The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman)

by Lynn, JB

  “Really?” I didn’t believe most of what came out of Templeton’s mouth, but I was intrigued by his observation.

  He nodded. “She never opens her eyes when we’re here. Frankly, the sisters have started to wonder if maybe you made up the change in her condition.”

  “Sisters plural? Or Aunt Susan?”

  He shrugged and looked away. He didn’t need to confirm my suspicion. Aunt Susan had made it clear that she was concerned I was taking after my mother and was losing my mind. She based her assumption on the fact I’ve adopted Doomsday. (She hates dogs.) I was a bit worried that she might not be wrong…after all, I was conversing with animals and going around killing men.

  “Are you sure you don’t need help moving in?”

  “No thanks.” This was the last night I’d be sleeping in my own bed for a while. The next day I’d be calling my aunts’ bed and breakfast my official residence. “I’m not bringing that much stuff with me.”

  “I’m sure Paul would be happy to help you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the man standing on the other side of my niece’s bed. “You’re more of a matchmaker than Loretta is.”

  He smiled. “When someone is in love, they want the whole world to be in love too.”

  Loretta came back in. “Who’s in love?”

  Templeton hurried to her side and wrapped his arms around her. “We are, honeybunch.”

  My gag reflex kicked in. I turned away before I retched in their faces.

  “Oh, I thought maybe Maggie was in love. You know dear, Paul could help you move in tomorrow.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s been suggested.”

  “And shot down,” Templeton said. “Let’s give these two a little time together, ‘Retta.”

  “But we just got here.”

  “And it’s Maggie’s day off. Let her get her visit in so the poor girl has the rest of her day free to live her life.”

  I mouthed “thank you” to Templeton as he led my aunt away.

  Maybe he wasn’t all that bad.

  And he was right, I did have plans for the rest of the day, but they had nothing to do with living my life. Rather they were about how to take someone else’s.

  Chapter Two

  “Bring the dog.”

  That’s what Patrick Mulligan had told me when we’d arranged our meeting. I wasn’t quite sure why he wanted Doomsday there, and I almost left her at home just to prove I had a say in what happened in our meetings, but I caved and brought her anyway.

  When I’d told God I was bringing the mutt to the rendezvous with my murder-mentor, he’d wanted to come along. I’d refused, explaining that when I finished with Patrick, I’d be heading to the B&B to unload some of the garbage bags full of my belongings. The lizard accused me of abandoning him. I told him to quit whining or I wouldn’t leave the television on for him when I left. He sulked and hid and didn’t even say good-bye when I headed out, balancing a box full of shoes under one arm, while hanging onto Doomsday’s leash with the other.

  Apprehensive about seeing Patrick again after his rejection in Atlantic City, I circled the mall twice before pulling into the parking lot, arriving fifteen minutes late. He pulled up in yet another car I’d never seen before and motioned for Doomsday and me to hop in. I’ve asked him where his never-ending supply of vehicles comes from, but he’s always evasive.

  I double-checked to make sure my vehicle was locked. There was no telling who might want to steal the box of smelly, used shoes I’d stowed on the floor of the front passenger seat.

  Then I opened the door to the backseat of Patrick’s car du jour and Doomsday bounded in. She greeted the red-headed cop/hitman with kisses. Since the headrest separated them, she basically licked the back of his right ear.

  I climbed into the passenger seat, taking care not to make eye contact with him. “DeeDee, stop that!” I swatted at her, but she ignored me.

  “She’s just excited is all.” He lowered the rear window halfway, effectively distracting the pooch. She immediately stuck her nose through the opening and sniffed the air, which I assumed smelled of the rancid grease from the food court.

  “Everything okay?” Putting the car into drive, he pulled away from mall. “It’s not like you to show up late.”

  “I had things to do,” I murmured, staring out the window.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

  I shrugged. “You’ve been busy. I’ve been busy.”

  He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “How are you, Mags?”

  “Fine, and you?” I delivered the response with just the right amount of cool civility…just like I’d practiced in front of my mirror, having predetermined I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself. Again.

  Tension filled the car as we both avoided the fiasco that had been our trip to Atlantic City. I’d practically thrown myself at Patrick and he’d politely rebuffed my advances. The memory of my mortification made my cheeks burn.

  He glanced sideways at me. “You’re okay with Delveccio’s personal favor?”

  I shrugged, secretly glad he wasn’t going to rehash the embarrassing incident.

  “Mags?”

  “What?”

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot you were watching the road and not me.”

  “So…?”

  “I don’t see that I have a choice. He threatened to sic Vinnie on me if I don’t do what he asked.”

  “Who’s Vinnie?”

  “You know, his bodyguard. Big muscle-head guy with the IQ of a gorilla…which, no offense to gorillas, he sort of reminds me of.”

  “He didn’t tell you who the target is?”

  Patrick’s tone was so deliberately bland it made me grind my teeth. “Let’s say what we’re really talking about here. We’re talking about killing a cop.”

  “How’s your niece?”

  His abrupt change of topic made my head spin. “What?”

  “Katie. How’s she doing?”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Can’t get anything past you, Mags.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to get into an argument with you while we’re trapped inside a car.”

  “Who said we’re going to argue?”

  He didn’t say anything, just stared straight ahead at the road in front of him. We sat like that, in frosty silence, for a couple of minutes.

  Grudgingly, I finally answered his question. “Her condition hasn’t improved much since she opened her eyes. No decline. She just isn’t getting better.”

  “That must be frustrating for you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly exhaled through pursed lips. “Life is frustrating for me. I hate my job and I really, really, really don’t want to move back in with my aunts, but it’s the best chance I’ve got to hold on to Katie.”

  Hearing my litany of woes, Doomsday pulled her head back into the vehicle and licked the back of my neck. I reached back and patted her head, grateful for the canine’s comfort.

  “Dogs can sense when someone’s upset,” Patrick said.

  “She’d better get used to this being my permanent state.”

  Taking his right hand off the steering wheel, my murder mentor patted my knee. “You’re not alone in this.”

  Plucking his hand off my knee, I dropped it back in his lap. He’d made his feelings clear in Atlantic City and I wasn’t going to repeat the mistake of mixing business with pleasure. “Where are we going?”

  “The barn.”

  “More shooting lessons?” Not long after we’d met, Patrick had taught me how to use a gun at the barn. Even though it had only been a couple of months, it felt like a lifetime ago.

  “Hand-to-hand combat.”

  My stomach fluttered. The last time we’d been at the barn I’d entertained a roll in the hay with him. Of course that had been before I’d discovered he was married…to two women. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

>   “It’s a great idea. You need the training, the mutt can run around in the field, and it’ll give you the excuse to hit something.”

  “Grass DeeDee!” the dog whined from the back seat.

  “Easy, girl.” Patrick reached back to rub her snout. “We’re almost there.”

  “I don’t need to hit anything,” I told him.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Are you giving up your apartment?”

  “No. My lease is good for another six months. I’m not moving any of my furniture or anything out. Just my clothes.”

  “So if you lose custody, you can move out of your aunts’ place.”

  “I won’t lose.” I couldn’t. Not after everything I’d done to provide the best for Katie. Not after who I’d become…a woman who killed people for money.

  “Okay. Okay.” He turned the car down an unpaved lane.

  We were almost there.

  “So tell me about this cop I’m supposed to kill.”

  Patrick’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, turning his knuckles white.

  “Do you know him?”

  “In passing.”

  “And do you think Delveccio is right about him? Do you believe he’s a contract killer who goes around murdering innocent witnesses?”

  His nod was so tight it was almost imperceptible. Pulling to a stop outside the barn, Patrick practically leapt out of the car. Opening the rear door, he told Doomsday, “Okay, DeeDee. You can go run, but be a good girl and come back when we call you.”

  “Grass! Grass!” the Doberman panted and then took off.

  I got out of the car and walked around to the trunk knowing that my favorite hitman would have bags of supplies for us to carry into the barn. Patrick was watching the dog bound away. Once she was out of sight he turned to face me.

  Cupping his fingers beneath my chin, he gently tilted my head back so he could get a better look at me. For a second I got lost in his green gaze.

  “You look like hell, Mags.” He whispered the words, but they felt like a slap across the face.

  Cheeks burning, I jerked free of his grip, and spun away from him. Unwilling to tell him how much his rejection in Atlantic City had stung.

  “When’s the last time you got a decent night’s sleep?”

  “The day before Darlene died,” I muttered. My breath caught in my throat when I realized I’d said the words out loud. It was an awful thing to say, it was a terrible truth to live with, but most of all, it was horrible to have shared that nugget of information with another living soul. I closed my eyes and wished to be struck by lightning, for the earth to swallow me whole, or to die of an aneurysm. My wishes never come true.

  “You haven’t slept for….years?” He sounded almost as appalled as I felt.

  “I’ve slept. I just haven’t had a decent night’s sleep.” I’d been plagued with nightmares about my younger sister’s murder for longer than I cared to remember.

  “Maybe if you talk to Marlene…”

  The mention of my murdered sister’s twin, who’d run away from home years earlier, was too much for me. I put my hand to my stomach and leaned weakly against the car, feeling as though I’d been punched in the gut.

  “She took off when she saw me at the hospital. She’s made it clear that she wants nothing to do with me.” Marlene had left the family years earlier and had made no effort to reconnect. I knew she blamed me for her twin’s death. I blamed myself too.

  “Aw, Mags.” Grabbing my shoulder, Patrick gently spun me toward him. I stared steadfastly at the unbuttoned collar of his moss-colored polo shirt and the sprinkling of red hair spilling out between the V. He pulled me closer, so that my cheek rested on the soft cotton and I could hear the steady beat of his heart. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head. Enveloped in the warmth of his body and the scent of the mint Lifesavers he’s always sucking on, the rest of the world and all of my troubles faded into nothingness. I could have stayed there forever, cocooned in a kind of peace and safety I’d never known.

  Until seventy pounds of dog jumped up, knocking us apart.

  “Bad dog!” Patrick scolded, pushing her off of him.

  “Sorry! Sorry!” She whined, immediately lying down and rolling over in a show of supplication.

  The color drained from Patrick’s face. “What the hell?”

  “Gary the Gun beat her,” I explained. A blackmailing hitman, Gary the Gun was the second person I’d killed. Not that I got paid for it…something that still irks me to no end. He was Doomsday’s former owner, but she’d turned against him and saved Patrick’s life. That was why I’d adopted her, despite the trepidation of my Aunt Susan.

  Patrick bent over and held a hand out toward her. “Easy, girl.”

  “You just startled her,” I told him. “She’s fine. DeeDee, give Patrick a kiss so that he knows you’re not scared of him.”

  The dog happily leapt to her feet, pranced over to the hitman, and licked his hand.

  Patrick knelt so that he was eye level with her. “I’m sorry, DeeDee. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’d never hurt you.” He scratched behind her ears. “Look, I brought you a treat.”

  “Patrick…” I warned. I’d told him before I didn’t like the way he spoiled her.

  Ignoring me, he popped open the trunk of the car and pulled out a Styrofoam “to go” container. “Bacon.”

  “Bacon?” I practically shrieked. No wonder she never wanted to eat her dry kibble.

  “Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!” Doomsday ran around him in tight circles, her little stump of a tail waggling.

  Patrick tossed a couple of pieces to her, which she wolfed down without bothering to chew. “Don’t worry, Maggie. I brought you a treat too.”

  “Bacon! Bacon!” The dog sat back on her haunches and begged.

  “Did you teach her that?” I asked.

  “Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” He threw her a couple more slices. “That’s all for now. Go and play.”

  Doomsday licked his hand in thanks and dashed off, grinning ear-to-ear, which made her look like a crazed, ferocious beast.

  “Sometimes I think she understands every word we say.” Reaching into the trunk, Patrick pulled out a small gym bag and held it out to me.

  Although stuffed to the point of bursting, it was pretty light. Too light to be holding guns.

  I decided it probably wasn’t the best idea to confirm his suspicion. “Okay, we’re out of the car. Tell me about the cop.”

  Rummaging in the trunk like he was panning for gold, Patrick’s face was hidden from view. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “I already don’t like it.”

  Slowly he straightened and faced me. “Remember that old saying about not shooting the messenger?”

  I nodded, trying to ignore the way my stomach had started to roil.

  “You’re going to hate this.” He studied my face for a long moment as though gauging whether I was about to attack him. “I’m sorry. It’s Kowalski.”

  “Paul?” I don’t know why I was surprised. At the back of my mind I’d suspected as much when Patrick had refused to name the intended victim in the car.

  “Paul Kowalski.”

  Paul Kowalski, the cop Loretta and Templeton were busy playing matchmaker over. Paul Kowalski, the guy who I would have slept with a few months ago if I hadn’t remembered I had a gun stuffed beneath my mattress. The former date with a bad temper. The cop who I was pretty sure had pulled me over a few weeks ago just to scare me. The same Paul who was going to be at the B&B that night for my “Welcome Home” dinner because Aunt Loretta had invited him without consulting me first.

  I threw the gym bag at Patrick’s head.

  Chapter Three

  Patrick ducked and the gym bag landed with a soft thud on the ground behind him.

  He tilted his head to the side and quirked an eyebrow. “You took that well.”

  Ignoring him, I brushed past him intending to scoop up the b
ag, but he grabbed my wrist. I closed my eyes as a pleasant tingle shot up my arm, spreading warmth throughout my traitorous body.

  “Look,” Patrick said gruffly. “I know you feel something for the guy, but trust me, he’s not the one for you.”

  Opening my eyes, I looked up at him. His green gaze was stormy, his chin rock solid. Usually I found his expression unreadable, but today it was a billboard of frustration. A thrill shot up my spine, knowing that I’d elicited this emotional reaction.

  A devil inside urged me to push him further. “I do feel something for him.”

  I watched in fascination as the muscle in Patrick’s jaw twitched and his gaze hardened. “So you’re saying you won’t do the job?” His voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.

  “Are you going to be the one to do Delveccio’s dirty work if I refuse?”

  Releasing my wrist he spun away from me.

  He’d once told me he’d never hurt me. I waited for him to repeat that promise, but he didn’t say anything. Pulling a duffle bag from the car, he grabbed the dog’s bacon and headed into the barn.

  I stood alone for a long moment considering my options. I didn’t have many. I could either follow him inside or I could wait outside.

  DeeDee loped over, sat at my feet, and sniffed the air. “Bacon?”

  “He took it inside.”

  She eyed the barn longingly, but stayed by my side. “Upset Maggie?”

  I nodded.

  She nudged my hand with her head, offering comfort. “Patrick with upset?”

  I thought about that for a second before answering her. Patrick had treated me fairly the entire time I’d known him and had enabled me to provide the best possible care for Katie. He wasn’t the one who wanted Paul Kowalski dead, though I didn’t think he’d mind that the other cop was out of the picture.

  “It’s complicated,” I told the dog.

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. How could I explain that the idea of killing a stranger or a long-ago acquaintance was easier to wrap my head around than the thought of offing a guy I’d made out with? Instead I pet the dog’s head and said, “Why don’t you go see if he has more bacon for you?”