The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 8) (17 page)

BOOK: The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 8)
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“I’m sure it is,” I murmured to appease her.

“Look at them, strutting their stuff,” Mom giggled.

I looked out.

And almost fell over.

Because there were peacocks wandering the grounds.

At least half a dozen with their bright plumage on display.

She hugged me tighter. “Isn’t it beautiful, Maggie?”

Realizing she knew who I was and had wanted to share the beautiful moment with me was overwhelming.  Blinking away tears, I choked out, “Yes, Mom. It really is beautiful.”

 

~#~

 

I’d really hoped I wouldn’t run into the mobster when I visited Katie, but he was sitting at her bedside, reading her a book, when I walked into the room.

She sleepily reached out to me when I strolled over to her bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Mr. D. is reading me a story.”

“I can see that.” I smiled gratefully in the mob boss’s direction.

He acknowledged it with a nod.

“Can you finish reading it?” Katie requested.

Wordlessly, Delveccio handed me the open book, got up, and left the room.

By the time I finished reading, Katie was fast asleep.

I tucked her in, touched her cheek, and followed in Delveccio’s footsteps.

I expected him to be in the cafeteria, but he was waiting right there in the hall.

“Thanks for reading to her.”

He nodded. “Least I could do.”

I looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one could overhear me before I whispered. “I delivered it.”

“Thank you.”

“It made her very happy.”

He studied me for a long moment. I thought he was going to ask me what I knew, but all he said was, “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” I began, then trailed off as his eyes narrowed.

We stood there in the hallway, facing off like a couple of duelists, waiting to see who would make the first deadly move.

It ended up being me.

“Why didn’t you take it yourself?”

He rocked back on his heels a little as though the question was a surprise jab. “Can’t. If anyone knew… competition... allies… anyone… that Dominic’s mother is in the loony bin, it would be perceived as weakness. Not just of her, but of me too. You can’t tell anyone.”

“I wouldn’t,” I assured him. “It’s not the same for me, but I understand the pain of loving someone with a mental illness.”

“I know. It’s one of the things I liked about you when I first had you checked out by our mutual friend.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” I promised.

“I owe you one.”

“Maybe
you
can help
me
with something?”

He raised an eyebrow. “That was quick.”

“I need advice regarding our mutual friend. I know who tried to kill him, but I can’t tell him
how
I know.”

Delveccio spun his pinkie ring watching how the light glinted off the stone. “Tell him I figured it out. He wouldn’t dare ask me how I know.”

It was so simple that it just might work.

“I’ll tell him tonight,” I pledged. “Thank you.”

“It’s good business,” he replied. “I look out for my people. Just like you.” He clapped my shoulder and then returned to his grandson’s room.

I hurried out to my car, knowing that the next person I had to look out for was Patrick. I had to warn him about Molly’s husband, but I had no way of getting in touch with him.

Deciding that my best option would be to bring DeeDee to his house and let her bark her head off in the hopes of luring him outside, I rushed home.

As I pulled to a stop in the driveway, Marlene waved and came up to me.

“How was your date?” I asked, getting out of the car.

“Scary,” she confided.

I froze. Had Doc threatened or hurt her? He hadn’t seemed the type, but I’d been wrong about people before. “What happened?”

“It was so perfect. He was so nice,” Marlene complained on a wail.

I waited for the bad news, but none came.

“He was funny and charming and considerate.” She paced back and forth, wringing her hands. “He made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.”

I was starting to feel like our mother made more sense than my sister did. “I still don’t understand what was scary.”

“He is.”

“He is?”

“He’s everything I’m not.”

“Like what?” I prompted carefully.

“He’s a good person.”

“You
are
a good person,” I assured her.

She shook her head. “If you knew some of the things I’ve done…”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” I soothed, thinking of some of the things I’ve done. After all I’ve killed people and I still like to think of myself as a good person.  “Besides, I thought you told him about your past.”

“I did, and he says he doesn’t care.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I’m afraid I’ll blow it.”  She looked at me hopefully, expecting I’d know exactly what to say to make her feel better.

I offered her a weak smile. I couldn’t figure out how to get my own crazy life under control. How was I supposed to dispense wise advice?

I tried to think of what Teresa might have said in a similar situation. She’d been so much better at this nurturing stuff than me. Then again, she’d been dumb enough to fall for and marry Dirk the Jerk, so maybe her advice wouldn’t have been any better than mine.

I said the only thing that came to mind. “You’ll never know if you’re going to mess it up unless you try. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life thinking he was the one who got away because you were too chicken to at least give it a try?”

She stared at me for a long moment.

I waited for her to tell me that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard.

Suddenly, she flew at me, grabbing me in a crushing hug that threatened to splinter some of my ribs. “I love you, Maggie,” she whispered.

Tears pricked the back of my eyelids as my heart swelled. I hugged her back. “I love you too, monster.”

We both laughed as I used the long-forgotten nickname. A lifetime before I’d affectionately called Marlene, monster, and her twin, Darlene, demon.

“Did something happen?” Aunt Susan asked worriedly, coming up behind us.

Marlene pulled away, assuring her, “I was just getting some advice from my big sis.” Flashing a grateful smile at me, she went into the Bed and Breakfast.

Aunt Susan considered me thoughtfully. “Cora told me she saw you earlier.”

“Who’s Cora?”

“She said Mary thought you were Teresa.”

“Oh,” I nodded, realizing Cora must be Mom’s attendant.

“And that you didn’t correct her.”

I tensed, preparing myself for a lecture about how I shouldn’t indulge Mom’s delusions.

“That was kind of you,” Susan said, surprising me.

“I visited later in the day and she knew who I was,” I blurted out.

Susan smiled gently. “That’s wonderful, dear.”

“We saw peacocks on the grounds,” I told her in case Mom repeated the story and Susan thought it was another of her fantasies. “Is that a new thing there?”

“They escaped from the zoo. I heard a story about it on the radio. Armani was here.”

I winced, remembering my argument with her. “We had a fight.”

“About that young man of hers?”

I nodded.

Susan pursed her lips. “I thought he was nice enough, but Lawrence didn’t like him at all.”

“I’m with Griswald on that one. Did Armani say what she wanted?”

“To talk to you.”

I pulled out my phone and checked the call log. “She didn’t call me.”

“She wanted me to give you a message.” Susan frowned slightly.

I waited.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Susan said.

“Tell me anyway,” I urged.

“Wild God.”

Susan was right. It made no sense, but it was seven letters, which meant it could be a message from the magical Scrabble bag.

“I’ll call her,” I promised Susan. “So things with you and Griswald…?”

“They’re progressing slowly.” She stared at me, a challenge to ask more.

“Good. I like him.”

“I thought you liked Bob,” she countered.

“I do.” I laughed. “I can like two men, can’t I?”

“Maybe you can,” Susan said with a tired sigh. “But it’s too much for me.”

Impulsively, I closed the distance between us and placed a kiss on her cheek. “You’ll figure it out.”

Susan clasped me to her in a quick, brief hug and then pushed me away, saying, “Time for me to make dinner. You’ll join us?”

“I’d love to.” I practically skipped into the B&B and down the stairs to the basement. “Greetings creatures great and small.”

“That’s me,” God boomed from his terrarium that was still locked up in the bathroom. “Great!”

“Small,” Piss countered from beneath the sofa.

I considered it a good sign that she was at least talking. “How are you feeling?”

“Miserable,” Piss griped. “When do I get my next dose of the good stuff?”

“I’m much better, Mags,” a human voice replied.

I let out a shriek as I whirled around to find Patrick leaning against the wall, watching me.

“Breathe,” he reminded me, a trace of amusement in his voice.

I glared at DeeDee, who sat attentively at his side, staring up at him adoringly.

“You have
got
to stop doing that,”  I told Patrick as I collapsed on the couch.

He moved to sit beside me.

“And you,” I said to DeeDee who licked my hand. “You are a terrible watchdog.”

Cocking her head to the side, she raised her ears and whined softly, “Sorry?”

“Don’t be so hard on her,” Patrick said, settling on the cushion next to me. “It really isn’t her fault.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to—”

Remembering the important information I had to share I interrupted, “Molly’s husband.”

“What?”

“Molly’s husband is the one trying to poison you. I don’t know if he was the one who was tinkering under your car, it was too dark to see, but I know for sure he tried to poison you.”

Patrick tilted his head to the side and considered me through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

“Operation Poisoned Apple!” God crowed from the bathroom.

“Helped I,” the dog panted, wanting her share of the credit.

“I figured it out,” God continued. “Further proof that I’m g-r-r-r-reat! Great with a capital G.”

I wondered if this was what Armani’s “Wild God” warning was about.

Patrick glanced in the direction of the hidden squeaking lizard. “What’s with him?”

“He’s a narcissist,” Piss hissed.

“How do you know?” Patrick asked again.

“Delveccio told me.” I held my breath, waiting to see if he’d believe the lie.

He considered the information carefully. I couldn’t tell from his expression if he was taking the revelation seriously. If he didn’t, he could end up dead.

“What are you thinking?” I asked worriedly.

“It makes a weird kind of sense,” he said slowly. “He’s obsessed with his wife and wouldn’t want to lose her. If he found out about their affair…” He trailed off, mentally putting puzzle pieces together. “He’d want to break them up. What better way than to send Molly’s lover to prison. He’d be there to console her.” He nodded, approving of his own reasoning. “Or maybe he thinks she’s sleeping with me. That would be a decent motive.”

“So what are you going to do about it?’

He gave me a hard look, like that should have been obvious.

“He’s going to kill him!” God shouted from the other room in case I was too thick to figure it out myself.

DeeDee dropped to the ground and covered her ears with her paws, not wanting to hear the conversation.

Patrick looked at the dog. “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay,” I assured him, nudging her with my foot.

She lifted her head and gave us a toothy grin that was only slightly frightening.

Patrick leaned into me. “Are
we
okay?”

My breath caught in my throat. How should I answer that loaded question? I decided to go with honesty. “I don’t know.”

He slipped an arm around my shoulders. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Maybe you’re not the one to fix it,” I murmured.

“You’ve been upset since you saw my wife with Molly.”

“No,” I corrected sharply.

“No?”

“I’ve been upset since you told me you knew she doesn’t really need her wheelchair. I’ve been upset since you made it clear you chose her over me.” My heartbeat was pounding so hard by the end of the reveal that I suspected he could hear it.

He remained silent.

That’s what people do when they’re confronted with uncomfortable truths about themselves. When their lies are exposed. When they’re revealed to be the jerks they truly are.

“I’m sorry you’re upset,” he said carefully.

I shrugged out from beneath the arm on my shoulders and twisted in my seat so I could face him. “You’re sorry I’m upset? What about the fact that you misled me?”

My voice was so cold and hard that he flinched.

I took a measure of satisfaction in knowing I could hurt him too.

“You don’t understand, Mags.” He hung his head.

“What’s there to understand, Patrick? Explain it to me.” I hated the near-hysterical note that made my voice squeak.

“I was trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I mocked. “How noble of you.”

Unable to maintain eye contact with me, he put his head in his hands. “You’re a good person. I didn’t want to ruin you.”

“You taught me how to kill people,” I reminded him, the self-hatred I felt for the person I’d become made my words sharp. Tears stung my eyes.

“I was trying to help,” he muttered.

I knew that at least that part was true. “I know,” I admitted grudgingly. “But you don’t get to decide my life for me.”

He raised his head and looked at me, eyes anguished. “I didn’t mean to fall for you. My life was complicated enough and then…” He shook his head.

“So I’m a complication?”

“No.”

“You just said—”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he interrupted.  Shifting his position, he framed my face with his hands, his fingertips lightly resting against my skin.

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