Maggie Lee (Book 10): The Hitwoman's Act of Contrition (5 page)

“Are you looking for my approval?’

“Not at all. I was just telling you that I quit.”

“Good for you.” I did my best to sound happy for her.

“What about you? Are you going to quit?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t decided. I thought you might have some advice.”

“Psychic advice?” She shook her head. “But I’ll give you some friendly advice, if that’s okay.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Find something that lets your inner light shine.”

I chuckled. It was an old plea from her. She kept insisting that I kept my best self hidden from the world.  “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Listen to your gut. Ignore all the voices chiming in, telling you what you
should
do. Trust your own judgment and act accordingly.”

“Easier said than done,” I replied sadly.

She grabbed my arm with her good hand. “I mean it, Maggie. You have to listen to yourself. Believe in yourself.
Live
for yourself.”

Part of me knew she was right, but part of me knew that my life was no longer my own. I had to make my decisions based on what would be best for Katie, not me.

I hadn’t realized I was crying until DeeDee sat up and put a paw in my lap. “Crying, Maggie, why?”

“I’m not,” I told her, dashing away the tears with the backs of my hands.

“You’re not what?” Armani asked suspiciously.

Before I had to answer, Marlene strolled in. “How do I look?”

I smiled at the repeat of her morning question. This time she was wearing a T-shirt and jeans like I’d suggested. “You look great.”

Marlene beamed. “Can you give me a ride to work?”

“Sure.” I stood up, glad to leave the conversation with Armani. “I have to run an errand.”

I looked down at my friend who was still seated at the table. “This isn’t good-bye, is it?”

“Where’d you get that idea?”

“Since we won’t be working together anymore…” I explained lamely.

“You are my forever friend,” Armani declared, awkwardly getting to her feet. “You can’t get rid of me.” Throwing her arms out, she pulled me in for a tight hug. “Listen to yourself, Maggie,” she whispered so only I could hear. “You are one amazing woman.”

I nodded, too choked up to speak.

Her advice was good. I just didn’t know how I could ever possibly implement it.

This amazing woman had to deliver a purple teddy bear.

I took DeeDee down to the basement before I left the B&B. Piss was, as usual, lounging on the couch. God, belly distended, was draped over the driftwood in his terrarium, digesting.

“Anybody need anything before I go?” I asked.

“Where go?” the dog panted.

“I have to deliver something to someone at the loo—” I cut myself off, remembering God took offense every time I called my mother’s residence the loony bin. “Where my mom lives.”

“Excellent!” God declared, rousing himself from his post-cricket binge stupor. “It’s time.”

“Time for what?” I asked suspiciously.

“Your act.”

“This again.” The cat sighed, flexing her claws. “Just do it, Sugar. If only because it’ll make him stop talking about it.”

“But I still don’t know what is,” I argued.

“I’ll tell you on the way,” the lizard declared. “Remove the sky dome.”

I took that to mean the lid covering the terrarium, but I made no move to lift it. “I can’t do it.”

“Why not?” He flicked his tail.

“Help can I,” DeeDee offered, rushing up to the glass enclosure.

“No!” the lizard, cat, and human all declared simultaneously.

The dog’s response was to lick the glass.

“Disgusting beast!” the reptile roared.

DeeDee grinned, showing all her teeth.

I’m pretty sure I heard Piss snicker, but when I looked at her, she was studiously licking her paw.

“I can’t do it because it’s Delveccio who asked me to make the delivery.”

“Oh. I’d forgotten about that.” The lizard flicked his tail, momentarily stumped by that particular roadblock in his plan. “I think you can do both.”

I eyed him uncertainly.

“The more time we waste, the less time you’ll have for your appointed tasks,” he told me imperiously.

“Go,” Piss urged.

So I scooped up Godzilla, put him on my shoulder, and headed out to the car. Just in time to see Loretta and Templeton wrestling a framed picture into the back of her car. “Need a hand?” I called.

Like two kids who’d gotten caught with their hands in the cookie jar, my aunt and her fiancé, whirled around. Their guilty expressions would have been comical if I hadn’t realized what painting they were carrying off.

“Isn’t that the
Fox Chase
?” I stepped closer, trying to get a better look at Aunt Susan’s favorite artwork.

They immediately closed ranks in front of it, obscuring my view.

Leaving Templeton to hold up the precariously balanced artwork, half-in the car, Loretta walked to me, a too wide smile stretching the limits of her lip liner.

Something fishy was going on. I felt it in my gut.

“We’re getting it restored,” Loretta told me. “As a surprise.”

“You think she won’t notice a giant painting missing from the parlor?”

Loretta’s smile faltered a tiny bit, but she pushed gamely on. “I told her I’m trying to get on one of those antique appraisal shows. I told her I could drum up business for the shop by mentioning it in my TV spot.”

I frowned. I knew she was lying, but I didn’t know why. I also didn’t know if she was lying just to me or to her sister too.

“Where are you off to?” she asked with forced cheer.

I hesitated, unsure if confronting her about her lie was the best course of action.

“Things to do,” God reminded me.

Loretta focused on the lizard perched on my shoulder. “You are fond of that little thing, aren’t you?”

“Thing?” God thundered, but to Loretta, it sounded like a high-pitched squeak.

She winced at the noise.

“I have some errands to run. If you’re sure you don’t need any help…”

“No, no, dear. You go on.”

I turned toward my car, then spun back toward her. “
Whatever
it is you’re doing, you should probably protect it with something. It would be a shame for it to get scratched.”

Loretta nodded, but averted her eyes. She knew that I knew she was lying.

Getting into the car, I muttered, “What the hell are they up to?”

“You have bigger things to worry about,” the lizard replied, settling onto his silk bed in the cup holder.

“Like what?”

“Among other things, how to avoid having Delveccio’s daughter attack you when you bring her that teddy bear.”

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, remembering my last unpleasant run-in with the patient. “Maybe this time she’ll know I’m on her side.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I’m not her enemy. Hopefully, that will be enough.”

“I hope so,” God muttered. “Otherwise my plans for you may not turn out the way I’d hoped.”

“Ready to tell me what those plans are?” I prompted.

“One thing at a time.”

Before I could push him harder, my phone rang.  A quick glance showed an unfamiliar number. “Please,” I muttered, squeezing the steering wheel, “please don’t let it be Whitehat.”  I took a deep breath and tried not to sound apprehensive as I answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, Maggie. It’s me.”

“Zeke?”

“Indeed.”

I relaxed at the sound of my old friend’s voice. “How are you?”

“Fine. Good?” He didn’t sound too sure of his answer. For a con artist, he wasn’t a very good liar. “More importantly, how are you? What happened with Armani?”

“I’m good. She’s good. Safe and sound at home. Everything’s good.”  Zeke had wanted to help me find Armani, but Ms. Whitehat had insisted he go away to work a mysterious assignment for her.

“Thank God,” Zeke murmured.

“At least someone appreciates my contribution,” the lizard piped up. “I—”

I slapped my hand over the top of the cup to keep whatever else he’d been about to say from spilling out.

Knowing Zeke was unhappy with the timing of whatever job Whitehat had sent him to, I assured him, “Whitehat provided back-up.”

“Did she?” a distinctly bitter note threaded through the usually easy-going voice of Zeke.

Unsure of what to say next, I focused on my driving for a long moment. I took my hand off the cup so the lizard couldn’t accuse me of depriving him of oxygen or something equally ridiculous. “Where are you, Zeke?”

He waited a beat to answer. “I shouldn’t say.”

That sounded ominous. “What are you doing?”

He sighed. “Another job.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“It involves Christmas trees.”

“Christmas trees? Is that code for something?”

“No. Really. Christmas trees,” he delivered in a deadpan tone.

“Do you need help?” I asked.

I could practically hear him shaking his head. “I wasn’t calling because I need help. I called to see how you are. You’re not the only person on the planet who worries about people, you know.”

“Everything worked out. Well, almost everything.”

I filled him in on the death of Armani’s boyfriend and her subsequent decision to embark on her matchmaking career. Then I told him about Loretta’s suspicious behavior.

“Strange,” he confirmed. Zeke had actually lived at the B&B when we were in high school, so he knew my aunts well. “Are you going to ask Susan about it?”

“I can’t believe she won’t notice it missing. I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever’s going on.”

“Wise choice.” He sighed heavily. “Listen, Maggie, I have some bad news.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, bracing myself. “Okay.”

“It doesn’t look like I’m going to be back any time soon. This job…” He trailed off with a mixture of disappointment and frustration.

I felt more than a twinge of guilt. He’d asked for my help to get free of Ms. Whitehat and her organization and I’d failed him. It was my fault he was stuck in a long-term job that involved Christmas trees. “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“Don’t be. I got myself into this mess. I’ll get myself out of it. I’m just sorry it’s going to keep us apart.”

I winced. I like Zeke. He’s handsome, charming, and loyal. If Patrick wasn’t in the picture, the sexual chemistry between us might have led to something more, but as it was, he didn’t make me feel the way the redhead did. He was a pretty sparkler whereas Patrick was a big-ass firecracker.

“But you’re not,” Zeke guessed when my silence went on too long.

“I’ll miss you,” I replied honestly.

“It’s the cop, isn’t it?”

I held my breath, unsure of how to respond.

“I’ve seen the two of you together,” Zeke continued. He didn’t sound upset, just resigned. “I’ve sent you a phone. There’s a number programmed in it. Call me if you need help.”

I thought of all the burner phones Patrick had given me during the time I’ve known him. The con artist and the hitman were more similar than they knew.

“Take care of yourself, Maggie.”

Before I could respond, he hung up.

A cold emptiness filled me. I hadn’t realized how much Zeke had come to mean to me since his return.  Knowing that he was gone again had me blinking away tears.

“You’ll miss him,” God said softly.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“He’ll be back someday.”

“I hope so,” I whispered. “I really hope so.”

I had to push thoughts of Zeke from my mind once I reached the facility where my mother resides. It’s a good idea to keep one’s wits sharp when entering a place where depression, denial, and delusion reign.

With God nestled against my chest, I grabbed the paper bag I’d stowed Delveccio’s teddy bear in and set out on the quest to make the delivery. After getting past security by telling the beefy man I was there to see my mother, I began prowling the hallways in search of my target, Angelina.

I’m pretty sure she saw me before I spotted her. One moment I was scanning the haphazard rows of patients in wheelchairs, nursing staff in scrubs, and strained visitors, and the next my eyes locked onto those of the beautiful, olive-skinned woman staring at me.

Every time I saw her, I was struck by how much she reminded me of a young Sophia Loren.

Her gaze dropped from my face to the bag I clutched by my side. She raised her eyebrows silently asking if the package was for her.

I nodded slightly.

Her lips twitched in the semblance of a smile.

She got up from the rocking chair she’d been sitting in, turned her back on me, and walked away.

I knew she wanted me to follow her and I did so grudgingly. The last time I’d delivered something to the mobster’s daughter, she’d attacked me in a stairwell.

“But she apologized afterward,” I muttered, trying to reassure myself that I had nothing to fear from the loony bin resident.

“Keep talking to yourself and they’ll reserve you a room,” God warned.

A couple of the residents heard his squeaking and looked at me inquiringly, clearly unsure if the sound was real or a product of their imaginations.

Angelina led me down the hallway before slipping into another stairwell.

I tensed, not wanting a repeat of our last meeting.

Fighting the sense of trepidation that settled over me, I squared my shoulders, opened the door, and stepped through.

The dark-eyed beauty leaned back against the wall. “Hello, Margaret. Or do you prefer Maggie?”

“Maggie.” The door swung shut behind me, leaving us cut off from everyone else. “How do you know my name?”

“Your mother talks about you.”

“She does?”

“On her good days,” the other woman admitted. “She’s worried about you.”

I frowned. That was news to me.

Angelina’s eyes strayed to the bag in my hand.

I held it out to her.

Pulling the purple bear from the bag, she held it overhead so she could examine it better. She turned it over, looking for something.

I watched, fascinated, wondering if her searching was a symptom of whatever had landed her here in the first place.