by Lynn, JB
“Oh, is that where he’s been hiding?” God mocked.
“Forgiven him?” I repeated.
“Your father is a wonderful man, but even he isn’t perfect.”
“I’ve noticed,” I replied dryly.
God chuckled.
“He’s committed past transgressions,” Mom continued blithely. “But Jimmy has forgiven him. He’s such a good man.”
“He kidnapped you,” I reminded her.
“He took me for a ride,” she countered gently. “Two old friends enjoying a spin through the night air.”
“Maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome,” God interjected. “Malleti brainwashed her while she was his prisoner.”
“He wants me to give Archie…” Mom turned away and trailed off.
“Give Archie what?” I prompted.
She dropped to her knees and pulled out a box from beneath the bed. I recognized the box, it held all her treasures, her secrets. Reaching in, she pulled out an oversized gold coin, then got to her feet and offered it to me.
I took it carefully and examined it closely. It was either really old or produced to look old, complete with dents, dings, and wording on the bottom that was almost too worn out to see.
“Can you give it to him?” she asked.
“To Dad?”
She dipped her chin. “Not to Thurston, but to your father. Can you tell them apart?”
“Sure.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.” One has a full-on Santa beard and one does not. It’s not exactly a subtle difference.
“Then give it to your father.” She curled my fingers around the coin, forcing me to hold it tighter. “He’ll understand.”
All I understood was that this coin probably meant even more trouble for my family. My dad and any form of currency usually did not mix well. “What will Dad understand?”
“What it means.”
“What does it mean?” I asked curiously. Knowing how adept my father was at making enemies, I figured it was some sort of ploy to lure him out of hiding so that Malleti could get his vengeance…or whatever professional criminals were calling it these days.
“He’ll know.” She smiled at me again and patted my cheek. “You’re a good girl, Maggie. Susan always said you were the best of the bunch.”
I eyed her suspiciously, wondering if the delusions had crept in without my noticing. If that was the case, then the coin wouldn’t be from Malleti and there was no reason for me to try to deliver it to my father. “I don’t think Aunt Susan would ever say that.”
“Say what?” a red-faced Leslie, clutching a trio of lumpy, misshapen balls to her chest asked, stumbling back into the room.
“That Maggie’s the best of the bunch.”
Leslie nodded. “Always. Maggie’s the best of the bunch.”
I looked from one woman to the other, trying to decide whether to believe the recollection accuracy of a mental patient and a woman who’d done more than her fair share of drugs over the years.
“I’m tired,” Mom announced. “I’d like to take a nap now.”
“Okay, we’ll go.” Leslie refilled the basket of balls. “I’ll leave this for you in case you decide you want to try it.”
Mom shot me a look expressing how little interest she had in chucking yarn at walls, but murmured, “Thank you, Leslie.”
They hugged goodbye and Leslie strolled out of the room.
I was surprised when Mom grabbed me in a tight bear hug.
So was God. “Sensitive skin. You’re crushing me.”
Mom ignored the squeaking. “You’re a good girl, Maggie. Give your father the coin.”
“I will.” Immediately, I regretted letting the words pass my lips. Making any promises that involved my dad ended up with problems for me.
“Bad call,” God said, confirming my poor choice.
Mom kissed both my cheeks. “Next time, you’ll bring Katie?”
“If I can,” I hedged, having already made one pledge I was doubtful of keeping.
“It’s not contagious.”
“What?” I asked, glancing down at the coin in my hand, wondering if it was laden with some kind of germy bugs.
“It’s hereditary, not contagious. You’re not the only one who’s got it.” Mom gave me a knowing smile as she walked me to the doorway.
“Got what?”
“Ask the one with sensitive skin.” She winked as she gently pushed me out of her room and closed the door.
I stood there dumbfounded, unable to move, unable to think.
“Did she just say what I think she just said?” the lizard asked incredulously.
“She heard you,” I whispered back.
“My stars. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“And she knows I can hear you,” I realized aloud.
“What did she mean, it’s hereditary? Does she think Katie can talk to animals, because she can’t, I’d know,” the lizard asserted. “She categorically does not understand me.”
“I categorically don’t understand anything,” I muttered.
“Ready?” Leslie asked from behind me.
“For what?” I asked nervously.
Chapter Twenty-four
I brought Leslie and God back to the B&B, let the dog out in the yard for a couple of minutes, got my gun, and headed to the ice cream shop with Benny. Piss insisted on coming along, just like she insisted on coaching him for the entire ride.
“Now, don’t be a hero,” she lectured. “You don’t think twice about running and hiding. And whatever you do, don’t eat or drink anything. Not one drop. Not one morsel.”
“Why? Why? Why?” the mouse asked plaintively.
“They could be trying to poison you, Benny. Or if not you, other mice. Or there could be traps.”
I could feel the mouse, perched on my shoulder, start to tremble.
“Stop it. You’re scaring him,” I told the cat.
“He should be scared. This is serious business. Deadly stuff.”
“Deadly? Deadly? Deadly?” he whispered, clearly terrified.
“You’ll be fine, Benny,” I reassured him. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
“Plus, you’ll have me right there,” Piss purred.
“You can’t go into the ice cream shop,” I warned. “You’ll be noticed and they’ll chase you out. Or worse, they’ll call Animal Control.”
“Sugar,” she drawled, “I am not afraid of Animal Control. Besides, I’m going to stay in the alley behind the shop. That way, if Benny needs to beat a hasty retreat, I’ll be there to protect him.”
“I don’t even know if there’s an alley there.”
“There is.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Sure I can. Mike scoped it out while you were sitting outside watching Beader.”
I squeezed the steering wheel. “Are you telling me that he spied on me?”
“He kept an eye on you. He’s a good guy. A little rough around the edges and he sounds like a gangster, but he’s decent enough.”
I glanced at the cat sprawled out on the passenger seat. “That’s high praise coming from you.”
She licked her paw. “I’m an excellent judge of character.”
“Excellent. Excellent. Excellent,” Benny confirmed from my shoulder.
Arriving at the ice cream shop, I carefully placed Benny in the pocket of my jacket before letting Piss out of the car. She took off like a shot, zipping around a corner before I’d even gotten out and closed the door.
“Thank you for doing this, Benny,” I said as I walked toward the entrance. “You’re being very brave.”
“Brave. Brave. Brave,” he chanted.
I opened the door and tried to swallow the nausea that rose in me as I saw Kevin Beader handing a little girl about Katie’s age a flower-topped pen. The kid’s mom, sitting right there at the table, didn’t seem to notice the exchange since she was intimately engaged with her smartphone.
I made my way
toward the restrooms, which were in a narrow hallway off the dining area. A door at the end of the hall was marked Office, but I didn’t want to attract attention by heading toward it. I ducked into the ladies’ room, made sure that no one else was in there, and then gently scooped Benny out of my pocket and placed him on the floor.
He sniffed the air, whiskers twitching. He listened to the sounds, ears standing at attention.
I gave him a couple moments to acclimate to all the new stimuli before I asked, “Ready?”
“Ready. Ready. Ready.”
“I’ll be back at the end of the night,” I reminded him. “And Piss is right, don’t eat or drink anything.”
With that, I pushed the ladies’ room door open, let him run out ahead of me, and I stepped back into the hall. I took a moment to ostensibly peruse a bulletin board of community event fliers while watching the white ball of fluff scurry down the hall and disappear under the office door.
Seeing how easily that was accomplished, I had a sense of hope that this crazy scheme could actually succeed.
“World’s Best Aunt,” Kevin Beader said, stepping up to the bulletin board. “And where’s your beautiful niece?”
I grit my teeth as bile rose in my throat. I forced myself to sound pleasant. “Home sick. I thought a milkshake might make her feel better.”
“Milkshakes make everything better. Well, everything except for the size of my waistline.” He patted his belly for emphasis.
I somehow managed to come up with a polite chuckle, even though the weight of the gun jammed in my waistband reminded me that I could end this act at any moment.
“I hope the shake helps and that she feels better. Bring her back in soon.” With that, Beader headed toward his office.
“Wait,” I called out, panicked that he’d discover Benny snooping. Not that he’d even know if a mouse was snooping, but I didn’t want the little guy getting caught.
Beader turned and looked at me inquiringly.
“Do you host birthday parties here?” I asked, hoping to engage him in conversation and give the mouse some extra time.
“Yes,” Beader replied with a smile.
“I mean, kids parties. Parties for kids,” I babbled.
He nodded calmly. “Parties for kids of all ages. We set up an ice cream bar, have balloons, supply gift bags. We even bring in pizza.”
“Oh that’s awesome,” I said weakly, stumped as to what else I could possibly ask him.
“Ask the girl at the counter to give you a brochure.” He turned back toward his office.
“Mr. Beader?” I called a tad too loudly because I wanted the mouse to hear me.
He stopped and looked at me over his shoulder. “No one over the age of ten calls me that. Call me Kevin.”
“Kevin,” I repeated, even though doing so triggered my gag reflex. “Thank you for your help.”
“I’m in the service industry,” he replied with a creepy smile and reached for his office door.
I made a show of studying the bulletin board for a couple of minutes longer, waiting to see if I could hear if he’d spotted the mouse. When nothing unusual happened, I walked out, bought a shake, and retreated to my car just as my phone started to buzz with the number I now recognized as Ian’s.
“Hey.” I slid behind the steering wheel and placed the shake in a cup holder.
“How’s she doing?”
“Mom? She’s fine. Better than usual, actually. Quite lucid.”
“Uh…I guess that’s good,” Ian replied awkwardly.
“Of course it’s good. It’s better than her assaulting me or being nearly catatonic.”
“She assaulted you?”
I tapped my foot impatiently. “Just once. Look, were you calling for a specific reason?”
“Uncle Thurston’s asking to see you.”
“Do you know why?”
“No. He wants you to meet him at the zoo in an hour. Near the gorilla enclosure. Do you know where that is?”
“Too well,” I confessed.
“Can you do it?”
“Yeah,” I said, my curiosity piqued. “I’ll meet him.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to be there?”
“No. I have something else to do.”
Something in his tone made me suspicious. “What?”
“It’s personal.”
“We’re family,” I reminded him.
There was silence on the other end of the conversation. I waited, but he didn’t say anything.
Finally, I said, “I’ll see Thurston in an hour.”
Ian’s only response was to end the call.
I hoped that this visit to the zoo wouldn’t land me in even deeper trash.
Chapter Twenty-five
I considered going home to get God but decided against it since it would have meant a long sorrowful conversation with DeeDee about why she couldn’t come along.
I went straight to the zoo and wandered around, eavesdropping on the conversations of both the humans and animals. The smelly yak had the equivalent of a stand-up comedy routine going about eating straw hats that had the camels braying in gales of helpless laughter. I guess maybe you have to be four-legged to really appreciate that kind of humor.
Eventually, I made my way to the gorilla habitat.
The young female, Cleo, noticed my presence first.
“She’s back,” Cleo called excitedly. “The talking human is back.”
The young male made an aggressive huffing noise in my general direction, then turned around and lumbered away, climbing to the second story of the enclosure.
“Hello, talking human.” Cleo waved at me excitedly.
I waved back.
Some zoo-goers oohed and aahed over the exchange and began frantically waving at her, hoping she’d respond in kind.
“Humans see, humans do,” the older female muttered, slowly walking over to where she could get a good look at me. “You’ve returned.”
“Yes. My uncle, the one you cared for, will be here soon.”
“The man who fell in?” a male spectator asked.
I nodded.
“Such scary mindless beasts. It’s amazing they didn’t kill him.”
“I feel the same way about a lot of people I meet,” I told him with an obviously fake smile.
Frowning, he hustled away, muttering something about, “Just making conversation.”
“Can the uncle talk, too?” the old gorilla wanted to know.
I shook my head no.
“He’s coming,” the young male announced, pointing off into the distance.
“What kind of treats do you like?” I asked quickly. “I’d like to bring you a thank you gift for all your help.”
Before they could answer, a pair of over-eager vacationers planted themselves between us, snapping pictures and discussing whether they needed to make dinner reservations.
Thurston stepped up behind me. “I heard Mary is well.”
“Yes. Thank you for following that car last night.”
“I didn’t do anything besides follow. Malleti brought her back to the institution of his own accord. She seemed unharmed.”
“She’s fine,” I assured him. “Why did you want to see me?”
He glanced around to ascertain that no one was listening in on our conversation. “Santa Claus is coming to town.”
Considering that both he and his twin, my dad, look like Santa, I assumed that meant Archie was on his way back to town. The knowledge filled me with dread. “Why?”
“He wants to make things right with Jimmy,” Thurston explained.
“Every time he tries to make things right, things go horribly wrong,” I groaned.
“I’ve heard you’re close to Delveccio…” he began slowly.
I gave him the side eye. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Everyone knows that you saved his grandson’s life.”
I nodded slowly. That story about how I’d fought to save a comatose Do
minic was indeed public knowledge. The part about my whole “Stop, Drop and Roll” was the embarrassing detail only Detective Patrick Mulligan knew about.
“Maybe he could help with Malleti?” Thurston suggested.
I frowned. There was no way I’d ask Delveccio for help. Things were dicey enough for me, what with dating his nephew and all.
“I mean, he must feel like he owes you a debt,” Thurston continued.
I mustered my most outraged voice. “Unlike my father, I don’t engage in criminal activities.”
Sure, that was a lie. Ever since the car accident, I’ve committed illegal acts on a pretty regular basis, but my uncle didn’t need to know that. No one did. I needed to convince the world that I’m a law-abiding citizen. So I laid it on thick. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that I’d do such a thing. I’m worried about my mother and I’m concerned about what stupid thing my father will do next, but I’m not asking a mobster for help.”
Thurston flinched.
Needing to change the subject, I pointed at the enclosure. “Why did Malleti throw you in there?”
“Hi, talking human!” Cleo called again, waving excitedly.
I waved back.
“I told you,” Thurston said. “We had a disagreement that got out of hand.”
“You could have died.”
“We should have killed him!” the male gorilla bellowed.
Thurston eyed the enclosure nervously, spooked by the loud animal.
“You should thank them for taking such good care of you,” I suggested.
He raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“The gorillas took care of you. You should thank them,” I repeated.
“Yes, you ungrateful beast!” The male gorilla pounded his chest for emphasis.
The zoo-goers gasped at his antics.
I couldn’t tell if they were impressed or afraid.
Thurston patted my shoulder. “I know you’ve been under a lot of stress. Maybe—”
I gave him an ice-cold glare that froze his next words. “I’m not crazy.”
“Of course not. Of course not.” His eyes were round with worry.
“Just say thank you,” I ordered.
He looked from me, to the enclosure, and back to me. “Thank you?”
