3 The Housewife Assassin's Killer Christmas Tips

by Josie Brown

  “Yeah, I saw the way ‘the Quorum’ was all over you.”

  “The Quorum?” Miles shrieks. “You know about the Quorum? How—?”

  “Not you, dork. I mean Miles. I mean slave!” I slap his ass extra hard this time.

  As if that will make him forget what he just heard.

  “I think you need to untie me!” he whines. “Big boys don’t cry! Big boys don’t—”

  Before he can say another word, I take a gag and stick it in his mouth, and zip up the eye flips of his hood.

  Now that he can’t actually see what I’m doing, I search frantically for the MANPAD. It’s not under the bed, or in any of the large, body-sized pull-out drawers, which, by the way, also have shackles embedded in them. Well, well, well, it seems that someone’s got an Eddie Munster complex . . .

  “Donna, they’re going to be there any minute. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

  “What do you suggest I do, smart ass?”

  “Your magic decoder ring. Remember?”

  Duh.

  “As if reading my mind, Jack laughs. “Listen for my knock. I’ll be there as soon as I can get away.”

  “As soon as you can ‘get away?’ From whom?”

  He signs off with a click. I guess it isn’t something he wants to answer.

  I twist open my ring holding the SP-117 truth serum, and put my fisted hand into his mouth. “Lick my ring, Slave. Suck it! Go ahead!”

  Instinctively, he tries to raise his head to look at me, but the rod holding his neck shackle keeps him drawn to my knuckles.

  I slap his face so that he figures out fast that this isn’t any game.

  He sucks it hungrily.

  Within a moment he’s told me what I need to know: that the MANPAD is hidden in a second super-secret dungeon, behind the Wall of Shame. To open it, I have to push a button under the third dildo on the left.

  Done. Yuck.

  Now that I’ve opened the case holding the MANPAD, which is, quite simply, a shoulder-fired heat-seeking missile encased in a metal tube. It’s about four feet wide and six and a half feet long, but no more than three inches in diameter.

  The case also holds a gripstop (the missile launcher) and a battery pack.

  The whole kit and caboodle weighs a little more than Trisha, maybe just over forty-five pounds.

  Just as I reach the door with it, I hear the rap of knuckles on it to the sound of Shave and a Haircut.

  Jack has quite a sense of humor.

  We’ll see who’s laughing after I give him the third degree about Valentina.

  I struggle to unlock it without putting down the MANPAD case. Flinging it open, I mutter, “’Bout damn time—”

  To Carl.

  In no time at all he’s grabbed the case out of my hand and slapped me to the floor.

  As I stagger to my feet, he yanks my arms behind my back. Looking around, he gives a low whistle. “Quite a little set-up old Miles has here! This would have made quite bonus room addition to the old homestead, don’t you think?”

  My answer is to spit on his cheek.

  “Naughty, naughty girl.” He jerks me over toward Miles’ Wall of Shame. “Wow. I feel like a kid in a candy shop.” He picks up a studded dildo and tickles my nose with it.

  I jerk my head away.

  He shrugs. “After Jack, I thought you’d welcome something super-sized.”

  “Oh yeah? Trust me, that’s never been his problem. In fact, you’re not half the man he is, Carl Stone.”

  Carl raises his hand to slap me—

  Then he thinks better of the idea and lowers it.

  Instead, he jerks me into the mansized birdcage and tethers my wrists to the bars. No matter how much I struggle, he’s too strong for me. Although I’m looking face out, I get in one good kick to his side before he grabs hold of one leg and shackles my ankle. By the time he’s bound the other, I’m spread-eagled.

  He rips the back slit in my gown all the way up, until my whole backside is exposed. He lets his fingers do the walking down my spine. Despite my resolve, I tremble at his touch. When he gets to my ass, he spreads my cheeks, and I gasp.

  “Carl . . . Don’t.”

  It seems like an eternity before he murmurs, “You know you want it.”

  I close my eyes. All of a sudden, my head feels too heavy. I lean it against the steel bars. “No. Not like this.” I raise my head, and turn it toward him, but he is purposely standing out of my range of vision. Still I say, “You don’t want it like this, either. You were never a—a rapist.”

  His lips kiss the small of my back, my shoulder blades, the back of my neck, an earlobe, and then he whispers, “How do you know what I was, or wasn’t?”

  He’s right. I never really knew him.

  I brace for the worst, the eleven-inch dildo . . .

  What I get instead is nothing more than a gentle pat on my ass.

  The sound of his footsteps stop when he reaches Miles, still blissfully unaware in the stockade.

  But not for long. The gag I placed in Miles’ mouth smothers his piercing scream as Carl thrusts the dildo into him. Miles gasps and chokes on the gag. He can’t stop. We hear him regurgitating his own bile.

  His death rattle sends a shiver up my spine.

  “My God, Carl! Why did you do that?”

  “To prove my point.” He chuckles. “And because it’s time to kill the competition. Lardner fucked up royally, letting you get this close to the MANPAD.”

  So, Carl is also in the running for the Quorum 13 opening? Figures. And now he’s let Miles drown in his own vomit.

  Carl gives a small grunt as grabs the MANPAD. But instead of heading to the door, he walks out onto the balcony. I know why, when I hear the helicopter landing.

  “Next time, babe. I promise.” He shouts. “And I’ll make it worth your while.”

  I shake my head as best as I can. “There will never ever be a next time—”

  But he can’t hear me over the thwacking blades of the chopper.

  By the time Jack gets to Miles’ suite, our host is dead and my limbs are sore.

  “What the hell happened?” he asks, as he unshackles me.

  “The Calvary was late. Carl got here first. So tell me, what took you so long? Never mind, don’t answer that. I can smell her on you. Valentina.”

  He doesn’t say anything as he tosses off my last shackle.

  “What? Are you going to lie to me, and tell me you weren’t with her all this time?”

  He opens his mouth, but what comes out isn’t what I want to hear. It’s not a firm, angry, and hurt declaration that nothing happened. Instead, he says, “It’s . . . complicated. Later, okay? Abu is waiting for us.”

  We lock the suite behind us, and head for the lowest deck.

  My naked backside draws no raised eyebrows, only admiring Pippa-worthy glances. I’m handed invitation cards bearing the aliases of the rich and perverted.

  Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll happily pass on the honor of beating them silly.

  I need to get back to Planet Sane.

  I need kids and dogs and carpools, and a man I can love and trust.

  I guess that’s not Jack after all.

  And okay, I admit it. I really need Christmas.

  Chapter 12

  Boughs of Holly

  The tradition of decorating with holly was used in the pagan celebration of the Winter Solstice. Its symbolism was new growth.

  Holly was thought to be a “male plant” (Um, “prick”…Get it?) whereas ivy was thought to be female. During Solstice, should one be brought into the home before the other, it would dictate who ruled the roost that year.

  Quaint, ain’t it?

  At the same time, holly was thought to ward off evil spirits. Used properly, this is more than a myth. It’s a fact. Should something evil come your way, smacking it in the eyes with holly will make it howl in pain and run away.

  So will buckshot, but there’s no symbolism in that. Still, there is alw
ays room for new traditions.

  Despite its halls being all decked out in boughs of holly, you’d think Acme was a funeral home, what with all the long faces.

  This is to be expected, now that it’s been confirmed Carl has the MANPAD.

  Despite the efforts of two crackerjack Acme assassins.

  Jack and I are sitting in the two chairs opposite Ryan’s desk. Don’t’ ask me why, since he’s been pacing the floor of his office, like a lion who hasn’t been fed in days.

  He’ll be chewing and spitting out one of us, that’s for sure.

  I don’t plan on it being me.

  I’m not the one who chose to sleep with the enemy.

  Jack has a lot of explaining to do. So, why does he look so calm, cool and collected?

  Ryan glances from Jack to me, and back again. “So, what the hell happened?”

  I scoot down in my seat. “I cede the floor to my colleague.”

  The way the frames holding Ryan’s commendations and POTUS fan boy pics shake when his fist hits the wall, you’d think SoCal is being hit with a tremor. “Miss Stone, There will be no ‘ceding.’ This isn’t some high school debate. I’d like some answers, Damn it!”

  Jack shrugs. “The intel was sound. The MANPAD was onboard. Donna secured it—for a while, anyway.”

  “For ‘a while?’” I shake my head in disgust. “You know, Jack, if you’d shown up when I called—”

  Jack swats my accusation away, as if it’s a pesky fly. “But we got sidelined—”

  “We?” My tone makes it very clear: there was no “we.”

  There was him, and there was her.

  Ah yes. This is the “we” he’s talking about.

  As for me, I was tied up, so to speak.

  Ryan yanks at what little hair he has left. “Do you want to explain how?”

  Jack takes a deep breath. He starts to speak, then shuts his mouth.

  I can’t stand it any longer. “For God’s sake, tell him, Jack.”

  “Tell me what?” Ryan asks.

  I glare at Jack. “Tell him, or I will.”

  He shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Donna.”

  “Like hell I don’t! I understand perfectly.” I turn to Ryan. “Valentina.”

  Ryan’s eyes go blank. “What about her?”

  “She was there, at Miles’ free sex soirée!” I practically choke on my words. “With Jack.”

  Nothing. Not a peep from Ryan.

  On a good day, his expressions are stonier than the Sphinx’s.

  But this is not a good day.

  It is a very, very bad day.

  So yeah, you can knock me over with a feather when he says, “Yeah, okay. So what?”

  I can’t believe my ears. “‘So what?’ She’s the enemy . . . right? Hello, am I missing something here?”

  Ryan’s gaze shift from me to Jack. I don’t know why. Jack can’t see it. He’s closed his eyes.

  Ryan clears his throat. “Jack, sorry, guy. You should’ve followed my advice and told her.”

  Her. By that, I guess he means me. “What should you have told me, Jack?”

  Slowly, Jack opens one eye, then the other. “I was supposed to tell you that Valentina is one of ours.”

  “Oh.” No.

  No.

  She is not one of mine.

  But now I know. She is his.

  I don’t want him to see me cry, so I stand up and walk over to the window.

  I wish it would snow.

  Fat chance. This is LA. Only if the world were to end would that happen.

  But my world has just ended. Did I miss something? I look up at the clouds, to see if they’ve parted.

  Finally I whisper, “Since when?”

  “It happened a few months back. You remember that note she left with Trisha—”

  “Ha! How could I forget it?” I’m laughing hysterically. I can’t help it. The audacity of that bitch, to come near my child . . .

  “It was her way of putting out feelers. She offered to double up.” Jack reaches over and takes my hand in his. Is he worried I may reach for my gun?

  He should be. I hate liars.

  And he’s been lying to me, since then. Almost half a year!

  The fool. Doesn’t he realize I can still reach the pistol strapped to my ankle?

  “Yeah, well, her ‘feelers’ have quite a sting. Does anyone here remember she tried to kill me, just last week?”

  “That was a mistake on her part, Donna. The Chinese were also after the intel. She thought you were one of their assassins, and she was trying to cut them off at the pass, so we’d have a clear shot.” Jack seeks out my eyes. “That morning, if I hadn’t been lateral’ed to the missing MANPAD surveillance, I would have done it myself. I couldn’t get to her in time, to tell her to lay low. You have to believe me when I say she wasn’t expecting you to do the pick-up.”

  “No, Jack, I don’t have to believe you. When it comes to Valentina, I keep catching you in lies.” I try to smile, but I’m trembling too hard. “Wow. And to think, now you’re going to be her handler! Just like old times, isn’t it?”

  “Donna, I swear, it’s not what you think!”

  I can’t hold the tears back anymore. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because . . . because we couldn’t have it getting back to Carl.”

  “How would that have happened?” Then it hits me. “Oh, I get it. You thought I wouldn’t be able to keep it from Carl.”

  The way Ryan clears his throat you’d think he swallowed a frog. “Donna, it was Jack’s call to keep you in the dark, but I agreed with it. The fewer people who know the names and faces of our doubles, the better. And this is the first time Acme had one inside the Quorum. We just couldn’t risk it.”

  He’s forgetting about Carl. Carl infiltrated the Quorum.

  But then Carl was turned by the Quorum.

  So, why does Jack find it so easy to trust Valentina?

  Is it because he loves her?

  Well, I don’t. I hate her guts.

  She took Carl from me.

  Now she wants Jack back, too.

  “How do you know she’s not a triple agent?” I glare at Jack. “Why did it take you ten minutes to get to me, Jack? What were you doing with her all that time?”

  “Covering your ass.” Jack’s eyes could cut steel right now. Instead, they drill through me. “Valentina cornered me for one reason. To give me the heads-up that Carl was on his way there, to exterminate Miles and take the MANPAD. Then, so that you’d complete your part of the mission, she did her bit to distract Miles’ security goons.”

  Yeah, I’ll just bet she did.

  “When she gave me the all-clear, I gave you the heads up, and made my way to Miles’ suite,” he continues. “Unfortunately, Carl got to you before I did.”

  “Don’t you find it a little too convenient that she waited until I was stuck in Miles’ dungeon to call in the cavalry? From what you’ve told me in the past, she was very good at playing you.”

  When Jack is angry, he has a tell. He releases a bullet, and someone ends up dead.

  From the look on his face, maybe I should duck and cover.

  But no, he reels in his anger if only to smile when he mutters, “Ha! Good at ‘playing me?’ Admit it, Donna. She’s got nothing on Carl.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Whenever Carl’s around, I always find you in an uncompromising position.” He tilts his head and smiles as if contemplating the memory of me in the cage, practically naked. “And yet, you always have an excuse as to why I may be wrong about him. Talk about delusional—”

  “Okay, children, enough already!” Ryan is pacing again. “Look, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to pair you two up. All you do is fight!”

  No, that’s not all we do. Sometimes we make love, not war.

  But now that Valentina’s back, Jack and she can pick up where they left off.

  Recreating their little love nest.

>   In that scenario, three’s definitely a crowd.

  “I . . . I think you’re right, Ryan. In fact, let me make it easy on you. From now on, I’ll forego any assignments dealing with the Quorum.”

  Ryan shakes his head. “That’s not necessary, Donna. You’re too valuable an asset, and right now, it’s all hands on deck.”

  “If you agree with Jack that my feelings may compromise this mission, I’ll respectfully resign, sir.”

  Ryan says nothing.

  So much for his vote of confidence.

  “I suspected as much.” I force my lips into a smile. “Jack deserves kudos for turning Valentina. Handling her is a full-time job, no doubt. Certainly more exciting than—how did you put it, when we first met, Jack? Oh yeah: ‘being stuck out in Siberbia.’ Congratulations on your promotion.”

  Jack is by my side in no time flat. When he touches my arm, I jerk it away, as if his touch may scorch my skin. “Donna, you’re overreacting.”

  “No, I think overreacting is what the kids are going to do when their ‘father’ walks out of their lives, yet again.” When I reach the door, I turn back around. “Do me a favor. At least wait until after New Year’s Day. That way, I can salvage their holiday. In the meantime, you can sleep in the guest room.”

  It feels good to slam the door behind me.

  I run to the car before I change my mind and beg him to come back.

  Chapter 13

  Decorating Christmas Cookies

  Like snowflakes, no two Christmas cookie recipes are alike! Not only do they come in all shapes and sizes, they have the advantage of being different flavors, too!

  The traditional sugar cookie is easy-peasy! Your ingredients are 1 cup butter, softened; 1 cup sugar; 2 large eggs; 2 teaspoons vanilla extract; 1 teaspoon almond extract; 3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour; 2 teaspoons baking powder; 1/2 teaspoon salt.

  Preheat your oven to 350 Bake, and line two baking sheets with parchment paper. While waiting for it to heat up, beat the butter and sugar at medium speed with an electric mixer, until fluffy. (No bat necessary.) Then beat in the eggs, vanilla and almond extract until combined (again, don’t use a bat).

  In another bowl, combine flour, baking powder and salt. Gradually you’ll add this combination to your sugar mixture, and beat (without a bat) until smooth.