by Lynn, JB
“Go home,” I demanded firmly.
“Go home and tell Herschel what’s happening,” God explained.
The men looked at my squeaking chest.
“Run, DeeDee,” God urged. “Run! Get help!”
Spinning around, DeeDee raced off.
“Well-trained,” the man pointing the gun at me said. He had a slight accent, something vaguely Eastern European.
“The cat won’t hurt you, either,” I told him, raising my hands in surrender. “Just let her go.”
“The cat was supposed to be a message,” he said. “Now, I guess you’re going to have to be the one to deliver that.” He dropped the bag on the ground.
Piss grunted in pain. “Get me out of here.”
“You have to save yourself,” God told her.
“Sure,” I agreed, trying to appear helpful to the man. “I can deliver a message.”
“Yeah,” he smirked, “I know you will.” He stepped close enough to tap my sternum with his gun.
I swallowed hard. I could hear Patrick’s voice drilling the basics of self-defense. “Eyes. Nose. Throat. Groin.”
What he’d never taught was how important it was to breathe when in danger. It makes the whole thinking and moving thing easier. I forced myself to take slow, measured breaths, knowing my best bet was to wait until DeeDee returned with whatever version of the cavalry she was able to muster.
Or, considering God had told her to get my grandfather, maybe that wasn’t the best idea.
“Just tell me what you want,” I blurted out.
“What they want is for him to suffer,” the man said.
“I don’t mean to be nitpicky,” I said. “But who, specifically, is they?”
An amused glint shone in his eyes. “I like you.”
“I’m not sure I can really say the same,” I replied.
He chuckled. “First, you take out Hans…”
“Like Hans Gruber?” God whispered. “Star of Die Hard, the greatest Christmas movie ever?”
I didn’t think Hans was the star, but considering the lizard sounds just like Alan Rickman, it figured that’s what he thought. Nor did I believe it was the best Christmas movie. I’m pretty sure that’s While You Were Sleeping, but it wasn’t the time or place to have that particular argument.
“And now you’re standing there, making jokes before you die.”
I gulped. Maybe Armani had mistranslated the whole Hans Gruber/Die Hard thing. “I really don’t know who ‘they’ are.”
“But he does,” the man said with an evil grin. “This will torture him, finding you dead.”
A high-pitched squeal made us all look for the source of the noise.
“Run! Run, Maggie!” Matilda screamed as she charged at the three gunmen from behind.
She knocked one off his feet.
Cawing, Mike flew at the face of the other.
And I used the distraction to tackle the one who’d held a gun on me. We fell to the ground, rolling around.
“Eyes. Nose. Throat. Groin!” God shouted as I tried to wrestle the man’s gun away from him.
But I was no match for him. Just like Matilda and Mike were not up to taking down their opponents. We were losing our battles.
I was barely holding on to my gunman’s wrist, Mike was being shot at by the one he’d attacked, and Matilda was grunting with pain from being kicked by the third. My friends were going to die trying to save me.
“Run!” I gasped, but they couldn’t hear me. “Just run!”
“Eyes! Nose! Throat! Groin!” God continued to shout.
“Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” An ear-splitting screech sounded from above as Percy, the blind peacock, swooped in, talons bared, attacking the man kicking the pig.
When the man shooting at Mike turned his gun on Percy, Piss, having finally freed herself from the bag, launched herself at his groin. Screaming in pain, his shot went wide. Then, DeeDee, jaws snapping, launched herself at him, and they fell to the ground.
Taking his own advice, God ran up my arm, jumped onto my attacker’s face, and snapped his tail, like a whip, into the man’s eye. I used that diversion to wrench the gun from his grip and roll away, jubilant that the tide was turning in our favor.
My joy was short-lived.
The leader yanked another gun out of an ankle holster and aimed at me. I fumbled with the gun I held, trying to pull the trigger. I realized the safety must be on and started searching for it.
“Shoot!” God screamed. “Shoot or die!”
Percy screeched. DeeDee growled. Matilda oinked. Piss yowled.
The cacophony and chaos, not to mention the after-effects of the hand-to-hand struggle, made me lightheaded.
The shot rang out.
It’s weird how things seem to move in slow motion sometimes.
Especially when they revolve around death.
27
Two shots hit the leader, center mass.
I watched his eyes widen in surprise and then he fell backward, kicking up a cloud of dust when he hit the ground.
And everything went silent.
I swayed weakly, my weapon still pointed at him. I stared at it, confused. I hadn’t pulled the trigger, had I?
“Put down the gun, Maggie.”
I lowered the weapon I held to my side and turned to find the source of the voice.
His face was familiar, but I must have been in shock because I couldn’t identify him right away.
“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, slowly walking toward me. “You’re going to be okay.”
He didn’t look at me as he approached. His gaze, like his gun, was trained on the other two gunmen.
“You shot him?” I guessed.
Wailing sirens were approaching.
“Please don’t shoot my dog,” I begged. “Or my cat. Or my crow. Or my peacock. Or my pig. They were just protecting me.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “Uncle Larry told me all about how you’ve got them trained as some sort of elite security force. I didn’t believe him. Now, I do.”
“Uncle Larry,” I repeated. That’s when it clicked who he was. It’s why his face was familiar. He was Griswald’s other nephew, Detective Brian Griswald’s cousin. I’d met him when I’d first met Griswald. If memory served, he was a Marshal, too, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name.
I sat on the ground, some distance away, surrounded by my animals, even Mike was on the ground, while he dealt with the police.
“You didn’t tell him not to shoot me,” God pouted. He was curled up on the snout of Matilda, preferring her company to mine.
“I figured he couldn’t see you,” I told him.
“Besides,” Piss added, “it’s not like you posed any threat to him.”
The lizard puffed out his chest. “I’ll have you know, I blinded Maggie’s attacker.”
“He did,” I confirmed quickly. “He was very brave. You were all very brave. Thank you.”
“You all came to save me,” Piss meowed emotionally.
“Not me,” Percy corrected. “I did my duty. I defended the property from intruders.”
“And you did an excellent job,” I assured him.
He fanned out his tail feathers with pride.
I watched as the elder Griswald cleared the top of the hill and moved toward us. He flashed his badge at the cops, stopped to talk to his nephew for a minute, and hurried toward me.
“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.
I nodded.
“They’re not talking. Do you know who they work for?”
I shook my head. “We didn’t get that far in the conversation. The guy that was shot,” I glanced over at the body, now being photographed by crime scene technicians, “said they want him to suffer. I tried asking for specifics, but I didn’t—”
“You asked for clarification?” Griswald’s voice crackled with disbelief and respect.
I nodded. “Oh, but he did say that I ‘took out Hans’. That mus
t be the guy who shot up the hospital.”
“Hans,” Griswald repeated. “That may help. We haven’t figured out who he is yet. His prints aren’t in the system and he’s not talking.”
“Hans, definitely Hans,” I told him.
His nephew joined us. “The cops are kicking you loose.” He held out a hand, offering to haul me to my feet.
Too embarrassed to admit I didn’t remember his name, I scrambled up under my own power, scooping God off of Matilda’s nose in the process, a move that caused the two Griswalds to exchange a look.
“I’ve still got to do an after-incident debrief,” he said, turning back toward the scrum of cops.
“Thank you,” I called after him. “Thank you for shooting him.”
He looked back at me. “I was coming to visit my uncle, and I heard shots fired. I had to respond.”
I nodded. “Still…thank you.”
“What were they firing at?” he asked curiously.
I pointed at Mike. “The crow.”
Eyebrows raised, his eyes went to the bird, still on the ground with the others. “I’m sorry I asked.” He shook his head as he walked away.
His uncle stayed with me. “Let’s get you back to the house. We’ll get your aunt to make you something to eat.”
I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was to be fussed over. I wanted to feel like I was doing something. I wasn’t in a position where I could find out anything more about the friends of Hans, but I did have another job to do. “No. I want to go back to the hospital and see my dad. He wasn’t doing well earlier.” That was a lie. I wanted to go look for Leonard Klugman.
Griswald nodded his understanding. We walked almost all the way back to the house in silence, the animals parading behind, before he said, “I guess your self-defense class with Detective Mulligan paid off.”
I nodded. “It did.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Patrick had been the one to give me my first self-defense lesson a long time ago, in a barn. “I asked my dad who’s after him,” I told the Marshal. “I believed him when he said he didn’t know.”
Griswald sighed heavily. “That’s what happens when you spend a lifetime making enemies.”
“I’m going with you,” Piss meowed as we neared the house.
“Too me!” DeeDee barked.
“Not me,” Matilda oinked. “I’m too sore.”
Griswald glanced over his shoulder. “They’re a vocal group.”
I bit back a smile. If he only knew.
“I’ll lead Percy back,” Matilda declared and the peacock veered off.
“You should change your clothes,” God suggested. “You’re filthy and the dirt isn’t good for my sensitive skin.”
Glancing down at myself, I realized he was right. Rolling around in the dirt with the gunman had taken its toll.
Marlene rushed up to me the moment I stepped in the house. “Are you okay?” Before I could answer, she hugged me tightly.
“Sensitive skin,” God muttered, scrambling to keep from getting crushed.
“I was so worried,” my sister continued.
“I’m fine, Marlene. Really.”
She pulled back and ran her gaze over me from head-to-toe. “Mia called. Said she needed to get in touch with you. She wanted me to give her your number.” She handed me a slip of paper. “I got you hers instead.”
“Thanks.”
“She asked about Dad, too,” Marlene revealed.
I stiffened, hoping she hadn’t drawn Marlene into this mess by telling her about the alibi.
“She seemed really concerned about him.”
“I’m sure she is,” I murmured. After all, if he died, she’d have nothing to hold over me. “I’m going to change and run some errands.”
Nodding, she stepped out of my way. “I’m glad you’re okay, Maggie.”
“I’m just glad Brian’s cousin came to visit his uncle,” I joked.
I cleaned myself off, put on some fresh clothes, and resumed my search for Leo The Lion, while wondering who those men had wanted to make suffer. My assumption was it was my dad, but if I’ve learned anything during my tenure as a part-time assassin, it’s that assumptions can lead to deadly mistakes. No matter who they were after, they’d involved my family, and that both terrified me and ticked me off.
As soon as I’d driven out of the driveway, I stopped the car and pulled out the phone Patrick had given me.
He answered on the first ring. “Mags.”
“Hey, I—”
“Are you okay?” he interrupted. “I saw there was a shooting at your place.”
“Wasn’t me,” I told him. “Listen, I talked to Marlene and I may have a lead.”
“Really?” he sounded genuinely surprised.
I wasn’t sure if that was due to the fact I’d asked Marlene about the photograph or that it had resulted in a clue.
“And you’re calling me before you go off and do something stupid? That’s a first.”
I ignored his dig. “She said the picture was taken at a textile factory near a leather factory. Do you have any idea where that could be?”
“I know where the leather factory is. I’ll text you the address and meet you there. If you arrive first, wait for me.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Mags. Wait for me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay.”
He disconnected the call.
“Hungry,” DeeDee complained.
“The redhead has that effect on her,” God pointed out. “It’s not her fault. Every time she has contact with him, he feeds her.”
“Hungry,” DeeDee confirmed.
I pulled into the nearest fast-food place and got two burgers. I tossed one in the back seat for the Doberman and shared the other with Piss, who was riding shotgun. It made me think of the time I’d gotten food with Gino. I wondered if I should call him. I decided not to. It wasn’t like I needed his help, not when I had Patrick’s.
The text with the address to the leather factory came through, so I plugged it into my GPS and headed there.
“There’s something I don’t understand,” God said from his spot on the dashboard.
“Miracle!” Piss trilled sarcastically. “He admits he doesn’t know something.”
I swallowed a smile and asked the lizard, “What’s bothering you?”
“If Klugman stole all this money, why is he still in town? It’s not like it’s because he’s worried about his family. He’s left his sick kid. He can’t conduct business. So why stay?”
I drummed on the steering wheel. “That’s a good question.”
“I bet it has to do with Whitehat,” Piss guessed. “Why else would my Zeke be involved? Maybe you should call him.”
“No.” My answer was automatic.
“She’s trying to keep the streams from colliding,” God told the cat. “Delveccio. Whitehat. Patrick. Griswald.”
I nodded. “Attempting to prevent disaster.”
“I understand,” the cat meowed. “But I’d still like to see Zeke.”
And I really wanted to find Leo Klugman.
28
Not surprisingly, the address was in the industrial part of town, a mixture of factories and warehouses, though there was a strip of bars, tattoo parlors, and a poor man’s art gallery for those who preferred a grittier aspect of nightlife.
It was in the part of town I avoided after dark, and the sun was setting.
I looked for Patrick as I got out of the car but didn’t see him. With Piss prancing ahead and DeeDee by my side, I walked the length of the leather factory, which basically gave off the odor of dead, tanned cows. Past it was the textile factory. It smelled worse.
I wrinkled my nose and drew back.
“What’s wrong?” God asked.
“It stinks like…like…” I retched.
“Like what?” the lizard asked.
“Dead people.”
“Ahh,” he said, like he understood. “And Armani said you’ll die.”
&
nbsp; Piss glanced over her shoulder at me. “Sorry, sugar. I’ve sniffed dead people and they don’t stink like that.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “It smells like a funeral home.”
“It certainly does,” Patrick agreed.
I let out a startled shriek and found him standing right behind me.
“Patrick!” DeeDee barked, throwing herself at him.
While he stroked her, he berated me. “Which part of wait for me was so difficult for you?”
“I didn’t know how long you’d be, and I wanted to get a look around before it gets dark,” I said defensively.
“Did you find anything?”
“I just got here.”
He smirked. “I know. I saw you arrive.”
I frowned. “Why didn’t you make yourself known?”
“I did. I’m here, aren’t I?”
I glared at him. He looked amused. “You want to go inside?”
I actually wanted to get as far away as possible from the stench, but I nodded.
“Back door’s unlocked,” he said. He winked at the dog. “Come with me.” He led the way around the building, DeeDee glued to his side. Carefully, he eased the door open and ushered for me to enter..
The odor was even worse inside, and I gagged.
“Focus on breathing through your mouth,” Patrick urged.
We explored the main floor of the factory. In addition to oversized reams of fabric, there were huge uncovered vats belching steam. I couldn’t see what was in them since they were at least twelve feet tall.
“Formaldehyde,” God blurted out.
He was perched on my shoulder. I gave him a sideways look.
“They use formaldehyde to make clothes wrinkle-free and to embalm bodies,” he explained. “That’s why you think it smells like dead people.”
I wanted to ask how he knew that, but I already know he watches too much television.
Hearing voices, we froze in place.
“Up there,” Patrick whispered, pointing to the second floor. “You take the dog and the stairs. I’ll find another way up.”
I nodded my understanding.
“And Maggie, wait for me,” he warned.
He hurried off and I slowly climbed the stairs, keeping DeeDee behind me.
