The Laundry Hag's New Year's Clean-Up

by Jennifer L. Hart

  I was beneath the front bumper, when I heard a woman shout, “What do you mean you let her go?”

  It was Mrs. Swenson. The hostess. She was robbing her own house during her own party?

  “How the hell was I supposed to know she’d fling herself off the snowmobile?” Derek bitched. “We need to get the hell out of here, now.”

  “You had one job. One. I let you stay in that pool house for weeks to make sure the signal jammer stayed active until the van left. And now you’re telling me that not only did you leave the cellphone jammer unattended, you shot at some random woman and then let her go?” Her tone was incredulous.

  “If we go now, we’ll be in the next state before the cops get here,” Derek insisted.

  “I’m not supposed to leave. I am supposed to be in there being the victim.” She threw the hand not holding the revolver up in disgust. “I don’t even know if they have everything on the list. If we don’t get it all now, his lawyer will eat me alive in the divorce. Especially if they find out about you. That prenup is ironclad.”

  Divorce. Prenup. It hit me like a lightning bolt. She was stealing her own stuff before filing for divorce from Mr. Swenson. Or before he found out about her affair with Derek. Derek said one of the Swenson’s knew he was staying in the pool house. I’d thought it was the son, Graham but apparently Mrs. Swenson was a cougar on the prowl. The thieves had mostly ignored the more portable valuables because they were working off her specifications. She’d arranged the entire thing. It even explained Amber’s presence. Amber was the one who’d done time, who had connections to the criminals to make the theft look like a robbery.

  “It’s not worth it. It’s just stuff.” Derek sounded anxious. “And just what do you plan to do with them?”

  He must have been asking about the two sets of male feet. An uneasy feeling took root in my gut. I risked sliding further out from under the van, trying to get a peek at the men with Mrs. S.

  Leo and Neil, with their hands raised above their heads. Leo just looked scared but my husband’s expression was pinched, as if he were in pain and trying to hide it. His right arm wasn’t nearly as high as his left. Probably that old rotator cuff injury.

  I hoped that was his only injury. It didn’t look like he’d been shot.

  Mrs. Swenson’s grip on her gun tightened. “We don’t have a choice. We have to get rid of them.”

  Derek froze. I guess it was one thing to literally shoot in the dark at yours truly, another to execute bound men. “Maybe there’s another way.”

  “They’ve seen your face. And mine. We’ll spend the rest of our lives in prison.”

  Neil’s hazel eyes were scanning the area. I knew my husband well enough to know he was assessing his surroundings, sizing up the situation, making a mental list of the tasks he needed to complete his objective. Sizing up his opponents for weaknesses.

  Though he’d never told me specifics, I knew my husband had been up against worse odds. But he had been more prepared, with an entire SEAL team to provide backup, instead of his inept wife.

  My knuckles turned white where they were holding onto the stock of the rifle. Even with my furtive grip, the barrel shook. Sure, I’d been target shooting a time or two but damn it, a paper target was much different than a human being. I’d seen one shot before, seen him die. And that had been an accident.

  Was I ready for this?

  One look at my husband and bestie and the folks who’d been threatening to off them and I knew that yes, I could. And I would go home to my infant daughter, kiss her on her tiny, perfect forehead and figure out a way to live with the consequences.

  But the moral strain was only one part of it. I’d been to the range half a dozen times. If pressed, I could probably hit the broad side of a barn, but not much else. No way did I trust my aim with Neil and Leo standing so close to my targets.

  There were the other people to think about as well. All the Swenson’s guests, lying on the floor on the opposite side of the van. The guy with the Long Island accent, Amber and George and however many other villains were armed and roaming around this place, armed and deadly. Even if my luck was stellar and I somehow managed to take out Derek and Mrs. S without maiming Leo and Neil, I couldn’t subdue them all on my own.

  I needed to get Neil free. He had the mind for strategy, the aim, the ruthlessness, all the things I lacked. Mrs. S and her boytoy were still arguing about what to do with Neil and Leo. Leo had hunched in on himself, as though trying to melt into the floor.

  Help me.

  The entreaty was open ended, to anyone who was currently in a position to help us.

  Neil didn’t answer directly. Not that I was surprised, since we’d never been one of those couples who could read each other’s minds. He hadn’t spotted me, wasn’t offering up any particular plan. No, my stupid, heroic husband was staring straight up, his gaze fixed on something directly above him. I craned my neck to see what had snagged his attention. Nothing different from when we came in that I could see. Just the chandelier dangling lewdly over the fountain.

  I frowned. The chandelier of the enormous male member. Even if I didn’t bring it down on their heads a la Phantom of the Opera, it would be one hell of a diversion.

  I huffed out a breath just as Derek kowtowed with a sigh. “Oh, all right.”

  Now or never. I aimed, dislodged the safety and fired.

  Neil

  THE SECOND I HEARD the first gunshot, I flung myself into Leo and we rolled in a heap down the stairs. I didn’t know who was shooting or what their target was, only that we were at a serious disadvantage in an upright position.

  “You okay?” I rolled, my hands still bound behind me. My rotator cuff screamed at the position. I ignored it and focused on the civilian. For his part, Leo appeared dazed and frightened but relatively unharmed.

  Above us, glass shattered and the light from the chandelier went out. Someone was shooting at the balls. Glass rained down across the foyer floor as the penis chandelier rocked under the onslaught. Later, I’d be sure to laugh at the absurdity. At the first shot, Derek had taken off like a spooked deer, darting for the front door and leaving Mrs. Swenson behind. She stood rooted to the stairs in her evening gown. One gloved hand still held her handgun. Screams echoed from the ballroom, chaos erupting.

  “We need to get to cover,” I shouted to Leo. Each shot echoed off the limestone. I couldn’t tell what direction the shots were coming from, but the only course of action was to get to a more secure position.

  “Where?” Leo’s gaze was wild.

  I scanned the area. The door Derek had exited through was on the far side of the fountain. The van was closer and with any luck, it was still functional.

  “The van,” I told him. “Stay low.”

  He took me at my word. Instead of getting to his feet and running, he rolled down the last few steps and underneath the van.

  “No,” I heaved over to one side and got to my feet. No rolling with my shoulder the way it was. “In, the van, not under it.”

  Another shot whizzed past my head and took out the front headlight. I didn’t need to look to know that my call had reminded Mrs. Swenson of my presence and with Derek gone, she had to do the deed herself.

  The hell with staying low. I sped toward the van, diving inside the open door. I couldn’t worry about Leo yet. I needed to get my hands free. Someone shouted my name but I didn’t look around, too focused on my goal.

  A shot took me in the same damn shoulder an instant before I reached the opened door. The impact carried me forward and with my hands bound I couldn’t catch or control the fall. I hit the floor of the van face first, felt a crunch as my nose bore the brunt of it.

  Blood streamed down my face and if I thought my shoulder hurt badly before, it was nothing compared to the burn from the bullet wound.

  “You,” Mrs. Swenson swooped toward me like Cruella De Vil. The handgun wobbled in her grip, but it was pointed directly at me. The hit might have been lucky, but she’d slo
wed me down and closed the distance with a steady purpose, satin shoes crunching over glass.

  I rolled to one side, still trying to get away and knowing that whatever I managed between now and when the madwoman who’d been robbing her own home reached me, it was too little too late.

  “Sorry, Maggie,” I whispered.

  And then as if in a dream, I saw her. She didn’t move with grace or elegance, but scrambled up to her feet from under the van, putting herself between Mrs. Swenson and me.

  “Stay where you are,” my wife barked and leveled the barrel of her assault rifle on the woman. “Drop the gun and tell your goons it’s over.”

  Mrs. Swenson blinked as though unable to believe her eyes.

  “I said drop it,” Maggie lifted the rifle higher. The kickback of the thing would knock her on her ass, but not before blowing a hole through her target. “Bitch, you just shot my husband and ruined my New Year’s Eve. Do not frigging tempt me because so help me God, I will kill you.”

  Mrs. Swenson stared at her for a beat. The woman in the orange t-shirt, wearing socks on her hands who held her at gunpoint.

  Then the handgun clattered to the floor.

  I wanted to close my eyes, but didn’t dare.

  “Now what?” Maggie hissed out of the side of her mouth.

  It took me a moment to realize she was speaking to me. Though everything on my body hurt, I struggled to my feet. “March her into the other room at gunpoint and have the other guys lay down their arms.”

  “You heard him,” Maggie barked in her Dirty Harry tone. “Move your bony ass.”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was enjoying herself.

  Mrs. Swenson took a tentative step.

  My wife kept her in her sights, using the woman as a human shield as she limped forward. “Tell them it’s over,” she said. “Tell them to put down their weapons.”

  Mrs. Swenson did. And then there was the clattering of many assault rifles hitting the ground.

  Her team of thieves weren’t trained, weren’t willing to risk their lives for whatever their payday should have been.

  “Tie them up,” Maggie ordered someone.

  “With what?” A man asked.

  “Shoelaces, a tie. I don’t really give a rat’s ass. Get creative.”

  There was some shuffling and thumping.

  “Her, too.” Maggie ordered.

  “What? I didn’t do anything wrong.” That was Amber’s voice, playing the victim, as she did so well.

  “Don’t get me started.” Maggie said.

  It sounded like she had everything in hand. I tried to follow, but lost my balance and went down. The world was fuzzing around the edges.

  “Leo,” Maggie’s voice quavered. “Get Neil.”

  I knew she was worried about me, knew that I was distracting her at a time where she couldn’t afford to have her attention pulled away from the task at hand. “I’m fine.”

  “Shut up,” she barked. Then added in a lower tone, “Big damn hero.”

  Arms went around me. Leo had gotten free somehow. Of course, he’d gone under the van, to where Maggie had been holed up. “I’ve got him.”

  “If you die, I’ll kill you. You hear me, Slick? And you saw what I did to those balls.”

  “Better them than me.” My vision tunneled and I passed out.

  Chapter Ten

  Midnight-ish

  Maggie

  “He said his name was Derek,” I said to the police officer, my mind not really on his question. “Twenty something, brown hair, gray eyes, horrible shot.”

  “You said he took off on foot?”

  The snowmobile was still parked where Derek had left it, by the front door. “Unless he stole a car. I was a little busy at the time.”

  I sat on the bumper of an ambulance, one of three that had arrived. Though the freckle faced medic had wanted to check my knee, I’d insisted that she join the others in helping Neil. As if more people would make him unshot somehow.

  All around us, blue and red lights flashed as emergency personnel swarmed over the Swenson estate like ants after a hard rain. I still hadn’t stopped shaking, was keeping my hands tucked beneath my armpits as the adrenaline fled my body.

  Leo stood off to the side, his hands gesticulating wildly as he gave his statement to a patrolman. I was angry with Leo, and not just because he’d dragged us to the stupid party. No, coming to the party had been my call and I had to live with the knowledge that Neil had gotten hurt because of it. But my friend’s heavy drinking and erratic behavior had exacerbated everything. I had a few, not so nice words to say to him later.

  “She did it for stuff,” I watched Mrs. Swenson being led to a nearby police car. Amber was already seated within.

  “Ma’am?” The patrolmen appeared young, maybe the same age as Derek. He had big dark eyes, like a Disney drawing, framed by thick, dark lashes. His accent was Southie, his heritage Italian.

  “She had this house, a ton of money, and friends. Her life looked so perfect. And she threw it all away for some paintings and a young guy she was boning.”

  “People are messed up,” Southie cop shrugged.

  “We got him,” A tall uniformed policewoman straightened from where she had been hunched down over her radio. “Found him out on the highway, trying to hitchhike.”

  I let out a sigh. The last loose end. Now I could fall apart as I so badly wanted to do.

  Neil was being loaded onto a gurney. He made a sound of protest.

  “I need to go with my husband.” I stood, wincing as my jacked-up knee bore half my not so insubstantial weight. I had to release the grip I had on the orange shirt, to balance myself.

  “A detective will be in touch.” The uniformed officer reached out to steady me.

  “Maggie,” Leo moved to my side. “Here, let me help.”

  Even though I was angry with him, I appreciated the physical support. Gritting my teeth, I allowed him to help me across the gravel drive to where Neil was being loaded into the back of the ambulance.

  “Is he going to be alright?” I choked on the words, my heart lodged in my throat.

  The freckle faced medic helped support my other side. “It’s a through and through wound to the trapezius muscle. It’s too soon to tell but it doesn’t look like the bullet hit anything major. You can ride with him if you like. Give me a chance to check that knee.”

  At my nod, she clambered up into the back of the ambulance. With Leo pushing from behind and her pulling, they got me inside. Freckles jumped down with ease and headed back into the fray, leaving us alone.

  “Maggie, I—”

  I shook my head, not in the mood for an apology or an explanation. “Go home, Leo. Tell Laura and Ralph and the kids what happened. Have them meet us at the hospital.”

  He swallowed visibly, then backed away.

  A hand reached out and wrapped around my own. “A little rough on him, weren’t you?”

  I glanced down to find Neil’s hazel gaze fixed on me. “You’re awake.”

  “Didn’t want to miss kissing my girl at midnight.”

  A sob broke free, followed by another.

  “Hey. Uncle Scrooge. Come here.” Though it should have been impossible with him flat on his back, he somehow pulled me into his arms. “It’s okay. You did it. You saved the day.”

  I shook my head against his shoulder. “I did no such thing.”

  “Maggie,” he began.

  “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “It’s all my fault.”

  “Is not.”

  “Is too.”

  In the distance, fireworks boomed out as Boston rang in the New Year.

  “Shut up and kiss me, Uncle Scrooge.”

  Lips trembling, I did. It may not have been the most romantic lip-lock in the history of love, but it was raw and honest, full of need, relief and utter gratitude.

  It was a New Year and we had a fresh start.

  “Happy New Year, Maggie.” Neil murmured low. “It’s off to
a great start.”

  I wiped my eyes. “Great? Are you high?”

  He shrugged. “We’re together. That qualifies as great in my book.”

  My lips parted as a protest bubbled up, but I swallowed it. “Yeah, it is pretty great. Promise you’ll stick around for the entire year?”

  He pulled our linked hands over his heart. “This one, and all the ones to come. I see you, Uncle Scrooge.”

  “Back atcha, Slick. Let’s get you patched up and go home to recover.”

  “That,” Neil said with a grin. “Sounds like the best plan you’ve had all year.”

  “I’m just getting started.” I murmured as they shut the ambulance door on us.

  ~The End ~

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