The Hitwoman in a Pickle (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 18)
Page 15
“You may not need one,” he replied cryptically.
I frowned, wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean. I closed the car door, rapped twice on the office entrance, and let myself in.
Delveccio was behind the desk.
But he wasn’t alone.
The man sitting opposite him turned to give me a once over.
I tried to hide my shock that Patrick Mulligan was there. After all, while it was Delveccio who had originally paired me with my murder mentor, we’d never had a three-way meeting like this.
I couldn’t read Patrick’s expression as he looked me over, but I was aware that his green eyes seemed duller than usual…almost pickle-ish in color. Something was definitely wrong.
“Sit down.” Delveccio pointed at the seat beside Patrick.
I slid into it obediently, trying to ignore the way my stomach was doing a series of nervous somersaults.
The mobster squinted at me. “You look rough. Beader did that?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“But you didn’t whack him?”
I shook my head.
Delveccio scowled. “If you didn’t, and he didn’t,” he pointed to Patrick, “and none of my guys did it, who the hell did?”
I shrugged.
Delveccio drummed on the desk with his thumbs. “You’re usually a lot more loquacious. What are you hiding?”
“I couldn’t see.” I pointed to my still-red eyes for emphasis. I trailed off nervously and looked down at my hands, which were clasped in my lap like I was some innocent schoolgirl. I could feel both Delveccio and Patrick staring at me. Waiting. “Maybe it was whoever was using his…disposal services?”
Delveccio shrugged. “That’d make sense. Didn’t want him rolling on them.”
I took that to mean that this particular mob boss hadn’t had his enemies’ body parts folded into soft serve and shipped out of state.
“We got another problem,” the mob boss said. “Specifically, you got a problem.”
I looked up nervously.
“There’s a guy back in town who was away.”
“Malleti,” I guessed.
Delveccio narrowed his eyes and nodded.
“Who?” Patrick asked.
“Jimmy Malleti,” Delveccio explained. “Before your time. He had a beef with Archie.” He jerked his chin in my direction as he said my father’s name. “He might be trouble.”
I nodded slowly.
“But you already know that,” Delveccio said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have known his name.”
“He paid my mother a visit,” I said carefully.
Delveccio frowned. “Trying to flush Archie out from whatever rock he’s hiding under?”
“That’d be my guess.”
“Did it work?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know.”
I sensed Patrick watching me carefully. I knew that he knew that I knew more than I was telling the mob boss.
“Trouble.” The mobster steepled his fingers under his chin. The light reflecting off his massive pinky ring damn near blinded me. “I could take care of Malleti, but that’s really not a precedent I want to set.”
“Do you think your family is in danger?” Patrick asked quietly.
I shrugged. “Don’t know. According to my mother, Malleti has forgiven my dad.”
Delveccio snorted his disbelief.
“He didn’t hurt her, when he had the chance,” I continued. “So maybe his grudge is only with my father.”
Delveccio grunted. “Maybe. He’s from a time when men settled business between themselves. None of this collateral damage involving women and kids.”
“If that’s the case, let them deal with it,” I suggested matter-of-factly.
I sensed Patrick tense as I basically stated my intention to let the cards fall where they may. I made sure not to look at him.
“Okay,” Delveccio agreed. “That’s what we’ll do for now. If things change, let me know.”
I wordlessly nodded my agreement.
“Now, go home and get some beauty sleep,” the mobster chided gently. “You need it.”
I chuckled and got to my feet.
Walking out of the office, I sensed Patrick following, but I didn’t turn to face him until we were outside.
“I’ll give you a ride home.” It wasn’t so much an offer, as an order. Something in his tone made me think it wasn’t going to be the most pleasant trip.
I saw no point in resisting, though, so I followed him to a nearby SUV. I almost laughed when he opened the vehicle’s door for me like we were on a date instead of leaving a mobster’s lair.
The second both our doors were closed, he turned to me and asked, “Was it your friend from the park that killed Beader”
“No.”
Patrick frowned and cupped my face in his hands. “Are you sure? You couldn’t see.”
“I’m sure.”
He stared into my eyes, trying to read whether or not I was telling the truth.
I stared back, trying to get him to believe me. I knew it wasn’t Ian who’d killed Beader since the animals hadn’t recognized the killer.
Satisfied, Patrick released me, sat back, and turned on the motor. Mercifully, he drove me home in silence, only admonishing me with, “Be careful, Mags” as he dropped me off.
Since it was late, I tiptoed from his vehicle, through the backyard of the B&B, and crept through the storm cellar doors into the basement, thereby avoiding any and all relatives.
But I couldn’t avoid my pets.
“It’s about time,” God groused as I walked down the stairs.
“Are you okay, sugar?” Piss asked.
“Hungry,” DeeDee whined.
“Maggie. Maggie. Maggie,” Benny squeaked.
The cacophony of the creatures made it feel like I was walking into bedlam.
But it was home.
THE END
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Other Books by JB Lynn
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HITWOMAN BOOKS
in order
Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
The Hitwoman Gets Lucky
The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels
The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness
The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost
The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops
The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple
The Hitwoman’s Downward Dog
The Hitwoman’s Act of Contrition
The Hitwoman Hires a Manny
The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb
The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub
The Hitwoman and the Mother Load
The Hitwoman Under Pressure
The Hitwoman Plays Chaperone
The Hitwoman Takes a Road Trip
THE MATCHMAKER MYSTERY SERIES
The Mutt and the Matchmaker
A Match Made in Mystery
Catnapped!
A Woof in Sheep’s Clothing
Also by JB Lynn
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
The First Victim
Until Proven Innocent
About JB Lynn
A Jersey Girl transplanted to the Sunshine State, JB (you can call her Jen) writes laugh-out-loud suspense and mysteries with a dash
of romance, but she’s been known to dabble in the occasional goosebump-raising thriller.
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