by JB Lynn
“Fine,” the woman raged. She picked up a unicorn-covered backpack that was at her feet and threw it at the man. “Take her.” Without saying goodbye to her daughter, she stalked away.
The man picked up the bag and held out his hand toward the child. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “We're going to go see Grandma.”
Now that her mother was gone, the child swallowed her tears. “Do you think she can put the head back on?”
The man smiled. “Your grandma can fix almost anything.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Rumor has it, she made your favorite chocolate chip cookies.”
A small smile cracked the child's face.
The man stood back up and faced Patrick. “Thank you for your help, sir.” He extended his hand.
Patrick shook it. “Divorce is hard. Child custody is harder.”
When they were gone, Patrick stepped closer to me. “Still think you want to work here?”
I studied the redhead. I knew that both of his ex-wives had retained custody of their respective children. I wondered if that had taken a toll on Patrick. It was funny how little I really knew about him. “You handled that well.”
He shrugged. “Comes with the job.”
“Griswald drove me here,” I told him, figuring he could talk to him now.
He nodded. “Go home, Mags,” he ordered. “I'll come out to see both of you this evening.”
Understanding that he was doing the best he could in the moment, I nodded. “We’ll see you then.”
I quickly made my way out of hell.
8
Griswald was not happy to hear that Detective Patrick Mulligan was apparently running some sort of undercover operation at the game center.
“That complicates things,” he muttered, pulling out of the parking lot. “A lot.”
I stayed silent.
“Did Susan ask you to talk to Loretta?” he asked finally.
“Yes.”
“Have you done it?”
“Not yet,” I admitted.
“Want to do it now?”
“Not particularly.”
I knew he was ignoring my response when he made a right turn. Home was to the left. The Corset was to the right.
“Do you really think anybody can talk Loretta out of this?” I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat.
“Nope.”
“Then why are we going there?”
Griswald glanced over at me. “Pure selfishness on my part. If Susan finds out I didn’t do everything in my power to get you to try to convince Loretta to give up her dancers, she’ll be upset with me.”
I could see his point, and I respected that he owned up to the fact that his actions were in his own self-interest. “What should I say to her?”
Griswald shrugged. “I have no idea, but you’re a resourceful girl…excuse me, woman…I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
We drove the rest of the way to the lingerie shop in silence. I stared out the window, trying to come up with an argument that Loretta might go for.
When we reached the parking lot of the shop, we spotted them. Two men in cheetah-print loincloths shaking their money-makers outside the storefront. I understood the chiropractor’s complaint and Aunt Susan’s dismay.
“Somehow that looks even worse than I imagined,” I muttered.
Griswald sighed and pulled into a spot at the far end of the lot. I wondered if he was unwilling to park closer because he was afraid they’d hump his car. “Just do your best, Maggie.”
“My best is not going to be good enough,” I told him as I climbed out of the car.
He nodded sympathetically. “Probably not, but you’ve got to try.”
Head down, I slowly crossed the lot. “You’ve got to see this,” I murmured.
God, who’d been exceedingly well-behaved and quiet during my time in the game center, scrambled up my bra strap and peeked out. “Oh my.”
It’s not often that the little guy is struck speechless, but the pair of dancers doing their third-rate Magic Mike impressions on a stage of asphalt seemed to steal his words. Realizing he’d have nothing to contribute, he dove back into his hiding spot without another word.
As I approached the building, the men focused on me, directing their hip thrusts in my direction. Trying to maintain an expression of disinterest, when what I was really feeling was revulsion, I tried to wave them off. “Not here for the show. Just need to talk to my Aunt Loretta.”
One of the men looked disappointed but took the hint and redirected the display of his wares in the general direction of the parking lot.
The other guy appeared to take my disinterest as a challenge and shimmied closer to me, wagging his tongue in a way that I guessed was supposed to be suggestive, but just made him look crazy.
I’ve killed people. Multiple people. Bad people. Always for a good reason. Usually in self-defense. But this guy I wanted to murder for no other reason than I took a visceral dislike to him.
“Back off,” I commanded loudly and sternly.
The other guy sidled even farther away. He was obviously the smarter of the two.
The dimwit coming at me drew closer.
Eyes. Nose. Throat. Groin. Those were the places Patrick had taught me to go for when I’d first gotten into the assassination business.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” I warned the dancer.
He slithered closer, inserting himself in my path to The Corset’s entrance. “Don’t you want to touch me?” he purred.
Eyes. Nose. Throat. Groin. I wanted to punch him in all of them. “No,” I lied, thinking about how satisfying it would feel to cause him pain. “Get out of the way.”
He stopped moving and we stared at each other for a long moment. I curled my hands into fists, prepared to attack.
“Is that you, Margaret?” a voice trilled from inside the store. “Why are you standing out there? Come in. Come in.”
Stepping aside, the dancer bowed deeply, making an elaborate arm wave, ushering me inside.
I strode past him, uncurling my fists.
Loretta pulled me in for a tight hug and I found myself gasping for breath, overwhelmed by the potency of her perfume.
“Noxious fumes,” God complained from his spot in my bra.
“I’ve just gotten in the perfect outfit for you,” Loretta confided. “It’s a purple latex bodysuit.”
“No.”
“But you’d look like a Bond girl in it,” she coaxed.
“No means no, Aunt Loretta.”
She pouted at my refusal. I glared at her, letting her know I wasn’t going to back down.
Realizing she’d lost, she changed the subject. “Aren’t the dancers marvelous?”
“No,” I said, blinking away tears as her fragrance of choice wreaked havoc on my sinuses.
She let go of me suddenly and looked at me in surprise. “No?”
Most people cover their chest when they cross their arms, but Loretta was in the habit of crossing them under her breasts, lifting them skyward. Considering she had a penchant for low-cut tops, this made the fabric strain to contain her.
“No,” I repeated, looking away and surveying the rest of the store. “There’s someone waiting to check out,” I told her, nodding my head in the direction of the cash register.
“Hmmmph!” she exclaimed, stalking on her stilettos to go take care of business.
While she took care of the customer, I wandered aimlessly around the store. The Corset has a wide selection of lingerie and sex toys, something to satisfy just about every appetite. As such, the shop attracts a wide range of customers. At the moment, there was a trio of giggling young women obviously shopping for a bridal party, a businessman pawing through lacy underthings, and a drag queen eyeing the feather boas.
Loretta’s customer, a forty-something woman sporting a fresh tattoo of a rising phoenix, the surrounding skin still irritated, walked out with a shopping bag bulging with merchandise.
“Newly divorced,”
Loretta confided.
“Guessed that,” I muttered.
“Now tell me why you’re looking like Susan,” Loretta prodded.
I took that to mean I had a disapproving look on my face. I glanced out at the gyrating dancers. “They’re awful.”
Loretta cocked her head to the side and observed them for a long moment. “They are.”
Thinking she’d finally seen the folly of her plan, I let out a sigh of relief, happy that one thing was going my way today.
“But they’re the best I can afford,” Loretta continued. “Until I can get better dancers.”
“No,” I said sharply enough that everyone in the shop glanced over at me. “You have to get rid of them.”
Loretta blinked, her false eyelashes flapping like bat wings. “Why?”
“It’s…it’s unbecoming,” I told her.
“You really are turning into Susan. If you can’t say anything nice, get out of my store.” She turned her back on me, pasted on a smile, and strutted over to the businessman. “Can I help you find something, handsome?”
With a groan, I spun around and stared at the opposite wall with its display of handcuffs, trying to come up with a different approach to the problem. I should’ve known better than to think things were going my way. When did anything ever go my way?
As I was feeling sorry for myself, the drag queen sidled over to me. He didn’t say a word, just offered me a gold business card. I took it and he walked away.
I glanced down at the piece of cardstock. “Soulful and Sinful,” I read aloud. Flipping it over, I saw there was a phone number on the back.
Feeling Loretta’s glare on me, I looked over at her.
“Get out,” she mouthed.
Shrugging, I did as she requested. I’d failed this time, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try again.
9
By the time Griswald and I got home, Katie had finished her school lesson. She was in the barn, feeding Irma an apple. I had to give the kid credit; she was better at remembering to feed the animals than I was.
“How was school?” I asked, coming up behind her.
“Aunt Maggie!”
Tossing the rest of the apple to the donkey, she charged at me full speed. I scooped her up and swung her around in multiple circles until we were both dizzy. That didn't stop her from giggling or me from smiling.
“How was school, baby girl?” I ruffled her hair.
“Great!” she said. “It's the most fun I've ever had.”
“Wow. Really?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I really like Miss Lassalan.”
“I'm glad.” Spinning around so that Katie could hop on my back, I gave Irma a pat and said, “Thank you for taking care of my girl.”
“Always my pleasure,” the donkey brayed back.
I headed back toward the house with Katie on my back, but before we got very far, a voice called out, “Hey, toots!”
Katie pointed to a nearby fence. Mike perched there watching us, his head tilted to the side.
“Can I get a piece of bread for Mike?” she asked excitedly.
I bent down so that she could hop off. “Get him a piece of cheese,” I said. “Bread can make birds sick.”
“I'll be right back with food, Mike,” she yelled, waving at him.
She ran inside.
I walked over to the bird. “Everything okay?”
“I have no complaints.” He fixed his gaze on me. “What about you?”
“Have you seen Templeton doing anything weird?” I asked, remembering the conversation I'd eavesdropped on.
“He's been joining Leslie to worship the sun,” Mike said. “He never used to do that.”
I took sun worship to mean Aunt Leslie's penchant for performing sun salutations at sunrise. “Has she been clothed?” She's been known to perform yoga in the nude outside.
“Yep.”
“And Templeton joins her?” He didn't seem the type to do yoga. It made me wonder what he was up to. That's how paranoid I am, if somebody takes up a healthy habit, I immediately think there's a sinister motive behind it.
“Every morning,” Mike confirmed. “Tell the girl I'll be back. I want to go get something for her.” He flapped his wings and flew away, leaving me standing staring at the fence. I hesitated, not knowing what to do. I knew that Katie would return soon, but honestly, I knew I looked weird standing there staring at a fence post.
“Margaret!” Aunt Susan's voice was sharp. I turned around guiltily, not that I'd been molesting the fence or anything, but from the tone of her voice, you would have thought I had been.
“I understand you went to speak to Loretta,” she said, marching toward me, hands balled into fists and eyes hard. “How did it go?”
All of the sudden, I hated that the fence was at my back, because that meant I couldn't just make a run for it. Aunt Susan's fury made me want to run and hide. “She's going to be difficult to get through to.”
Susan crossed her arms over her chest and let out a sigh as loud as a horse. “I don't understand why she's being so difficult about this.”
I honestly didn't think that Aunt Loretta was being any more difficult about this than she was about all of her other crazy things, but apparently Susan had decided that this was the insurmountable item.
“Let me think about it a little more,” I offered. “I'll have another go at her.”
“Before or after someone gets killed in a fender bender?” she snapped.
“By definition, people don't really get hurt in fender benders,” I told her quietly. “The majority impact is absorbed by the fenders.” I knew that from my years of work at Insuring the Future.
She stared at me for a long moment and I thought, just for a brief second, that she was going to slap me across the face the way she had my sister Darlene one time. Not that Darlene hadn't deserved it, but still, it was a scary idea. Here I am, a semi-trained assassin, with notches in my belt, and I was terrified of my aunt.
Thankfully, Katie came running out, a piece of cheese in one hand and half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the other. “Where did he go?” she pouted, looking around for Mike.
“I'm sure he'll be right back, sweetie,” I told her with a reassuring smile.
“Who will be right back?” Susan asked. Katie and I exchanged a look.
Susan shook her head. “I think I don't even want to know.” Still shaking her head, she went back into the house.
Katie held out the half a sandwich to me. “Uncle Larry says you need to keep your strength up.”
I took it from her, even though it now had finger indentations smashing it. I wasn't sure how I felt about U.S. Marshal Lawrence Griswald being called Uncle Larry. Then again, I wasn't sure what he thought about it. I'd never heard him refer to himself as Larry, which made me think that maybe someone else had given him the nickname and my impressionable niece had picked it up.
“He also said to tell you, Brian’s coming back,” she said, still searching for the bird.
“Coming back?”
“Uh huh. He was here before.”
I hoped that the crow would keep his word and return soon. I didn't want her to be disappointed. I also didn't really want to see Brian Griswald. He's a good guy, a decent guy, but he's also a cop. By definition, that makes me nervous around him. Plus, he's not had the best experiences with my family. Aunt Leslie once gave him some dessert laced with marijuana.
I wondered if it was Brian's idea to come over or if his uncle had summoned him. Things were already getting overly complicated with this whole private investigation business. I really hoped that Brian wasn't going to be involved in it, too.
“There he is!” Katie jumped up and down with excitement as Mike flew up and landed at her feet. He dropped a silver ring on the ground. Katie snatched it up. “Ooh, pretty!”
I squinted at it, determining that it was, indeed, the pull tab from a can of soda. Least I hoped it was from soda and not beer.
Kat
ie didn't care that it was trash. She accepted the gift in the spirit it was offered, put her pinky through it to wear it like a ring, and admired the shine. “Thank you, Mike.”
In her bedroom, Katie had a shoebox full of “treasures” Mike had brought her. Lots of shiny things, string, yarn, popped balloons. If the bird could pick it up, he basically brought it as a gift for the little girl. I'm sure that it would make an ornithologist’s day to study their relationship.
I watched as Katie tore the cheese into small pieces and chatted with our feathered friend while she fed it to him. He, for his part, ate the cheese, but also responded to her on occasion, with a caw. Unlike me, Katie can't understand animals, but she did understand that he was listening to her. I figured that in a household full of adults, that she might sometimes feel like the only ones that listened to her were the animals.
Thinking of them made me wonder where my cat and dog were. “Have you seen DeeDee and Piss?” I asked Katie, interrupting her conversation with the crow.
“Uncle Larry is cooking for them, too.”
“Cooking for them?”
“He was making DeeDee a hamburger,” Katie said. “He asked me if I wanted one, but I said no.”
I looked at the half-eaten half of a PB and J that Griswald had sent out to me and tried not to feel disappointed. I would have preferred a burger.
“All the furry beasts get fed,” God muttered as he climbed up on my bra and perched on my shoulder.
“I don't have any fur, buddy,” Mike said, ruffling his feathers in indignation.
“Okay,” God agreed. “Everybody except me gets fed.”
Hearing his little squeaking voice, Katie let out a squeal of delight. “Godzilla!” She held up her arms wide as though she somehow expected him to leap into them.
I plucked him off my shoulder and waited until she offered an outstretched palm to place him in. She held him at eye-level and they stared at one another.
I know they share a special bond but I've never been quite able to figure out what it is. When Katie was in a coma, after her parents had been killed in the car crash, it was God who had gotten through to her. My heart swelled at the sight of them sharing this special moment.
