Maggie Lee (Book 11): The Hitwoman Hires a Manny

by Lynn, JB

  “Loretta’s fussy fiancé?” Angel’s voice practically squeaked with disbelief.

  I nodded. “Lots of surprises with Templeton.”

  Talking about him made me think of Rivgali and the potential threat. I frowned.

  “You don’t like him?” Angel asked.

  Before I had to answer, Susan cracked open a window and rang a ceramic bell, a gentle tinkling carried across the evening air.

  “Dinner’s ready,” I told Angel. I ushered the dog into the basement, closing the doors behind her, and accompanied Angel to the kitchen entrance. “Don’t be shy about eating. You’ll insult Susan.”

  “Is she a good cook?” he whispered, opening the door, waiting for me to walk through ahead of him.

  “She’s a great cook,” I assured him, taking care not to accidentally brush against him as I walked past.

  Susan was carving the chicken as we walked into the dining room. No one else was there.

  “When did that fence go up?” I asked.

  Susan looked up at me, surprised by the random question. “Fence?”

  “The one in the back.”

  Susan frowned. “That’s been there forever. The monstrosity was your father’s idea. He insisted on it.”

  A chill snaked down my spine. Had he too had a reason to want to erect a barrier between us and Belgard? My mother had already told me that he hadn’t trusted the man.

  “I was just trying to remember when it went up,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light.

  “While the house was still full.”

  From the way she stabbed at the chicken, I assumed that meant before my mother had become a permanent resident of the loony bin.

  Deciding it would be safest for all involved, I changed the subject. “Where is everyone?”

  She shrugged and waved the carving knife, dripping with bits of meat and juice for emphasis. “Loretta and Templeton are at The Corset, probably performing some carnal sin; Leslie had a meeting with her N.A. sponsor; and Marlene’s off with Doc, probably practicing mouth-to-mouth.”

  I glanced at Angel. His expression was neutral, but I’m pretty sure he was amused by how my aunt described my family’s whereabouts. But like me, he was smart enough to keep an arm’s length away from the blade slicing through the air.

  I felt compelled to explain, “My sister Marlene is dating Doc, a paramedic.” I didn’t tell him that Doc was also a male stripper and that Marlene had spent years working as a prostitute.

  Angel nodded. He flashed a calming smile at Susan. “Everything looks delicious.”

  Appeased, Susan plunged the knife back into the bird. “I hope you brought your appetite.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “The three of us will have a lovely dinner,” Susan declared, but before we could sit down, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it.” I hurried to answer the door, through the very foyer where Paul had tried to kill me.

  I threw open the door without peering through the peep hole, which in retrospect was pretty dumb considering I was worried about Rivgali appearing on the doorstep.

  Thankfully it wasn’t an ex-con. It was a U.S. Marshal.

  Specifically, U.S. Marshal Larry Griswald, Susan’s boyfriend.

  Since he’d come to the front door instead of the kitchen door, I assumed he was at the B&B on official business. A knot formed in my stomach as I summoned a semblance of a smile for the older man. “Agent Griswald.”

  “Ms. Lee,” he greeted just as formally, confirming my fear.

  “Now what has he done?” I asked weakly, knowing that the federal agent was there about my father.

  “May we come in?” Griswald asked politely.

  I could have sworn that he stressed the ‘we’ slightly, warning me that he wasn’t alone.

  I nodded my understanding and beckoned him inside. “We were just sitting down to dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

  Griswald, followed by a baby-faced guy who looked too young to carry a badge, stepped inside. “That’s a kind offer, but we’ll have to decline.”

  I thought it was telling that Griswald hadn’t bothered to introduce his cohort, so I kept my attention on the older man waiting for him to explain his arrival.

  “The gravy’s going to congeal if you don’t come in soon,” Susan announced as she rushed into the foyer. She stopped in her tracks when she spotted Griswald. “Lawrence.”

  He nodded at her before turning his attention back to me.

  I could see that Susan was insulted by the slight, but I begged her with my eyes to stay silent about it. I trusted that Griswald had a good reason for playing things so close to the vest and I didn’t want her to blow it.

  Susan bit her lower lip, shook her head, and stalked away, muttering, “Dinner’s getting cold.”

  “And apparently congealing,” I said once she was out of earshot.

  The younger guy glared at me. I smiled sweetly back. I’d faced down deadly mobsters. I ate rule-loving feds for breakfast.

  At least that’s what I told myself.

  I looked to Griswald. “How can I help you gentlemen?”

  “We’re looking for Templeton,” Griswald announced.

  I blinked my surprise, shocked that the visit wasn’t about my dad.

  “Is he here?” Young Buck asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Do you know where he is?”

  I considered my answer carefully. Technically I didn’t know where he was, though I had a pretty good idea that Aunt Susan was right and he could be found at The Corset. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell this annoying marshal that.

  “Or do you know where he might be?” Griswald prompted, as though he’d read my thoughts and knew I was considering misleading them.

  “He might be with my aunt,” I admitted grudgingly.

  The younger man leaned in menacingly, glowering at me. “Where?”

  I met his gaze steadily, letting him know I wasn’t so easily intimidated.

  Griswald let out a sigh of exasperation. “Maggie?”

  Transferring my gaze to him, I noticed he looked tired. I wondered if working with the obnoxious new partner was wearing him down. “I’ll take you to him.”

  Griswald nodded his gratitude.

  “But first,” I said, “I’m telling Susan I’m leaving. If she thinks I’ve run out on this feast she’s prepared I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “By all means,” Griswald encouraged. “We’ll wait here.”

  I hurried into the dining room where Angel was chowing down and Susan was pushing food around her plate.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said, grabbing one of the homemade buttermilk biscuits.

  Angel looked at me curiously.

  My aunt threw her napkin on the table. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to piss off the nice U.S. Marshals.”

  I thought I saw Angel tense at the mention of the lawmen, but his expression remained neutral.

  Susan put her napkin back in her lap. “What do they want?”

  “How should I know?” I had my ideas, which included illegal poker games with known criminals and a just-released ex-con who had it in for him, but I didn’t see how sharing any of that would help the situation.

  “Danger! Run! Run! Danger! Hide!” DeeDee began to bark frantically from inside the basement.

  Susan threw up her hands in disgust. “Things aren’t bad enough? Now the dog is carrying on?”

  “Danger! Run! Run! Danger! Hide!” DeeDee continued, her bark hitting a shrill pitch that made her sound insane.

  “Something’s wrong,” I muttered, running toward the kitchen.

  “I never wanted that dog here,” Susan yelled after me.

  Yanking open the basement door, I was almost knocked over by a blurry ball of crazed canine.

  “Run!” DeeDee whined, a wild look in her eyes.

  Somehow I managed to grab her collar, yanking her to a halt.

  “What’s wrong, swee
tie?” I dropped to my knees so that I was eye-level with her.

  “Fire,” she whimpered pitifully. “Run.” She tried to pull away from my grasp.

  I sniffed the air. I didn’t smell smoke. I wondered if God had somehow tortured her into believing something was burning.

  “It’s okay,” I soothed.

  But at that moment, the young marshal, burst into the kitchen, gun drawn. “Freeze.”

  His dramatic arrival further traumatized poor DeeDee, who’d been shot once before and almost died. She collapsed to the ground, a crying, quivering mess.

  The marshal aimed his gun at her.

  “Do not shoot my dog,” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Forgetting my own safety, and maybe my sanity, I jumped between the lawman and the Doberman. Heart pounding, adrenaline pumping, I was ready to rip the weapon from his hands. “Who the hell do you think you are, scaring her like that?”

  The marshal looked around, unsure of what to do.

  “Put that away,” I yelled.

  Griswald, followed closely by Angel and Susan, burst into the kitchen.

  “Put. It. Away,” I continued to bellow.

  “Put it away, Browley,” Griswald ordered, slowly moving toward us. “Take a breath, Maggie. Nobody’s going to get hurt.”

  As I looked from one man to the other, Piss purred, “Actually someone might if you don’t do something about the fire.”

  Whirling around, I saw that she’d sneaked out of the basement and was kneading the back of the terrified dog.

  “It’s real?” I asked.

  The cat wiggled her whiskers. “Sugar, I’m the one with the messed up face, but even I can smell it.”

  “Is what real, Margaret?” Susan asked, her voice cracking with concern.

  I wanted to tell her that unlike her sister, my mother, I wasn’t quite ready for a rubber room yet, but there wasn’t time. Instead I looked at the animals. “Show me.”

  They both leapt up and headed for the door that led outside. I followed and threw it open for them.

  “Where are you going?” Browley asked.

  “Come back,” Susan begged.

  I raced outside after the animals, who were headed to the front of the house.

  Due to the direction the wind was blowing, I saw the fire before I saw the smoke.

  When I rounded the corner and saw the circle of flames in the center of the front yard, I jerked to a stop. For a second I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. It hadn’t been that long ago that I’d almost died in a forest fire. Now this. Was it some kind of sign that I was going to hell?

  “Fire!” a voice roared from behind me, interrupting my bizarre thoughts. “Fire! Call 9-1-1.”

  Angel dashed past me.

  “The hose is over here,” I yelled to him.

  “Dirt’s better.” To illustrate, he ripped open one of Aunt Susan’s newly purchased bags of topsoil and dumped its contents on the flames closest to the house.

  I was grabbing for the nearest bag when it was ripped from my hands.

  “Let me.” Browley tossed the bag to Angel, who quickly used it to put out more of the fire.

  Griswald joined Angel at the fire’s edge. Together the four of us managed to extinguish the flames closest to the house, but the rest of the ring still burned.

  Aunt Susan ran over with the garden hose, but as Angel had predicted, it was less effective. Still, we managed to keep it at bay until the fire department arrived.

  With the right equipment, they were able to put the rest of the fire out. As they did, and I was no longer distracted by the crackling heat, I tried to identify the charred three-foot tall statue that stood in the center of the circle.

  I looked past the smoldering embers and the rising smoke, trying to focus.

  “Is that a mouse?” Susan asked, looking at the figure.

  I shook my head. It wasn’t a mouse.

  It was a rat.

  Which had to mean Templeton was in trouble.

  Chapter Ten

  I turned to Griswald. “We should go get him.”

  “He’s too hot to handle, dear,” Susan said.

  Spinning around, I gaped at her. “What?”

  She pointed to the rat statue. “He’s probably quite hot.”

  Relieved she wasn’t suddenly lusting over her sister’s fiancé, I focused on Griswald again.

  He smiled gently. “Wash your face and change your clothes first.”

  “But--” I protested.

  He shook his head. “If you show up looking like that you could scare your Aunt Loretta.”

  “He’s right.” Susan patted my arm. “Freshen up.”

  Realizing I couldn’t win the argument, I whirled to head back inside the B&B.

  “But bring the animals inside first,” my aunt ordered.

  Looking around, I saw DeeDee at the far corner of the lot.

  I whistled and she came running, startling a few firemen in the process.

  “Inside,” I told her. “And where’s Piss?”

  “Right here, Sugar,” she meowed, revealing that she was waiting beside me.

  I scooped her up. While she squirmed as though she didn’t like the attention, she also rubbed the top of her head against my chin.

  “And give them extra treats,” Susan suggested softly, her eyes filling with tears at the devastation of the front lawn. “If they hadn’t warned us…” She trailed off and looked at her beloved B&B.

  “I thought you didn’t want the dog here,” I teased gently.

  She offered me a watery smile. “Give them some of the chicken that’s on the table.”

  I nodded. Carrying the cat, I headed back inside.

  The dog was already in the basement, regaling the lizard with a grammatically incorrect version of the events that had transpired, when carrying some bird and a feline, I descended the stairs.

  “Hungry,” DeeDee whined, the moment she realized I was carrying food.

  I plopped the cat onto the couch before putting some of the chicken into her bowl and giving the rest to the dog to devour.

  “I’ve got to go get Templeton,” I announced to no one in particular.

  “Take me,” God decreed, his booming voice echoing off the glass of his enclosure.

  “Okay.” I stepped toward the terrarium.

  He flicked his tail like he was holding up a stop sign. “You’re filthy.”

  Rolling my eyes, I changed direction and headed for the bathroom. Once there I saw why everyone wanted me to clean up. My face and shirt were both streaked with a lot of soil. I shook my head, remembering for a moment about how my dad had always teased me when I was a kid about being a dirt magnet. Staring at my reflection, I had to admit he was right.

  After I’d made myself presentable, I tucked the lizard into my bra and went in search of my favorite marshal.

  Griswald, Susan, and Angel were all sitting on the front porch watching Browley, a uniformed cop, and another man wearing a windbreaker jacket examine the area the fire had scorched.

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “Arson investigator,” Griswald replied.

  “Like it’s a question whether or not the fire was deliberate?” I mocked.

  “Don’t be flippant,” Susan scolded.

  Griswald got to his feet. “Ready?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m leaving Browley here to keep an eye on things,” Griswald told me.

  I frowned. I didn’t much like the idea of the man who’d frightened DeeDee being left alone.

  “I’ll make sure nothing happens to the dog,” Angel said quietly as though he’d read my thoughts.

  I shot him a grateful smile, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off the three men examining the burnt circle.

  “My car or yours?” I asked as Griswald reached my side.

  “Yours.”

  Nodding, I led him to my car. I’d forgotten that the passenger seat was covered with paperwork from the hospital. Gathering it up so that he’d have a plac
e to sit, I dumped it haphazardly into the backseat, which was already occupied by a large cardboard box that contained a car seat for Katie, that I had yet to install.