by Lynn, JB
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Baum
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Chapter One
You know it's going to be a bad day when you get smacked in the face with a thong.
I hadn't even worked an hour at my Aunt Loretta's lingerie shop, The Corset, when someone decided a pink, lacy thong would make the ideal slingshot. I tried to remind myself that the customer is always right as the sound of annoying tittering laughter reached me. I took a deep breath and bent to pick up the launched underwear. I exhaled slowly, as I stood back up, pasting a smile on my face for the benefit of the bridal party that had taken over the store.
"I take it someone wants these?"
The maid of honor, Tiffany, shook her head. "I think she should get something more risqué."
I glanced down at the scrap of pink lace hanging from my fingers. "We have the same thing in black."
"I was thinking more like edible."
Tiffany and her three cohorts giggled like teenagers, despite the fact they hadn't been for at least three decades.
I could feel the edges of my fake smile fraying, and I searched the store, hoping Aunt Loretta would take over. This was her store. These were her tribe. For a part-time job, I've been known to kill people, not consult on their unmentionables.
Normally Loretta would have descended on these shoppers quicker than flies land on roadkill, but, having claimed that an unpleasant man had accosted her in the parking lot, she’d gone in the back to collect herself.
Like a sinful fairy godmother, Loretta, in a push-up bra, stilettos, and fake eyelashes, appeared between the racks. "If you're looking for edible," she trilled happily, "you have to try these."
I turned away before I could find out what "these" were. I was pretty sure I didn't want to know.
"Would you like to taste a sample?" Loretta offered, as the horny foursome hurried in her direction.
While they were distracted, I ducked down behind the counter. It was a childish move, but after 45 minutes of my first shift at this job, I was ready to quit.
I could hear chuckling coming from my chest, but I wasn’t laughing. Plucking at my collar, I pulled the fabric away from my skin so that I could look down my shirt. I glared at the anole lizard cradled between my breasts.
“Stop, please,” I hissed.
Godzilla, or God for short, instead said, “You really are not cut out for this job.”
“That’s what I told everyone,” I whispered. But no one had listened. Loretta was short-handed and I’d quit my job at Insuring the Future and had extra time, so everyone decided that I should help out at her shop.
I let go of my shirt, plunging God into darkness, as the shop’s telephone began to ring. I made a mad dive for it, almost spilling the bowl of dark chocolate and salted caramel-flavored condoms strategically placed in front of the cash register. I knew if I didn't get the phone, Loretta would leave the customers.
Snatching it up, I answered. "Thank you for calling The Corset. Love, sex, romance, and a little bit of naughtiness, in one garment."
All I heard on the other end of the call was wheezing. I didn't know if that was someone's version of heavy breathing, or if they just had a deviated septum. I grit my teeth. "Can I help you?"
The caller exploded into gales of laughter. The wheezing, must've been the man attempting to control himself. I closed my eyes, curling my free hand into a fist. If I had thought dealing with customers at my job at Insuring the Future was infuriating, interacting with the public at The Corset, was a whole other level of hell. If it was up to me, I'd hang up on the giggling jerk, but I didn't think Aunt Loretta would approve. So I just waited to see if he would say anything.
"I'm sorry, Maggie," the man said finally.
His voice was familiar but I couldn't place it. "Who is this?"
"Jack."
"Jack Stern?" My heartbeat sped up a little. It had been a while since I've spoken with the crime reporter. He'd disappeared after following me on my rescue mission to save my friend Armani from kidnappers.
"At your service," he chuckled.
I wanted to ask him where he'd been, why it seemed he'd fallen off the face of the planet, but I didn't think it wise considering I was pretty sure that Ms. Whitehat had been responsible for his whereabouts. I didn't trust the woman who blackmailed me into doing jobs for her, despite the fact she had sent people to rescue me on more than one occasion.
"Was there something you wanted?" I glanced back at Loretta, who was showing the bridal party something made of rubber. I didn't really want to know what it was, so I turned my back on them and concentrated on the conversation. "The Corset has a wide variety of sexual aids," I told Jack. "If there's something you need help with…"
"You really should work on your bedside manner," he teased. "Your love, sex, romance bit wasn't terribly convincing."
"Seriously, Jack, why are you calling?"
"I'd like to see you." All trace of levity had left his voice.
I got the distinct impression he was now in work mode.
"Why?" A knot of worry tightened in my gut. He knew Patrick. Did he suspect that my murder mentor/boyfriend had been responsible for a certain deadly car accident?
"It's about your family."
That didn't ease my anxiety. My family had a knack for getting into trouble. Trouble I didn't need a reporter publicizing. I bit my lower lip, unsure of how to answer Jack.
"It's important, Maggie," he said after my hesitation stretched too long.
I sighed, resigned to the idea that even though I didn't want to have whatever this conversation was going to be, I had no choice. "When?"
"Are you going to the hospital today?"
"Yes. I'll be there around..." I turned to see how the bridal shower group was doing. Aunt Loretta was piling plastic wrapped doodads into the shopping baskets the women held. That had to mean they were almost done. I looked at the clock and saw it was 3:30. Loretta had said I could leave at four provided the shop wasn't busy then. "I'll be there around 4:30."
"And you visit with your niece for an hour?"
"Yes." It was kind of creepy how well he seemed to know my schedule.
"Okay, so how about we meet in the cafeteria between 5:30 and 6? I'll buy you dinner. Anything you want."
"Big spender."
"I'm going to expense it," he laughed. "See you then." He disconnected the call.
I spent the next half hour hurriedly finishing up my work while Loretta rang up the sales of the bridal party, throwing in some of those chocolate-flavored condoms as a “free gift”.
The silence after the four women had left was the best thing I’d heard in ages.
Just as the clock reach
ed four, Templeton, Aunt Loretta’s fiancé strolled through the door.
“You are prompt,” Loretta trilled. “That’s why I like you.”
“I hope that’s not the only reason,” Templeton said, winking at me, and making a shooing motion to encourage my escape.
“Oh,” Loretta purred seductively. “There are many other things I like. Come here and I’ll show you.”
I beat a hasty retreat before she could show him what those things were and permanently traumatize me.
Little did I know that when I arrived at the hospital, I would be traumatized anyway.
My niece, Katie, wasn't in her room when I arrived. Neither was her roommate, Dominic, who'd only recently awakened from his coma. Since there was no one there, I settled into the visitor's chair, closed my eyes, and tried to nap for a few minutes. I didn't think I had dozed off, but when I opened my eyes I found I was no longer alone.
My stomach flip-flopped nervously, and I sat up straight, my heart pounding double-time at the man's unnerving stare. "I didn't hear you come in.”
“That's because you were snoring."
"Really?" I wasn't sure if I was more surprised or embarrassed by that revelation. Either way, I wasn't pleased that I had left myself vulnerable to this particular man.
I didn't like Vinny, Tony/Anthony Delveccio’s bodyguard. The steroid-fueled, muscle-bound, henchman of the mob boss who gave me my assassination jobs, made me nervous.
Not wanting him to think he had the advantage, I leaned back nonchalantly and asked, "Where's the kid?"
"Boss took them both for ice cream."
"Both?"
"Don't get your panties in a twist, they're just in the cafeteria."
I wanted to slap the smirk off Vinny's face, instead I asked, "How come you're not with them?"
His eyes narrowed as though I'd touched on a sensitive subject. "What business is it of yours?"
I shrugged and got to my feet. "I guess I'll go find them there."
He didn't reply, but he did step aside so that I could leave the room.
I practically ran to the cafeteria, not because I was worried about Katie’s safety while in the company of a mobster, but because the last thing I needed was for a nosy crime reporter to see said mobster babysitting my niece.
“What’s the rush?” God complained.
No doubt my pace jostled him in his resting place.
“Are you trying to bruise my delicate skin?”
Since there were people around, I didn’t answer him. I also did my best to ignore the way they stared at me as my chest continued to squeak.
While I hear God as a snooty Englishman, all the rest of the world hears is squeaking when he speaks.
To my relief, Jack Stern wasn't in the cafeteria when I reached it. In a back corner, Tony Delveccio sat with the two kids. His grandson, Dominic, was propped up in a wheelchair.
My beautiful niece Katie sat in a plastic chair, chattering away, while simultaneously licking a vanilla ice cream cone.
Tony, shirt unbuttoned halfway to his naval, was carefully spooning chocolate ice cream into Dominic's mouth, looking every bit the doting grandfather. In moments like this it was easy to forget that he was a dangerous criminal.
I hurried toward them, but was intercepted by a man who stepped into my path. I recognized him as Tony's backup bodyguard. I actually liked this man a lot more than Vinny. He didn't have the same maliciousness shining in his gaze, and I've even witnessed him being kind to Katie on occasion.
I gave him a tight smile. "Hi, I'm Katie's – –"
"I know who you are." He sounded amused that I had been about to explain myself. He pitched his voice lower. "I just wanted to tell you that he got her the low sugar ice cream."
I blinked. Was that some kind of code? Like when Vinny tells me that Delveccio wants to have some chocolate pudding, that really means he wants to give me an assassination job.
I guess my confusion showed on my face, because the more likable bodyguard told me, "That's a good thing. It means she won't be bouncing off the walls."
Deciding to take his words at face value, I nodded. "Thanks."
He stepped aside so I could continue. Little Dominic's eyes lit up as he spotted me, alerting his grandfather to my presence.
Tony turned and smiled at me. "Ice cream?"
"Aunt Maggie!" Katie called, waving at me with her ice cream cone. "Look what Mr. D. got me."
"Did you thank him?" I slid into the seat beside her, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She nodded, licking her cone for emphasis.
I look to Delveccio for confirmation.
"She certainly did." He offered another spoonful of ice cream to Dominic, but the little boy shook his head.
Remembering how long it'd been before Katie had been allowed to have real food after she'd been in a coma, I asked, "Does his doctor know about this little outing?"
The mobster's eyes narrowed a little bit, but a hint of a smile played at his lips. "That's why I like you. You always say what you think." He wagged his finger at me. "But someday that may get you in trouble."
I shrugged apologetically.
“Ooooh.” Kati shook her head. "Maggie's in trouble. I'm going to tell Aunt Susan."
She sounded so much like my sister Teresa, her mother, had at the same age, that I couldn't help but laugh. At the same time, tears stung my eyes, as I was hit once again by the loss of my sister.
Afraid I was really going to lose it, as I laughed and cried simultaneously, I jumped up from the table. “I’m going to get my own ice cream.” I stumbled away, hand covering my mouth, trying to get control of myself.
I was aware of Delveccio murmuring reassuringly, but I wasn't sure if he was telling Katie, or his bodyguard, that everything was okay.
I stumbled out into the hallway, not wanting Katie to witness my breakdown. In that moment I missed Teresa so much that my chest ached. That's the thing with grief, you think you're over something, past it, and all of the sudden it strikes out of nowhere, stealing your logic, breaking your heart all over again.
Tears stung my eyes, and I couldn't quite see where I was going, which is how I stumbled into a man.
"What's wrong?" a familiar, gravelly voice demanded to know, his fingers digging into my elbows, and attempting to keep me upright.
"She's dead," I wailed on a sobbing gasp.
He crushed me to his chest, pressing my cheek against leather. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
I cried harder. I missed Teresa so much.
To his credit, Jack Stern didn't pull away. He let me cry into his leather jacket, as stoic as a seawall in the midst of a hurricane.
Finally, when my tears had slowed, and I wasn't struggling to breathe, I pulled away from him.
He let me go, but hovered anxiously, as though he expected me to collapse at any moment. "How?" he asked gently.
"You know how." I grit my teeth as the memory of waking up from the car accident, and being told Teresa was gone, washed over me.
"I don't," he said softly.
For the first time, I raised my gaze to meet his. "The car accident."
He squinted, trying to make sense of what I was telling him. Leaning back, folding his arms across his chest, he asked carefully, "Who died?"
"Teresa."
He let out a relieved sigh. "I thought something happened to your niece."
Suddenly I felt like the world's biggest idiot. I'd been blubbering all over him like a mad woman. No wonder he'd assumed that something had happened to Katie.
I shook my head. "She's fine."
He nodded. "That's good news."
"You must think I’m insane."
A hint of a smile played at his lips. "I've researched your family. You have reason to be."
I couldn't help but chuckle. Wiping the remainder of my tears away, I dried my hands on my jeans. “Coconut doesn't fall far from the tree."
He raised an eye at my father’s old joke, then leaned his shoulder
against the wall, as though too exhausted to hold himself up anymore. "How are you?"
"I'm good."
He raised his eyebrows, silently letting me know that my crying jag disputed my words. "I was worried about you after what happened in Pennsylvania."
I shrugged, and looked away. "All's well that ends well."
"Strange forces were at work up there."
I stared at the floor, not wanting to look into his eyes. He was fishing. Trying to figure out what had happened when I attempted to rescue Armani from her kidnappers. It was safer that he didn't know.
