Maggie Lee | Book 25 | The Hitwoman Owes A Favor

by Lynn, JB

  I nodded slowly. He was right. I had to choose the mob bosses over my old friend, over my father’s freedom.

  “I’ll call her now.” I pulled out my phone.

  “No,” God said. “She asked you in person. You need to refuse her face-to-face.”

  I gulped nervously. “I’m really not good with confrontation.”

  “And yet, you survive it,” he pointed out.

  I refrained from saying that had been before Armani’s prediction.

  7

  By marrying Leonard “The Lion” Klugman, Mia Vigh had moved up in the world. She’d also moved into one of the tackiest places I’d ever seen. If you were to do a mash-up of the most gaudy place on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous and the most over-the-top home on MTV Cribs and then combine it with the garishness of the now-bankrupt casinos of Atlantic City, you might get something close to Casa de Cash.

  I’m not kidding about the name. There was a freaking sign at the end of the driveway that flashed Casa de Cash as I drove past.

  “Shiny!” DeeDee, who was sitting in the front seat of my car, barked excitedly.

  God, perched on the dashboard, took one look at the sculptures, engaged in various sexual exploits that dotted the circular cobblestone driveway and muttered, “Vulgar.”

  “But Loretta would approve,” Piss meowed from the back seat.

  I chuckled at her observation, then held out my hand so the lizard could run up my arm and dive into my bra. To the others, I said, “Okay. You guys stay here. This shouldn’t take long.”

  As I walked up the marble stairs and pushed the doorbell ringer, which was in the shape of a dollar sign, I murmured to God, “You don’t say a word.”

  I heard voices inside, apparently arguing, but eventually the door was thrown open with an exasperated huff.

  “What do you want?” a boy of about twelve, wearing a gaming headset and an enormous attitude, asked.

  “I uh, I’m here to see—”

  “He’s not here.” The door slammed in my face.

  I blinked, surprised. Then, I pounded on the door with my fist.

  The door opened again.

  “I told you, he’s not here,” the kid said.

  “I’m looking for Mia,” I told him. “Is she your mom?”

  “My mom?” he mocked with bitter hostility. “She’s the cow who gave birth to me.”

  I blinked again. Twice. Mia hadn’t been kidding when she said her kids hated her. At least, this one did. I felt a twinge of sympathy for her. “Tell her Maggie is here to see her.”

  “Tell her yourself.” He turned and walked away.

  After a second, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The interior was even flashier and trashier than the exterior. “Mia?” I called. “It’s Maggie.”

  “Manson, show our guest in,” Mia called from the back of the house.

  “Manson?” God asked. “Like the murderous cult leader?”

  “Shhh,” I reprimanded, swallowing a smile.

  “This is a bad omen,” the lizard warned. “Armani says you die and now you’ve met Manson.”

  I didn’t think the boy would be returning to lead me, so I moved in the direction of Mia’s voice. I could hear her talking to someone, her words sharp with anger.

  When I reached the doorway of the kitchen, she was throwing her phone across the room.

  “Bankers,” she said, when she saw me watching. She picked up a wineglass and gulped down its contents. “Did you find him? Did you find the cheating snake?” She threw the glass across the room, too.

  I shook my head. “I can’t do it, Mia. I can’t help you.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes as she put her hands on her hips. “You mean you won’t.”

  I nodded.

  “After all I did for you.”

  I gulped, preparing myself for the threat I knew she’d level.

  “Then the next time you see your father, he’ll be in jail. Again.” Mia delivered the words with a cold fury.

  There was a time in my life when I would have been intimidated by her warning, a time when I would have done anything to keep her anger at bay and protect my dad, but I’m not that person anymore. I’ve been through too much. I’ve done some things I would have thought I was incapable of. I don’t scare easy.

  “Yeah, well, maybe he and your hubby can be cellmates,” I snapped back at her. “Maybe the next time I see you will be in the prison visitor waiting room.”

  Before she’d even finished her sharp intake of breath, I’d spun around and was stalking out of the house. White hot fury fueled my steps. I’d already gotten out the front door and was headed down the cobblestone drive toward the car when she caught up with me.

  “Maggie!” she called.

  I ignored her.

  “Maggie, wait!”

  I heard her steps chasing after me, but I kept walking.

  “Please,” she begged.

  I stopped but didn’t turn to face her.

  “Keep going,” God whispered. “Your life may depend on it.”

  I ignored him and stood still.

  “It’s not just about the money,” she said. “It’s about my son’s life. His literal life, Maggie. He’s sick. He’s dying.”

  “Not a kid in trouble,” God moaned. “We’re doomed.”

  Slowly, I turned to face Mia. I studied her closely. She looked exhausted. I’d noticed her dark circles and frown lines earlier, but I’d missed how frail she looked. Like she hadn’t eaten a decent meal or slept through the night for months, years maybe.

  She was clutching her stomach as though she was in tremendous pain.

  “Manson?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Bundy.”

  I stared at her, blinking, while God made a noise that fell somewhere between a laugh and a choking sound.

  Mia, in turn, stared at my chest, which appeared to be making strange noises.

  “You named your kids after serial killers?” I asked, thinking it was no wonder they hated her.

  She shrugged. “Leonard wants them to be famous.”

  “You do know there’s a difference between famous and infamous, don’t you?” I asked.

  “I know. But on the plus side, no one who meets them ever forgets their names.”

  I shook my head and started to back up toward my car. My life was crazy enough, I didn’t need more insanity.

  “He has a heart condition,” Mia blurted out.

  “Your husband?”

  “Bundy.” Tears filled her eyes and her voice shook as she continued. “He had a heart transplant a while ago and we thought that would fix things but…” She trailed off, wiping away the waterworks gushing down her cheeks.

  I leaned back against my car as a sick feeling flooded through me. It couldn’t be. It was too much of a coincidence. And yet…

  “Where?” I asked her weakly, hoping I was wrong.

  “What?” Mia asked.

  “Where did he have the surgery?” I held my breath, hoping she’d rattle off the name of a hospital I recognized.

  “Here,” she said. She pointed to the far end of the house. “That whole wing is a sterilized bubble for him. That’s why I can’t lose this house. If I do, my boy will die.”

  I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, trying to focus on taking steady breaths.

  “How’d you get the heart?” I asked.

  “He was on a transplant list. When one came available, they performed the operation right here.”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” God whispered.

  What I was thinking was that the heart Mia’s son had received had been stolen.

  And I was pretty sure it was my old friend Zeke who had delivered it to her.

  “I can’t help you,” I blurted out. It was tricky enough that the Delveccios were involved regarding money. Considering that their nephew, Angel, had been involved in the heart heist (though, to his credit, he’d been an unwitting accomplice…sorta) there was no way I could be
a part of this mess.

  Mia frowned. “But…you promised.”

  “I didn’t promise,” I said quickly. “I said I’d try…and now I’m telling you I won’t be trying anymore.” I turned toward my car.

  “You promised when I gave him the alibi. You promised, then, Maggie, to help me with whatever I needed, whenever I needed it.”

  A wave of guilt washed over me, knowing she was right. But the situation was too dangerous. I’d be endangering everything, everyone I loved, if I got caught up in this mess.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured, reaching for my door handle. “I just can’t, Mia.”

  “But I don’t have anyone else to turn to,” she sobbed.

  I closed my eyes. “You’ll figure it out. It’ll all work out.” The platitudes rang false.

  “Leave,” God urged from my car. “Leave now before you blow it.”

  “You’re killing my boy, Maggie,” Mia wailed. “When he dies, and he will without the best medical care money can provide, you’re the one responsible for his death.”

  Tears leaked through my closed eyes. I knew what it was like to be willing to do anything to ensure the well-being of a child. I knew what it was like to sit by a bedside, holding a kid’s hand, knowing the only way to help was with money.

  Blinking away my tears, I got into the car and closed the door before I looked at Mia again. She was kneeling on the ground, holding her stomach, rocking back and forth. She was in hopeless agony.

  I started the car and grabbed the gear shift. Then, I froze. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

  “You can’t fix every problem in the world,” God said quietly.

  I knew he was right.

  “I can’t,” I agreed.

  “So let’s go,” he urged.

  I squeezed the gear shift as I whispered, “I can try to solve this one.”

  “But you shouldn’t,” he countered. “It’s foolish. It’s dangerous. You could end up dead.”

  When had that ever stopped me?

  8

  God wasn’t speaking to me.

  After I’d turned off the car and told Mia I would do what I could to help her find her wayward husband, he hadn’t said another word.

  Not even on the ride back home. I’d tried to start a conversation, but he’d remained stubbornly silent.

  Deciding I didn’t need to carry around his negative energy, I put him in his terrarium and scooped up Benny instead, putting him in a small handbag before I went to find Griswald.

  I found him and Templeton in the kitchen playing poker.

  “Deal you in?” Templeton invited as I walked in.

  I shook my head. “Not today. I need to steal your opponent.”

  “Good,” Templeton declared. “I was losing anyway. Too many good poker players in this house.”

  He winked at me as he got to his feet and walked out. I had no doubt that he’d been letting the U.S. Marshal win.

  Griswald watched me curiously. “Something on your mind, Maggie?”

  “Could we go for a ride?”

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask any questions. He simply nodded and said, “Let me tell Susan we’re heading out. I’ll meet you by my car.”

  While I waited for him outside, Herschel led Irma by.

  Katie waved excitedly from the back of the donkey. “Hi, Aunt Maggie.”

  “Are you having fun?” I asked, even though I could tell from the size of her smile that she was having a great time.

  “Yes!” she confirmed. “Alicia is going to ride next.”

  I smiled at my other niece, who was following the donkey, walking between her teacher Miss Lassalan and my aunt Leslie, holding their hands. Alicia frowned back at me.

  “I told her not to be afraid,” Katie said.

  I glanced at Herschel. “Has she ridden before?”

  “No,” Irma brayed. “She’s afraid of me.”

  Herschel rolled his eyes.

  I strolled over to Alicia and knelt in front of her. The girl who’d had no fears scrambling up to the top of the climbing wall at the game center I’d first met her at was chewing on her lip nervously.

  “Do you want to ride Irma?” I asked her.

  She shook her head.

  “Why not?”

  Eyes welling with tears, she said, “I’m scared.”

  I opened my arms and she threw herself against me, much like her cousin sometimes did.

  “Don’t make me,” she begged, sobbing.

  I picked her up and carried her away from everyone so we could talk privately. “Nobody’s going to make you ride Irma if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want to try anything,” she sniffled. “I hate trying everything.”

  My heart squeezed for the little girl. New home. New family. The poor thing was going through a myriad of new experiences. No wonder she didn’t want to try riding Irma.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marlene approaching. She looked worried, an understandable reaction considering I was holding her crying daughter.

  “Is there anything you do want?” I asked Alicia, thinking it would be nice if her mother could provide her with a positive experience amidst all the changes.

  “I want…I want…”

  As she screwed her eyes shut, preparing to blurt out her answer, my heart sank. I just knew she was going to say, “I want my daddy.”

  That would be an impossible thing for Marlene or anyone else to deliver.

  I knew from experience how painful it was to hear that you can’t see your parent because he or she is locked up. I would have done anything to spare my newfound niece that kind of hurt, but I wouldn’t lie to her about why her father wasn’t around. I held my breath, stiffening my spine, preparing for the next outburst.

  “I want a tattoo!” she cried.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I want a tattoo. A unicorn one,” she explained, warming to the subject. “Pink or purple…with glitter.”

  I nodded. “Okay. We can get you that.”

  “Promise?” she asked, eyes wide.

  “Your mom will get you that,” I said, pointing to Marlene, who was now only a few feet away and had heard the whole request.

  Eyes bright with unshed tears, Marlene nodded. “We can get that for you, sweetheart.”

  “And I don’t have to ride the smelly donkey?” Alicia asked.

  I shook my head. “But don’t call her smelly. It’ll hurt her feelings.”

  I put my niece down so she could walk over to Marlene, who scooped her up in a big hug, mouthing “Thank you” to me over the girl’s shoulder.

  Nodding, I turned away and realized Griswald was standing by his car, watching the scene with curiosity.

  One family emergency dealt with, another one to take care of.

  “Everything okay?” the U.S. Marshal asked as I hurried toward him.

  “No to donkeys. Yes to tattoos,” I explained.

  “Don’t let Susan see,” he warned.

  “Not me,” I told him. “Alicia wants a tattoo.”

  He chuckled as we climbed into his car. “I was just teasing.”

  Unlike my clunker, which is covered in animal fur, his vehicle was pristine. I wasn’t surprised.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “Have you been to Theresa’s grave?”

  He glanced at me sharply. “Yes.”

  “That’s where we’re going.”

  Shrugging, he started the car and began to drive. I admired the restraint he showed not asking why we were going to a cemetery at dusk.

  Instead, he said, “I’m going to have to go out of town for a little while.”

  “How long?”

  “Two weeks. Maybe three. There’s a case I need to testify in.” He didn’t sound happy about it. In fact, I thought he sounded worried.

  “You’ve told Aunt Susan?”

  “I’ll tell her tonight. I thought I should warn you, first.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” I mutte
red.

  “You’re the glue that holds the family together, Maggie. I know it’s a lot of pressure and it probably feels unfair, but it’s the way things are.”

  I glanced over at him to see if he was teasing again, but he appeared serious. “This case…” I began.

  He shook his head. “Can’t talk about it.”

  “You sound worried.”

  He glanced at me sharply. I expected him to say it was nothing, but instead, he admitted, “I have some concerns.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, but he fell silent.

  “It’s about Archie,” I admitted when we were halfway to our destination.

  “No. It’s a different case.”

  Realizing we were talking about different things, I corrected, “Archie’s the reason we’re going to the cemetery.”

  “Is he buried there?” he asked drily. “Because honestly, I know he’s your dad and all, but it would make my life a lot less complicated.”

  “He wants to see you.”

  “What’s he going to mess up now?” Griswald muttered bitterly.

  I flinched at his tone.

  “I assume this means you’ve been in contact with him?”

  “Uh huh.” Considering the animosity in his voice, I didn’t think it would be wise to let him know that Archie was staying on the property.

  “What does he want?”

  “To cut a deal.”

  He snorted his disbelief. “He’s always trying to cut a deal and then fails to follow through. What’s this one about?”

  “He didn’t tell me.”

  He nodded his approval. “Good. First smart thing he’s done. Better to keep you out of it.”

  “Uh huh.”

  He slid his gaze from the road ahead to me. “What about this Mia character? Is she going to be trouble?”

  I swallowed nervously, wondering how he’d found out about Mia and the extent of what he knew.

  “Susan told me,” he said, answering the first part of my question. “She was gushing about the success she’d made of herself.”

  I stiffened in my seat, knowing that although my aunt was proud of me for how I’d stepped up for Katie, she didn’t think my life was a success to be bragged about. Not that I could blame her.