by JB Lynn
The Hitwoman Plays Games
Book 24
JB Lynn
Copyright © Jennifer Baum THE HITWOMAN PLAYS GAMES
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The Hitwoman Plays Games is intended for 18+ older and for mature audiences only.
© 2020 Jennifer Baum
Cover designer: Hot Damn Designs
Editor: Parisa Zolfaghari
Proofreader: Proof Before You Publish
Formatting: Leiha Mann
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
1 Flew Over the Raven’s Nest
Author’s Note
Also by JB Lynn
About JB Lynn
Prologue
You just know it's going to be a bad day when you're facing a full house.
I've stared down contract killers, deranged murderers, and a host of other scary people, but facing my family can absolutely terrify me.
Maybe it was because as soon as I’d stepped out of my bedroom, my sister Marlene whispered, “The trio of witches are in the kitchen.”
I considered going right back to bed and hiding under the covers.
Marlene looked tense. Trying to blink my sleepiness away, I squinted, thinking her eyes were red-rimmed, like she’d been crying. “What did they do to you?” I asked, ready to defend her.
She shook her head. “They did nothing.”
I frowned. “So what’s wrong? Is it Doc?”
So help me, if her paramedic/male dancer boyfriend had hurt her in any way, he’d have to answer to me.
She let out a hiccupping sob. “Doc’s been wonderful.”
I rubbed her shoulders. She was obviously suffering and I didn’t know how to help. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head and dashed away errant tears. “Not yet. Soon, though, I hope.”
“Anytime,” I pledged. I assumed she was still upset about the abrupt way her twin, Darlene, had left the family not long ago. She had to miss her terribly. Maybe Marlene blamed me for our sister leaving…I know I worried it was my fault.
Marlene gave me a quick tight hug. “I’ve got to go. I have an appointment.”
“Want me to take you?” I offered, feeling like it was the least I could do.
A strange expression flickered over her features. It looked like a mixture of fear and excitement, the kind people have when they’re waiting in a line to board a rollercoaster. “Doc’s taking me.” She began to stroll away.
“We’ll talk soon?” I called after her, feeling worried.
She gave me a thumbs up and kept walking.
Maybe it was because she left me unsettled. Maybe it was just because I hadn't had my coffee yet. Maybe it was simply because I had to cross a gauntlet of family members in order to get to the coffee pot. Whatever the reason, I had a sinking feeling in my gut when I entered the kitchen.
“Is that you, Margaret?” Aunt Loretta blinked at me, her false eyelashes dancing like rabid spiders, obviously obscuring her vision.
“Who else would she be?” her older sister, Susan, asked testily. She gave me a sharp, accusatory look. I wasn't sure if she was frustrated with her sister or me.
“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today,” Aunt Leslie mused without looking up from the pad of paper she was doodling on.
I wasn't surprised that she'd taken Loretta’s side in the argument. What is it about twins that makes them both joined-at-the-hip when they’re not ready to kill each other? I mean, I guess you could say that applies to most siblings, but it seems to be more intense in twins.
Thankfully, there was someone in the room who took pity on me.
“Would you like a cup of coffee, Maggie?” Templeton, Aunt Loretta’s fiancé, asked, reaching for the pot as he spoke.
“Please,” I murmured thankfully.
“We have a problem,” Aunt Susan announced.
I closed my eyes, wishing that I could just drip the caffeine into me via an I.V. rather than wait for Templeton to hand me the cup. I really wasn't in any shape to take on one of Aunt Susan's problems at the moment. I’d had a long night, trying to mediate an argument between the lizard, God, and the one-eyed cat, Piss. I loved them both, but they were driving me crazy.
God had been of the opinion that anything he said or did when he had been under the influence of an evil spirit, namely my grandmother, was not his fault. Piss, on the other hand, believed that he owed apologies.
Personally, I didn't think it would hurt the reptile to say he was sorry. He’d said some hateful things and hurt a lot of feelings, including mine.
But I had tried hard not to take sides, because unlike the others, I knew that God had been willing to make the absolute sacrifice. He'd offered to die to protect my niece, Katie, and I was loath to, at this point in time, say anything against him.
“Before you start complaining about whatever it is that has your panties in a twist, Susan,” Loretta interrupted, “I need to talk about my problem.”
Templeton handed me the cup of coffee and rolled his eyes, indicating that he knew what this “problem” was. It was something ridiculous, I guessed, if I read his expression correctly.
“They have made a complaint against The Corset,” Loretta’s voice cracked with outrage.
“Who's they?” Leslie asked, sketching something that looked suspiciously like pot leaves.
“What's the complaint?” Susan asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
I didn't know who they would be, but I was pretty sure that the fact that Loretta had chosen to hire exotic dancers to perform outside of The Corset, her lingerie shop, would probably be what the complaint was about.
“It's the—” Loretta began.
“Hungry!” DeeDee, my Doberman pinscher, barked loudly as she ran into the room and skidded to a halt. “Hungry!” she complained again.
“Just once,” God, the lizard, who was tucked into his hiding spot in my bra, muttered, “it would be nice if the furry slobbering beast had something useful to add to a conve
rsation.”
The humans in the room stared at me as my chest squeaked.
“Your obsession with that lizard is unnatural,” Susan huffed.
I shrugged. She didn't understand my relationship with God. Could anyone?
“She's probably hungry,” Templeton surmised, moving toward the cabinet where the dog food was stored.
“Hungry!” DeeDee agreed.
“As you were saying, Loretta,” Susan prompted, trying to bring the conversation back on track.
“It's the—” Loretta began again.
“Is there food?” Matilda, the newest addition to my menagerie, a pig, oinked as she waddled into the kitchen.
“Another one with a one-track mind,” God muttered from his hiding place.
Exasperated, Susan glared at me. “Look what you have done to my home.” She stood up and pointed first to the dog and then at the pig. “This is a home, not a zoo. I can't believe you've done this to me.”
“It's my home,” Herschel, my grandfather, my aunts’ dad, reminded everyone as he walked into the kitchen.
As Templeton fed the dog and tossed a few stray pieces of kibble to the pig, Herschel poured himself a cup of coffee. “Or have you all forgotten that?”
“Of course not, Daddy,” Loretta and Leslie said in unison.
Susan grit her teeth so hard that I could see the muscles in her cheeks jumping from the effort of restraining herself.
“All are welcome here,” Herschel said. “You're just going to have to adjust, Susan.”
I wondered, in that moment, if that applied to my friend, RV. She had left in the middle of the night, thinking that she wasn't welcome here. Or, at least, that's what I guessed she thought. She left without telling anyone, without leaving a word. Even Darlene had left a note.
My friend Armani had been very upset by RV’s sudden departure. I had been, too, more than I would have expected. I guess that's what happens when people bond over an exorcism. When you think you have a connection and then someone severs it without an explanation, it's unsettling.
Taking his coffee, with the pig trailing behind him, Herschel left the room.
Susan glared at me. Silently accusing that this was all my fault.
Not sure how to respond, I just looked down at my coffee cup. I wasn't certain whether it was really the animals she was upset about, or the fact that I had told her husband, Lawrence Griswald, that I would be joining him in his private detective work.
Ever since I told Griswald yes, Susan had been giving me the cold shoulder.
“It's the chiropractor’s office,” Loretta blurted out. “They’re saying that my beautiful men, my gorgeous, sexy, enticing men, are causing problems.”
I risked a glance in Templeton's direction. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, staring at his fiancé.
I felt a surge of sympathy for him. Being with Loretta, who's the most man-hungry woman I've ever met, had to be a challenge. He’d been a loyal member of the family and deserved better treatment than to listen to her verbally fawning over other men.
“The chiropractors may have a point,” Susan said.
“They said,” Loretta replied, in her most indignant tone, “that the men were...” She trailed off and paused dramatically.
Leslie leaned forward, eager to hear what her twin was going to reveal. Susan, still gritting her teeth, put her hands on her hips and frowned.
“They say the men are dangerous.” She patted the area over her heart like a damsel about to faint.
“That's not what they said,” Templeton interjected in a dry tone.
All eyes swiveled over to him.
“What they said was that the antics of your men were posing a danger. They said there have been three fender benders in their parking lot since they began performing.”
I took a large gulp of coffee. In general, Templeton doesn't react to most of the insanity of his fiancée and the rest of the family, but it was obvious from his tone that he was not happy with the current situation.
“It's an art form,” Lorretta snapped back.
I almost choked on my coffee. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the male form as much as the next person, but I’m not sure that the gyrating of her scantily clad dancers could really be classified as “art”.
Without another word, Templeton stomped out of the room.
“Perhaps you should reconsider,” Susan began to suggest.
Loretta held her hand to silence her older sister. “Sales are up twenty-three percent.”
She said it like money was the only thing that she was going to take into consideration. Her personal pocketbook was going to overrule the wants or wishes of anyone else.
“All praise the mighty dollar,” God muttered.
1
Recognizing the expressions on Loretta’s and Susan’s faces, and knowing they meant that there was about to be a huge blowout argument, I murmured, “I've got to go check on Katie,” and made a quick escape, indicating with a wave of my finger that DeeDee should go with me.
I could have really used a top off of my coffee, but it wasn't worth it.
The dog fell into step beside me. “Katie?” she panted happily.
“Yes. I've got to get her ready to meet the new tutor.”
The family had come to the decision, considering how much Katie had been through, with the loss of her parents and the bed & breakfast where we'd all been living blowing up and my sister Darlene’s sudden exit from her life, that it didn't make sense to send Katie to school at this time. The family had also determined, wisely I believe, that none of us were qualified to homeschool a child. We’d decided to hire a tutor, someone eminently more qualified than any of us, to come in to teach her for four hours a day.
Armani, bless her, had taken on the task of converting the tack room off the barn into a mini schoolhouse. She’d hired workers to make her vision a reality and, in just a week, had created something pretty special.
I walked over to the barn and greeted the donkey, Irma. “Good morning.”
“Katie brought me an apple,” the barnyard animal brayed. “Did you bring me anything?”
“Not this time,” I replied apologetically. “The kitchen is a landmine.”
Piss, the one-eyed cat, having been lounging in a dark corner of the barn, asked, “What's the emergency now?”
“Nothing to do with us,” I assured the cat as she walked up and rubbed against my shin. “It's a Loretta problem.”
“Well, then that explains things,” Piss replied. “If there's a problem with her, there's a problem with Templeton. He hasn't been as eager to give me my cream,” she pouted.
“I can get it for you,” I offered.
“It's not the same,” she complained. “He pours it better.”
I refrained from asking if pouring cream was similar to the skill needed to properly pour a Guinness. Did it change color? Did lapping cream have a head?
The cat stalked back to her corner petulantly.
Sighing heavily, I continued on to the one-room schoolhouse.
“Have you ever noticed that everyone is obsessed with food?” God climbed up my bra strap to settle on my shoulder.
“Sustenance is a necessary part of life,” I replied.
“DeeDee is always hungry. Irma wants an apple. Piss and her need for cream,” he said with great disdain.
“Good thing you can survive without your crickets,” I muttered, opening the door to the schoolroom.
Armani had paid for the walls to be covered and painted. Internet had been installed, and she'd furnished it with a couple of desks for kids and one for the teacher.
I didn't really understand whom she thought was going to sit at the other children’s desks, but she assured me that they would be necessary.
Armani is a psychic and I've learned that there's no point in arguing with her about these kinds of things. Even if her predictions aren't a hundred percent accurate, there's always a kernel of truth in them. U
sually a very helpful kernel.
“Aunt Maggie!” Katie called, jumping out of her seat and running toward me.
I scooped her up in a giant hug and kissed her cheek. “How’s my favorite niece?”
“I'm going to learn a lot today,” Katie replied. “That's what Aunt Marlene says.”
I looked over at my sister, who sat behind the teacher’s desk. “I thought you had an appointment.”
“Doc’s getting ready.” She grinned at our niece. “We have one very eager student here.”
I nodded and glanced at the clock that Armani had installed. Noticing it was analog, I wondered if kids could even read time on one of those.
“Almost time for your teacher to arrive,” I said, putting Katie back down on the ground.
“Why don't you finish your welcome sign, honey?” Marlene suggested.
Nodding, Katie hurried back to her desk, sat down, and began to draw.
Marlene gave a quick tilt of her head, indicating that we should talk outside.
“We’ll be back,” she promised Katie as we walked out of the room
We strolled out of the barn and stood in the sun.
“Is something wrong with the school?” I asked worriedly. I'd left the hiring of the tutor up to Aunt Susan, which was due partially to my feeling incompetent at understanding what it takes to educate a child. It was also partially because she likes to run everything and I’d chosen the path of least resistance.
“No,” Marlene said. “Everything is good. I just wanted to let you know…” She paused uncertainly.
My gut clenched, wondering what it was she was going to reveal after our conversation earlier.
