Maggie Lee | Book 26 | The Hitwoman and the Teddy Bear

by Lynn, JB

  I shook my head. “No, you don’t understand. I need to find the dog.”

  “He’s not here,” a less-heavily accented voice said from inside the shed.

  “Are you sure?” I put my hands on my hips, like I was exasperated, but I was really making sure the gun I’d tucked into the back of my waistband was covered by my shirt.

  “We’re sure,” the guy guarding the doorway confirmed.

  “Do you think you could help me look for him?” I asked, trying to sound both winsome and pathetic.

  Someone inside the shed said something in Russian.

  The guard made a face of disgust. “I will help you search.” He lumbered toward me.

  “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much, sir,” I babbled, catching another glimpse of Griswald.

  He was watching me intently.

  The other muscle guy no longer stood behind him. He and the suited man stood in the doorway.

  “He’s a pure-breed, you know. Royal lineage or something,” I continued to prattle on. With the attention of Griswald’s kidnappers on me, I could see Gino’s men maneuvering closer to the shed. “Stud fees. Can you imagine that? Paying money for dog semen?”

  “Eww,” God groaned.

  The muscle guy was almost on top of me. “We find. Come.” He pointed away from the cabin. “We look this way.”

  “Okay,” I agreed loudly. Followed by “Need Mike” under my breath.

  “Mike!” God bellowed. “Mike!”

  The squeaking on my shoulder had all the men staring at me.

  “It’s a lizard!” the muscle near me said with wonder.

  “This is Godzilla,” I told them. “God, for short.”

  They all looked at me like I’m crazy. I couldn’t blame them.

  “I’m here,” Mike announced, swooping in and flying in a circle overhead.

  Shaking his head, the muscle turned, ready to lead me away from the shed. I could see the outline of his weapon. Like mine, it was tucked into his waistband.

  I made a show of hurrying to catch up with him. “This is so nice of you, mister. If I don’t bring that dog home, my boss is gonna kill me.”

  “Someone’s going to kill you,” he muttered darkly.

  I stumbled, realizing then that he was leading me away so that he could dispose of me out of sight of Griswald.

  God must have understood the threat, too, because he bellowed, “Avian attack!”

  Mike flew at the muscle’s face, cawing a war cry.

  Startled, the man stumbled back. I grabbed his gun and fumbled with the safety.

  “DeeDee!” I screamed as the guy tried to bat away the bird.

  A flash of snarling and snapping black hit him square in the back, knocking him to the ground.

  As I turned back to the shed, I saw that Piss had launched herself at the crotch of the other goon. He was wailing in pain, punching at her. I thought I saw a flash of white circling his feet in an attempt to trip him.

  I ran toward the shed, the gun I’d stolen heavy in my hand.

  Meanwhile, as Anatov backed up toward Griswald, drawing his pistol, the U.S. Marshal kicked him in the back of the knee, sending him sprawling.

  The muscle man sent Piss flying, but before he could draw his own weapon, Gino was through the door, tackling him. The tackle was impressive considering Gino was half the size of the steroid-fueled freak he was taking on.

  I entered the shed just as Anatov got to his knees, his gun aimed at Griswald.

  “Drop it!” I shouted, pointing the weapon I’d taken off his comrade at him.

  He turned enough to sneer disdainfully at me, and then continued with his plan to execute Griswald.

  Pulse racing, I pulled the trigger.

  And so did he.

  25

  Two shots rang out.

  Griswald and his chair toppled to the ground with a crash.

  “No!” I screamed.

  A moment later, Anatov fell, his gun clattering across the floor.

  Meanwhile, Gino and the other man were still wrestling for dominance.

  I jumped between Griswald and Anatov, ready to shoot again. Clutching his chest, Anatov was gasping for breath like a fish out of water. He reached out a hand, silently begging for help as blood seeped through his shirt.

  I turned my back to him and concentrated on Griswald. His gaze on me was clouded with pain.

  I put down the weapon I’d used on Anatov to tend to Griswald.

  “You’re going to be okay,” I told him, searching for his bullet wound. Blood was pooling around us. I didn’t know whether it was his or Anatov’s.

  “Tell Susan, tell Susan I love her,” Griswald whispered.

  “Tell her yourself,” I countered. “You’re not going to die.” I grabbed his chin and stared into his eyes. “Do you hear me? You’re not going to die.”

  Even as I spoke, his eyes rolled back and he crumpled, lifeless.

  “Look out!” God screamed.

  Glancing up, I saw that Gino’s opponent had a gun aimed at us, while Gino tried to control him from behind. I reached for the gun on the floor, but it was slick from all the blood and hard to get hold of.

  He squeezed off a shot that whistled past my ear.

  Even as I raised the weapon, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull the trigger again. Not with Gino right behind him. I couldn’t have Gino be the collateral damage.

  The goon fired again, this shot wider than the first as Gino pulled him off balance.

  “Patrick,” God called.

  I tried to remember what Patrick had taught me about shooting, something about breathing, but my surging adrenaline drowned out the memory.

  Another shot exploded.

  And everything went still.

  I looked at the gun I held, not remembering pulling the trigger.

  Then, Gino pushed the man’s lifeless body off of him. “It’s okay, Maggie,” he soothed, ripping off his ski mask. “It’s okay. Just put down the gun.”

  Nodding, dazed, I slowly lowered it to my side.

  “You guys made a hell of a mess,” a voice said.

  Turning, I saw Patrick standing in the doorway of the shed, DeeDee by his side. He lowered his service weapon.

  “The big guy’s on you,” Gino told him. “You could have killed me.”

  “Then, Maggie would have shot me.” Patrick offered me a reassuring smile. “How you doing, Mags?”

  I blinked, slowly processing what had happened. “Griswald.”

  “Did he see you?” Patrick asked.

  “Griswald? Yes.”

  Patrick grimaced.

  “We’ve got to help him,” I insisted.

  “We will,” Patrick pledged, pulling out a switchblade and snapping it open.

  I pulled the gun tucked into my waistband and leveled it at him. “I won’t let you kill him.”

  Patrick froze.

  “Maggie, he’s not—” Gino began.

  “I was going to cut him off the chair,” Patrick explained. “Is that okay?”

  Ashamed I’d misread the situation so badly, I hung my head.

  “You go,” Patrick told Gino as he cut Griswald free. “Take your men. It took two of them to pin the guy outside to the ground.”

  “Can I take their prisoner, too?” Gino asked.

  Patrick nodded. “Probably a good idea. He’s the only one who could testify what was going on here.”

  “I should take that gun,” Gino told me. He held my gaze steadily as he reached toward me.

  I trembled as I handed it over, the shock and stress taking its toll on me.

  Gino gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay, Maggie. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “Not if you don’t get out of here,” Patrick muttered.

  Flashing a cheeky grin, Gino winked at me. “I’ll see you soon.” Then, he ran out of the shed.

  “You need to apply pressure to Griswald’s wound,” Patrick told me.

  I turned my attention to
the patient, pressing his ribcage where the redhead instructed. “Thank you, Patrick,” I murmured.

  “Thank DeeDee for leading me to you,” he muttered.

  “Good girl, DeeDee,” I told the dog.

  Pleased, she panted, “Girl good.”

  I glanced up at Patrick, noting the strain around his eyes. “Thank you for showing up.”

  “I always will for you, Mags. I always will.”

  26

  I sat on a tree stump, watching the police swarm the shed. I held Piss on my lap, Benny in my hand, had DeeDee at my side, and God was perched on my shoulder. Mike sat in a tree not far away.

  They were loading a still unconscious Griswald on an ambulance when his nephew, Detective Brian Griswald, showed up.

  He looked me over, taking in the fact my lower half was stained with blood, and stalked to my side. “You’re hurt?”

  I shook my head. “Not mine.”

  “I’m starting to think the time my uncle spends with you is bad for his health,” Brian said. “I’m not going to be the one to tell your aunt that you’re involved in whatever this was.”

  “I don’t blame you. Save yourself,” I joked weakly.

  He bent down and whispered, “Do you need a lawyer?”

  I glanced up, signaling my surprise. “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I looked over at Patrick talking to the detective in charge of the shooting investigation. He’d specifically said not to raise suspicions by asking for a lawyer. “I’m sure,” I told Brian.

  “What happened here, Maggie?” he asked.

  “Your uncle lived. You should go,” I told him as they closed the doors of the ambulance. “Follow him to the hospital.”

  Brian nodded, but made no move to leave.

  “I’m fine,” I assured him.

  “I doubt that,” he said. “Call if you need me.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  He turned to leave and then spun back. “Thank you. For whatever happened here. For whatever you did. Thank you.” Then, he jogged toward his car.

  The lead detective, a woman named Gracen, meandered over to me. “How are you doing, Miss Lee?”

  “A bit shaken up,” I admitted. The easiest lie to sell is one based in truth.

  “Understandable,” Gracen acknowledged. “Detective Mulligan tells me that your dog found this location?”

  “Me?” DeeDee panted, confused.

  I nodded to the detective. That was the story we’d agreed on.

  “Why did you call him directly and not 9-1-1?” Gracen asked.

  I shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t thinking straight. He’d helped my family before so…” I let the end of the sentence hang.

  “Makes sense,” Gracen replied easily. “Cheer up, Miss Lee. The good guys won today. The crime scene technicians will process you and then a patrol car will take you home.”

  “Can they take me to the hospital, instead?” I requested.

  She leaned closer, concerned. “Are you hurt?”

  “I just want to check on my uncle,” I told her.

  “Yeah,” she said. “You could do that, but if you want to help your family, you should go home, take a shower, and then go visit. You’re kind of a mess and might give them a heck of a fright, showing up looking like that.”

  I chuckled. “Good point.”

  I realized how right Detective Gracen had been when I finally got back home.

  Armani was sitting on the porch and she went wide-eyed when she got a good look at me after I’d climbed out of the police cruiser. “Don’t let the kids see you like that. They’ll be traumatized.”

  “You don’t look that bad, toots,” Mike cawed from a nearby fencepost.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “Stay there,” Armani ordered. “I think Marlene’s got them in the kitchen making more brownies.” She disappeared into the house.

  “Hungry,” DeeDee whined.

  “We all are,” God replied tiredly. “It’s been a long day.”

  “I’ll get you a snack,” Piss offered the lizard, running off toward the barn.

  Sometimes, I just love that cat.

  “Hungry,” DeeDee repeated.

  “I’ll get Armani to feed you,” I promised.

  “You need to eat, too,” God told me.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You need the fuel,” he said. “After all, we have a plan to put in place.”

  I groaned, remembering the teddy bear. “I forgot.”

  “Not to worry,” the lizard said self-importantly. “I have not, and my plan is perfect.”

  I rolled my eyes. Nothing in my life ever goes perfectly.

  Armani returned, put a finger to her lips indicating I should be quiet, and waved for me to enter the house.

  “They’re in the kitchen,” she whispered. “Go straight to your bathroom and get cleaned up.”

  “Thanks. Can you feed DeeDee and Piss?”

  “It would be my honor.” She limped toward the kitchen, the Doberman trailing behind hopefully.

  I hurried toward my bedroom. By the time I’d placed Benny and God in their respective enclosures, Piss had arrived, carrying a squirming cricket in her mouth. She dropped the insect in with the lizard, and I slammed the lid shut.

  As I poured some mouse food in Benny’s bowl, I told the cat, “Armani said she’d feed you.”

  “Thanks, sugar.” She pranced out, waving her tail.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Benny said before diving into his food dish.

  “You’re welcome.” I eyed my bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up in it.

  “Clean up and fuel up,” God said. At least, I think that’s what he said. It was kind of hard to tell since he was talking with a mouth full of cricket.

  I grudgingly showered and changed into fresh clothes.

  The kitchen smelled like warm chocolate when I stepped in. It looked like a war zone. Gobs of drying brownie batter dotted the walls.

  “There was a mishap with the electric mixer,” Marlene explained.

  I spotted her sitting at the table. She had chocolate smeared across her forehead, and what appeared to be eggshell stuck to her hair.

  “Rough day?” I asked.

  “It’s not every day you almost trip over a body.” She shrugged. “They found Griswald.”

  “Uh huh,” I replied carefully, unsure of how much of my role in his rescue would become public knowledge.

  “The witches went to see him.”

  I chuckled as she used our father’s nickname for our aunts. I rummaged in the fridge for something to eat. “Where are the girls?”

  “Doc’s watching a movie with them.”

  “He’s a saint,” I remarked, closing the fridge and pulling a jar of peanut butter out of the cabinet.

  “Or something very close,” she agreed. “Speaking of benevolent souls…Zeke was a big help today. He did a lot to keep Leslie and Loretta calm. He’s a good guy.”

  “He is,” I agreed, plunging a spoon into the jar I held.

  “But he’s not your guy?” my sister guessed.

  I shook my head, licking the peanut butter spoon like it was a lollipop.

  “You have good friends, Maggie. Loyal friends. He and Armani never waver. They’re always there for you.”

  “They are,” I agreed, remembering Patrick’s unwavering support. “I’m lucky that way.”

  Marlene nodded. “I’m glad Mia didn’t stick around.”

  I glanced at her sharply. It was an odd thing to say, considering the woman had just died.

  Marlene shrugged. “I never trusted her.”

  “Good call,” I murmured, my mouth full of peanut butter. “I gotta go.”

  “You’re going to the hospital?”

  “Soon,” I pledged. “I’ve just got something to take care of, first.”

  “I’ve got to get this kitchen cleaned up before Aunt Susan gets back and sees this mess.”

  �
�Good luck with that.”

  “I’ll need all the luck I can get,” she laughed.

  She wasn’t the only one.

  27

  “We’ve got a problem,” I told God, DeeDee, Piss, and Benny when I returned to my bedroom.

  “What’s that?” God asked.

  “I don’t have a car. I left it at the arcade.”

  “It’s here,” Piss said.

  I stared at her. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s parked behind the barn,” she assured me.

  “Huh.”

  “That Gino thinks of everything,” God admired.

  “I thought to send Patrick the GPS coordinates to the shed,” I reminded him.

  “Which was lucky, considering you charged in there like a maniac,” God countered.

  “I had to be the distraction,” I told him.

  “You couldn’t have discussed your plan with someone, first?”

  I shook my head. “No. Gino would have stopped me, and you would have tried to talk me out of it.”

  He stuck his tongue out at me. “I would have urged you to use some sense. What—”

  “Car,” Piss interrupted impatiently. “We have a car.”

  “Now, we just need to get the bear,” I said.

  “Bear!” DeeDee barked excitedly.

  “At least this time we have a plan,” God muttered.

  I picked up him and Benny, and the entire group walked out to my car. Mike was already sitting on top, waiting.

  Matilda was standing nearby.

  “Is she part of the plan?” I whispered under my breath.

  “No,” God whispered back.

  “Everything okay, sweetie?” I asked as I drew closer to the pig.

  “It stinks in there,” she complained.

  “In the barn?” I asked, thinking I really didn’t have time to muck out Irma’s stall.

  “In the house,” she clarified.

  “You don’t like the smell of chocolate?” I guessed.

  She grunted.

  “Chocolate,” DeeDee wagged her stub of a tail.

  “Chocolate is toxic for dogs,” God lectured. “Cats, too.”

  “Toxic?” the dog asked.

  “It. Will. Kill. You,” the lizard told her, enunciating each syllable.

  “It smells like it will kill you,” Matilda grumbled.