The Hitwoman and the Exorcism

by J. B. Lynn

  “I met someone,” he said slowly.

  “Another woman,” Armani guessed.

  He shook his head. “No. I met a man.”

  “Oooh,” Armani practically cooed. “I wouldn’t have thought you were the type.”

  “My car broke down. It was raining and he stopped to help. He was a strange man. Some kind of book dealer, I think. He wore a top hat and carried a cane.” He grew quiet, as though entranced by the memory.

  I gave him a light shake of encouragement. “And then what happened?”

  “He drove me home. They did not hit it off,” Herschel said with a bitter chuckle. “They only met twice, the first time they took an instant dislike to each other.”

  “And the second time,” I asked curiously.

  He blinked and shook his head, as though trying to clear it of cobwebs. “I can’t really remember,” he said. “I seem to remember there was some sort of argument between them, but I don’t remember what it was about, or what happened.”

  He dropped his head back into his hands and moaned. “I never said goodbye to my girls,” he said. “I just woke up in a different place and never went home.”

  “But you stayed close to them,” I reminded him.

  “I love Susan, Mary, Loretta, and Leslie,” he said. “I know I messed up, and I let them down, I left them with her…” He let out a shuddering sob. “It’s no wonder that Mary lives in that place,” he moaned.

  I often wondered myself how much of an influence my evil grandmother had had on my mother’s fragile mental state. But this wasn’t a time for blame, this was a time to search for answers. “This man,” I said. “Your friend, where is he?”

  Herschel shook his head sadly. “I never saw him again, either.”

  Armani and I shared a worried look. I wondered if she, too, thought we were missing a very important piece of the puzzle. What if we couldn’t exorcise my grandmother from Zippy without this other player?

  A knock on the door startled everyone in the room. “Maggie?” Griswald called. “Are you in there?”

  Knowing that my car was parked out front, I didn’t think it was a good idea to try to hide from him. “Just a sec,” I said.

  “We need to talk,” he announced.

  I swallowed a lump of anxiety that arose from his tone. “I’ll be right there.”

  Trying not to give in to the panic that made me want to run from the house, I straightened my spine, hoping that would help in dealing with whatever new problem had arisen.

  23

  “Do you mind if we take a walk?” Griswald asked.

  I nodded, hoping I didn’t appear too nervous. I gave Piss a sidelong look.

  “Don’t worry, sugar,” she meowed. “The protective detail is on duty.”

  I followed Griswald out of the house and out toward the barn. When we reached it, he stopped and looked up at the sky. “Beautiful night.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “You can see some constellations,” he said.

  I really didn’t think he had taken me out here to stargaze, but I played along. “I see Orion,” I said. “Besides that, I don’t really know any others.”

  He tilted his head and gave me a hard look.

  “That isn’t Orion?” I asked, wondering if I’d spent my entire life mis-identifying stars.

  “It’s Orion.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. I had enough problems without getting my constellations wrong, too.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground. I wondered if he was going to identify something there.

  “Is something on your mind?” I asked finally.

  He nodded. “Susan told you that I’m being retired?”

  The bitterness in his tone made me wince. “She mentioned it.”

  “It’s not my idea,” he said.

  I nodded my understanding but didn’t know what to say to make him feel better.

  He began to walk and I fell into step beside him. I wasn’t too happy that we were heading up the driveway, considering that’s where the Concords’ man had died. Not that I thought there was any evidence there, at least I hoped not, but revisiting the scene with a law enforcement officer did not do much to settle my nerves.

  “Do you know why I became a U.S. Marshal?” Griswald asked.

  I shook my head.

  “But if you had to guess, what would you think?”

  “You like putting bad guys away?” I asked, wondering if this was him preparing to put me away.

  “A fair guess.” He stopped again and stared at the ground.

  In the distance, I could see the faint glow coming from RV’s vehicle. I really hoped we weren’t going to go visit her, considering she had the skull there.

  “I thought I believed in the law,” Griswald said.

  “Thought?” I said, surprised. He’d always seemed like a straight up, law and order, kind of guy to me.

  He nodded and tilted his head up so he could look at the sky again. “But I’m not.”

  I blinked, not knowing what to say. Was he suddenly going to admit that he was some sort of master criminal who’d been using the U.S. Marshal service to hide behind while he pulled off all kinds of dastardly deeds?

  “The law,” he said slowly, “is a means to attaining justice.”

  I absorbed that for a moment. I suppose he had a point.

  “But,” he said, again the bitterness creeping into his tone, “it’s not always a means to achieving justice.” He paused for a moment, allowing me to process what he had said. “I can’t tell you how many people manage to subvert the laws,” he said, shaking his head.

  I gulped, wondering if the remark was directed at me. Did he somehow know what had happened to Concord’s man? Was he getting ready to arrest me? I tried to think of what I would do. I guess I could run, but I didn’t think I would get far, even if I could physically outrun him, which I doubted. And where would I go? To Delveccio? Panic filled me as I realized I was on the cusp of losing everything that mattered to me, my family and my freedom.

  I tried to think of how I could explain away my actions, how I could beg him for forgiveness.

  “I want to bring people to justice,” Griswald announced. “I want to give justice to those who deserve it.”

  I nodded slowly, knowing that the best offense was silence.

  “And I want you to help me.”

  “Me?” I squeaked nervously.

  He nodded emphatically. “Yes.” He lowered his gaze from the sky to give me an assessing look. “I think you’d be good at it.”

  Considering I go around killing bad people, I didn’t think his assessment was too off base, but I couldn’t tell him that.

  “I don’t think—”

  He shook his head. “We’d make a good team, Maggie.”

  “Doing what?” I found myself asking, against my better judgment.

  “I want to open a private investigation service. This and that,” he said.

  I fell into step beside him. “I don’t really think I’m cut out for leg work, chasing down cheating spouses, and people trying to scam insurance companies.”

  “Those aren’t the kinds of cases I’m interested in taking.”

  Despite myself, I could feel my curiosity piquing.

  “I want to look at cold cases, and for children who have been kidnapped,” he revealed.

  “That’s admirable,” I said.

  “I think you’d be good at it,” Griswald reiterated. “You’re passionate, you’re driven, you love children, and you have a sense of right and wrong.”

  I choked down a chuckle. If he knew that my sense of right and wrong included killing people, his assessment of me might change.

  “I’m not any kind of business expert,” I said. “But that doesn’t sound like the kind of work that would necessarily be fiscally lucrative.”

  “We have a benefactor,” he revealed. “We don’t need our clients to pay us.”

  “We?”

  “Y
ou and I,” he said with conviction.

  “I don’t know.” I stopped, not wanting to go near the site where the Concords’ man had died. I mimicked his motion of staring at the ground, deep in thought, when all I was trying to do was figure out how to get out of this situation. It wasn’t as though I had any other viable employment opportunities on the horizon. “Who’s this benefactor?”

  Griswald cleared his throat nervously.

  I glanced over at him. The Marshal wasn’t the type to get nervous.

  He frowned. “I can’t say.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” I challenged.

  “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

  “Not the best way to start out a partnership,” I muttered.

  He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, making it clear he knew I had my secrets.

  My stomach clenched and I swallowed hard to control my anxiety.

  But Griswald is a decent guy. Probably someone who was all for “don’t ask, don’t tell” when it was in vogue. “At least tell me you’ll think about it, Maggie,” he urged. “It’s an opportunity to make a difference in the world. Not too many people get that.”

  I nodded, trying to ignore the part of me that wanted to accept his offer. It would be too dangerous to work hand in hand with a former law enforcement officer, especially one married to my aunt, but it was tempting to make a difference.

  24

  We were meeting Ann, the witch, at a coffee shop where the brew cost three times what a cup of diner coffee does and doesn’t taste half as good. But who was I to turn down caffeine? I ordered a large, sans foam, flavored syrup, or any kind of alternative milk that doesn’t come from an animal.

  I turned to RV and asked what she wanted.

  She held the fabric sack that contained the skull by her side. “Water.”

  I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “Just water?”

  “Caffeine doesn’t agree with me.”

  The perky, pony-tailed barista helpfully pointed out, “We have an assortment of herbal teas.”

  RV shuddered with revulsion. “No thanks.”

  “They’re very good for you,” she continued. “Antioxidants are healthy and I can recommend an herb for what ails you.”

  I clenched my teeth, thinking that all that ailed me was how annoying she was, but I let RV answer for herself.

  “What’s bothering you today?” the woman behind the counter asked.

  “I just want water,” RV said in a tone that conveyed she wouldn’t be elaborating.

  “She has healthier habits than you, too,” God pointed out from his hiding place in my bra.

  The barista’s eyes grew wide at the squeaking sound coming from my chest.

  “Water,” I snapped at her. “And my large coffee.”

  Startled, she nodded and scurried off.

  I snuck a sideways glance at my companion. She kept glancing at the door every time it opened. “We’re early,” I reminded her.

  She nodded tightly.

  “And she’s prompt,” God said.

  “I’m prompt,” I muttered defensively. Sure, RV had a lot of admirable qualities, but she was also considered to be a murderer.

  Another barista rang up our order while we waited for the first to return with our drinks.

  “Large coffee, naked as a baby’s butt,” she yelled out, even though I was the only one waiting for a hot drink.

  I tilted my head to the side, refusing to respond to her theatrics by begging her to hand it over. She hesitated, as though no one had given her the mute treatment before. I found that odd, considering her aggravating demeanor.

  Finally, with a heavy, disappointed sigh, she handed over our drinks.

  I did not make a deposit in the tip jar.

  RV picked a table at the rear of the shop, sitting with her back to the wall so she could watch the door. She stowed the skull beneath the table. I slid into the seat opposite her and slid her bottle of water across the table.

  “Thanks.”

  To fill the awkward silence, I asked, “How do you know so much about witches?”

  She raised her eyebrows and gave a slight shake of her head as she focused on a drop of condensation traveling down the bottle. “I don’t know much.”

  “But you knew how to find one.”

  She bit the side of her lip and gave me a one-shouldered shrug.

  “Are you a witch?” I asked.

  She shook her head and raised her gaze up to meet mine. “My mother-in-law was one.”

  “For real?”

  “Too real.”

  I let out a low whistle. “That must have sucked.”

  “You have no idea.”

  She looked away as the door to the shop opened, then raised a hand in greeting.

  I turned to see Ann coming toward us.

  “Your usual Witches Brew?” the barista asked, indicating Ann was a regular.

  “Double shot of CBD,” Ann replied to the barista as she settled into the seat that was at a ninety-degree angle to both RV and myself. She confided to us in a low voice, “I’m feeling a bit frazzled.”

  I shot RV a worried look, wondering what it meant that our witch was frazzled.

  RV didn’t appear concerned. “We found the skull.” She began to reach under the table.

  “Excellent. Then we can discuss my fee.”

  RV froze and then straightened.

  I gulped. I hadn’t considered that I’d have to pay the witch for her services. I’d just assumed she’d perform the exorcism free of charge…like a priest would…assuming that priests don’t get paid for having pea soup spit at them.

  Ann waited while the barista delivered her drink, a steaming cup of some kind of flowery herb concoction with a stick of blue rock candy on the side.

  “About my payment,” she said, using the candy to stir her drink and turn it bright blue. She turned her attention to RV and said with a smirk, “I’m sure Mildred told you I’d demand payment.”

  RV met her gaze steadily, remaining silent.

  “How much?” I asked, trying to remember how much I had in my bank account, while wondering if Armani’s lottery winnings were available in cash.

  Ann turned toward me, made a show of sipping her blue drink, and considered me over the rim of her cup. “I don’t require monetary compensation,” she began.

  I felt a surge of relief, but it was short-lived.

  “I do, however, need some items.”

  Something about the way she said it let me know that what she needed wasn’t stuff sold at Walmart. “What kind of items?”

  “I’ve made a list.” She pulled a star-shaped note out of a pocket and put it down in front of me.

  Before I could read the first item, RV snatched the paper up and scanned it. “So you’re sending her on a scavenger hunt?”

  Ann sipped from her blue drink before replying. “I doubt she’s capable of pulling that off considering the time constraints we’re under, don’t you?”

  RV watched her, motionless, not batting an eye.

  “So I’m sending both of you on a scavenger hunt.” The witch’s lips curled into a self-satisfied smile. “Unless, of course, you choose not to help her.”

  I felt a surge of pity for RV when I realized the other woman was manipulating her, but at the same time, selfishly, I desperately needed RV to go along and help me. I held my breath as I saw frustration simmering in the depths of RV’s gaze.

  “It’s your choice,” Ann said in a superior tone. “Free will and all.”

  Remembering what Herschel had said, I interrupted the stare down. “I have a question about that.”

  Ann turned her attention to me.

  “My grandfather doesn’t seem to remember how he ended up with my grandmother, or how he ended up leaving her. Could that be some sort of spell?”

  I felt RV’s attention suddenly boring into me. “He doesn’t remember?”

  I shook my head. “Anyway, I was wondering if that’s something we have to worry
about with the exorcism.”

  The witch tilted her head to the side and observed me thoughtfully. “There’s a fine line between incantations. One could cast a spell to fall in love or a curse to bind one to another.”

  RV made a choking noise.

  I glanced over at her, but her attention was focused on fiddling with the silver charm bracelet on her wrist.

  Ann drained the rest of her blue drink and got to her feet. “It won’t matter if you can’t bring me the items on my list before tomorrow night.”

  “But…” I began to protest.

  RV gave me a sharp look and shook her head, silencing me.

  “They’ll pay for my drink,” Ann told the barista as she walked out of the shop. She paused in the doorway and looked back at us. “Don’t forget to look in the bottom of the cup,” she said before walking away.

  Curious, I did as she said.

  I gasped when I saw what remained there.

  “It’s a parlor trick,” RV said as she peered at the dregs that remained in the cup that were in the shape of a skull.

  I wasn’t reassured. “What’s on the list?”

  “Read it out loud,” God insisted from his hiding space.

  RV pushed the star-shaped paper across the table for me.

  “One railroad spike. Two yards of poison ivy.”

  “Easy peasy,” God announced.

  I continued reading, “Three teeth of a dog. Four finger bones.”

  “Disgusting,” the lizard complained.

  I finished the list. “Five cups of gorilla poo. And six ounces pumpkin spice coffee.”

  “Doable,” God said.

  “Where the hell are we supposed to find gorilla poo?” RV asked.

  “The zoo,” God and I answered simultaneously.

  She nodded slowly. “I guess.”

  I was way more worried about the dog’s teeth and finger bones, but I decided not to voice that concern. Instead, I said, “Do you think she needs all this stuff for the exorcism?”

  RV shook her head. “I doubt it.”

  “Then why…?”

  “I’m pretty sure we don’t want to know.” She reached under the table and picked up the bag with the skull. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”