The Hitwoman in a Pickle (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 18)

by Lynn, JB

  “Of course,” Patrick mused, “I’m fonder of you than most people, so maybe it’s understandable.”

  There had been a time when a statement like that from the sexy redhead would have reduced me to a quivering puddle, but now it just felt like a compliment from a friend, and I grinned shyly at his admission.

  “This treacle-laced love fest is going to make me ill,” God warned from his hiding spot.

  The squeaking noise made Patrick laugh again, which resulted in him grabbing his ribs and gasping in pain.

  That’s pretty much the usual effect I have on men.

  Chapter Five

  I headed toward home with DeeDee. Since she’d been so helpful, I didn’t complain when she stopped to sniff every third clump of grass like it was a treasure she’d been searching her whole life to find.

  As a result, I was standing still, staring into space, when a car pulled up beside me.

  I glanced over at the driver and had to fight the urge to frown as I muttered under my breath, “Not now.”

  “Now not?” DeeDee panted curiously, glancing up from her fascinating clump.

  The driver waved before rolling down his window. “Just the lady I was looking for.”

  I smiled weakly.

  “Not that lady is the word most people use to describe you,” the man continued. “The boss calls you ‘the broad’.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, imagining Delveccio saying just that. “How are you, Gino?” I asked the mobster’s bodyguard. Gino and I had a much more cordial relationship than I’d had with Delveccio’s former-bodyguard, Vinnie, who’d thankfully met an unfortunate end, so I wanted to stay on Gino’s friendly side since he hadn’t ever tried to kill me.

  Yet.

  “He’s got a job for you.”

  “A job?” I asked suspiciously. “The kind I’d need a resume for?”

  Last I’d heard, the mobster was going legit for the sake of his beloved grandson, Dominic.

  Gino shook his head. “The kind he knows you’re uniquely qualified for.”

  I nodded slowly. It wasn’t like I could turn the mob boss or his henchman down.

  “Can you meet him at the RV place at 8 tonight?”

  I nodded again. Because of my pal Armani, I was well-acquainted with the RV lot.

  “He’ll be pleased. See you then!” With that, he waved and drove away.

  “Great,” I said to DeeDee, who was happy to be moving along. “One more problem to deal with.”

  “Fix DeeDee,” the dog offered, licking my hand.

  “Thanks, sweetie.” I patted her head. “But I don’t think it’s the kind of problem you can fix.”

  As usual with Delveccio’s assignments, I was worried that it wasn’t a problem I’d be able to fix, either.

  Chapter Six

  When I got back to the B&B, it was blessedly empty. Deciding to take advantage of the unexpected solitude, I let Piss out of the basement, poured myself a cup of coffee, and sprawled out on the couch.

  I only half-listened as the lizard and dog told the cat what had transpired at the park. I was too busy worrying that the information Ian had given to Jack Stern had put Thurston in jeopardy. I was even more concerned that Ian would endanger himself in his search for the man who’d raised him.

  “So what’s the plan, sugar?” Piss pounced on my chest, interrupting my swirling concerns.

  I gasped at the sudden pressure on my chest and had to fight the urge to shove my feline friend back onto the floor.

  “She’s right, we need a plan,” God agreed from his perch on the arm of the sofa.

  “Plan!” DeeDee barked in agreement.

  “Those who fail to plan, plan to fail,” God continued in his most superior tone.

  “Where’d you get that?” I snapped. “From a Wheel of Fortune puzzle?”

  “Do not mock the hallowed place that Pat and Vanna hold in my heart,” the lizard warned imperiously.

  “Fight stop,” DeeDee panted, sticking her head between myself and my sparring partner.

  “Out of the mouth of the innocent,” Piss purred.

  Before we could discuss plans any more, the doorbell rang.

  “Door! Door! Door!” Instead of going around the couch, the Doberman attempted to scramble over it, her rear feet getting tangled in my legs so that she swayed unsteadily to the side.

  “Sensitive skin!” God screamed, afraid that the dog was about to crush him.

  I struggled to right the dog as someone kept pushing the damn doorbell like they had an itchy trigger finger.

  “Door! Door!” DeeDee barked excitedly as I shoved her butt over the top of the couch.

  “Idiot beast,” God muttered.

  “Someone’s at the door,” Piss meowed sarcastically.

  “Shut up,” I gasped, rolling off the sofa into an undignified heap on the floor before getting to my feet. “So much for a couple of moments of peace and quiet.”

  Whoever was laying on the doorbell apparently didn’t know how to quit. The racket of the chime and the dog’s incessant barking had me throwing open the door and yelling, “What?” before I ever even looked to see who was standing there.

  “Hola, chica.”

  I glared at my friend Armani Vasquez, she of RV World. “What’s with the doorbell routine?”

  She smiled back. “I knew you were at home.”

  “Oh yeah?” I sneered, still annoyed that she’d disturbed my quiet time. “Was that your psychic thing or just because you saw my car in the driveway?”

  Frowning, she pushed her way past me into the foyer of the B&B. “You know, I thought when you gave up the daily responsibility of caring for your niece that you’d lighten up a little, but you’re still carrying around a giant chip on your shoulder.”

  “It’s been a busy day,” I countered.

  She scowled at the cat, dog, and lizard, who had all gathered around to watch our argument like it was a pay-per-view heavyweight championship fight. “Maybe you should give up your zookeeper duties.”

  “Did you want something? Or did you just want to show up, shove your thumb through the doorbell, and give me a hard time?”

  Instead of answering me, she limped into the dining room, leaving me no choice but to follow her. I scooped up God on the way, placing him on my shoulder, since I knew it would bother her.

  “Why are you here?” I asked as she gingerly lowered herself into a chair.

  She met my gaze steadily and said seriously, “Because you need me,” and then slid a purple cloth bag across the table.

  The lizard groaned, “Not this again.”

  Wordlessly, I picked the bag up and gave it a good shake before pulling out seven wooden tiles. I might not have been thrilled at my friend’s arrival, but I wasn’t about to turn down her help, specifically her psychic help.

  I placed the Scrabble tiles face up in the middle of the table so that we could both see them.

  E G N O P P and a blank.

  “Gone peepee,” Armani crowed enthusiastically. “You have to pay attention to who pees.”

  “Everyone pees,” I reminded her. “Can’t you give me something more specific than that?”

  She shrugged. “Pull again.”

  I dumped the tiles back into the bag, shook it like I was mixing a vinaigrette, and pulled out seven more pieces. I held my breath as I placed them on the table.

  A G I L L O R

  “Air Goll,” Armani offered. “Like in those air hockey games. Don’t you win by getting an air goal?”

  “Seriously?” God asked. “Your plan is going to involve playing air hockey?”

  “Play!” DeeDee panted hopefully.

  “Hush,” I said, trying to study the letters.

  “Me?” the lizard and dog asked simultaneously.

  “Both of you.” I stared at the tiles like they contained the answers to the mystery of the universe.

  “Roil Gal,” Armani suggested. “Like a princess or some such shit.”

&
nbsp; I didn’t bother to tell her that “roil gal” was more likely one that was projectile vomiting than having any royal blood.

  “Oooh, ooh!” God cried excitedly. “I’ve got it! Larg Oil!”

  “What did the cute little guy say?” Armani asked curiously.

  I winced, regretting that I’d recently confessed my ability to talk to animals to her.

  “I am not cute!” God raged, stamping his feet and almost slipping off my shoulder.

  “He said there’s a vast conspiracy involving large oil,” I replied dryly.

  Armani’s eyes grew wide. “Oh wow. Like with sheiks and everything?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, with sheiks.”

  “Billionaire sheiks are sexy,” Armani said defensively.

  “What about sheiks who are only millionaires?”

  She shrugged. “I’m a millionaire.”

  I chuckled. “And you’re so humble about it.” Armani had recently won the lottery and she never hesitated to flaunt her nouveau richness.

  “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, my dear,” she mocked, tossing her shampoo-commercial-worthy hair with a flick of her head.

  “Gorilla,” I blurted out.

  “What?”

  “Gorilla.” I moved the letters around and spelled out the word.

  “I still vote for large oil,” God muttered.

  Armani nodded her approval at my solution. “Gorilla. I wonder if it has something to do with what happened at the zoo.”

  “What happened at the zoo?”

  “Don’t you ever read the news?”

  “Like I said, it’s been a busy day.” But the truth is, I don’t usually read the news. In part because I’m making an effort not to know about the Delveccios’ business…plausible deniability and all that when it comes to the bulk of the mobsters’ dealings.

  “Some old guy fell, or was pushed, into the primate pit,” Armani explained.

  “They’re not in a pit, they’re in an enclosure,” I corrected.

  “How would you know?”

  “I took Katie there a while back.”

  Armani’s eyes lit up. “With Angel?”

  I sighed at the mention of my former manny. “Yes, with Angel.”

  “And how is that handsome man? Gone on your date yet?”

  “No. No date.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  I balled my hands into fists, not wanting to talk about the sexy sailor. “Can you please finish the story about the gorilla since that’s the reason you’re here?”

  “I can multi-task.”

  “I can’t. Just tell me about the ape.”

  “I think that apes and gorillas are different,” God opined.

  I gave him the side eye, fighting the urge to flick him off my shoulder.

  “Now what’s he saying?” Armani asked curiously.

  I sighed heavily and muttered, “Forget about an oil conspiracy, I think the two of you have teamed up to drive me crazy.”

  “Short trip,” God sniped.

  “Paranoia doesn’t suit you either,” Armani chastised.

  I pounded on the table. “Finish your story about the damn dirty apes.”

  My friend rolled her eyes before sharing what she knew. “So the old dude ended up with the gorillas and everyone was worried that they were going to tear him limb-from-limb, which, of course, would have meant terrible publicity for the zoo, but instead they took care of him. So instead of death and destruction, it turned into a feel good story…which, come to think of it, is probably why you didn’t know about the story. If he’d ended up dead, it would have made the first page.”

  Exhausted by her story, I asked weakly, “So the guy’s okay?”

  She shrugged. “Unidentified and unconscious as of the newspaper going to press.”

  I jumped up. “That’s it!”

  Of course, I’d forgotten that the lizard was perched on my shoulder. My sudden movement dislodged him and he tumbled down my arm, screaming like a kid on a roller coaster.

  He would have hit the floor, but Piss leapt in, catching him midair.

  Realizing he was in the cat’s mouth, he gasped, “The hunter has made me her prey,” before fainting.

  To her credit, Piss was pretty gentle when she spit him out.

  DeeDee charged forward and sniffed the motionless reptile worriedly. “Kill God you did?”

  Piss hissed at the thought.

  “She didn’t kill him,” I assured the dog, dropping to my knees to get a better look at the lizard. “She just caught him. I think he fainted from the shock.”

  “Up wake,” DeeDee ordered God, but he didn’t budge.

  I examined the lizard’s sensitive skin. “There aren’t any teeth marks.”

  The cat flexed her claws. “Of course there aren’t, if I’d wanted him harmed, I would have just ripped off his head.”

  “Head no,” DeeDee whined, lying down and covering her eyes with her paws.

  “You’re not helping matters,” I told them both.

  “Is the cute little guy okay?” Armani asked, peering over the edge of the table.

  “I’m not cute,” God moaned weakly.

  “He’s just fine,” I assured her. “I’ve got to go to the hospital.”

  “Because of the lizard?” Armani sounded alarmed.

  “Because of the gorilla.”

  Chapter Seven

  Armani may be a doorbell-ringing fool, but she’s actually pretty damn good in the psychic ability department. Unfortunately, there was no way I could tell Ian that when he called an hour later. Not without looking foolish myself.

  Instead, I had to spin some story about how I’d read a story in the newspaper about an unidentified guy who was lying in the hospital after ending up with a gorilla. He was skeptical, but desperate to find Thurston, so he agreed to accompany me to the hospital.

  Ten minutes later, I drove down the block to where he waited on the corner.

  As he climbed into my car, he said, “So the homeless guy in the park is a cop?”

  I nodded.

  “How does DeeDee know him?”

  I slid a sideways glance at him, thinking it was a weird question, but at least it was easy to answer. “He saved her life once. She was hurt at the B&B and he scooped her up and rushed her to the vet.”

  “So she was returning the favor?”

  I shrugged. Technically, it was the second time the Doberman had saved the redhead. The first being the time she’d helped to drag him out of a burning house that had then exploded.

  “Did you tell him about me?”

  “I didn’t tell him who you are, if that’s what you mean,” I assured him.

  “He had to have asked.”

  “He did. I just didn’t answer.”

  Raising his eyebrows, he asked, “And he let you get away with that?”

  I nodded, not wanting to explain my special relationship with Patrick to Ian, any more than I’d wanted to tell my ex-lover about my half brother.

  Ian fell into a sulky silence, half-turning to stare out the passenger side window.

  I made no effort to explain myself or make him feel better, since I figured that doing so would just result in getting myself into deeper trouble.

  Neither of us spoke again until I parked at the hospital.

  “You really think Uncle Thurston could be in there?” Ian asked as he climbed out of the car.

  “He might be.” Then, feeling like I was obligated to throw him a bone of information since I’d been withholding in other areas, I admitted, “It was Armani who told me about the news story.”

  He glanced at me as we strode across the parking lot. “And that’s important, why?”

  I took a deep breath before blurting out, “She’s kind of psychic.”

  “Kind of psychic?” He repeated the phrase curiously.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I know it sounds weird, but sometimes she just ‘knows’ things.”

  “Knows things?”

 
I shrugged. “It’s okay to be skeptical. I certainly was in the beginning.”

  “I’m surprised,” he said as we walked through the hospital doors.

  I looked at him sharply. “You’re surprised that I was skeptical or surprised that I believe her.”

  “Both?”

  I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but there wasn’t time to find out since we had to ask the attendant at the front desk where the mystery man from the zoo was.

  We followed the directions to his location, neither of us speaking.

  My stomach churned nervously, hoping that this wasn’t one of those times when Armani’s psychic advice was a little off. Not that I cared whether Ian believed in her abilities, but I did want him to find Thurston. I knew too well the special kind of hell that not knowing where a relative is can be.

  I could tell from the way he veered off to the side that Ian was going to stop at the nearest nurses’ station and ask to see the patient, so I looped my arm through his and dragged him right on past.

  “You know that saying about how it’s a hell of a lot easier to apologize than to try to get someone’s permission?” I muttered so that only he could hear.

  “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

  “Everyone’s a critic.” I dragged him around the corner.

  “Is that how you usually do things?” he asked, allowing me to guide him.

  “It’s effective.” I rapped twice on the door to the mystery patient’s room to give him enough time to cover himself if he was conscious but wasn’t decent, and then barged into the room.

  Moving past the curtain, I held my breath. I felt Ian tense beside me as the man’s pale form became visible.

  I let out a shaky sigh of relief when I recognized his face.

  Disentangling himself from my grip, Ian rushed to the patient’s bedside and grabbed his shoulder. “I’m here, Uncle Thurston. I’m here.”

  My heart broke a little as I heard the desperation in his tone.

  Unfortunately, I also know what it’s like to have someone you love not be able to respond. I recognized the deflated slump of Ian’s shoulders when Thurston didn’t respond.