The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman)

by JB Lynn

  Marlene cocked her head to the side, considering. “Benny’s the same guy who electrocuted himself with the kite thing, isn’t he?”

  “Glad your public school education wasn’t a waste of time,” I teased.

  “Why do people go around quoting his advice that’s a thousand years old when the guy intentionally fried himself?”

  Templeton chuckled. “She has a point.”

  “He was one of this country’s Founding Fathers,” Susan reminded us. “And his advice isn’t a thousand years old. He lived during the 1700s.”

  “Oh,” Marlene said, tapping her forehead with her finger. “I slept through my math classes.”

  Everyone laughed. Even Susan.

  “Darlene used to love Susie’s potatoes,” Leslie sighed sadly.

  And just like that, the happy family dinner was destroyed. A pall of grief and loss settled over the room, cloaking any remaining joy in its gloominess.

  I watched as Marlene poked at her mashed potatoes listlessly. While we all missed Darlene, I couldn’t imagine the pain she suffered as she thought about her lost twin.

  For a moment I considered telling them I didn’t think Darlene was dead. I almost said aloud that I’d been told she was alive. After all, that was the message conveyed by Gypsy the psychic from my for-sure-dead sister Theresa. I thought better of it when I realized that if I said something like that, they might well have me committed along with my nutcase mom.

  So I kept my mouth shut, while I silently vowed I’d find her.

  Chapter Seven

  The need to find Darlene and ease the suffering of my family was foremost on my mind as I returned to the basement. I couldn’t say the same for God.

  “Where is it?” he demanded as I descended the stairs.

  “Where’s what?”

  “My new dwelling. I told you this morning that I need one, and once again, you’ve selfishly disregarded my needs.”

  I turned on every light in my temporary home and peered into the darkest corners, looking for him. “Where are you?”

  “What do you care?”

  “T.V.” DeeDee yipped helpfully, trotting over to sniff behind the two-ton relic that was propped on the television stand.

  “Traitorous beast,” God groused.

  Strolling over, I peered behind the outdated appliance and spotted the small, brown lizard glaring up at me defiantly. “What are you doing there?”

  “It’s warm,” he muttered, making a show of slowly stretching. “It’s damp down here. It’s not good for my old bones.”

  “Do lizards have bones?” I asked.

  “Like bones DeeDee.” The Doberman looked at me hopefully, perhaps thinking I’d magically pull one out of my back pocket for her to gnaw on.

  Shrugging apologetically, I told her, “Sorry. I’ve got nothing.”

  “You can say that again,” the lizard muttered. “You’re gone all day and then you come back empty-handed.”

  I frowned at him. “Listen, mister, you have no idea what kind of day I had. I went to work. I visited Katie. I—”

  “You touched tonsils with your favorite killer,” God interjected.

  Ignoring him, I continued. “I got an assignment from that creepy Ms. Whitehat. I played peacemaker with—”

  “What kind of assignment, Sugar?” Piss purred, her tail twitching.

  “You know what they say about cats and curiosity, don’t you?” the lizard snapped.

  Coolly disregarding him, the cat watched me intently out of her good eye. “C’mon, Sugar. Spill.”

  Sinking down onto the couch, I told them about the unsettling call and being paired up with oh-so-cute Candace.

  “Help DeeDee,” the dog volunteered. “Finder good.”

  “Dog brain bad,” God mocked.

  “Shut up, jackass,” Piss hissed, stretching her front legs out and flashing her claws.

  “Help,” the mutt insisted, walking over to plop her head in my lap. She stared at me with those big, dark eyes and I couldn’t bring myself to turn down her offer. A decision I’d later come to regret.

  “What does Whitehat want with this Ghost?” Piss asked.

  “I dunno.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to be found,” the cat suggested. “You know that saying, Not all those who wander are lost. Maybe he’s hiding from Whitehat and her band of ne’er-do-wells.”

  “Who said that?” God demanded.

  “It’s from a poem in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.”

  “I love that movie!” God declared.

  “Precious,” the cat drawled, “but we’re not talking about a stupid movie. “We’re talking about the well-being of a real, living creature. Are you sure you want to do this, Maggie?”

  “What I really want to do is find my sister, Darlene,” I told her.

  “One dead?” DeeDee asked cocking her head to the side, signaling her confusion.

  “That woman who reeked of patchouli told her she’s not dead,” God reminded the canine.

  “Lady stinky.” The Doberman covered her snout with her paw indicating she remembered Gypsy, the woman who talked to ghosts, helped me break up a sex slavery ring, and inadvertently saved Patrick from Delveccio’s wrath.

  “Are you positive that returning this Ghost to that woman is the best idea?” Piss asked, bringing the conversation back on track.

  Sighing, I admitted, “I hadn’t thought about that. I guess when I do catch him, I’ll have to ask him what the deal is.”

  “So when you’re done taking care of this stranger,” God complained. “Maybe you’ll get around to my needs?”

  “Ye of little faith.” I walked over and plucked the glass enclosure I’d bought for him earlier out of the tote bag I’d left on the table. With a flourish, I presented it to him with a slight bow, holding it out like it was a crown jewel.

  “You have got to be joking.” Disdain dripped from every syllable.

  Straightening I eyed the glass. “You don’t like it?”

  “It’s a fish bowl,” the lizard thundered. “Literally. You literally want me to live in a fish bowl. Of all the demeaning, disrespectful, insulting—”

  “Okay, okay.” I hid the offensive bowl behind my back. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “It’s a fish bowl!” the lizard shouted.

  “Apparently it’s a fish bowl, Sugar,” Piss mocked, her voice soft, but her tone sarcastic.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, desperate to appease the little lizard who’d gone back behind the television.

  He didn’t answer.

  “I’ll get you another,” I promised.

  He remained silent.

  “You just need to tell me what you want.”

  He stuck his head out from around the television set. “I want something sleek, modern, with views and good bones.”

  “You watch way too much House Hunters,” Piss remarked.

  “I most certainly do not.”

  “Do too. Don’t you think so, Maggie?”

  I was saved from answering by a sharp knock at the top of the basement stairs.

  “Okay if I come in?” Aunt Loretta trilled.

  “Sure,” I yelled back, wondering if her sudden sense of boundaries was Templeton’s influence. In the past she would have just thrown open the door and marched downstairs.

  She teetered down the steps on high heels that a woman her age had no reason to wear and peered at me through her fake eyelashes. “Are you alone?”

  “Except for the DeeDee, Piss, and God.”

  “God?” she asked. “Is Leslie’s incessant chatter about a Higher Power helping her stay clean making you religious too?”

  “Godzilla, Katie’s lizard,” I explained. Then, because I felt like Aunt Leslie probably could use as much support as she could get, I added, “I know she’s talking about it a lot, but I think that’s just because she’s excited.”

  “Excitement wears off,” Loretta said, gingerly sitting down on the couch. “Take it
from me.”

  I wondered if that was why she’d ventured downstairs, to tell me about her relationship woes with Templeton. A loving, supportive niece would have offered a shoulder to cry on, but all I said was, “You never said what it is you want Armani to help you to find.”

  Leslie shook her head. “That’s between her and me.”

  “Ohhhh…. kay,” I said slowly. “So what brings you down here to my humble abode?”

  “Excitement. It wears off you know.” Leslie removed first one shoe and then the other.

  “So you said, but if it’s helping keep Leslie motivated to go to her meetings and stay clean, I can’t see that it’s a bad thing.”

  “I’m not talking about Leslie. I’m talking about love.”

  “Oh.” I sank into the nearest seat knowing that this was going to be a long, one-sided conversation where Loretta lamented her inability to find a man who’d keep her satisfied, emotionally, intellectually, and physically. (It was a conversation we’d had at least three times already about her other “true loves.”)

  “Love,” Loretta sighed.

  I remembered the lessons I’d learned at Insuring the Future. Basically, even if someone said or did something extremely stupid, I was supposed to say, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  While Loretta twirled her engagement ring, staring at it sadly, I mentally rehearsed the line so I’d be able to use it.

  “It’s not for the faint of heart. You know that, don’t you, Maggie?”

  Biting my tongue, afraid I’d waste my faux empathy at the wrong time, I nodded.

  “I’m worried.”

  “You are?”

  It was her turn to nod. She kept staring at the ring, not making eye contact with me.

  “You think there’s something untrustworthy about him?” I hadn’t trusted Templeton from the moment I’d first spotted him at the dinner table.

  Her nod was curt.

  “It’s weird how he’s always sneaking around.”

  “It is,” she agreed carefully. “But maybe he has his reasons.”

  Considering I’d found Templeton lurking in strange places like the attic, I wasn’t sure I agreed with her assessment.

  “And he does have his good qualities,” Loretta murmured. “He’s brave and heroic.”

  I couldn’t disagree with her there. More than once Templeton had come to my rescue, even putting himself in mortal danger to save my life.

  Who was I to judge a man who’d never done anything to me? The one person who’d defended me at Alice’s wedding when everyone else was thinking the worst of me. The man who’d prevented Paul Kowalski from raping and murdering me in my childhood bedroom.

  Overcome with guilt, I buried my head in my hands.

  “You love him, don’t you?” Loretta asked gently.

  I jerked my head to look at her like maybe she needed to be sharing a room with my mom, her sister, in the mental institution. “You love him….or at least you’re in love with him.”

  “What? I’m not… Where did you ever?” I spluttered. I seriously worried that she’d gone round the bend if she thought I was somehow enamored with, or even fond of, her man.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly. “You don’t have to worry. I know Susan wouldn’t approve, so my lips are sealed.” She pantomimed zipping her lips.

  “Susan wouldn’t approve?” I leaned forward, trying to spot the madness cloaked behind her false eyelashes. “What about you?’

  She chuckled as though she found that funny. “My dear, I’m certainly not one to pass judgments on affairs of the heart.”

  I collapsed back in my chair, too flabbergasted to speak.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dear,” she assured me.

  I blinked. “But—”

  “Maggie’s from Mars, Loretta’s from Venus,” God remarked in his most bored tone of voice.

  “Huh?” I asked eloquently.

  “Figure it out,” he taunted.

  “I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” Loretta smiled.

  “I don’t—” I protested.

  Undeterred she continued. “And even though he tries to hide it, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “You have?” The idea of Templeton making puppy dog eyes at me made me feel sick to my stomach.

  “But remember what I said about excitement?” Leslie continued, unaware she was coming close to making me barf. “It doesn’t last. While all this sneaking around is fun and exhilarating, it won’t last.”

  “I’m not sneaking around.”

  She raised an eyebrow that had been drawn on with the precision with a great artist.

  “I’m not.”

  “Well, then, I guess if you want to get technical, he is. Not that I can blame the poor man for wanting to see you.”

  Bile rose in my throat at the thought of Templeton sneaking in to see me. “He sneaks in here?”

  “Oh don’t play coy, Maggie. It doesn’t suit you.”

  I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to retch.

  It was Piss who took pity on me, wending between my legs and purring. “She’s not talking about her man, Sugar. She’s talking about yours.”

  Suddenly, I saw everything Loretta said in a different light. I let out a long, shaky breath as the release from stress made me lightheaded. “Thank heavens,” I muttered.

  “Fool,” God mocked.

  “What’s that squeaking sound?” Loretta asked.

  “The lizard,” I replied flatly.

  “I do NOT squeak!” he yelled.

  “I beg to differ,” the cat responded with a yawn. “You be the tie-breaker, big Dee. Does his holiness of the reptilian persuasion squeak?”

  The poor dog, no doubt confused, cocked her head. “Huh?”

  “A creature after your own heart,” the lizard informed me smugly. “You must be so proud.”

  “Hush, jackass,” the cat hissed, the hair along her back puffing up to illustrate her annoyance.

  “He’s going to get caught,” Loretta said.

  Since she seemed to know all about Patrick’s visits, it seemed he’d already been caught. I thought about Patrick Mulligan’s Life lessons: How to Take One and How Not to End Up with a Life Sentence.

  “Susan won’t be as understanding as I am,” Loretta warned.

  “Life Lesson Number One: Don’t get caught,” I whispered to myself. The man had broken his own rule. He’d broken it to see me. A warm thrill blossomed in my chest radiating through my body. I’m pretty sure I grinned.

  “You’re not in the best place to start a relationship,” Loretta suggested gently.

  This from the woman who gave Elizabeth Taylor a run for her money in terms of how many times she’d married.

  “I understand he was all heroic and saved DeeDee, and he is an attractive man, but is that what you want your future to be based on, Maggie? A guy who burst in and swept your dog up?”

  Realizing she believed that the first time Patrick and I had met was when Paul Kowalski had tried to kill me and had stabbed my dog, I chose my words carefully. I couldn’t very well tell her that DeeDee (or Doomsday as she’d been called back then) had saved Patrick’s life, helping to drag him out of a burning house, where we’d gone to kill her master, a scummy, blackmailing hitman, Gary the Gun. “I hear what you’re saying, Aunt Loretta.”

  She nodded her approval.

  I fought the urge to cross my fingers behind my back as I remembered the way he kissed and touched me. “I’ll take it slow with him. I promise.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want you to be happy,” she hurried to assure me. “It’s just that I wouldn’t want to see you repeat the same mistakes I’ve made. There are no such things as knights in shining armor, who ride white steeds and take you to Happily Ever After.”

  Hearing such cynical words from my always “in love” aunt was a shock.

  “You’re responsible for your own happiness, Margaret,” she told me solemnly. “Never look to a
man to give that to you.”

  “Then why keep getting married?” I asked her.

  She grinned, but I saw sadness shimmering in her eyes. “Because being happy alone isn’t a heck of a lot of fun.”

  “You’re having problems with Templeton?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know why everyone thinks that. He’s fine. The problem is mine.”

  “Can I help?”

  “There’s the blind leading the blind,” God mocked.

  I looked to Piss for support.

  She licked her paw, squinting at me with her good eye. “He’s not wrong about everything.”

  “I think your friend, Elana, is the only who one can help.”

  “Armani,” I corrected automatically.

  “Armani.”

  “I don’t know if finding missing things is even in her repertoire,” I told my aunt, while at the same time I was thinking I’d been an idiot not to ask her for help finding Ghost.

  But at least I had DeeDee lined up to help.

  For whatever that was worth.…

  Chapter Eight

  As agreed, I met Candace downtown at eight in the morning. On Saturdays, the stores don’t open until ten, so the place had the deserted, spooky feel of a ghost town. My head had the distant pounding feeling of having left the house without caffeine consumption.

  For once, I hadn’t started the day with “Gotta! Gotta!” being panted in my ear. I’d forgotten to set my alarm and had overslept since the dog hadn’t awakened me.

  Instead, the cat kneaded my chest, so I woke up to her rumbling purr and her nails piercing my flesh.

  I’d vowed then to just remember to set my damn clock since the animal alarm system always proved to be unpleasant.

  Massaging the back of my neck, trying to ward off the impending headache, I waited for Candace at the predetermined corner. I wasn’t alone.

  DeeDee lay at my feet, vigilant, convinced she was going to spot the missing dog. God, nestled between my breasts, complained about being dragged out at the early hour. I’d told him the only way he was going to get to see Katie today was if he came along on this dog-catching adventure.

  He was there, but he was making it clear he wasn’t happy about it.