograph Zeke had made me study, stroll into a coffee shop.
“I’m back-up,” I said as I watched Zeke usher Armani toward the shop.
I rolled my eyes as they patted each other on the butt like a couple of football players.
“They can’t possibly expect you to flirt,” God groaned.
“Be nice,” Piss hissed.
I looked down at the cat who was sitting on my feet, watching the street traffic disinterestedly.
I felt a surge of gratitude toward her, appreciating both her support and the fact that she’d been willing to leave Benny alone in the RV while we tackled this mission.
“If Armani can’t distract him for long enough,” I told the lizard, “it’s my job to keep him from getting to his car before Zeke gives the all clear.”
“I don’t like it,” God announced.
Truth be told, I didn’t like it either, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “He’s not a dangerous criminal, we’re out in broad daylight, and there are no baseball bats in sight.”
“Amen to that, Sugar,” Piss purred.
As we watched, Armani entered the coffee shop while Zeke stopped in front of the storefront beside it, pretending to talk on his phone.
“She can do this.” I said the words to reassure myself as much as the lizard.
I wasn’t happy that Armani had been pulled into this mess, and I wasn’t wholly convinced she was up for the job assigned to her. Worry soured my gut as I nervously shifted my weight from one leg to the other.
“Jab. Hook. Uppercut,” I murmured under my breath.
“If you start shadowboxing in the middle of the street, this operation is doomed,” God told me.
“Be cool, Maggie,” Piss warned.
I nodded, trying my best to control the nervous energy that was making me jump out of my skin. I hated that I wasn’t the one in there. I hated that it was Armani in danger’s path instead of me. I hated being sidelined.
Which was why I did what I did when a hand clapped down on my shoulder and a gravelly voice whispered in my ear, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Chapter Twenty-nine
I spun around and delivered a jab to the chest of the man standing behind me.
Of course, I’d forgotten that Piss was sitting on my feet so I tripped over her and lost my balance.
The cat yowled her displeasure.
And I tripped face first into the very leather-covered chest I’d just punched.
Strong arms steadied me even as the man I’d attacked began to chuckle.
“Sensitive skin. No crushing me.”
Pulling away from the black leather, I looked up to find a familiar face laughing down at me.
I tried to make sense of seeing him there. “Jack?”
Jack Stern, the crime reporter who’d gone off on a secret assignment for Whitehat’s organization, grinned as he rubbed the spot where I’d hit him. “It’s nice to see you too.”
I hid my hands behind my back like a guilty little kid. “Sorry about that.”
He shrugged. “My bad. I should have known better than to come up behind you like that. I consider myself lucky you didn’t go for my groin.”
“You should.” I looked away, thinking that Patrick was right and that boxing probably wasn’t the sport for me.
Shaking his head, Jack chuckled again. “I’ve missed you, Maggie.” He bent down so that he could look into my eyes. “Did you miss me at all? Even a little bit?”
“A little bit,” I admitted grudgingly. If I hadn’t been hung up on Patrick when I’d met Jack, I probably would have found the reporter to be more attractive. After all, besides being scruffily handsome, he was a smart, passionate law-abiding citizen. Of course, the whole smart and law-abiding thing was one of the reasons I’d kept him at arm’s distance since I’d been afraid his investigative skills might have revealed my un-law-abiding practices.
Standing tall, he surveyed the street. “So what are you doing here?”
My gaze swept the same route. Zeke was nowhere in sight. I wondered if he’d seen my altercation with Jack. I worried that I’d already blown the entire operation. If not, I had to get rid of Jack quickly so that I could be in position to stop Eugene from getting to his car, which was parked a few doors away.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Jack.
“Work.” His gaze narrowed. “You didn’t answer me.”
I decided to go with the truth, albeit the abridged version. “Armani won the lottery. She bought an RV and she’s paying me to act as her chauffeur.”
Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Really?”
I nodded.
“Well, good for her. But what about you? Are you content to play chauffeur?”
“It’s just a temporary thing,” I assured him.
He studied me. “I’m surprised you left your niece.”
Piss kneaded my calf, trying to get my attention. “Zeke’s leaving,” she meowed quietly.
The sound caught Jack’s attention and he looked down at her.
While he did that, I saw Zeke walk out of the coffee shop and stroll away. I really needed to get rid of Jack.
“Tell you what,” I offered. “It’s a complicated story. Why don’t I tell you about it over dinner?”
Jack eyed me suspiciously.
Channeling my inner-Armani I smiled and dropped my voice as I leaned closer and said, “And we can talk about how much I’ve missed you.”
He blinked, thrown by my sudden change in demeanor, but after a moment he nodded. “I’d like that.”
God made a gagging sound.
I hung on to my smile with everything I had.
“Same phone number?” Jack asked.
I nodded.
“I’ll text you when and where,” he said.
“I’ll be there.”
“I can pick you up.”
Eyes widening at the idea of having to explain why I was staying with Zeke, I shook my head. “No way. Armani will get her claws in you and I want you to myself.”
God gagged again.
Jack tilted his head to the side. “I like the sound of that.”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside me. I swallowed it down.
Jack leaned in close, whispered, “See you later” in my ear, and kissed my cheek before turning on his heel and striding away.
“Way to distract him, Sugar,” Piss purred, rubbing against my leg. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Neither did I,” God said. “And I really wish I hadn’t had to witness that display.”
“Then you don’t have to come along on my date,” I told him testily.
“Date?” God and Piss said simultaneously.
“You two agree on the weirdest things,” I groused.
“A date with the reporter was not part of the plan,” God reminded me.
“I had to improvise.”
“You improvised yourself right into a whole new problem.”
I sighed knowing he was probably right. “Zeke’s going to kill me.”
“Uh oh,” Piss said.
“Uh oh, what?” I as
ked worriedly.
“Something’s gone wrong.”
Chapter Thirty
Looking toward the coffee shop, I saw Zeke leading Armani out, practically dragging her by the arm. They appeared to be in the midst of a heated argument.
Them leaving together had not been part of the plan. Hell, I hadn’t even noticed Zeke return to the café. And them fighting in public was definitely not part of the plan.
I hurried toward them, crossing the street and invoking the anger of the two nearest motorists who both had to stomp on their brakes to avoid hitting me.
“I’m going to die!” God wailed.
Ignoring him and the honking and insults directed at me by the drivers, I rushed to reach Zeke and Armani who’d devolved into a full-on battle on the street.
As I grew closer, Zeke caught my eye, and, shaking his head, gave me a warning look.
Confused, I paused, unsure of what to do next.
“Listen,” God urged.
“…and that’s five of the reasons I broke up with you in the first place, Ralphie,” Armani raged. “Number six is your stupid collection of shot glasses.”
“It’s not a stupid collection,” Zeke argued. “They’re mementos of where I’ve been, complete with each bar’s logo. Memories I’ve made. A lot of them are memories we’ve made, sweetie-kins.”
“I’d like to take those memories and smash them into a million, billion, zillion bits just like I want to do with your heart!” Armani declared, shaking loose from Zeke’s grasp and limping away.
Zeke, looking like he was on the verge of tears, swayed unsteadily. He clutched his chest like she’d actually smashed his heart.
I just stood there watching it all play out. Eugene, clutching a cup of coffee, exited the shop, skirted nervously around Zeke, and headed for his car.
“Should I stop him?” I asked God.
“What makes you think I have any clue what’s going on?”
Looking to Zeke, I saw him shake his head, so I stood where I was and let Eugene pass unfettered.
Once he’d driven off, Zeke snapped out of his heartbroken trance and marched toward me.
“Change of plans,” he said with annoyance once he was within earshot.
“Obviously,” I snapped back. “What happened?”