Maggie Lee (Book 17): The Hitwoman Takes A Road Trip

by JB Lynn

  Armani started to hyperventilate.

  “Are you going to puke?” I asked, trying to focus the majority of my attention on driving.

  “No,” Piss wheezed between gales of hacking laughter.

  Armani moaned.

  Glancing in the mirror I saw she’d covered her mouth with her hand, gagging.

  “Are you going to puke?” I asked worriedly.

  “I’m a sympathetic vomiter,” she admitted miserably. “Pull over.”

  “I can’t pull over. I’ll lose Zeke.”

  “But—”

  “The cat’s not going to puke, so there’s no reason for you to do anything, sympathetic or otherwise.”

  “You don’t know that.” The accusation was muffled since she still had her hand over her mouth.

  “Sure I do, I asked her and she promised me.”

  Armani lowered her hand. “You’re sure?”

  “Certain.” I yanked the wheel, as ahead of me, Zeke made an unexpectedly sharp turn. “Blinkers! Use your damn blinkers.”

  “Language, Margaret,” God chirped from my chest in an excellent imitation of Aunt Susan.

  “Don’t lose him,” Armani called.

  “A minute ago you wanted me to pull over,” I reminded her.

  “I changed my mind. Getting dinner out of the deal is more important now.”

  We followed Zeke’s Jeep for another ten minutes before he pulled off the main roads into a quiet neighborhood. He rolled into the driveway of a large ranch-style house and parked in one of the three garage spots, leaving the entire driveway for the RV.

  I’d barely put the beast into park when Armani opened the door and awkwardly climbed out of the vehicle muttering something about retching.

  I rested my forehead on the steering wheel, forcing myself to take some deep, calming breaths.

  “You okay, Maggie?” Zeke called from outside the camper.

  “Yup.”

  He stuck his head inside. “Was the ride over here that bad? Armani is looking downright green and you…you look…” He trailed off, unable to come up with words to describe how bad I looked.

  I watched him out of the corner of my eye. “Can I ask you something?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Sure. Anything.”

  “What is it you need help stealing?”

  “Fuzzy dice.”

  I lifted my head to get a better look at him. “Excuse me?”

  “We need to steal a pair of fuzzy dice.”

  I clapped my hand over my mouth to prevent a hysterical giggle from escaping.

  Seeing my amusement, Zeke frowned. “It’s serious business, Maggie.”

  “I’m sure it is,” I managed to chuckle. “I just need a minute. I’ll be inside in a couple.”

  “Okay.” His tone was dubious, but he closed the side door.

  “This is a disaster,” I moaned. “I’m no closer to finding Ian and there’s a good chance Armani is going to get sucked into stealing fuzzy dice.”

  “And the cat’s deserting us,” God reminded me.

  I groaned, leaning back in my seat. “You’re not making me feel better.”

  Piss jumped into my lap and gently swatted my cheek with her paw. “Snap out of it.”

  I blinked at her.

  “I never planned on deserting you, Sugar.”

  “But you want me to take you home,” I argued.

  “You do,” God agreed.

  “I don’t want you to leave me there.” The cat’s entire body shuddered.

  “What do you want?” I asked, thoroughly confused.

  “I want you to kill him.”

  God gasped, and my mouth dropped open as I stared at the cat, dumbfounded by the request.

  “I don’t just go around killing people,” I said defensively.

  “But he deserves it,” Piss argued.

  I didn’t get to ask her who it was she wanted me to kill or why he deserved a violent death, because someone knocked sharply on the outside of the RV.

  “I said I need a minute!” I yelled, irritated by the interruption.

  “Sorry,” a familiar voice, one that didn’t belong to Zeke or Armani, apologized.

  “Off,” I ordered the cat.

  She obeyed, flexing the tips of her claws through my jeans as she leapt from me.

  Jumping out my door, I ran around the camper to get a better look at the person who’d knocked.

  I stared in surprise at him, wondering if he was a mirage.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Dad?”

  “Forget what I look like already, Maggie May?” he joked, patting his belly.

  “I…But…What…” I trailed off, so surprised by his presence that I couldn’t string a simple sentence together. “How?” I managed to get out, pleased the single syllable could be an acceptable sentence.

  “We followed you here. Not too hard considering how big this thing is.” He waved at the RV.

  “We?” God and I asked simultaneously.

  “What’s going on?” Piss demanded on a loud yowl from inside.

  I opened the side door and let her out.

  “We?” I repeated.

  My father pointed to a sports car with tinted windows. “You said you wanted to meet Ian.”

  My gaze ping-ponged between Dad’s face and the car.

  “He’s in there?”

  Dad nodded.

  “How?”

  “I imagine he opened the door and climbed in…though it’s a pretty nifty car, so maybe he just opened a window and did a running jump inside.”

  I scowled, first at him, then at the car.

  “Now that’s no way to make a good first impression, Maggie May.”

  “How is he here? Is he in Witness Protection too?”

  “Of course not, but that reminds me, I don’t have all day. I don’t know what strings your friend the Fed called in, but I’m only allowed off the leash for a couple of hours.”

  “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of protection?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “The less you know, the better off you are.”

  Considering that was a line I’d heard him use on con job victims, I didn’t believe for an instant that he was looking out for my best interest. But there were more immediate concerns, so I dropped the matter. “He’s really in there?”

  Dad chuckled. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  I shrugged. “Coming from you? Yeah. It kind of is.”

  Dad’s face fell and I instantly felt guilty for pointing out that he’s a known liar. I had to bite my lower lip to stop from apologizing.

  “That’s it,” God whispered. “Hold your ground. Don’t let him off the hook.”

  “How did he happen to be at the aquarium?” I pushed.

  “He was waiting for me.”

  “Waiting for you?”

  Dad nodded. “He drove me there for our meeting.”

  “Hang on, you’re not allowed to be in contact with the rest of the family, but you two are hanging out?” I wasn’t sure if I was more hurt or angry by that.

  “We’re not hanging out. We just keep in touch.”

  “Keep in touch?” My voice rose to an outraged shriek.

  “You’re squeaking,” God accused from my chest. “And you’re getting off track. Or did you forget that you actually want to meet your brother?”

  Dad’s eyes widened at the squeaking, but he was wise enough not to say anything about it.

  I took a deep breath and tried to sound calm as I asked, “So why didn’t he go inside the aquarium?”

  Dad glanced at the car and shrugged. “He’s not big on enclosed spaces.”

  “He’s been sitting in a car for hours,” I pointed out.

  “Enclosed spaces with lots of people,” Dad elaborated.

  “Archie!” Armani trilled happily. “You made it. Isn’t this great, Maggie?”

  Turning, I spotted her waving us toward the house with her good arm.

  Dad jerked his thumb in th
e direction of Ian’s car.

  “Bring him too,” Armani replied immediately.

  I glared at her. “You knew about him?” I practically screeched the accusation.

  Armani flinched, holding out her good hand as though I was a demon she had to defend herself against.

  “She didn’t—” Dad began.

  “She can see him, Sugar,” Piss meowed softly. “He’s out of the car.”

  Dropping her hand, Armani stood up a little taller. “He’s kinda hot.” Armani tossed back her hair and gave her best ‘come hither’ smile.

  I turned slowly, not really prepared to meet Ian for the first time. I kept my gaze focused on the ground, deciding it was safer to start at his feet than his face.

  “I must see this,” God declared, scrambling out of my bra and onto my shoulder.

  I winced, realizing that so far Ian’s first impression of me was that I yelled at my friends and was overly fond of reptiles.

  Finally, after examining his sneakers (same brand I wear), jeans, and t-shirt (for a band I’ve seen in concert three times), I took a deep breath and lifted my gaze to his face.

  A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, drawing attention to his dark eyes that were just as wary of my own. And yet there was something familiar about him. He reminded me of someone I knew. Not my sisters, or my parents. Someone else.

  I cocked my head to the side, examining him.

  Neither of us made a move to greet the other. Instead, we stood there, each studying the person who could be our sibling.

  Ian crossed his arms over his chest and a bolt of recognition punched me in the sternum. I let out an involuntary gasp.

  Ian’s gaze narrowed. I shifted uncomfortably.

  “Do you see it?” I whispered to God out of the corner of my mouth.

  Ian’s eyes narrowed even more, wondering why I was talking to myself.

  “See what?” God asked. “The guy standing right in front of us?”

  Ian’s eyes widened at the squeaking noise. He closed the distance between us with a few long strides and opened his mouth to speak.

  I gave him an apologetic smile, held up one finger to indicate I needed a minute, and turned around so that my back was to him. “Do you see the resemblance?” I whispered to God.

  “Resemblance? All you creatures look exactly alike to me,” God scoffed.

  “I smell it,” Piss meowed, her whiskers twitching.

  The lizard leaned over so that he could get a better look at her on the ground. “Smell what?”

  “Angel,” the cat replied.

  “Angel’s here too?” God asked in amazement.

  “No, you know-it-all blowhard,” Piss said crossly. “He smells like Angel.”

  “And looks like him too,” I muttered under my breath, remembering how Delveccio had once told me that he too had been in love with my mother a long time ago.

  I spun back around, almost tripping over the cat, and causing God to lose his grip on my shirt.

  “Aaaaah!” the lizard screamed as he fell toward the ground.

  I tried to catch him, but I wasn’t quick enough.

  In the instant before he hit the ground, another hand appeared, and he landed in an outstretched palm.

  “At least someone isn’t trying to kill me,” God huffed indignantly. “Do you have any idea what that kind of fall would do to my sensitive skin?”

  “What would it do to your yammering trap?” Piss asked. “Shut it permanently?”

  “Shhh,” I admonished automatically as I realized that the hand that had caught God belonged to none other than Ian, who apparently had amazing reflexes.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, holding out my cupped hands so that the lizard could climb over to me.

  “Yes, thank you,” God agreed in his most superior tone. “I know Maggie’s been rude to you, but you’ve still behaved like a gentleman and for that I’m grateful.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ian said softly, looking down at the lizard.

  For a moment I had the weirdest feeling that he was responding to the animal instead of me, but then God climbed onto my hands and up to my shoulder.

  “Hi,” his savior said, holding out his now empty hand to me. “I’m Ian.”

  “Maggie,” I said, shaking his hand. I half-expected to experience some sort of electrical shock or something, but his grip was warm and solid. “But you probably already knew that.”

  He grinned. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I glanced over at Dad who was watching our exchange nervously. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” I warned Ian.

  Ian shrugged. “Why not? He’s only told me good stuff about you.”

  “Then you have me at a disadvantage because he’s told me nothing about you,” I admitted.

  “It was safer that way,” Ian replied easily.

  “What does that mean?”

  Ian looked to Dad. “I’m not one hundred percent sure. It’s just what I was always told.”

  Annoyed by the non-answer, I asked testily, “And what’s changed now?”

  “Now things are too dangerous for any of us to remain silent.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Everything okay, Maggie?” Zeke asked.

  I was startled to find him standing beside me, having never noticed him emerge from the house.

  His expression as he looked at Ian was guarded.

  “Um, yeah,” I said awkwardly. “Zeke, this is Ian. Ian, my friend, Zeke.”

  “The I?” Zeke didn’t try to hide his surprise.

  “Yes,” I sighed. “The I.”

  Ian blinked, confused. “The, I?”

  “From the séance?” Zeke pressed.

  I nodded.

  “Impressive, right?” Armani limped toward us, batting her eyelashes at poor Ian, who looked entirely befuddled by the conversation.

  “Armani’s a psychic,” I tried to explain.

  “And a matchmaker.” She held out her good hand to Ian. “In fact, I’m the proud owner of PMS.”

  Ian froze in the midst of shaking her hand, pulling a deer in headlights at the mere mention of PMS.

  “Psychic Matchmaking Service,” I hurried to explain.

  Zeke chuckled. “Told you the name is off-putting to half your clientele.”

  Dropping Ian’s hand, she tossed her hair and muttered, “And I told you, I don’t need clientele.”

  Feeling sorry for Ian, who seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by what was really a pretty standard exchange in my life, I looked around for my dad, hoping that he, of all people, could insert some normalcy into the conversation.

  He was nowhere to be seen.

  “Did he disappear again?”

  “Who?” Zeke asked.

  “My dad.”

  “Archie was here?” He looked to Armani for confirmation. Clearly not trusting my grip on reality.

  She nodded.

  “How’d he get here?” he asked her.

  “The bodacious bro drove him.” She smiled at Ian, no doubt proud of herself for coming up with that label for him.

  His response was to take a reflexive step backward.

  Afraid he too was going to bolt, I reached out and put my hand on his elbow, like that small motion could stop a grown man in his tracks.

  Piss did her part by wending between his ankles, meowing, “Stay. I really don’t want to have to trip you, but I will.”

  He tensed and I wondered if he was allergic to cats or something.

  “There’s no need to threaten him,” God lectured. “You’ve only just met.”

  Ignoring the animals, I smiled tightly at Zeke and Armani. “Could you guys give us a couple of minutes?”

  “Sure,” Zeke agreed immediately.

  Armani seemed less willing to comply.

  I glared at her and said through gritted teeth, “Please.”

  “We’ll go inside,” Zeke said, draping an arm around Armani’s shoulders and physically guiding her back toward th
e house.

  Feeling some of Ian’s tension abate as they moved away, I let my hand fall away from his arm.

  Piss pranced away a couple of steps, but I noticed that she positioned herself between Ian and his car, no doubt ready to knock him off his feet if needed.

  “Don’t bother ringing the bell. Just come in whenever you’re ready,” Zeke called over his shoulder as he propelled Armani through the door and shut it.

  “Sorry about that. I know they can be a bit overwhelming if you’re not accustomed to them.”

  “You mean you can get used to that?” Ian joked lightly.

  I shrugged. “On a scale of one to ten measuring the craziness of my life, that little exchange was a one.”

  Ian shook his head. “Wow. I guess I’ve lived a sheltered existence.”

  Realizing I knew nothing about the life of the man I stood beside, I looked around again for my father, but he hadn’t magically reappeared.

  “Uncle Archie does that a lot around me,” Ian soothed. “There one minute, gone the next.”

  I offered him a sympathetic smile as I processed the fact he called my dad ‘uncle’. “Not just around you. It’s pretty much how he treats everyone.”

  “But he always comes back.”

  I nodded slowly, unwilling to admit to this virtual stranger that I often wished that my dad would just stay gone.

  “Do you mind if we walk and talk?” Ian asked. “This is awkward enough as it is without standing around staring at each other not knowing what to say.”

  “Of course,” I agreed with a nervous chuckle.

  “What’s your cat’s name?”

  “Piss.”

  He glanced over at me sharply. “Piss?”

  Realizing how terrible that sounded, I hurried to explain, “Well, that’s what the vet I rescued her from called her and she’s refused to tell me what her real name is.” I glared accusingly at the cat for having put me in the uncomfortable situation.

  Her only response was to hold up her paw and lick it, like she’d never been so bored in all of her life.

  “Oh that sounded much better,” God mocked from my shoulder.

  “And what’s the lizard’s name?” Ian asked.

  “Godzilla,” I responded automatically, “but he prefers to go by God.”

  Ian chuckled. “Of course he does.”

  I was surprised to hear genuine amusement in his laugh and not a drop of judgment. Encouraged, I added, “And there’s a Doberman pinscher waiting for us at home. Here name is DeeDee.”