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

by Lynn, JB

  She arched an eyebrow, indicating she didn’t believe I’d be performing any sun salutations anytime soon. She was right.

  “I’m going to shower and see Katie off to school, and then I’m going to visit Mom,” I told her, hoping that she wouldn’t invite herself along.

  “Wonderful! I’ll go with you.”

  I smiled weakly. “Great.”

  DeeDee bounded up and asked hopefully, “Me feed?”

  “Sure.” I looked at Aunt Leslie, who’d blissfully settled into warrior pose, eyes closed, a peaceful smile stretching across her lips. For a brief moment, I was overcome by a fit of jealousy that she was so peaceful, but I shook it off and went into the kitchen to feed the dog. While DeeDee ate, I grabbed a slice of pizza and poured myself a cup of coffee before going back to the basement.

  Once I descended the stairs, preceded by the sated dog, God declared, “I haven’t had fresh crickets in days. I’m feeling weak.”

  “And I’m feeling peaked,” Piss mocked.

  So I opened some cat food, gave the mouse the tip of my pizza, and tossed the lizard a couple of dried mealworms, which he turned his nose up at before devouring them like his namesake chowing down on Tokyo. I ate the rest of the slice, except the crust, in between showering and getting dressed.

  Not wanting to be late to take Katie and the twins to school, I threw my hair into a sopping ponytail, grabbed my keys and wallet, and headed out.

  “Go too me?” DeeDee panted hopefully.

  “We’ll see.” I looped her leash around my neck, snagged the leftover crust, and hurried her into the backyard.

  I was pleased to see that Leslie had gone back inside. One less problem to deal with. “Mike! Hey, Mike!” I called.

  “What’s up, doll?” he cawed from a nearby tree.

  I squinted up at him. “Hungry?” I tossed the pizza crust in the direction of the base of the tree.

  He swooped down and carried it up to a branch. “Italian, my favorite. You’re too good to me.”

  “The feeling’s mutual,” I assured him. Focusing on DeeDee, who was sitting expectantly, waiting for me to toss her some food, I said, “Wait here. If we’re walking to school, I’ll come get you. Otherwise, I’ll let you in when we get back.”

  “Ride no?” she whined pitifully.

  “No. Three children plus you makes for a too crowded car.”

  She sighed heavily and trotted away to sniff a clump of grass.

  I headed next door.

  Darlene was standing outside alone. She scowled as she slipped her cellphone into the back pocket of her jeans.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah. The girls are ready, I was just getting a little air.” She offered me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So I heard you convinced Aunt Susan to go away for a couple of days.”

  “I think Griswald did a lot of the convincing, but yeah, I did my part.”

  “Maybe she’ll come back refreshed and relaxed.”

  “Have you ever known her to be relaxed?” I asked as Katie and Darlene’s daughters filed outside.

  “Aunt Maggie is taking you to school today.” Darlene bent to kiss the cheeks of all three girls. “Be good.” With a quick wave to me, she disappeared into her house.

  “Do we want to walk or ride?” I asked the girls.

  “Walk,” Katie cried quickly.

  I nodded my approval, marveling at how miraculous her recovery had been. “Let me get DeeDee. I’ll be right back.”

  I left them in the driveway as I hurried to get the dog. We returned moments later. It was a momentous occasion that required squealing screams of delight as all three girls smothered the mutt with hugs and kisses.

  DeeDee grinned happily beneath the attention.

  “What are the rules?” I asked, once everyone had calmed down.

  “No running. No shoving. No crossing the street without holding hands,” the three girls recited in unison.

  “Okay, let’s go.” The four of us headed down the sidewalk, all three kids chattering at once. I heard something about spelling tests, ice cream, backpacks, homework, and glue, but couldn’t make much sense of the conversation.

  DeeDee happily led the way, dragging me along, causing the kids to occasionally sprint in order to keep up. They were giggling so much that I barely heard Mike’s warning.

  “You’ve got a tail and not the animal kind,” the bird crowed.

  Looking around, I spotted the silver sedan following us from a discreet distance. A wave of panic washed over me as I realized that I was powerless to protect the children and there was no nearby place to hide. I felt like an ill-prepared idiot for leaving the gun Patrick Mulligan had provided tucked beneath the kitty kibble.

  I yanked hard on DeeDee’s leash, forcing her to slow down so that our little scrum of bodies naturally tightened. “We need to stay together,” I told the dog.

  From the way her ears flattened, I knew she’d heard the worry in my voice.

  “Protect?” she barked.

  “Be vigilant.”

  “What does bigilant mean, Aunt Maggie?” Katie asked.

  “Vigilant. It means be aware of your surroundings.”

  “Like in I-Spy?”

  “Exactly.” I glanced around again, trying to get a glimpse of the car’s license plate, but I couldn’t turn far enough to see it clearly without letting the driver know I was onto him.

  “I spy something yellow,” Katie yelled, pointing to the double yellow lines painted in the street.

  We all pointed at the street lines.

  “I spy something blue!” the twins shouted in unison pointing to a car speeding past.

  We all pointed at the car.

  I slowly spun in a circle, giving myself enough time to note the sedan’s license plate. “I spy something red,” I said, pointing to a far away street sign.

  All four of us pointed at the street sign.

  While the kids continued their game, and DeeDee remained vigilant, her head twisting from side-to-side like she was watching a Wimbledon match, I texted the license plate number to Patrick, asking, “Who is this?”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The rest of the walk to school was stressful, but the fact that Mike told me I could count on him “to be the eyes in the back of your head” made it bearable. I waited for all three girls to get inside the building before I slowly turned to see if the sedan was still around.

  It was.

  Mike perched on the roof of a nearby SUV, keeping his word of keeping an eye on whoever was following me.

  “Now Maggie what?” DeeDee asked.

  I hesitated a moment, weighing my options. “We’ll confront them. I’ve got too much to do today between visiting Mom, and going after Beader, and figuring out the Malleti thing. I don’t have time for games.”

  I tugged on the dog’s leash and we marched toward the sedan with a sense of purpose, and righteousness, and more than a little foolishness. I put on a tough game face and glared at the driver’s window as we approached, despite the fact I couldn’t actually see the driver.

  “Vigilant. Vigilant,” DeeDee panted under her breath.

  “Are you sure this is the way to handle things?” Mike asked, fluttering by nervously.

  “I’m a woman on a mission.”

  “You are one crazy broad,” the bird marveled.

  Reaching the car, I rapped sharply against the window three times, the impact stinging my knuckles.

  Slowly the window lowered.

  DeeDee growled, “Vigilant.”

  “Good job spotting the tail, Mags,” a voice said as the glass slid down.

  I frowned at the redhead sitting behind the steering wheel.

  “Patrick!” DeeDee barked excitedly, jumping up and sticking her head in the car to greet him.

  “Guess all that training we did paid off.” Patrick’s smirk brimmed with self-satisfaction as he distractedly pet the dog.

  I didn’t tell him that his tra
ining hadn’t done me any good. That, in reality, it had been a literal bird brain that had spotted him. Instead, I asked, “Why were you following me?”

  “Kind of funny that you asked me my own license plate number.”

  I gave him a hard look, silently demanding an answer to my question.

  He shook his head. “I thought you might like some breakfast.”

  “Hungry! Hungry!” DeeDee whined as though she hadn’t just been fed an hour earlier.

  “Come on in.” Patrick tilted his head in the direction of the passenger door. “I’ve got plenty for both of you.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I could tell from the way his eyes narrowed that the coldness of my tone caught him off guard, but I was pretty miffed that I’d spent the entire walk to school worried about the safety of my nieces.

  “Please, please,” DeeDee whined.

  “She’s hungry,” Patrick pointed out.

  “She ate.”

  Spinning on my heel, I turned to walk back to the B&B, but the dog didn’t budge. Frowning, I looked back at her. “Come on. We’re going home.”

  “No. Eat.”

  “I’ll feed you at home,” I promised, tugging on her leash.

  “Hungry,” she repeated.

  “Come on, Mags,” Patrick cajoled. “I’ve got more than a donut for you.”

  DeeDee sniffed the air. “Eggs. Eggs love I.”

  “People are starting to stare,” Mike warned from atop the SUV.

  Glancing around, I realized that he was right. Teachers and parents were all watching my exchange with the sedan’s driver with curiosity.

  I sighed my surrender, walked around the corner, let the Doberman into the back, and practically threw myself into the front passenger seat. “Happy?”

  Patrick’s response was to hand me a cup of coffee and to start unwrapping a sandwich, crinkling the aluminum foil in the process. “Do you like Taylor ham?”

  “What born and raised Jersey girl doesn’t like Taylor ham?”

  “The ones from south Jersey. They eat pork roll.” He tossed half the sandwich to DeeDee, who caught it midair and gobbled it greedily. Patrick placed the rest of the semi-wrapped food on the dash.

  “It’s the same exact thing.”

  “You say potato…they say pork roll.” He handed me a sandwich. “Enjoy.”

  I unwrapped the still warm sandwich and plucked off a piece of roll. Lowering the window, I tossed it out for Mike.

  Patrick watched me carefully, unsure of what I was doing.

  Considering he’d given me quite the scare, I wasn’t inclined to tell him. Chewing that magically delicious combination of scrambled egg, American cheese, and unidentifiable salty pork breakfast meat piled onto a roll greatly reduced my hostility toward the man who’d provided the feast. I had to admit that it was way more satisfying than the slice of cold pizza I’d shared with the mouse and crow.

  “So your mom’s back safe.” He bit into his own sandwich, which suspiciously seemed to contain vegetables.

  “Yes. I’m going to see her after this.”

  He nodded. “Any idea of what happened to her?”

  Not wanting to have to lie to him, I took a big bite of sandwich and made a show of slowly chewing it.

  “Because I heard a rumor.” He took a swig of coffee. “Might have to do with someone your father screwed over a long time ago.”

  “Might,” I agreed noncommittally.

  “Might also be a case that that U.S. Marshal who lives with you might take a particular interest in.”

  “Might, but luckily he’s out of town right now.”

  “But his nephew isn’t.” There was no missing the warning in his voice. “You really don’t need a police detective nosing around.”

  “Says a police detective,” I countered lightly.

  “I’m not nosing.” He tore the other half of DeeDee’s sandwich on the dashboard into a few smaller pieces and tossed her one.

  “But you keep showing up.”

  “I’m concerned.”

  “I’d never rat you out,” I pledged.

  He twisted in his seat to look at me straight on. My throat constricted as he trapped mine in his green gaze.

  His voice pitched low as he said, “Do you really think I’m worried you’d betray me, Mags? Do you not understand that I’m genuinely worried about your safety and well-being?”

  Swallowing hard, I reminded myself not to swoon. There was a reason I’d once been head-over-heels for this man, and the way he made me feel like the only person on Earth was a big part of that.

  Thankfully, DeeDee chose that moment to stick her head between us so that she could eye the remaining sandwich.

  Patrick chuckled and reached for another bite for her while I sipped my coffee, waiting for my heartbeat to return to its previously scheduled programming.

  “Just keep your wits about you and call me if you need back-up,” Patrick urged.

  “I will. I’m putting my plan to take down Beader into play today,” I confided.

  “Good luck.” He gave the remainder of the sandwich to the dog. “You want a ride home?”

  “No. We’ll walk.” Carefully balancing the rest of my sandwich on top of the cup of coffee, I reached for my door handle.

  “I’m sorry I made you nervous,” the redhead apologized.

  I glanced back at him, noting the worry lines creasing his forehead. “No harm done.”

  “But I’m glad you’re aware of what’s going on around you.”

  “Vigilant!” DeeDee barked.

  Patrick chuckled. “And obviously DeeDee here has your back.” He gave the dog an affectionate pat.

  “Front and!” the dog told him.

  “Just don’t let up,” Patrick warned. “Malleti could cause a lot of trouble for you, either directly or with the Griswald family.”

  “Trouble is my middle name,” I quipped.

  “I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  I ate the rest of the breakfast sandwich on the way home, except for the last bite that I gave to the dog. Had to keep my front-and-back bodyguard nourished.

  Leaving her to nap in the basement, I picked up God and Aunt Leslie to take to the mental facility. Looking at the basket of multi-colored crocheted balls Leslie carried, I wondered what the possibility of her becoming Mom’s roommate would be.

  After we got through security at the front desk, Leslie, carrying her basket, like freaking Little Red Riding Hood, skipped down the hall to her sister’s room. Meanwhile, I had to deal with a hospital administrator whose name I didn’t catch.

  She scowled at me from behind a desk covered with files. I tried not to squirm in the uncomfortable chair she’d made me sit in.

  “She’s one of our most problematic patients,” the woman, who looked like she’d bitten into one of Petra’s most sour pickles, lectured. “All of these unauthorized field trips.”

  “Field trips?” God mocked from his hiding place in my bra. “Is she going to see the Statue of Liberty?”

  The woman’s eyes widened at the squeaking noise. “What’s that?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, keeping my expression blank.

  “I heard squeaking.”

  “I don’t squeak!” God raged.

  In a neutral tone, I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t hear anything.”

  Mercifully, the lizard remained silent.

  The administrator scowled. “If it happens again, we’re going to have to request that she be moved to a more secure facility.”

  I remembered my pledge to Aunt Susan about holding down the fort. Allowing her sister to be removed from this institution would no doubt constitute a major failure on my part. I probably should have responded in a deferential way, instead, my sarcasm gene came out in full force. “When what happens again? When you hear a non-existent squeak?”

  I paused, knowing full well that God would voi
ce his outrage.

  “For the last time, I don’t squeak!”

  I stared the administrator down, giving no indication that I was aware that strange noises were being emitted from my chest area. “Or when your incompetent staff loses track of a resident that they’re responsible for the safety of.”

  She flinched at that. “I assure you—”

  I stood up, effectively cutting her off. “Save your assurances and do your damn job.” I stalked out without so much as a backward glance.

  “Well played, my dear,” God approved.

  “Thanks. Now, please shut up,” I muttered under my breath, as a passing nurse looked around for the source of the squeaking noise.

  We made it to Mom’s room without further incident and found Leslie demonstrating for her sister how to hurl the yarn balls into the wall.

  A blue one rolled into my path. I bent over to pick it up. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hello, Maggie.”

  I looked up, surprised that she knew me.

  She smiled beatifically at me and my heart squeezed with the pain of knowing full well that the next time I visited she might not recognize me.

  Leslie tossed another ball that sailed through the doorway into the hall. She gave chase, leaving me alone with my mother.

  “You shouldn’t always pull your hair back,” she said, crossing the room to tug at my ponytail.

  “I was in a rush and it was wet,” I explained.

  She gently removed the band and shook out my hair, taking care to frame my face.

  I blinked back tears, overcome with the loving act.

  “You’re not here for a hair consultation,” God reminded me on a whisper.

  Knowing he was right, I swallowed hard and forced myself to say, “I heard you had a busy night.”

  Mom giggled, a girlish, tinkling noise that could soften even the hardest of hearts. “We went for a ride. I thought I saw you.”

  “You did,” I quickly confirmed, needing to keep her rooted in reality. “Did Malleti threaten you?”

  “Oh no, sweetheart. He was lovely. Just lovely.”

  “A lovely abductor,” God muttered.

  “Jimmy’s an old friend,” Mom explained. “We were just catching up. He wants me to tell your father that he’s forgiven him. He found the Lord in prison.”