Read Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Online
Authors: Jb Lynn
I did, cringing at how bright the red shone.
Loretta beamed at me in the mirror. “That’s my favorite. It’s called Poison Kiss. Isn’t it great?”
My gaze dropped to the vial of poison hanging around my neck. For a few minutes, I’d forgotten what I had to do the next day.
But first I had to survive the night.
I
MADE IT
through the rest of the rehearsal dinner unscathed. I met Lamont’s family and friends, posed for pictures with Alice, and ate two pieces of cake. (I’d missed dinner and was starving.)
I was just inhaling the crumbs of the second piece when Aunt Susan walked up to me. I thought I’d found a pretty secluded corner to hide in, but I should have known that I couldn’t hide from her.
“Margaret?”
I swallowed my crumbs. “I know what you’re going to say.” I really didn’t want a lecture. I just wanted to eat my cake in peace, support Alice, and go home.
“I doubt that.”
An unfamiliar man in his sixties, built as solid as an oak door, stepped up behind Susan.
Realizing that if I could engage him in conversation, Aunt Susan wouldn’t get the chance to lecture me, I practically knocked her over to get him. “Hi. I’m Maggie. The maid of honor . . . well, as you probably heard, the world’s worst maid of honor, but I’ve been forgiven that.”
Smiling, he took my outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Maggie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
There was something in his tone that made me think he wasn’t just being polite with that statement. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
“It’s almost all been good,” he confided in a mock-whisper.
Confused, I asked, “I’m sorry. How do you know Alice and Lamont?”
He turned toward Susan and raised his eyebrows.
She placed a possessive hand on his elbow. “Margaret, I’d like you to meet Bob.”
“Bob?” I asked, still confused.
“Bob Waites,” he said.
“My date,” Susan supplied.
I looked from her, to the man standing beside her, and back to her. “Your date?” I squeaked.
“Did you think she was a cloistered nun?” God asked from my handbag.
I ignored him. “Your date?” I asked again like an imbecile.
Susan nodded.
“We’ve been seeing each other for almost a year,” Bob said, wrapping his beefy arm around my slim aunt’s shoulders and squeezing.
For a moment, I was too shocked to speak. Aunt Loretta was the serial dater/marry-er in the family. I’d never known Aunt Susan to even go out for coffee with someone and now I was finding out she’d been seeing this guy for almost a year. “He’s your boyfriend?” I squeaked.
She sniffed her disdain. “No adult over the age of twenty-five should ever refer to their romantic relationships as ‘boyfriends’ or ‘girlfriends.’ It sounds ridiculous.”
“But,” I spluttered. “How? How could you?”
“I told her it wasn’t fair of her to just spring me on everyone like this,” Bob said kindly. “She should have at least told you of my existence before dragging me to these shindigs.”
I looked up at him. “I apologize. I’ve been rude. It’s just . . .”
“It’s just that no one in this family keeps secrets from one another,” Susan said.
“Ha!” God shouted. “If you only knew!”
I gave the bag a shake to keep him quiet.
“Sensitive skin,” he grumbled quietly.
“Susan’s told me all you’ve done for your niece. Quite impressive,” Bob said.
I nodded dumbly, still trying to wrap my head around the idea my uptight, straitlaced aunt had been secretly dating someone.
“My sister owns a real estate company. She’s always looking to hire people with drive and initiative.” He held out a business card. “You should give her a call if you’re ever looking for a job.”
I took the card. “Thanks.”
“Bob’s in construction,” Susan said. “He’s one of the contractors I’d contacted about converting the barn. He’s going to start working on it on Monday.”
“But I don’t know—” I began.
“You’ll be able to tell your lawyer about it.” Susan reached out and patted my arm. “It’ll help you win custody.”
“But I’m tapped out,” I said. “I can’t afford . . .”
“Don’t worry about it,” Susan said. “Bob’s doing the job for us for cost.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Waites, but—”
“Call me Bob,” he interrupted.
“That’s very kind of you, Bob, but—”
“It’s been taken care of, Margaret.” Aunt Susan’s tone warned that I should stop arguing.
I opened my mouth, saw the determined glint in her eye, and said weakly, “Okay.”
“Mind if I steal Maggie for a moment?” Zeke swept into the conversation, grabbed me around my waist, and propelled me away.
I went willingly.
“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning close, so that his breath tickled my ear.
“That’s her date!”
“Yeah. I met him earlier. Nice enough guy. Solid.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as he steered me across the room.
“The guests are almost all gone.”
Glancing around the room, I realized he was right. The place was practically deserted.
“Say your good-byes to the happy couple,” he said, “and then I’m taking you home.”
I stumbled a bit, the heat in his last couple of words arrowing straight to my belly. I peeked up at him and saw the same warmth shimmering in his blue gaze. He smiled, a slow, lazy grin filled with sensual promise.
“Are you two leaving?” Alice asked, interrupting the moment.
“Unless you need us for something,” Zeke responded smoothly, as though he hadn’t been flirting with me the moment before.
“No. Of course not. You’ve done so much.” Alice moved to hug him, which meant he had to let go of me.
I swayed a bit, acutely aware of the loss.
“Both of you.” Alice turned to hug me. “I love the necklace, Maggie. It’s perfect.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I hugged her tightly.
“See you tomorrow?”
“Promise.”
I turned to walk away. Zeke was nowhere to be seen.
He’d done it again. Just taken off without so much as a good-bye. I hated how much that stung. Determined not to cry, I stalked out of the restaurant and marched, well, more like teetered, across the parking lot. I hated those shoes.
“Maggie! Maggie, wait up!”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Zeke hurrying after me.
I tried to speed up, but the heels wouldn’t let me.
Zeke fell into step beside me. “I had them pack up your dinner.” He held a paper bag up in front of me.
I snatched it from him. “Thanks.”
“I’ll drive you home,” he offered.
“I can manage on my own.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
“You disappeared again.”
“You missed dinner. I figured you’d be hungry.”
Getting to the car, we were greeted by DeeDee barking, “Gotta! Gotta!”
“Hi, DeeDee.” Zeke’s greeting was warmly affectionate.
I wasn’t happy that it took some of the edge off the mad-on I was nursing.
“Gotta! Gotta!”
“Let her out before she makes a mess,” God urged from my purse.
Zeke eyed the bag curiously.
I was in no mood to explain the high-pitched squeaks coming from the clutch.
“I did tell you it would be a long wait,” I muttered, yanking open the door. I barely managed to grab her leash before she went bounding for the nearest patch of grass. Her momentum plus my heels had me pirouetting like a deranged ballerina.
Fortunately, Zeke was there to catch me. Wordlessly he righted me, took the leash, and went off with the dog.
I sank into the driver’s seat, glad to get off my feet.
“Let me out of this thing,” God demanded.
“You’re the one who insisted on coming along.” I put the purse on the front passenger seat and popped it open.
Clambering out, he climbed up and settled himself on the dashboard. “What’s in the bag? It smells vile.”
Actually it smelled mouthwateringly good. I opened the foil container and spotted mashed potatoes, baby vegetables, and prime rib. I popped a carrot into my mouth. Even cold it tasted good.
I watched Zeke and DeeDee in the rearview mirror. He was playing with the dog, who was eating it up.
“So your best friend is a violent bitch, your—” God began.
“She is not. She’s freaked out about the wedding is all.”
“She
slapped
you.”
“It’s no big deal. We worked it out.”
“It’s no big deal?”
Tearing my gaze away from man and dog, I glared at the lizard. “I’m done talking about this.”
He shrank back against the windshield. “What would you rather talk about? How your aunt is
getting more
than you?”
I opened my mouth to protest the crude comment, but I realized he was probably right.
“Or maybe you’d like to talk about how you’re perfectly willing to stick your tongue down Mr. ’Roid Rage’s throat.”
“I’m not! I made a mistake with Paul. It was just a momentary lapse in judgment.”
“Which would have been a worse mistake if I hadn’t stopped you.”
I hung my head. “Yes. You were right.”
“And I was right that you shouldn’t kiss the redhead,” he said, pushing his advantage.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? He’s married. He’s a hired killer. He’s a cop. Which of those reasons isn’t good enough to keep you from getting involved with him?”
I shrugged, beaten.
“Which is why you should do the deed with this Zeke fellow.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“From what you and Doomsday said, he saved your lives last night. He’s been supportive tonight, and there’s no denying that you’re attracted to him.”
I closed my eyes. Was I really taking love life advice from a lizard?
“Meat! Meat!” DeeDee bounded up to the car. I’d left my door open and she stared hopefully at the bag.
I pulled out the prime rib with two fingers and threw the entire thing to her. She gobbled it up greedily.
“That was supposed to be your dinner,” Zeke chastised gently.
“She was starving.”
“So am I.” He bent and captured my lips with his.
Allowing my head to loll back against the headrest, I let him work his magic with his mouth.
“Chemistry,” God observed.
Startled by the squeak, Zeke jerked away, banging his head on the car’s ceiling. “What the hell was that?”
I pointed to the lizard on the dash. “Say hello to God.”
Zeke eyed me strangely. “You call your lizard God?”
“His real name is Godzilla, God for short. He’s actually Katie’s pet, not mine.”
“Oh. I understand.”
I doubted he did. “I’m taking the animals home.”
“I’ll follow you.” He let DeeDee into the backseat and closed her door.
“I—”
“Don’t blow this!” God ordered.
“I’d like that,” I said, surprising everyone.
Zeke smiled and closed my door.
I smiled the whole way home. Something was finally going right.
Until we got to the parking lot of my apartment complex.
“You can’t let him inside!” God suddenly blurted out.
“Well I’m not going to ‘do the deed’ in a car like some horny teenager.”
“But the Garcia plans, the waitress outfit, everything is in the apartment,” God warned.
He had a point.
“Well, what am I supposed to tell him?” I glanced in my rearview mirror. Sure enough, Zeke was still following me.
“You changed your mind?”
“You do know that if I get caught tomorrow, this could be my last chance to have sex with a man for a very long time, don’t you?”
“There are always prison guards . . .” God suggested.
“I bet none of them look like Zeke.”
“Speaking of the Garcia thing, did you ever find out why Zeke was there? At the rehearsal dinner for Garcia’s daughter?”
The warm sense of euphoria that had enveloped me since our last kiss started to fade away. “No,” I admitted grudgingly.
“And you don’t find it odd that he was there of all places? At the same time as you?”
“I find it odd that you told me to
do the deed
with him and now you’re trying to convince me not to.”
“Oxygen deprivation.”
I rolled my eyes, put the car into park, and prepared to turn down what could have been the best night of my life.
“Zeke,” I said, as he walked toward me.
“Delivered you home, safe and sound,” he said with a smile.
It really wasn’t fair how handsome he was. It made me want to throw caution to the wind. “I—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pecked me on the cheek, spun around, walked away, and got back into his car.
Shocked, I watched him go.
As he pulled away I muttered, “At least he said good-bye this time.”
I put out my hand and God scampered up my arm to perch on my shoulder.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
I shrugged. “It’s probably for the best.”
Grabbing DeeDee’s leash, I let her lead the way to the apartment.
She stopped a couple of yards away, almost tripping me.
“Bad! Bad!” she growled.
“What’s bad?” I asked, trying to nudge her forward.
“Bad.”
I shoved her with my knee, moving forward enough to see what it was she thought was bad.
She wasn’t wrong. It was very bad.
G
ASPING,
I
STUMBLED
backward, suddenly glad that all I’d eaten all night was a baby carrot.
“What is it?” God asked, scrambling around to my other shoulder, hoping to get a glimpse of what had frightened us.
“Back to the car.” Turning, I hurried away.
I didn’t have to tug on the leash, DeeDee sprinted past me.
“What is it?” God asked, fear threading through his tone.
“Rats!” I exclaimed.
“Now what’s wrong?” he asked as I opened the rear door of my car.
DeeDee leapt in. I closed it behind her.
“No,” I told the lizard. “It’s rats. Dead rats.”
“Uggghhh.” For a creature who considered himself to be a sterling conversationalist, you’d have thought he’d come up with something better than a groan of disgust.
“Don’t you dare hurl on my shoulder.” Unlocking the trunk of my car, I started rummaging through it.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m finding this.” I turned on a flashlight. “I’ve got trash bags and I can use the bags I use for Doomsday’s poop as gloves . . .”
“DeeDee,” he corrected distractedly. “Use them for what?”
“I’ve got to get rid of the rats. Someone covered the front door with them.”
“You’re going to . . . touch them?”
I felt his tiny body quiver. An answering shiver ran through me. My stomach roiled traitorously. “What else am I supposed to do? Leave them there?”
“I don’t know. Call someone?”
“Who? The police? All I need is for them to start wondering what the hell is going on with me.”
“Your door is covered with rats,” he said with horrified awe. “Who would do that?”
“I dunno. Neighborhood kids?”
“Kids egg doors. They don’t hang dead rats.”
I closed the trunk. “Maybe Abilene?”
“Maybe Mr. ’Roid Rage?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Someone with a grudge. Someone who hates you. Someone who’s trying to warn you off.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly. “You’re making me feel much better.”
“This is scary. How can you not be afraid?”
I swallowed hard. I was doing my best not to freak out. “I am scared,” I said slowly. “But if my run-ins with Cifelli and Gary the Gun taught me anything, it’s that nothing is ever solved by giving in to fear.”
“You could hide. Hiding’s good.”
“Do you want to wait in the car while I clean up the mess?”
When he didn’t answer, I opened the front passenger door to let him inside.
“I didn’t say yes,” he protested.
“I know, but—”
“I’m not going to send you to deal with those things alone.”
“They’re dead. They can’t hurt me.”
“Bad,” DeeDee opined from the backseat.
“We’ll all go,” God decided.
DeeDee whined softly. “Bad.”
“You can stay here,” I assured her.
“Go DeeDee.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Go DeeDee.”
The three of us went to remove the four dead rats. They’d been hung by their tails with duct tape, in a diamond pattern. DeeDee held the flashlight in her mouth, God sat between her ears telling her how to direct the beam, and I yanked each stiff, smelly body from the door. Bile rose in my throat with each rip I made. By the time I was done, I was barely together enough to carry the bag to the Dumpster and heave it in.
My hand shook terribly as I unlocked my door. I was terrified by what horrible scene might await me inside, but nothing looked disturbed. The dog and lizard searched the place for intruders as I waited in the doorway.
“Clear!” God shouted as they searched each room. “Clear! Clear!”
“You’ve been watching too many police procedurals,” I muttered, but I was grateful that they were checking the place out.
Satisfied that it was just the three of us, I hurried to the gun Patrick had left for me, and loaded it with shaking hands. Ushering the animals into my bedroom, I shoved my dresser in front of the window, wedged my night table against the door, dragged my pillows and comforter off the bed, and settled into a corner of the floor.
“Are you okay?” God’s concern was evident.
“You said hiding is good. I’m hiding.”
“Good hiding.” DeeDee lay down beside me, resting her head on my lap.
I stroked the spot between her ears and finally relaxed. We all drifted off to sleep.
Until the phone rang.
I jumped so high that I bounced her head off my lap. Her chin hit the floor with a solid thunk.
“Sorry.” I scrambled for my phone and stared at the unfamiliar number.
“Maybe whoever left the rats wants to know if you’re home,” God whispered worriedly. “Who else would call after midnight?”
I pushed the answer button, but didn’t say anything. I held my breath and listened to someone breathing.
“Mags?”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you calling at this hour? You scared the hell out of me!” I shouted at Patrick.
I got silence as a reply.
“Patrick? Patrick, are you there?” I whispered, afraid he’d hung up.
“What’s happened?” His concern acted as a balm for my frazzled nerves.
I told him about Paul’s creepy traffic stop, Katie’s improvement and scare, my altercation with Abilene, all the crap with Alice, and the rats. I left out the part about Zeke.
At the end, realizing I’d babbled for a good fifteen minutes straight, I said, “But that’s probably not why you called.”
“I called to see how you were doing and to wish you good luck tomorrow.” He sounded tired.
“How’s the road trip going? Snacks and tunes working out?”
“You were right on both counts. It’s been quite the experience. Really good bonding time.”
“I’m glad. When will you head home?”
“She insisted on making more sightseeing stops than we’d planned, so not until Tuesday or Wednesday. I’d hoped to be back in time to help you, but . . .” He trailed off, his tone heavy with regret.
I swallowed hard, realizing the true reason for his call. “You wanted to say good-bye?”
“You could call off the job,” he pleaded. “Just tell Delveccio you couldn’t do it. He’ll believe you. It won’t be held against you.”
“I can’t.”
“What if I take care of Abilene?” he offered desperately.
“After the fight I had with her at the hospital I’d be the prime suspect. It wouldn’t work.”
“But—”
“You promised you’d find homes for God and DeeDee,” I reminded him, my vocal cords stretched to their limit as I tried not to cry.
He didn’t reply.
“Patrick?”
“I promised.” His voice was husky with emotion. “But if you’re careful tomorrow, really careful, I won’t have to. Promise me, Mags. Promise me you won’t get caught.”
“I’ll try.” The promise was weak and we both knew I didn’t believe in it.
“I wish . . .” he began.
“Good-bye, Patrick.” I disconnected the call, grabbed DeeDee, and sobbed into her neck, thinking about all the wishes I had that were probably never going to come true.
D
ESPITE THE FACT
I had two weddings to attend that day, the next morning I got up and went to visit Katie.
Walking through the familiar hallways of the hospital, I fervently hoped that it wasn’t going to be the last time I’d see my niece. When my cell phone rang I almost didn’t answer it, but, worried that it might be Alice with a last-minute bridezilla request, I looked at the display and recognized the number of the prison.
For a split second I considered ignoring the call from my father, but I realized he was probably calling to convey good wishes to Alice on her big day. I didn’t want to be responsible for not passing on his words of wit and wisdom.
“I’m at the hospital,” I said as a way of greeting.
“Miss Lee?” a strange male voice asked.
I stopped walking. “Who is this?”
“I’m calling from the prison.”
“Why?”
“Your father’s been in a fight. He’s in the infirmary.”
A strange, unpleasant feeling niggled at the pit of my stomach. A memory scratched at the edge of my consciousness. “How badly is he hurt?”
“He’ll live. This time.” The last two words were delivered as an ominous warning.
I leaned against the wall for support, the tile cool against my palm. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?”
“When you come to visit, tell the rat bastard to give up the jewels.” The caller’s voice had a sinister silkiness to it now. It made the hairs on the back of my neck dance. “For his own good and that of his family. Otherwise, who knows what might happen.”
The call ended, but I still held the phone to my ear, trying to make sense of the threat.
Before I could regain my emotional equilibrium, I saw her.
A woman dressed a lot like me, in jeans and a T-shirt, walked toward me. Something about her gait or carriage was so familiar that I looked twice at her despite the fact I was reeling from the phone call.
I searched her face, trying to figure out where I knew her from. My heart stopped when I locked onto her brown-eyed gaze. Recognition dawned on her familiar, yet different features. Time had changed her, life had hardened her. But I knew her.
“Marlene?” The two syllables were more barely more than a whisper.
Instead of answering me, my sister spun around and took off at a dead run away from me.
For a moment, I stood, stunned. This wasn’t how I’d imagined our reunion. I’d dreamed of us falling into each other’s arms. I’d had nightmares about her screaming at me that Darlene’s death was all my fault, but I’d never imagined her running away from me. Again.
“Marlene! Wait!” I chased after her. “Come back!”
She might have gotten the jump on me, but I wasn’t about to lose her again. I ran faster, my heart exploding, my lungs wheezing. I closed the distance between us. Reaching out, I could almost touch her. A few inches more.
Hearing my approach, she looked back over her shoulder at me, her expression fear and something I couldn’t identify.
“Marlene, please!” I gasped.
She passed a patient’s room and as she did, a bed was pushed into the hallway, straight into my path.
“Move!” I screamed, but the bed didn’t budge.
Marlene kept running, putting more and more distance between us.
“Marlene!” I wailed, but she didn’t stop.
I lost her. Again.
T
HE
B
&
B
WAS
eerily quiet when I got there a few hours later.
“Hello?” I called as I walked in the front door, wondering what fresh hell the silence preceded. “Where is everyone?”
“Loretta and Alice are getting their hair done.” Zeke rounded the corner carrying an embroidered pillow.
Startled, I grabbed my chest.
“Sorry,” he said, eyeing me thoughtfully. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Bob picked up Susan. Leslie left separately. I don’t know where they were going.”
“When should they be back?”
“Alice and Loretta left fifteen minutes ago. You could probably run over to the shop and get yours done too.”
Self-consciously I smoothed my hair. It had been a rough night and a rougher morning. “I look that bad?”
A strange smile played at his lips. “You really don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“Why do you think Alice picked that ugly dress for you?”
“Hormones?” I suggested weakly.
“And why do you think she didn’t tell you about the hair and makeup appointment?”
“Because I’m the worst maid of honor ever?” I pointed at the pillow he held. “Proof. Aunt Loretta entrusted you with her ring bearer pillow.”
“Actually . . .” He stepped closer, holding it out. “She asked me to give it to you for safekeeping.”
Taking it, I stared down at the familiar hearts stitched into it.
Reaching out, Zeke smoothed my hair off my face, in a movement so intimate, my breath caught.
“You have no idea, Maggie,” he murmured seductively. “No idea how remarkable you are. Alice does. She doesn’t want the competition on her big day.”
I threw back my head and laughed. “You are crazier than my mom.”
He reared back as though I’d slapped him. “You don’t believe me?”
“Is that really so shocking, Zeke? That I wouldn’t fall for that line of bull?”
He frowned. “It’s the truth.”
“Sure.”
“I told you the truth and you didn’t believe me.”
The look of shock on his face made me start laughing all over again.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked suspiciously.
I almost blurted out that I’d seen Marlene. I almost revealed that someone had called and threatened me. I almost told him about the rats. But I didn’t. “I’m excited about the day.”
“Unlike me,” he scoffed, “
you
are a lousy liar, Maggie Lee.”
I hoped he was wrong. The success of the day depended on it.
I
DID PRETTY
well with the whole lying thing through helping Alice get dressed, posing for pictures, and getting to the place on time. Sure my smile might have wavered slightly and my knees might have gone a little weak when I first saw Zeke looking devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo, but I’d done my best to act like he was just another member of the bridal party, not a guy I wanted to do the deed with.
Things were going smoothly until I answered the knock at the door of the bridal suite and found myself facing Alice’s mom.
“Can I see her?” Ellen asked. She’d gotten dressed up for the occasion in a light blue dress and looked ten times better than she had when I’d extended the invitation to attend. She was definitely trying.
“I . . .” I hesitated, having already gotten instructions from the bride that I was not to allow her mother to see her before the ceremony. “Let me go check.”
I felt a twinge of guilt at Ellen’s crestfallen expression as I closed the door in her face.
I went over to Alice. “It’s your mom. She wants to see you.”
“I told you—”
“You wouldn’t have invited her if you hadn’t wanted to see her,” I said hurriedly, calling her bluff.
“What would you do?” she asked Zeke. “If your mom wanted to see you, what would you do?”
He frowned, considering the question.
In that moment, I finally got the connection they shared. I’d never fully understood what had drawn them together when we were in high school, but now I did. They’d both been rejected by their mothers. I suddenly felt ashamed for having been jealous of their bond, knowing it had been forged in pain.