The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub (17 page)

God remained silent.

My hand shook as I tried to unlock the door. I wasn’t sure if I was trembling because of the cold, because of the adrenaline rushing through me, or because I was suddenly a step closer to finding Darlene.

Whatever the reason, everything changed the moment I stepped through that door.

Chapter Twenty

You’d think that creeping around the home of the recently deceased in the dead of night would be eerie, but I was on a mission and marched around the place like I owned it. (Except for those couple of times I walked into walls or tripped over furniture.)

Still, my sense of purpose made my motions confident. With the dog and cat trailing behind, I made my way directly to the linen closet on the second floor.

The cops had probably thoroughly searched most of the house, but I doubted they’d found the false wall in the back of the closet, just over the bottom shelf.

Kneeling down, I quickly transferred a pile of beach towels and toilet paper off the shelf.

DeeDee sniffed every item I removed carefully.

Piss weaved her way under my arm so that she could get a better look at what I was doing.

Even God emerged from his warm hiding place to perch on my shoulder to see what I was up to.

Reaching into the back, I pressed hard against the right hand corner and was rewarded by the wood shifting beneath my hand.

I lowered the false bit of wall onto the shelf, getting ready to reach inside the hidden compartment.

“There could be spiders,” the lizard warned.

“There are no spiders,” I told him as a shiver of revulsion ran down my spine.

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, I’m about to stick my hand in a hole I can’t see, so I’m hoping that there are no spiders. Besides, you eat insects. Why are you scared of spiders?”

“Spiders,” he informed me with haughty disgust, “are not insects. They’re arachnids.”

“No one likes spiders,” Piss added for good measure. “It’s all those legs.”

Shaking my head, I held my breath and stuck my hand in the compartment.

I felt no insects. Or arachnids.

I felt something smooth and hard. I pulled it out.

“It what is?” DeeDee asked.

“It feels like a book. Maybe a journal.”

Suddenly there was a creak and a crash.

I’m pretty sure my heart stopped. I know I stopped breathing.

The creak and crash was followed by a shuffling noise

I grabbed the dog’s collar before she could go investigate the source.

“There’s someone else here,” God whispered.

“No shit,” I whispered back, holding on to the dog’s collar with one hand and reaching back into the compartment
with  the
other. This time I pulled out an envelope.

“I’ll check it out.” Piss moved stealthily in the direction of the noises, which were coming from the first floor.

“Sit,” I whispered to the dog.

She grudgingly lowered her butt to the floor. Even though I couldn’t really see her, I knew she was vibrating with energy.

“Stay,” I ordered. Slowly, taking care not to make any noise, I got to my feet, with the book and envelope in one hand and a roll of toilet paper in the other.

We waited in silence for the cat to return.

After what felt like forever, but was probably mere moments, I felt her brush against my leg.

“It’s a chubby guy in a red suit,” she whispered.

“Claus Santa?” DeeDee panted hopefully.

“There is no Santa Claus, you imbecile,” God ranted.

“Stop squeaking,” I ordered on a whisper.

The noise downstairs stopped.

I wondered if the man in the red suit, who I assumed was the Cupid Killer, had heard us.

Footsteps slowly began to climb the stairs.

He was coming, and there was nowhere for me to hide.

I held my breath as though that would magically make me invisible. I didn’t dare move for fear I’d alert him to our presence.

I clutched the toilet paper tighter. After all, it was the only weapon I had at hand.

“I’ll distract him and y’all make a break for it,” Piss said, stress strengthening her Southern drawl.

Before I could protest, she raced down the hall, disappearing into the darkness.

“Easy now,” God urged DeeDee and me from his post on my shoulder. “Timing will be everything.”

So we waited in the shadows, waiting for Cupid to reach the top of the stairs, waiting for Piss to distract him.

When he got to the top step, a scratching noise could be heard from the end of the hall opposite us.

The man hesitated for a moment, listening.

Finally he went to investigate.

As he moved toward the sound, the dog and I crept toward the stairs.

“Stay between us and the man,” the lizard ordered the dog.

I slowly began to descend the staircase while DeeDee kept guard at the top.

“Drop the toilet paper and use the bannister before you get us both killed,” God demanded.

Instead of dropping it, I carefully placed the roll on the step above me before grabbing the rail as the lizard had suggested.

I was halfway down the flight of stairs when Piss began to hiss, “Here he comes! Here he comes!”

Giving up any effort to make a silent escape, I panicked and began to run.

“Come on, Dimwit!” God bellowed at the dog as I half-ran, half-hopped down the remainder of the stairs.

“I’ll trip him!” Piss yowled.

A crash and a curse told me that she’d succeeded.

I dashed out the door with the dog on my heels.

Limping on my painful ankle, I rushed away, unsure of whether Cupid had seen us.

“Leave me with the canine,” God ordered when we reached the corner.

“Why?”

“Because we need to be sure you’re not being followed. We must be vigilant about guarding the rear flank and I doubt she’s capable of counting to ten, let alone one hundred.”

Moving the lizard from my shoulder to the dog’s back, I implored, “Be careful.”

“Too you,” DeeDee responded.

I lurched away, rounding the corner, leaving them to guard my escape route.

I got home okay, despite my aching ankle. I waited in the backyard for them, shivering against the cold as the adrenaline that had fueled my flight seeped away. I was cold and tired and needed to relax after a stressful day.

The animals joined me soon after.

None of them looked the worst for wear.

“Thank you,” I said when they arrived, bending over to pet the dog and stroke the cat.

I opened the envelope. It was empty. I studied the outside and found “516.375 Finsler Geometry” scrawled on the back. I read it aloud.

“What does that mean?” Piss asked. “Is it code?”

I shook my head. “I think it means I have to go to the library.”

“Well that didn’t answer any of our questions,” God groused.

“No,” I agreed, wondering what I’d find when I followed through on the Dewy Decimal clue. “It didn’t.”

“Let’s just hope whatever is in the book is worth it,” the lizard said.

“I hope it is too,” I agreed. “But first I need to take a long, hot bath.”

Chapter Twenty-one

I stowed Belgard’s book, which ended up being a diary with one of those cheesy locks that only seven year olds believe keep secrets safe, under the couch where Piss could easily protect it. At least that’s what God said.

I changed into a bathrobe, grabbed the bar of vanilla cupcake-scented soap Patrick had given me awhile earlier, and crept upstairs to use the claw-footed tub on the main floor while everyone else slept.

I filled it with water hot enough to make a lobster scream and climbed in, sinking in up to my chin, letting it chase the chill from my bones. As I watched the steam rise, I focused on slowing my breathing. The heat worked its magic on my tense muscles, relaxing them.

My ankle throbbed, a nasty bruise bloomed on my arm where my dad had grabbed me, and I was exhausted.

Feeling like I’d gone ten rounds with the heavyweight champion of the world, I used the soap to scrub away the cares of the day. I hadn’t been overly enthused when Patrick had presented me with the bar, but now, as the sweet aroma filled the air, I thought it was one of the best things I’d ever received.

I felt calmer than I had in days. “Calm tub,” I murmured, remembering Armani’s psychic Scrabble tile prediction. “Calm tub.”

The only problem I had was that the soap was disintegrating at an alarming rate. I held the bar up to examine it and realized that there was something dark and rectangular in the center.

I grinned, realizing Patrick had given me more of a present than I’d realized. No wonder he’d been annoyed I hadn’t used the soap right away.

Curious about the contents, I broke what remained of the bar in half and retrieved a small aluminum box about the size of a matchbox from the middle.

While I wanted to know what it contained, I didn’t think I should risk opening it while bathing.

I laid it carefully on the edge of the tub. I rested the back of my head against the cool porcelain, closed my eyes, and just soaked until the water cooled.

It wasn’t until I was climbing out of the tub that I tensed again. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I stared at my face, wondering if the brother I’d never known contained any of the same features.

I wondered why my parents had given him up.

I wondered who else knew the secret.

Toweling off, I shrugged myself into my robe and cinched it at the waist. Then I picked up the aluminum box, slid a small tab I found on it, and slid it open. A key clattered onto the bathroom counter. Peering into the box I found a small folded piece of paper. Pulling it out, I found it contained an address.

That was it. No note. No instructions. Just the key and an address.

So much for Patrick’s grand romantic gesture.

I repacked the box and slipped it into the pocket of my robe, turbaned my hair in a towel, and headed for the kitchen to find a snack. Breaking and entering made me hungry.

I was eating peanut butter off of a spoon when I realized I wasn’t alone.

Whirling around, I found Angel leaning against the doorway, watching me. For once he wasn’t wearing a Navy shirt. He wasn’t wearing a shirt at all.

Instead of ogling his body, I forced myself to focus on his face, shadowed with stubble and topped with sleep-tousled hair.

I swallowed hard. “Hey.”