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

by JB Lynn

  "Oh." It wasn't terribly intelligent, and probably didn't offer her much comfort, but was all I could think to say.

  "I know you must be disappointed in me." My usually proud aunt hung her head in shame.

  "Why would I be disappointed?"

  "You count on me to take care of her. Everyone counts on me."

  Imagining how great her mental burden must be, I pulled her into a tight hug. "You've done it all for so many years. We just assume that you can do it all."

  "But I can't." Her voice wobbled, breaking my heart.

  "And you don't have to. I'll help you. We'll all help you."

  "That's a nice thought, but with the exception of you, no one in this family has ever been able to take care of themselves."

  Thinking about how dependent I was on the assistance of my aunts and Angel to take care of Katie, I said, "I think you've got me confused with Teresa."

  Aunt Susan pulled away slightly, so that she could look me in the eye. "Who do you think paid the rent for that house they were living in?"

  I voiced what I had always assumed. "Dirk the jerk."

  "You shouldn't speak ill of the dead," she lectured automatically. "And you're wrong. There wasn't one month when they lived in that place that they didn't take a 'loan' from me to subsidize their budget."

  I frowned. That didn't make sense. My older sister Teresa, Katie's mom, was the responsible, stable one. At least that's what I had always believed. "But…"

  Susan shook her head sadly. "Perhaps I did you both a disservice. A couple of years after you had moved out, and were living on your own, your sister decided she wanted to do the same. But she didn't have your work ethic, and she had the same terrible taste in men as your mother."

  "So you helped her?"

  "I thought that once she was out on her own, she'd develop a greater sense of independence. Instead, she found Dirk." She rolled her eyes at the mention of Teresa's husband.

  "So you helped them?"

  "Believe me, I'm not proud of it."

  "Do Leslie and Loretta know?"

  Susan shrugged. "It was never discussed and I wouldn't be surprised if Loretta offered her fair share of support also." Susan patted my arm. "You were the only one we never had to worry about."

  "But you hated where I lived," I reminded her.

  "I worried about where you lived," she corrected. "It wasn't in the best of neighborhoods and don't forget that apartment there blew up."

  I couldn't argue with her about that.

  "And that brought you full circle, back to us, back to the B&B.”

  "And suddenly I'm someone else you have to worry about. I'm sorry."

  Susan clutched me to her tightly. "Don't you apologize, Margaret May. You've been dealt a rough hand in life, but instead of complaining, you've taken responsibility."

  "But I don't want it," I confessed on a whisper. "I never wanted to be responsible for another person. I worry I'm going to screw up with Katie all the time."

  "I know those feelings well." Susan patted my back reassuringly. "All you can do is make the best of it."

  "How?"

  Before she could answer, there was a knock on the office door.

  Releasing me, she moved to answer it.

  Pursing my lips, I blew out all the air in my lungs, trying to calm myself. The last thing we needed, was to scare away an applicant. We needed someone to help Katie. We needed someone to help my mother.

  And I was pretty sure that both Susan and I needed someone, anyone, to help us, too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  If Miss Tartan was too strict, the second candidate, was too lackadaisical. Susan and I left the office without hiring anyone, going our own separate ways.

  As soon as I was in the car, God began to squeak.

  "I still can't understand you."

  He fell silent.

  I rested my head on the steering wheel, unsure of what to do next. I was worried about Katie, concerned about what would happen with my mother, freaked out about Kevin Belgard, and terrified I'd never speak to my animal friends again.

  When my cell phone buzzed, I didn't even look at it. "Go away."

  It kept buzzing.

  Finally, just before it went to voicemail, I answered, without even looking to see who was calling. "What?"

  There was silence at the other end.

  "Hello?"

  “Bad time, Mags?”

  "It's pretty much always a bad time with me," I said bitterly.

  Again with the silence.

  "Did you want something, Patrick?"

  "I wanted to talk business."

  I closed my eyes and sighed. Considering that I now needed to figure out how to cover the bills for my mother's care, in addition to Katie's, I couldn't afford not to talk business. "So talk."

  "Meet me at the cemetery." He hung up without saying good-bye.

  "Patrick beckons, and I have to go running," I complained to the lizard.

  He wisely remained quiet.

  "Not that I don't think that Lamb doesn't deserve to die," I continued. "But I have a lot of other stuff on my plate."

  I took my time driving over to the cemetery. It wouldn't kill Patrick to have to wait for me once in a while. Before we got there, I scooped the lizard out of my bra, and let him rest on a bed of tissues stuffed into the cup holder.

  When I got to the graveyard, I got out of my car and climbed into the redhead’s.

  He squinted at me. "You seem stressed."

  "Are you making that observation as a trained police detective?"

  "Did I do something?"

  I let out a huff of air. "Not particularly."

  "Anything I can help with?"

  "Not unless you can double my salary for this job."

  "Something wrong with Katie?"

  "Is this twenty questions or something? Because frankly, I have better things to do than sit in a car chitchatting."

  He pitched his voice lower. "I can think of better things we can do in a car."

  I rolled my eyes, not falling for his cheesy seduction act.

  Something flickered in his gaze and I realized I'd hit a nerve. The guilt in me urged me to offer Patrick an olive branch. "You wanted to talk about Lamb?"

  "How do we feel about bombs?"

  I blinked. "We?"

  He tilted his head to the side. "Okay, how do you feel about bombs?"

  "In general, I'm not a fan."

  "That's unfortunate."

  "You want to kill Lamb with a bomb?"

  Patrick shrugged, drumming on the steering wheel. "It's one avenue I’m exploring."

  "But wouldn't that endanger innocent lives?"

  He didn't answer, but stared ahead, his jaw clenched.

  I frowned. All this time, I'd assumed we worked under the same basic code, only killing those who deserved it, and keeping the innocents safe. "You can't endanger other people."

  "I can't do anything," he reminded me. "I'm assigned to protect the son-of-a-bitch."

  "So you could end up hurt."

  "That is a possibility." He looked at me, a strange look on his face. "How would you feel about that?"

  "Terrible. You think that because I'm in a bad mood, I want something awful to happen to you?"

  He shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

  "You should know me better than that."

  "I know you intimately," he reminded me, leaning over slowly, letting me know he planned on kissing me.

  I turned, so that his lips met my cheek instead of my mouth. "I thought I knew you. But now you're suggesting something…"

  He sat back in his seat. "Drastic?"

  "Wrong. It's just wrong."

  An uncomfortable silence roiled between us. When he didn't say anything else, I got out of the car. I didn't look back. Not in the cemetery, not for the entire ride home.

  Even though he couldn't respond, I told God what had transpired. I told him about my doubts. I told him that for the first time in a long time
, I was afraid of Patrick Mulligan.

  When I got home, I heard voices coming from the backyard. After scooping up the lizard, I headed toward the noise.

  Aunt Leslie and Katie were seated by the chicken coop, telling the bird an animated story. Something about princesses, flying cars, and a basket of corn.

  DinDin didn't appear interested, but Katie was laughing, and I was grateful to Leslie for that.

  "Hey, baby girl," I called with fake enthusiasm.

  My niece waved excitedly. "Hey, aunty girl.”

  I chuckled. "That's a new one."

  Katie beamed proudly. "Can DeeDee come out to play?"

  "Of course." I opened the storm cellar door, setting the dog free from the basement. A blur of dark fur bolted past, almost knocking me over.

  God’s squeak was outrageous and I struggled to maintain my balance.

  The chicken squawked with alarm.

  “Hush,” Leslie ordered.

  The Doberman barked excitedly.

  Katie clapped.

  Only Piss, who emerged slowly from the basement, trailing the dog, stayed silent. She looked me up and down with her good eye, and I got the distinct impression she could tell I was faking my good mood. She wound herself around my legs, offering silent support.

  “Thanks, sweetie,” I whispered. “I can always count on you.”

  "Sounds like there's a party going on here," Angel declared, strolling into the backyard.

  "With cupcakes?" Katie asked hopefully.

  Angel chuckled. "No cupcakes, but if you'd like I'll give you an apple."

  Katie scrunched up her nose.

  The dog began to bark excitedly at Angel, which I knew meant that she was volunteering to eat an apple.

  The lizard squeaked, no doubt telling DeeDee to quiet down.

  Leslie laughed. "Someone's hungry."

  "It would appear that way," I agreed. Suddenly, I felt like someone was watching me. Instinctively, I looked in the direction of Belgard’s house. A curtain shifted in one of the upstairs windows. A chill snaked down my spine. Even though I couldn't see him, I knew he was still there.

  Leslie picked up Katie. "Time for us to get washed up for dinner."

  She carried the protesting little girl inside.

  I continued to stare at Belgard’s house, letting him know that I knew he was there.

  "Something up?" Angel asked me, following my gaze.

  "Just a lot on my mind." I turned deliberately, so that my back was to the window where the curtain had moved.

  "I met your mom today." Angel made the admission carefully.

  That got my attention. "Oh yeah?"

  "I was visiting my cousin, and ran into Leslie. She introduced us."

  His tone was neutral and his expression blank. I couldn't tell what he thought of my mother. "So?"

  "She's beautiful. Close to angelic.”

  "You saw her on a good day."

  "Unlike when she pelted you with gelatin?" he teased gently.

  I smiled at the reminder of our first meeting. He'd worried that the red stickiness covering me was the result of an injury. "You played hero," I remembered aloud, "coming to my rescue by changing my tire."

  "I don't think you're really the damsel in distress type. It's part of your charm." He winked at me.

  Heat teased my cheeks--I could feel them growing warm. It was nice to know a handsome man found something about me charming.

  Loretta appeared. "There you are. Dinner's ready, lovebirds."

  "We're not," Angel protested.

  Loretta waved her hand, dismissing the idea. She tottered back inside on her high heels.

  "Ignore her," I urged. "She says that about everyone."

  "Everyone?"

  I shrugged. "Pretty much."

  He pitched his voice lower. “And here I thought you and I had something special going.”

  I stared up at him, too flustered to speak, too weak-kneed to move, caught off-guard by his sudden flirtation and my body’s traitorous reaction to it.

  “We should go inside,” Angel said with a smile that seemed to know exactly the effect he’d had on me.

  I nodded dumbly and stumbled toward the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After a dinner saturated with tales of true love provided by Loretta, I helped Katie get changed for bed.

  Someone knocked softly on the door to Katie's bedroom.

  "Come in," I invited.

  Aunt Susan stuck her head in. "Angel’s buddy, the third applicant, has arrived."

  "Is something wrong?" I asked, unable to read the strange expression on Susan's face.

  She shook her head. "Come meet her. You should both come meet her."

  Scooping up Katie and her favorite stuffed bear, I carried her into the dining room.

  A beautiful thirty-something woman was being shown a family photo album by Leslie.

  "This is Katie," Susan said as introduction.

  The newcomer looked up, an easy smile stretching across her face. "Hi there, Katie. I'm Rhonda."

  "But everyone calls her Ronnie," Angel said, entering the dining room, holding a long, rectangular box.

  Katie waved shyly.

  Extending my hand, I walked up to her. "Hi. I'm Maggie, Katie's aunt."

  "Nice to meet you, Maggie." She shook my hand enthusiastically.

  I was relieved to find she had a good handshake. You can tell a lot about a person by that initial physical contact.

  "What's in the box?" Katie asked curiously.

  Angel smiled at her. "Have a seat and I'll show you."

  I put her down in the nearest chair. "I need to talk to Rhonda for a few minutes."

  My niece nodded, distractedly, her focus on the mysterious box.

  "We'll be fine," Angel assured me.

  I motioned for Rhonda to follow me. Susan joined us in the foyer.

  "I'm so sorry I missed the interview earlier," the woman apologized. "I had a flat tire."

  "It happens to everyone," I assured her. "Thank you for making the time to come over this evening."

  "Your resume is quite impressive," Susan said.

  "Thank you, ma'am."

  "And it doesn't hurt that Angel is vouching for you." My aunt gave the job applicant a thorough up-and-down.

  "He told me a bit about Katie's situation." Rhonda looked me in the eye. "Sounds like you had a lot unexpectedly dumped in your lap."

  I nodded. "But we are all doing the best we can."

  "Help me, Rhonda!" Katie yelled from the other room.

  I gasped. What were the chances of Armani's prediction coming true?

  Rhonda looked at me questioningly. "You don't want me to go?"

  I tilted my head. "Go ahead."

  I followed her as she hurried into the dining room, just to see what would play out.

  "Angel said you can make this make music," Katie said, pointing to the xylophone with rainbow-colored keys that sat in front of her. "It doesn't work." To prove her point, she picked up a rubber-tipped mallet, and banged away on the instrument, creating clunky sounds.

  Rhonda sat in the seat beside her. "Tell you what, instead of playing for you, what if I teach you how to play a song?"

  Katie nodded excitedly.

  Behind me, Aunt Susan placed a hand on my shoulder. I knew what she was thinking. Rhonda was the one we would hire.

  The therapist took the mallet from Katie, showed her how to hold it in a looser grip, and began to play ‘Mary had a Little Lamb’.

  Katie grinned, and something inside me relaxed a little. I might not have known what to do about Belgard or Lamb, but I did know what to do about my niece.

  Standing across the room, Angel caught my eye, his expression inquisitive.

  I nodded.