The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb: Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 12

by JB Lynn

  He’d certainly done that. Mission accomplished, I thought.

  Before I could protest, he drove a few more nails into the box. “Okay, we’ll attach the wire and we’ll be good to go.”

  He moved away to get the wire. I considered calling after him that there was no “we” but I thought better of it. He was doing me a favor. No need to antagonize him.

  Besides, a small part of me kind of liked the “we” idea. Then I felt more than a little guilty about liking "we", considering that less than an hour before, I'd been jamming my tongue down another man's throat.

  "So the chicken is Armani's fault?" Angel asked, unaware of my internal struggle.

  "It's a long story."

  "I've got nowhere to be." Angel unspooled the roll of chicken wire.

  "I don't want to tell it."

  He shook his head at my reticence, pulled out a pair of wire clippers, and began snipping.

  After a long uncomfortable moment, I asked, "How do you know how to do this kind of stuff?"

  "Do you mean how does a member of an organized crime family know how to perform manual labor?" Bitterness laced his tone.

  "That's not what I meant." I reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him. "I just meant that this," I waved my hand over the project under construction, "isn't a skill the average Jerseyan possesses."

  He glanced at my hand, which still rested against his warm, strong joint. I snatched it back self-consciously.

  "Sorry. I'm just so accustomed to people making assumptions about me based on my family…" Angel took a deliberate breath and exhaled slowly.

  Realizing I’d hit a nerve, I said a little too quickly, "I understand." I tipped my head in the direction of the B&B. "Happens to me all the time too."

  "Mr. Cox."

  I looked at him inquiringly.

  "Mr. Cox. My seventh grade shop teacher."

  "He taught you how to make a chicken coop?"

  Angel chuckled. "He taught me that I could create something other than trouble. Without him…" He trailed off and looked away as though imagining an alternate history. He shook his head as though he didn't like what he saw. "He taught me how to use tools. He let me hang out in his classroom after school. He was a cool guy."

  "Sounds like you were lucky to have him."

  He nodded. "The right teacher can make all the difference in a kid's life. Speaking of which…"

  I found myself holding my breath, wondering what he was going to say next.

  "Susan fired Betty Jo."

  "Katie's occupational therapist?"

  He nodded.

  Anger constricted my chest. "She has no right. It's not her place to--"

  "She's right," he interrupted, before my rant got out of control. "The woman wasn't helping Katie."

  I sighed heavily, knowing he was right. Katie and Betty Jo had never clicked.

  "She's better off without her," Angel assured me.

  "But that means I'll have to find someone else," I said tiredly. I was already feeling overwhelmed by everything I had to do for Katie. Even with the considerable help of all three of my aunts and Angel, her care felt like a full-time job.

  "You will." Angel mimicked my earlier action, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

  While I knew he meant the move to be comforting, I had to fight the urge to lean into him to soak up some strength that I felt I was sorely missing.

  "I know it's a lot, but you're not alone."

  Tears stung the back of my eyes. I looked down at the ground, hoping that he wasn't able to see them.

  "I'm almost done with this," he said gently. "Why don't you go get the bird?"

  Grateful that he'd offered an escape, I nodded and hurried toward my car.

  God squeaked the moment I opened the door. He paced the length of the dashboard, flicking his tail, signaling his indignation.

  "I didn't forget about you. Don't even try to make me feel guilty. I needed to get a place to put the bird." I held out my palm and he scampered up my arm.

  Perching on my shoulder, he continued to squeak his outrage.

  "You do know that I don't understand you," I reminded him as I opened the rear door and gathered the chicken in my arms. She was soft and fluffy. She looked up at me with complete trust. "This is only temporary," I warned her. "I can't give you a permanent home."

  She tucked her head under her wing, which I took to mean that she understood.

  I hurriedly carried her to the backyard. Angel had already put the finishing touches, on the impromptu chicken coop. He held open the door, while I slid the bird inside.

  "It's not much, but it's the best I could do on short notice," Angel apologized.

  I wasn't sure if he was talking to the bird or me. "It's great," I said.

  "She's probably hungry," Angel said. "Do you have any feed?"

  I waved my hand to encompass the yard. "You see any grain silos here?"

  He chuckled. "We’ll find her something."

  "Stay there," I told the bird. "I'll be right back." I hurried into the kitchen, thinking it was the most logical place to find food.

  Unfortunately, the room was already occupied by Aunt Susan and Katie. It was hard to tell which of them was more unhappy. The tension in the room was stifling. I decided my best recourse was to ignore it and play dumb.

  "Hey there, baby girl." I rushed over to Katie and kissed her cheek.

  Instead of being rewarded with a smile, she turned her back on me, sulking.

  Susan shrugged at me helplessly. "We had a rough day."

  Considering that I'd spent time chasing down a chicken, and talking to a shaman, I thought I'd had a rough day too, but I didn't say that. "So… don't freak out, but…" I began.

  Aunt Susan stiffened, a guarded look hardening her eyes. I steeled myself for what her reaction would be.

  "When you go in the backyard, you'll see a chicken."

  "A chicken?"

  Susan, as I'd anticipated, sounded dismayed.

  "A chicken!" Katie headed toward the back door, eager to see it.

  "It's only temporary," I promised Susan. "Just until I find it a new home."

  "Can I pet it?" Katie asked excitedly.

  Susan looked at the little girl, a strange expression coming over her face. I waited for her to give me some sort of indication whether I should allow it. She nodded tightly and then turned away.

  "I think she might be hungry," I told my niece. "I came in to find her something to eat."

  "Take her out," Susan said quietly. "I'll find something."

  I picked Katie up and carried her outside. Angel was still standing by the coop, talking to the bird. He moved aside so that Katie could get a better view.

  "What's her name?" Katie asked.

  "I don't know," I replied.

  "Maybe you should name her, Katie," Angel suggested.

  The chicken clucked twice as if she was trying to communicate her name.

  "Can I pet her?" Katie asked hopefully.

  Before I could even answer, Angel reached into the coop and pulled out the bird, carefully cradling her in his arms. “Pet her gently between her wings." He bent over so that Katie wouldn't have to reach so far.

  Eyes wide, the little girl slowly reached for the bird.

  "She won't hurt you," Angel promised.

  The chicken clucked again as though to reassure the child. I really wished I could understand what the bird was saying.

  Katie gingerly stroked the bird’s feathers. "So soft."

  "So what do you think we should call her?" Angel asked, as Aunt Susan walked up to us, carrying a jar of popcorn kernels.

  Katie regarded the bird thoughtfully, scrunching up her forehead, deep in thought.

  The bird made its funny sound, twice again.

  "DinDin,” Katie declared.

  Startled, Angel stared at her.

  "We're not going to eat her," I told my niece.

  She looked up at me with eyes as big as
saucers. "Why would you eat her?"

  "Why would you call her DinDin?" I countered.

  "Because that's her name," Katie declared without a doubt.

  I looked from her, to the bird, wondering if she'd actually understood what the chicken had said. Was she too somehow able to understand the animals?

  "No chicken for dinner," Susan said quietly.

  "Ice cream with Dominic," Katie shouted excitedly, startling the poor bird who almost jumped out of Angel’s arms.

  "I promised her that you'd take her to visit Dominic," Susan explained quietly.

  I frowned. Patrick had gotten a phone call that required his attention before he'd been able to tell me who he wanted me to help him kill. Considering that Tony or Anthony Delveccio was the one who had ordered the hit, I wasn't sure it was the greatest idea to go visit their grandson/nephew.

  Chapter Four

  "I don't know," I said slowly, trying to come up with an excuse for staying away from the hospital, without confessing that I was avoiding the mob boss.

  Katie stamped her foot. "You promised."

  "I didn't promise," I told her sternly.

  "But I did," Aunt Susan said forlornly. "Please, Maggie…"

  I turned so that I could get a better look at my aunt. When I was a kid, she'd been the one least likely to fold under pressure, but it appeared that Katie had her wrapped around her little finger. "I'm not sure this is the best idea."

  Susan's gaze widened, signaling her desperation. "I did promise her."

  "Then you take her."

  Aunt Susan shook her head. "I can't."

  I looked at Angel hopefully.

  He shook his head. "Sorry, I have plans with some buddies."

  I could tell by the way Katie's lower lip was starting to tremble, she was on the verge of tears, thinking she wasn't going to get to see her friend. "Okay, we'll go."

  Katie smiled, Angel put the chicken back in the enclosure, and Aunt Susan nodded her approval.

  I clenched my jaw. I'd made everyone except myself happy.

  Which is why, after putting God back in his terrarium, I got some perverse pleasure when, forty-five minutes later, Vinny, Delveccio’s bodyguard gave me the evil eye as I carried Katie toward Dominic’s room. I was pleased to see I wasn't the only one unhappy with my arrival at the hospital. The muscle-bound man shifted his weight, as though he was getting ready to physically fight me if I attempted to enter. I glared at him while he effectively blocked the doorway.

  "Boss isn't expecting any visitors," Vinny sneered.

  "Could you tell him we’re here anyway?" I did my best to sound non-confrontational.

  He didn’t appear to be moved by my good manners. "He doesn't want any interruptions."

  I frowned, unsure of how to proceed. I really didn't want to get into an argument with the idiot while holding Katie.

  Katie had her own way to solve the problem. "Mr. D., I am here to play with Dominic," she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  I was pretty sure I heard Vinny growl his displeasure.

  "Is that my favorite card shark?" the mob boss bellowed from inside the room.

  Vinny grudgingly moved aside to allow us to enter.

  Both the young boy and the older man smiled as we walked in.

  I smiled back at Dominic, who looked pale and small against the bed sheets. I carefully avoided eye contact with the pinky ring-wearing criminal mastermind.

  Delveccio got out of his seat and indicated that I should put Katie down in it. I lowered her gently, grateful for the reprieve from carrying her. She immediately pulled a plastic superhero figure from her pocket. "I got this for you," she told Dominic. "He’ll keep you company when I'm not here."

  "Where did you get that?" I asked sharply, knowing it wasn't one of her toys.

  "I told Angel I wanted to get it for Dom, so he bought it for me." She glared at me defiantly, challenging me to take it from her.

  "That was nice of both of you," I said quietly.

  Delveccio chuckled. "This one's a bigger handful than you are." He tilted his head to the side, indicating that we should leave the kids to play together.

  I followed him to the far corner of the room.

  "Wasn't expecting to see you today," he said, moving close enough that we’d touch if we took a deep breath.

  Not that I wanted to. I had to fight the urge to lean away as his overwhelming cologne threatened to choke me.

  "Someone promised her she could come visit,” I confessed, glancing over at the kids.

  "Have you seen our mutual friend?"

  I held my breath for a second, unsure of where things stood between him and Patrick. "Just for a second," I replied carefully.

  "He tell you about the latest job?"

  "Wasn't time. He got called away."

  Lines furrowed the mobster’s forehead. "Busy guy."

  "He appears to be," I agreed.

  "He asked for your help?"

  I shrugged. "Like I said, he got called away."

  Delveccio’s gaze narrowed. He suspected I wasn't telling the truth.

  "Something I should know?" I hoped he couldn’t hear the false note of bravado weaving through my tone. I didn't like the idea that I was somehow supposed to walk a tightrope between him and Patrick Mulligan. One was my sometime boss, and one was my sometime murder mentor.

  "Have you heard of John Lamb?”

  My stomach clenched at the name and my gaze slid to where Katie was excitedly telling Dominic a story. Everyone had heard of John Lamb. "The playground sniper?"

  The mobster nodded, frown lines etching themselves into his chin.

  I swallowed hard. John Lamb had been arrested for making a school playground his personal target practice. He'd shot seven people, two teachers, and five fourth graders. He'd picked them off, like one of those games at a carnival, shooting one at a time while hiding in the back of his pickup truck. It was dumb luck that he'd been stopped. It was a miracle he hadn't hurt more people.

  In the midst of his shooting spree, an old woman had lost control of her car, and rammed his pickup truck. He'd fallen out, knocking himself unconscious in the process.

  If anyone deserved to die, it was John Lamb.

  Of course, he claimed he’d been framed, but isn’t that what all guilty men do?

  "Our mutual friend wasn't sure he was up to the job," Delveccio said, watching me closely.

  "I think we’ll tag-team him," I replied. I now understood why Patrick had said he was supposed to protect the target. Lamb had received more than his fair share of death threats. Rightfully so, in my opinion. No doubt, Patrick was assigned to his protection detail. That would make killing the sniper tricky, to say the least.

  Delveccio nodded his approval. "You two work well together."

  I nodded. Patrick and I did work well on a professional basis. It was our personal lives where we couldn't get our acts together.

  The mobster glanced over at his grandson, who was listening intently to whatever story Katie was telling him. “She’s making progress?”

  “It’s slow.” My voice caught as I made the admission.

  He nodded sympathetically. “We want to make everything better for them. Give them an easy time of it, but life doesn’t work out that way.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was referring to his grandson or someone else, so I just nodded.

  I thought I might have spotted his eyes sparkling with tears, but he blinked and they were gone as he asked gruffly, "How’s my nephew treating you?"

  "He's great," I said truthfully. "I don't know what we'd do without him."

  The mobster shook his head. "I won't lie to you. I'm not happy that he's decided to play nursemaid instead of joining the family business."

  "He doesn't seem to be too eager," I said carefully. I owed Delveccio a lot. If he hadn’t hired me to kill his son-in-law, I would not have had the funds to keep Katie in this, the best, hospital. Conversely, Angel had saved my niece's life and was an integral part of
her recovery, so I felt the need to defend him in the face of his uncle's disappointment.

  "I don't suppose you could convince him to come over to the dark side?" Delveccio suggested lightly.