The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 8) (13 page)

Thinking it was probably safer to have him call me, rather than follow me, I rattled off the numbers.

“You don’t want to put them in your phone or write them down or something?”

“No need. I remember what’s important.” He released my fingers. “I’ll call soon. Once I figure out where the lighting would be best for our date,” he teased.

I grinned.

Chuckling, he gave me a mock salute and ambled away.

Watching him go, I couldn’t help but notice the second and third looks he garnered from every woman he passed.

I sighed. Jack Stern was definitely a cause for concern.

Continuing on, I was stopped on my way into Katie’s room by Vinnie.

There’d been a time when I’d been intimidated by the testosterone-fueled bully, but now I just found his interference annoying.  I looked up at him and said in my most bored voice, “Something I can do for you?”

“Boss won’t like it when he finds out you’ve been talking to cops and reporters.”

He was probably right, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was concerned about it. “I talk to cops. I talk to reporters. I talk to mobsters. I’m an equal opportunity talker.”

“Someday that smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble,” Vinnie growled, the vein in the center of forehead pulsing.

“No doubt,” I agreed easily. “But until then, I’d like to see my niece if you don’t mind.” I stared at him pointedly until he moved out of my path. “Hey, baby girl,” I called out breezily as I strode into the room like I didn’t have a care in the world.

“Hi.” She already had company and barely acknowledged my arrival as she was focused on an intense game of GO FISH with the man perched on the edge of her bed.

I stopped in my tracks as I looked at the two of them studying their cards. I considered letting him know that she cheats, but I kept my mouth shut since I didn’t know what game he was playing.

“Do you have any fives?” he asked.

“Go fish!” she chortled with delight.

“She’s kicking my butt, Maggie.” He turned to look at me, flashing a good-natured grin.

“She does that.” I stared at Doc, Marlene’s stripper/paramedic-in-training.

“Do you have any queens?” Katie demanded.

He handed one over. “Marlene ran into an old friend, so I said I’d keep Miss Katie here company.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“I’m a nice guy.” A defensive note threaded through his tone as though I’d somehow inferred he wasn’t.

“Do you have any twos?” Katie asked.

Hanging his head, he surrendered another card. She clapped her delight.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“Your aunt doesn’t like me.”

“Which one?”

“Do you have any fours?” the little girl interrupted.

“Go fish,” he told her, before looking at me. “You know, you could have said, ‘That’s silly, of course they like you.’  But no, you asked which one.”

“My bad. Of course they like you,” I delivered deadpan.

He chuckled. “Much better.”

“Your turn, Doc,” Katie ordered.

“Do you have any nines?”

“Go fish.”

“But seriously,” I asked, “Which one doesn’t like you?”

“Leslie.”

“Ignore her,” I suggested. “She’s going through some stuff and is grouchy with everyone. Besides, it’s not like Marlene listens to any of them… or anyone else for that matter.”

“Are you talking about me?” Marlene asked suspiciously, coming in the room behind me.

“We were talking about Leslie and how difficult she’s been lately,” I soothed, not liking the tension I saw on her face.

She didn’t appear appeased.

“Your niece is kicking my butt,” Doc told Marlene with an easy smile that seemed to make her relax.

“That’s because she cheats,” Marlene told him mildly.

I swiveled my gaze from her to Katie to see how my niece would react.

“You cheat?” Doc asked, aghast.

She shrugged, grinning impishly. “Daddy taught me how.”

I put one more mark on my mental scorecard of reasons I didn’t like her father, Dirk the Jerk, but I didn’t say anything because you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead. Though I personally have no problem thinking ill of him.

Doc shook his head and threw his cards down in mock disgust.  “The things kids learn from their parents.”

One of the things I learned from my dad is the ability to lie to someone’s face. Though maybe not very well. Considering that the con man ended up in jail numerous times, maybe it wasn’t his strongest skill set, either.

I was painfully aware of this as I struggled to keep my expression blank when, trying to sneak out of the basement unnoticed hours lately, I was spotted by US Marshal  Griswald.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“Geez!” I gasped, holding my chest. “You scared the heck out of me. I didn’t know anyone was back here.”

I shot a meaningful look at DeeDee who’d been sent ahead into the backyard to scout out our escape route.

“Susan kicked me out of the kitchen,” Griswald said, eyeing the lizard on my shoulder and the cat in my arms.

“No one’s allowed in the there when she’s putting together the sundae fixings.”

“Ice cream?” DeeDee barked hopefully.

“None for you,” I told her sternly.

She hung her head as though she knew failed lookouts don’t deserve baked goods.

Griswald watched the exchange with amusement. “Where are you sneaking off to?”

We were on our way to Patrick’s house to implement what God was calling Operation Poisoned Apple, but I couldn’t tell that to a US Marshal. “They could all use some air, and I certainly didn’t want to disturb Aunt Susan’s creation. As you’ve witnessed firsthand, she’s a little high-strung about it. I didn’t want her to accuse me of ruining her masterpiece with dog hair or cat hair or lizard skin, so I thought it safest for all concerned if I disappeared for a bit.” I brought out my best fake smile to drive home the excuse.

Griswald eyed me skeptically.

“Too many words,” Piss hissed.

“The simplest lie is the most believable,” God agreed.

Griswald looked sharply at the squeaking reptile who balanced on my collarbone like it was his own personal surfboard. “You’ll be back in time for dessert?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I assured him, nodding like a deranged bobble-head. “Could you tell Susan that Armani and her new boyfriend will be joining us?”

“Excellent. She was so upset that Marlene and her young man and Loretta and Templeton had refused her invitation. The extra faces at the table will make her very pleased, very pleased indeed.”

“Great. Well I’d better go so I can get back.”

“Of course.” He stepped out of my way. “Enjoy your fresh air, gang.”

“It’s Operation Poisoned Apple,” God called as I hurried to my car.

“More like Operation Dumb Idea,” Piss grumbled as I gently placed her on the front passenger seat, taking care not to crush her injured paws.

I was inclined to agree with the cat, but since I didn’t have any better ideas about how to find who’d poisoned the redhead, I was grudgingly giving this a shot.

“Patrick help,” DeeDee reminded us all as I opened the back door so she could hop inside.

“I should have gotten some spy equipment,” God said as I climbed behind the steering wheel.

“Get on with your bad self, James Bond,” Piss mocked.

“Nobody likes a catty cat,” the lizard retorted.

“Guys…” I sighed tiredly. “It’s already been a long day.”

The lizard ran down my arm and up onto the top of the steering wheel. “Not as bad as the day I had listening to her moan.”

Fighting the urge to flick him off, I asked, “You don’t really expect me to drive with you standing there, do you?’

He made a daring leap toward the dashboard, but barely made it and had to scramble to pull himself up when he almost slid off.

The cat, who’d watched the move through her one good eye, hissed, “Nice, genius.”

“Okay you?” DeeDee asked with concern.

“Fine,” the lizard assured her. “Just fine.”

Thankfully, everyone stayed silent for the rest of the ride to Patrick’s neighborhood, where every house was a neat, but old, Cape Cod and a flag of some sort fluttered from every doorway.

“Very Stepford-ish,” God murmured from his vantage point on the dash.

“If I lived here, I’d be tempted to live a double-life too,” Piss said.

“Why?” DeeDee asked, trying to get a better look.

“Anything this ordered on the outside must be seething with imperfection behind closed doors,” the lizard explained.

“Huh?” She craned her head outside the window trying to see what God saw.

“Head inside,” I ordered the dog as we slowly coasted past the house that was our target.

Two cars in the driveway indicated our entry wouldn’t be easy.

A couple emerged from one of the cars. I recognized the woman as Mrs. Mulligan’s lover.

“Awesome,” I muttered. This was a complication we hadn’t considered.

I didn’t know who the man was, but considering the casual way he tossed her the keys without warning, and how she caught them effortlessly, it was clear they knew each other well.

The lizard rubbed his front feet together with glee. “The plot thickens.”

“I’m not sure about this.” I watched the couple enter the house, unsure whether they were there to plot murder or become victims themselves. Whatever was happening, I didn’t want the lizard to get caught up in the crossfire. “I’m calling it off.”

“Balderdash! Fortune favors the bold!” God declared.

“Save me from inspirational quotes,” Piss muttered.

I parked the car around the corner.  “You’re sure about this?”

The lizard gave me a thumbless, thumbs-up. “It’s our best plan.”

“It’s our only plan,” I reminded him.

“Either we do this or we go home,” Piss groused. “I’m due another dose of pain meds in an hour.”

“Your call,” I said to the lizard.

“Let’s roll!”

“Roll!” DeeDee barked in agreement.

Against my better judgment, I let the cat out of the car and carefully put the lizard on top of her.

He grabbed her scruff, kicked her like he was trying to spur a racehorse, and yelled, “Charge!”

It was anticlimactic since she slowly limped off toward Patrick’s house

DeeDee and I waited for her return in silence.

“Hungry,” the dog complained after not too long.

Reaching into the glove compartment, I pulled out a plastic bag filled with dog treats that I kept stored there for emergencies. A dog whining that she’s starving to death is definitely an emergency in my book.

I threw one of the treats to her.  She crashed into the back of my seat as she turned herself around to retrieve it.

“Don’t rip the seat cover,” I warned.

“Won’t I.”

A moment later, I heard chomping, so I knew she’d gotten her snack.

“More?” she whined pitifully.

I twisted in my seat to hand it to her, so I wouldn’t be subjected to her searching for a thrown morsel. When I turned back around, I saw them.

Patrick and his son walked slowly up the other side of the street, deep in conversation. The young man appeared agitated. Patrick looked tired, weak even.

A painful lump rose in my throat.

“Patrick!” DeeDee barked excitedly.

“Quiet!” I whisper-roared, sinking down in my seat until my forehead was level with the top of steering wheel.

Patrick gave no indication whether he noticed me, or recognized my car.

I held my breath as they passed, hoping he wouldn’t ask me later what I’d been doing there. It wasn’t like I could explain the lizard was conducting Operation Poisoned Apple.

Almost thirty minutes later, Piss limped back to the car. “You owe me big time, sugar.”

“What happened?” I lifted her back into the car.

“I didn’t kill the pompous idiot.”

“Well that’s good,” I replied cautiously, starting the car.

“I didn’t even maim him.”

“Good,” DeeDee encouraged.

“Did he make it inside the house?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Home how get he will?” DeeDee asked worriedly.

The cat and I exchanged a worried look. We hadn’t worked that out.

“So much for the genius plan,” Piss muttered, but I was fairly certain I detected a note of concern in her voice. “Even if he solves this great mystery, he has no way of telling anyone.”

I rested my head on the steering wheel and exhaled slowly, trying to control the panic welling up inside me. How did we not have an exit plan for him?

“Uh-oh,” DeeDee whined.

“We’ll come back later to extract him,” I decided.

“Now you’re starting to sound like him.” Piss glared at me from her one good eye. “And have you thought about how you’ll signal him you’re even there?’

“DeeDee can bark.”

“Great. The cat flicked her tail. “No way a dog barking in the middle of the night will attract attention.”

“I’m open to other suggestions,” I told her, as I put the car into gear and began driving back to the B&B.

I’d promised to be there for ice cream sundaes.

Armani and her new man hadn’t arrived yet when I showed up in the dining room having put the cat and dog back in the basement.

The only ones in the dining room were Leslie and Susan, and if their body language was any indication, they weren’t enjoying each other’s company.

“Where’s Griswald?” I asked.

“You do know the man has a first name, don’t you?” Susan snapped.

“What is it?”

“It starts with an ‘L,’” Leslie prompted.

In no mood to play games, I gave her a dirty look.

“Lawrence,” Susan supplied. “His name is Lawrence.”

“Nice name,” I said pleasantly.

“I had a dealer named Larry,” Leslie interjected.

“Save your stories for your N.A. meetings,” Susan said. “No one here wants to hear them.”

Insulted, Leslie left the room muttering, “Larry. His name is Larry.”

Susan and I stood there in the awkward silence for a long moment. She gave me a look, challenging me to leave too.

Instead, I sat on the nearest chair. “How’d the ice cream turn out?”