by JB Lynn
Copyright JB Lynn The Hitwoman and the Mother Load
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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 and the Chubby Cherub is intended for 18+ older, and for mature audiences only.
© 2016 JB Lynn
Cover Designer -- Hot Damn Designs
Editor -- Parisa Zolfaghari
Proofreader -- Proof Before You Publish
Formatting- Silla Webb
You know it’s going to be a bad day when the only weapon you have to defend yourself with is a rubber chicken.
My name is Maggie Lee, and you’d think that as a semi-professional assassin I’d have a whole arsenal of weapons at my disposal, but at the moment, all I had was my missing sister’s journal and the aforementioned chicken dog toy.
DeeDee, my Doberman pinscher, growled at the intruder. “Attack?”
I was about ready to give her the “Attack” command from where I hid behind the couch, except we don’t have an attack command, I can barely get her to walk on a leash on our good days…anyway, I was ready to tell her to attack whoever had broken in, when God, a brown anole lizard named Godzilla, God for short, said, “Don’t be an idiot. Don’t you know who that is?”
“Maggie?” a voice whispered.
I didn’t answer. I held my breath trying to figure out who entered uninvited.
“Are you here?” the voice called softly.
“Patrick!” DeeDee panted excitedly, sounding like a blonde bimbo. “Patrick!”
I shoved the journal under the sofa, sucked in a deep breath, and took a moment to compose myself. For a second, my heart fluttered with the hope that, although he’d missed Valentine’s Day by a few hours, he was here to make some wild romantic gesture, hopefully something that didn’t include another key stuck in a bar of soap – but that’s a whole other story. I was hoping for chocolate. Or roses. Or maybe something sparkly. I’d have even been happy if he’d given me a jar of olives.
But when I stood up I saw that my sometime lover was empty-handed. “What is wrong with you?” I whisper-screamed at the redhead standing only a few feet away. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Sorry,” he murmured, bending to pet the dog’s head. “I had to see you.”
Stepping around the dog, Patrick made his way to my side and wrapped his hand around my upper arm. “You need to promise me you won’t scream.”
Fresh alarm tickled my belly as I stared up into his serious face. I had the feeling that I had bigger problems to deal with than his lack of romantic gifts.
Patrick sighed heavily, his gaze boring into mine. “I’m so sorry to tell you this, but I thought you would want to know.”
In the momentary pause, my mind went to a dozen worst possible outcomes. Something had happened to someone in my family, or my friend, Armani, or even the mobster Delveccio, whose life I had just saved.
I wasn’t the only one bracing myself for bad news. My one-eyed cat, Piss, moaned, “Uh oh.”
“Your mom is missing.”
I blinked up at Patrick, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “What?”
“I heard it on the police scanner,” he explained. “Your mom has gone missing from the loo—” He snapped his mouth shut, realizing what he’d been about to say. “…the hospital.”
“Loony bin,” I muttered, finishing the thought he’d been too polite to voice.
“You shouldn’t call it that,” God opined haughtily from his terrarium.
Since Patrick couldn’t understand what the lizard was saying, all he heard was squeaking. He turned his head toward the noise.
I closed my eyes against a wave of pain and panic as the reality of his words hit me.
“Breathe, Maggie,” Patrick coached, his wintergreen breath fanning my face.
I forced my lungs to work and opened my eyes to search his face. Something was definitely off between us. Despite the news about my missing mother, I couldn’t let it go unmentioned. “You never call me that.”
“What?”
“You always call me Mags, not Maggie.”
Something flickered in his gaze before he said gruffly, “I think you have more pressing problems. Don’t you?”
I tamped down the flare of anger I felt at his avoidance and forced myself to focus on the bigger issue. “She can’t have been gone that long. The hospital hasn’t even called us yet.”
Patrick nodded. “They’ll search the grounds and surrounding area before they make the notification. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before that happens.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
Something about the way he said that put me further on edge. Something was definitely going on, but I didn’t know what.
Before I could press him, he moved toward the door, absent-mindedly patting the dog on his way. “I should go.”
I swallowed hard, trying to control the confusion, anger, and fear I felt toward him. “Thanks for letting me know,” I said in the most neutral tone I could muster.
His green gaze met mine from across the room. For a split second I thought he would explain what was going on, but he shook his head, muttered, “Be careful,” and then let himself out.
“Well that was awkward,” God said.
“Shut up.” I threw the rubber chicken that I still held at his glass enclosure. It thudded to the floor harmlessly.
“No need to get violent,” the reptile huffed.
“Oh shut up,” I growled.
“It was uncomfortable,” Piss added, her uncharacteristic support of the lizard catching me off-guard.
Frowning, I picked up the chicken from the floor. I knew they were both right, but I didn’t want to talk about it. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about the status of my relationship with the hitman/cop. My mother was missing. Not to mention all hell would break loose when her sisters found out.
“With me, DeeDee,” I said tiredly, heading for the stairs that led up to the kitchen.
“Just because the canine didn’t point out the obvious, is no reason to take her with you when you walk out on us.” God flicked his tail, signaling his outrage.
I sighed. “I’m taking her in the hopes that petting her will result in lowered blood pressures when they find out Mom is missing. But hey, if you want to let them all pet you…”
“Sensitive skin!” the lizard yelped.
“What about you?” I asked, glaring at the cat.
Wisely, she slipped under the sofa without a word.
“Upstairs,” I ordered the dog.
She hesitated.
“I’ll find you something to eat,” I offered, hating myself for resorting to bribery, but too tired to order, cajole, or threaten her.
She bounded up the stairs just as the landline began to ring.
Chapter One
I followed the Doberman into the kitchen and busied myself with getting her some cheese out of the refrigerator, while I waited to find ou
t who had answered the phone.
I was hoping that it wasn't my sister Marlene, who I wasn’t even sure was home from her date yet. Since she'd only recently rejoined the family fold after leaving us to live as an escort for a number of years, I was afraid the news of Mom’s disappearance would hit her hard.
I doubted that Aunt Susan, my mother's sister and guardian, who I knew was being proposed to by her boyfriend, U.S. Marshal Lawrence Griswald, would be the one to answer the phone.
That left Aunt Leslie. There had been a time, back when Leslie had been perpetually stoned, that she might have been the best recipient for an upsetting call. Now that she had gotten clean, she'd become more high strung. I hoped that the call, if she'd been the one to receive it, had arrived during her nightly meditation, in the hopes that she'd remain calm.
I tossed the dog a piece of cheese.
"More?” She panted hopefully.
I tossed another.
"Everything okay?”
Startled, I whirled around to find Angel Delveccio standing behind me. His U.S. Navy t-shirt was on inside out, indicating he pulled it on in a hurry. He still looked ridiculously hot as he stood there in his bare feet.
Concern glowed in the dark eyes of the muscle-bound ex-sailor Aunt Susan had hired to be my niece’s physical therapist and manny.
"Just feeding the dog," I said nonchalantly. It wasn't like I could tell him that my sometime lover had busted in to let me know that my mom was on the lam. "Want some?" I held the cheese out to him.
Unlike the dog, he didn’t wag his hind end (which, I must admit, I’ve noticed is quite cute). He shook his head. "I figured something had happened. A phone ringing late at night usually signals trouble."
As if on cue, Aunt Leslie began screeching, “Family meeting! Family meeting!"
"See?" Angel hurried out of the kitchen, toward the stairs that led up to the second floor, as someone, I assumed it was Leslie, came thundering down.
"It's okay," I told the dog, who looked nervous due to the sudden activity. I tossed her the last of the cheese.
"Family meeting," Leslie said, wild-eyed when she saw me walking toward the dining room.
"Katie's sleeping," I reminded her gently.
Templeton appeared at the top of the stairs. He was wearing silk pajamas, no doubt a gift from his fiancée, Aunt Loretta, Leslie's twin sister. Thankfully, Loretta was still in the hospital recovering from an ankle injury, so we were not subjected to her half-naked body. "What's going on?" Templeton asked sleepily.
"Family meeting.” Leslie motioned for him to come downstairs.
Aunt Susan and Griswald appeared behind Templeton. The three of them descended.
"If there's going to be a family meeting," Susan said, "it will be conducted in a civilized manner in the dining room."
"You can always count on Susan's sense of decorum in an emergency," I whispered to Angel.
He appeared more confused than amused.
"You too, Angel," Leslie said. "You are part of the family."
With the dog trailing closely behind me, I led the way to the dining room, knowing full well what was about to be announced.
As soon as everyone was sitting, Susan asked, "Who called?"
"The police," Leslie answered.
"Is this about Archie again?" Susan huffed indignantly. She looked at me accusingly, as though I was responsible for the actions of my ne’er-do-well father.
"It's about Mary," Leslie said.
Her sister's gaze ricocheted from my face to Leslie's faster than the speed of light. "What happened?"
"She's missing. The staff has searched for her, as have the police."
Susan slumped in her chair.
I felt more than a twinge of pity for her. She hadn’t been able to bask in the joy of having been asked for her hand in marriage for very long before her family had yet another emergency. I knew the feeling all too well.
My gaze strayed to her hands, clasped tightly in front of her, looking for Griswald’s ring, but she wasn’t wearing it. I wondered if that was because he hadn’t yet gotten around to giving it to her, or because she’d refused to wear it.
They were both frowning, but that could have been because of her sister’s AWOL status.
“I’ll go look for her,” Angel, the one person around the table who really wasn’t family, offered immediately.
“Me too,” I said, because it was the right thing to do, not because it was what I felt compelled to do.
That probably sounds harsh, but my mother had disappeared before, usually with the help of her ex-con husband, my father.
As though Susan was reading my thoughts, she said, “This is Archie’s fault.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Griswald murmured.
I was surprised to hear him defend the man who’d assaulted him and hastened his retirement from the U.S. Marshal Service.
Susan snorted her disbelief. “He’s around. There’s trouble. He’s responsible.”
I didn’t disagree with the likelihood that he was to blame, but a sense of guilt niggled at my gut. I’d given him a wad of cash to get out of town. What if he was using it to spirit my mother away?
I jumped to my feet, eager to find and stop him if that was the case.
Everyone surrounding the table turned their gaze on me.
“Time’s a-wasting,” I said.
“I’ll go with you.” Angel stood.
“And Susan and I will search,” Griswald declared.
“I’ll look for her too,” Leslie announced.
“No.” Susan pinned her sister to her seat with a glare. “You and Templeton stay here to keep an eye on Katie and tell Marlene what’s happened when she gets home.”
“We should call her,” Leslie said. “She’d want—”
“Let her enjoy her date with Doc,” Griswald interrupted drily. “There’s no reason for everyone’s night to be ruined.”
Susan shot him a look I couldn’t decipher, but she didn’t argue with him.
“Go too I’ll?” the grammar-challenged dog asked.
I shook my head.
She whined softly.
“I’ll grab a coat,” I told Angel while motioning for the dog to follow me.
We ran down to the basement together with her insisting, “Go I. Go I.” repeatedly.
“No.” I shoved my arms into a coat. “I need you to stay here and keep Leslie company.”
She growled her displeasure at the idea.
“It’s important,” I told her, zipping up the jacket. “I need you to make sure she doesn’t drink any of the wine Susan has in the house. The last thing we need is for her to fall off the wagon.”
Ears at attention, DeeDee cocked her head to the side. “Wagon off the fall?”
I looked at her helplessly, trying to figure out a way to explain the slippery slope of addiction in terms a dog could understand.
“Don’t you worry, sugar,” Piss purred, emerging from beneath the sofa. “We won’t let her get soused.”
“Thank you.” I looked to God. “Are you coming along?”
“But of course.”
Unzipping the coat, I plucked the lizard from his terrarium and put him down my shirt. “But you have to be quiet since Angel is coming along.”
Piss made a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and hacking up a hairball.
I looked down to make sure she wasn’t choking. “You okay?”
“Oh sugar,” she drawled with obvious amusement. “I sincerely doubt that man is coming along. He’s more the leading the way kind of guy.”
I frowned. She wasn’t wrong.
“We’re not finding her just standing here,” God reminded me from his spot hanging out in my bra.
“Just don’t let Leslie drink,” I reminded the other two animals, running upstairs, leaving the door open behind me so they could have the run of the house to keep an eye on my aunt.
Angel, who never seemed to be bothered by the cold, waited with key
s in hand. “I’ll drive.”
I nodded wordlessly, thinking that Piss was right about him.
Even though his heavy-handedness would bother me normally, I couldn't help but think it was nice to have someone else take charge when I had more pressing things to worry about.
Chapter Two
We rode over in his truck to the mental health facility where my mother resided. Neither of us spoke. He knew the route as well as I did since his cousin Angelina lived there too.
