Maggie Lee (Book 10): The Hitwoman's Act of Contrition (10 page)

“Watch it, buster,” Aunt Loretta teased, raising her head and sitting back in her chair.

“Have you decided about the retreat?” Leslie asked.

“A spa retreat?” Loretta asked hopefully.

“A spiritual retreat,” Leslie informed her.

Loretta made a face like she’d just bitten into a sour pickle.

“Her spirit needs rejuvenating,” Leslie continued. “Yoga. Chanting. Downtime.”

“She needs to relax and be pampered,” Loretta countered. “Massage. Facial. Pedicure.”

I tensed as the twins prepared to battle over what was best for me.

“I think it sounds lovely,” Susan murmured, stepping in to play mediator. “What do you think, Maggie?”

I thought it sounded like the perfect opportunity to off the disgusting pedophile Wayne Krout, which probably wouldn’t do anything to soothe my spirit, but I didn’t utter that aloud. Instead I said, “I want to do it.”

“Excellent!” Leslie crowed. “I already signed you up. They’re expecting you tomorrow evening.”

“Wonderful!” I did my best to sound enthused about the upcoming touchy-feeling, new-agey, ancient rituals weekend, but Aunt Susan still looked skeptical.

Before I could get roped into anything else, I said, “It’s been a long day. I’m going to go to bed.”

“Do you want something to eat?” Susan offered. “I could make up a tray for you.”

“I ate at the hospital,” I told her gently. “What I really need is some sleep.”

But that wasn’t what I got…

I knew something was off the moment I stepped onto the basement stairs when DeeDee didn’t charge me, panting, “Gotta! Gotta!”

“DeeDee?” I called softly as I crept down the stairs, not liking how quiet it was or the way the shadows seemed to be dancing against the walls. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer, but Piss did on a relaxed purr. “She’s having her belly rubbed, Sugar.”

I stopped my descent, processing what that meant.

“Hey, Mags,” Patrick drawled, confirming my suspicion.

I thought about what Delveccio had said about the two of us being on the same page and wondered if he was there to talk me out of the Krout job.

“What’s up?” I tried to sound casual as I marched down the stairs.

“He fed the beast and the hunter, but didn’t feed me,” the lizard griped from his terrarium.

I glanced in his direction and thought about reminding him he’d just recently gorged on crickets, but couldn’t figure out a way to say it that wouldn’t alarm Patrick.

It was then I noticed half a dozen candles flickering, which is why I’d thought the shadows were moving.

Patrick disentangled himself from the dog on his lap and got up from the couch to move toward me. “I brought champagne.”

A funny feeling built in my stomach. “Are we celebrating something?”

He bent and kissed me with aching tenderness, not touching any other part of my body but my lips.

And I realized what it all meant, the champagne, the candles, the kiss. Patrick Mulligan meant to seduce me.

Part of me really wanted that. My body swayed toward him, demanding more contact. Wrapping his arms around me, he held me tenderly, making me feel, in that moment, like I was the most cherished person in the world. My heart squeezed and tears filled my eyes as I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. I closed my eyes, trying to memorize the moment, how I felt, who I was.

Enveloped in his warmth and strength, I felt safe, and that felt good. So good that I, for a long moment, I managed to ignore the other part of me. The part that was saying…

“We’ll never work.”

I surprised us both by saying it aloud. He tensed. I tensed. And the magical moment was ruined.

I expected him to protest, but all he did was press a kiss to the top of my head, sigh heavily, and hold me closer.

I snuggled deeper into his embrace, grateful that even though I was rebuffing his advances, he wasn’t rejecting me.  As always, he was strong and calm. That’s why I loved him.

Despite my better judgment and the litany of legitimate reasons we would never work, I loved him anyway.

I loved the way he stayed so calm, no matter what the situation. I loved the way he knew the worst of me and liked me anyway. I loved the way he took care of my pets. I loved the way he took care of me.

I loved him.

The thought broke my heart and a great, heaving sob was ripped from my chest.

The man I loved didn’t ask what was wrong. He didn’t ask what I needed. He didn’t tell me it would be okay. He just held me close and let me cry into his shirt.

Was it any wonder I’d fallen in love with him?

“Okay, Maggie, you are?” DeeDee panted softly, worried.

“She’s in love, Sugar,” Piss meowed.

“Save us,” God hissed from his terrarium.

When I was done sobbing, Patrick joked gently, “So does this mean I shouldn’t open the champagne?”

“It’s so complicated.” I sniffled.

He took a half step away from me so he could look down into my face. “Most things worth having aren’t easy.”

Before I could respond, there was a frantic knock on the basement door. “Maggie? “Maggie, I need to talk to you,” Marlene yelled.

“Keep your pants on,” I shouted back. Then I looked up at Patrick ruefully and whispered, “So complicated.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He pressed a quick kiss to my lips, grabbed the bottle of champagne, and hurried out the back exit of the basement.

I quickly blew out all the candles, flipped on a light, plopped myself on the couch in the spot. “Okay, come in.”

Marlene threw open the door, raced down the stairs, and announced, “I need to talk to you.”

“So you said.”  I studied my younger sister carefully, but couldn’t tell if she was upset or angry, but she seemed to be filled with a strange energy. “What’s wrong?”

“Bob came into the pizza place.”

Bob, Aunt Susan’s ex-boyfriend, was
persona non-grata
around the B&B ever since he’d lost the money that was supposed to be used to build Katie and I a separate place to live at the back of the property.

“He said you’ve got an interview with his sister,” Marlene continued. Then she sniffed the air. “What’s burning?”

“I just put out some candles.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you taking a job working for his sister?”

I sighed. I’d thought it was bad when my aunts second-guessed all my decisions, now my little sister was joining the fray. “Maybe.”

Marlene frowned. “Does Aunt Susan know?”

“I’ll talk to her about it
if
, and it’s a big
if
, I decide to take the job. But I think she’ll understand. I’m going to need a more flexible schedule in order to take care of Katie.”

“Oh.” Suddenly deflated, Marlene sank onto the cushion beside me.

“Oh?”

“I thought that you were doing some sort of rebellious thing. Like when you refused to eat anything that didn’t start with a ‘
B
.’”

I shuddered, remembering my
B
diet. I’d subsisted on a combination of bacon, bread, bananas, blueberries, broccoli, and borscht for three weeks when I was thirteen.

“That was a stupid teenager thing,” I said defensively. It also happened to be at a time in my life when I’d felt the need to control
something
,
anything
in my life since my dad was in jail and my mom was in the nuthouse.

In hindsight it occurred to me that Aunt Susan had understood that because she’d allowed me to get away with the crazy diet until I got sick of it. I felt a surge of gratitude for the aunt I’d always thought was so hard on me.

“I’m not doing it to hurt Susan,” I reiterated. “I’m doing it for Katie.”

Marlene nodded her understanding. “I’m thinking of getting a tattoo.”

I blinked, trying to recover from the conversational whiplash. “Huh?”

“A tattoo. Something with Doc’s name.”

I closed my eyes. I liked her boyfriend, Doc. I really did, but I wasn’t sure she should go marking herself as his property.

“It’ll be a grand, romantic gesture.” She sighed dreamily.

I blurted out, “Nothing dooms a relationship like declaring your love with ink.”

My night was filled with unsettling dreams about tattoo needles.  When I woke from one of the nightmares, gasping for breath, Piss had climbed up and kneaded my chest while suggesting that one of the reasons I discouraged Marlene from making her inky declaration of love for Doc was that I hadn’t declared my own for Patrick.

I told her she was imagining things, which made her flex her claws slightly while she pressed on the area above my heart.

I was exhausted when I dragged myself into work at Insuring the Future the next day, which is why I had such difficulty understanding what I was seeing.

Armani sat at her desk, using her good hand to type away at her computer.

“I thought you quit,” I said as way of greeting.

“Good morning to you too, chica.”  She ran assessing gaze over me. “Or maybe not.”

“What are you doing here?” I tried again. “I thought you quit.”

“I did. But I gave two weeks’ notice, so you’ll have to put up with me a little longer.”

I furrowed my brow, confused.

“I did the responsible thing,” she told me breezily.

I shook my head slowly, suspicious of her new leaf. “What did you get out of it?”

“Besides doing the right and honorable thing?” She managed to sound offended, but I could hear the laughter lurking in her voice.

“Yeah,” I replied drily. “
Besides
that.”

She sighed and then shrugged, indicating she’d been caught. “Tara made me.”

“Tara, your new business partner?”

She nodded, her shampoo commercial-worthy hair, shining and bouncing.

“What does she get out of it?”

“She wants things to go smooth with Harry.” Armani jerked her chin in the direction of our boss.

I nodded. That made sense considering Tara and Harry were newlyweds.

“What about you?” Armani asked. “Are you going to give notice?”

I leaned closer and whispered, “I have an interview at lunch.”

My friend beamed her approval. “You might need this, but I’m not sure since you seem to have a lot of angels around you,”

“Angels?” I asked, thinking of the man who’d changed my tire.

Ignoring me, she picked up her oversized purse and began rummaging in it. After a long moment, she triumphantly whipped something out. “Here you go.”

I stared at her offering, a slightly tarnished teaspoon.

She waved it at me, indicating I should take it.

Grabbing the handle, I murmured, “Ummm, thanks?”

“You’re going to need it,” she assured me.

“For what?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know, but I had a very strong vision that I should give it to you.”

I examined the piece of metal. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Armani sounded more than a little surprised.

I didn’t tell her that I’d once used a shark tooth she’d given me to save my life. I did say “Don’t look a gift spoon in the mouth, right?”

She nodded slowly. “Have you figured out what
give for
means yet?”

“I thought it was
forgive
.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

Before we could continue the conversation, Harry emerged from his office, which sent me hustling to my desk as she called after me, “Watch out for maps.”

Ignoring her latest, nonsensical warning, I worked through the morning and then rushed out of the office for my job interview.

The real estate office, located in an old house on Main Street, was easy to find. The parking lot was empty except for two cars. I parked mine and walked inside, not quite sure what I was getting myself into.

I’d barely stepped through the front door when Lani called, “You made it, Maggie.”

I smiled at Bob’s sister.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she urged, waving for me to follow her. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

We climbed the flights of stairs up to the third floor where each of the bedrooms had been converted into two- or three-person offices. All of which were unoccupied, which made me a little nervous. What kind of company had no one working for it?

“How’s your niece?” Lani asked.

“Improving. She’ll be home soon.”

“That’s wonderful.”  Lani pointed out the “kitchen” on the second floor, which consisted of a coffeemaker, a microwave, and a water dispenser. Then she led the way down to the first floor and ushered me into her office.

I glanced around as she rounded her ornate walnut desk. The carpet was plush, the forest green walls were lined with pictures of houses that had been sold, and it smelled faintly of cigar smoke.

“My home away from home.” She sank into an oversized leather office chair that swallowed her petite frame. “What do you think of it?”

“It’s…” I struggled to find something nice to say about the place. “Got a distinctive look.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, assessing. “But it’s not me?”

I shrugged. “That’s not for me to say.”

She chuckled. “A diplomatic answer.” She looked around the space. “You’re right. It’s not me. I just haven’t gotten around to redecorating it.”

“I know someone who does great work,” I said quickly.  Then I snapped my mouth closed. I wasn’t here to drum up business for Armani’s venture; I was here to get myself a job.

“Do you have her card?”

“Not on me, but I can get you one,” I lied smoothly with a smile, not even knowing whether Armani and Tara even had business card.

Lani nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Now let me tell you about the job. As I said, it’s part-time and has got a flexible schedule, but it requires a self-starter with a killer work ethic.”

Thinking of my assassination jobs, I said honestly, “I’ve got a killer’s work ethic.”

“Good. Good.” She looked at a sheaf of papers on her desk. “When can you start?”

“But…” I protested. “You haven’t really told me what the job entails, the hours, the salary.”