The Hitwoman Takes A Road Trip (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 17)

by Lynn, JB

  After arranging things with Gladys, I went back inside the RV and called home.

  Aunt Susan picked up on the first ring. “Is that you, Margaret?”

  “The caller I.D. told you it was me,” I reminded her, absentmindedly stroking Piss who’d hopped up on the bed beside me.

  “Where are you?”

  “Maryland.”

  “When are you coming home?” Her voice was stretched thin with tension.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “You Maggie miss I,” DeeDee whined pitifully in the background.

  A massive twinge of guilt for leaving her behind made my stomach ache. I wanted to tell her I missed her too, but I didn’t think that would go over well with Susan.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Susan assured me. “Katie is doing well. Nothing’s wrong.”

  “You sound like something’s wrong,” I pushed.

  “Can’t I just miss you?” Susan asked huffily.

  “It’s only been a couple of days. It’s not like I’ve been gone for months.”

  “You’re not going to be gone for months, are you?”

  I almost laughed at her desperation, but I managed to control myself. “Of course not. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

  She sighed. “It’s the twins.”

  “Which set?” I fervently hoped she was referring to her sisters and not mine.

  “Both.” She squeaked her agitation. “All of them.”

  Realizing this was going to be a longer conversation than I’d anticipated, I got up and refilled the naked lady cup. Sliding into a chair at the table, I grabbed another cookie, telling myself I’d need the fuel to survive the conversation. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Well, first it was Marlene and Darlene.”

  I dunked my cookie, wondering what my sisters had done, but waiting for my aunt to tell me at her own pace.

  “They’re doing that thing where they finish each other’s sentences.”

  “That’s a twin thing,” I reminded her.

  “But I feel like they’re ganging up on me,” Susan wailed.

  I nodded, despite the fact she couldn’t see me. No doubt my sisters were conspiring against her. “About what?”

  “Marlene wants to move out of the B&B.”

  I put my cookie down and sat up straighter. Marlene had run away, become a prostitute, and disappeared from the family for a number of years. We hadn’t had her back for that long and I could understand why Susan wasn’t eager for her to go.

  I also knew that my well-intentioned, but overbearing aunt often rubbed Marlene the wrong way.

  “Where does she want to go?” I asked carefully. “To live with Doc?”

  I liked Marlene’s boyfriend Doc, a paramedic paying for his education by working as a male stripper, but I could understand why the situation might make Susan uncomfortable.

  “Worse,” Susan groaned.

  Considering that I knew that Marlene’s former pimp was dead and gone, I couldn’t imagine what ‘worse’ meant.

  “She wants to move in with Darlene,” Susan practically howled.

  Even though Doberman pinschers don’t howl, I could hear DeeDee doing her best imitation in the background.

  “Is she torturing the beast?” God piped up worriedly.

  “Of course she’s not,” Piss meowed.

  “Marlene wants to move in with Darlene?” I said, more for the animals’ benefit than Susan’s.

  “Yes,” my aunt replied dejectedly.

  “They are twins,” I reminded her again. “It makes sense they’d want to spend time together.”

  “They’re living next door to one another,” Susan groused. “How much more time could they possibly spend together?”

  There was a certain logic to her argument, but I assumed that Marlene’s motivation was more emotional.

  Before I could come up with an answer that might help to smooth over the situation, Susan muttered, “The other pair of she-devils just walked in. Come home soon.”

  “Soon home come!” DeeDee barked excitedly.

  Then Susan hung up on me.

  Which was okay, since someone else was knocking on the RV’s door.

  “It’s open,” I called, too drained from my conversation with Aunt Susan to get up.

  Zeke opened the door and peeked inside. “Is it safe to enter?”

  “At the moment.” I pushed the package of cookies toward him as he climbed inside and took the seat opposite me, banging his knees against mine in the process.

  “I saw your brother was here. Everything okay?”

  I nodded. “Thanks for not barging in while he was here.”

  A strange smile played at his lips. “We may have known each other for most of our lives, but I’m not a member of your family. I don’t run around interrupting and telling you what to do.”

  “I know and I appreciate that.”

  “So things are good between us?” Zeke asked carefully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were pretty mad at me the last time we saw each other at the B&B. You thought I was siding with Darlene over you.” He reached across the table and grabbed my wrist. “I wasn’t, Maggie. I’d never do that.”

  I sighed and patted his hand. “I know. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Releasing me, he leaned back. “You were upset. Darlene’s return—”

  “Turned my life upside down,” I muttered.

  Tilting his head, he asked, “In all fairness, has your life ever been right side up?”

  I laughed.

  “So you’ve got a date with Stern,” he said carefully.

  “It was a distraction technique to get him away from the coffee shop,” I explained. “Besides, I think he can help Ian with something.”

  Zeke frowned. “What does Ian need help with?”

  “Probably safer not to say.” I took a big bite of cookie so that my mouth would be too full to say anything more.

  Zeke shook his head. “You do realize that helping people is what gets you in trouble so often, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “It’s an affliction.”

  “It’s an addiction,” God corrected grumpily.

  “Leave her be,” Piss warned.

  Zeke glanced at the meowing cat. “See? She agrees with me.”

  “I’m still going on the date,” I told him calmly.

  Shaking his head, he stood up to leave. “May it be uneventful.”

  “Like that would ever happen,” God said dryly.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  I did a double-take when I realized where I’d ended up.

  Jack had given me an address, and my GPS had led me to the spot, but I hadn’t expected to end up at a miniature golf course.

  I got out of Zeke’s Jeep slowly. Miniature golf is not one of my favorite activities. I don’t have the hand-eye coordination to be any good at it, I don’t have the patience to stand around waiting for the availability of a “green” and I think whoever designs the courses with bumps and banks and that damn windmill I can never get past on the first shot, is just evil.

  “Maggie!” Jack strode across the parking lot toward me. “You made it.”

  I nodded.

  He surprised me by kissing my cheek. “So what do you think? Fun, right?”

  “Right,” I replied automatically, lacking any conviction.

  He squinted at me. “Not what you were hoping for?”

  I shrugged. “I wasn’t really hoping for anything.”

  “C’mon,” he coaxed, linking his arm through mine. “You’re going to enjoy this more than you think.”

  I let him lead me across the parking lot, suddenly sorry I’d told Ian to show up half an hour after the date had begun and wishing I’d asked him to interrupt within the first five minutes.

  Jack led me down a little boardwalk. We bypassed the entrance for the miniature golf course and kept walking.

  “Where are we going?” I asked a tad apprehensively.
/>   “You’ll see.”

  As we walked I could hear grunts and thuds coming from behind a wall. I glanced up at Jack, wondering what the hell he was leading me into.

  Leading me to a door in the wall, he pushed it open, and stepped aside, ushering me through. “Here we are. Watch your step.”

  I stepped through the doorway, taking care not to trip over the raised sill and blinked against the lights.

  The thudding and grunting were much louder in here. I was glad I’d left God in the RV. He’d have driven me crazy with his commentary.

  It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but then I was able to see we were standing outside a line of batting cages.

  “You don’t seem like the kind of woman who’d enjoy chasing little brightly colored balls over Astro Turf.” Jack grinned at me. “I thought you might enjoy this more. It’s an excellent stress reliever.”

  Relieved, I smiled. “That sounds great. I hate keeping score with those tiny little pencils.”

  Jack chuckled.

  After we’d been outfitted with batting helmets, Jack led the way to the batting cage at the very end of the line.

  “Have you done this before?” Jack asked.

  “Hit something with a bat? Sure.”

  “Recently?”

  Thinking of the fight to save Piss and Benny, I nodded. “More recently than you’d think.”

  Jack nodded his approval as he pushed the door to the cage open. “Ladies first.”

  I slipped under his arm and entered the space.

  “Pick a bat,” he said, pointing to a container near the door.

  I took out one that was blue aluminum and gave it a test swing. It felt a little top heavy.

  “That’s too big for you.” Jack handed me a black bat that was a couple of inches shorter.

  I had trouble wrapping my hands around it.

  “Try another.” He handed me a banged up silver version.

  It was just right.

  Jack gave me a thumbs up. “Ready to hit it out of the park?”

  I nodded and took my position in the batter’s box.

  “Don’t crowd the plate too much,” Jack coaxed. “We’ll start off with some slow pitch softballs. All set?”

  I nodded, staring out in the direction of the mechanical arm.

  The first grapefruit-sized ball was pitched.

  A swing and a miss.

  Same thing with the second. And the third.

  “Choke up on the bat a little,” Jack suggested.

  “What?” I asked, turning around to see what he was talking about.

  “Look out!” he yelled.

  Instinctively I ducked and a ball whizzed over my head.

  “Keep your eye on the ball,” Jack instructed.

  I stared down that mechanical arm like it was the barrel of a gun.

  I swung and missed again at the next pitch.

  “Relax,” Jack whispered in my ear.

  I jumped, startled. I told myself it was because I hadn’t expected him to be so close, and not because his gravelly voice did strange things to me.

  “You want to put some of your weight on your back leg.” He rested his hand on my right hip for emphasis.

  Another pitch came past, but I didn’t swing since I was focused on listening to his hypnotic voice and concentrating on where he was touching me.

  “Then step toward the ball when you swing.”

  I nodded, like I understood, when all I was really thinking about was that he was standing close enough that I could feel his body heat emanating through his leather jacket. I’d forgotten how freaking sexy Jack could be.

  Another ball whizzed past.

  “Bring your hands a little higher up the bat.”

  I did so, hoping that my internal trembling wouldn’t be revealed through my fingers.

  “And swing when I tell you to.” He took a step back. “Got it?”

  I nodded.

  “Swing,” Jack urged.

  I did, barely making contact with the ball, fouling it off to the side.

  “That’s better. Now this time step into it,” Jack instructed.

  I tightened my grip.

  “Swing!”

  I stepped and swung.

  The bat and ball made contact, satisfying contact that reverberated down my arms.

  It may have not been a home run, but it definitely would have made it to the outfield.

  I turned and grinned proudly at Jack.

  He grinned back. “Now you’ve got the hang of it.”

  Hearing the mechanical arm whirl, I pivoted back and readied myself to swing again.

  I hit a series of balls, some more successfully than others. I delighted every time I made a solid connection. I only wished Jack had offered his tutorial before my run-in with Piss’s previous owner. I could have really done some damage to the monster.

  “Last pitch,” Jack warned. “Swing for the bleachers.”

  And I did. I stepped strongly, swung hard, and was rewarded with a resounding crack. The ball arced up through the air.

  “Going, going, gone!” Jack cheered.

  Excited, I dropped the bat and did a little victory dance.

  “You did it!” Jack swept me up into his arms and before I even knew what was happening, he pressed his lips against mine.

  It was a chaste kiss, but it caught me off-guard and left me wanting more.

  Jack, though, was a gentleman, so he quickly put me down and leaned back. “See? Now wasn’t that fun?”

  I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the batting practice or the kiss, but since the answer to both was ‘yes’, I nodded. “Can we do it again?”

  He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether I was referring to the kiss or hitting the ball. “Sure,” he said so slowly it ended up sounding like three syllables. “If that’s what you want.”

  But then I looked past him and realized neither would be happening again anytime soon.

  Sighing, I said, “But first I need you to meet someone.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  I made quick, cursory introductions between Jack and Ian and then immediately removed myself from the vicinity. I’ve got enough secrets of my own, and enough contact with criminal entities. I didn’t need any more.

  Fifteen minutes later, when I was sitting on a bench outside the miniature golf place, finishing eating a strawberry shortcake ice cream bar, Jack went flying past.

  Realizing he’d left me in the dust, he stopped, turned around, raced back, kissed me hard on the lips and said, “I owe you a raincheck.” With that he ran out to his car, never looking back.

  Ian ambled up and sat down beside me. “I thought you didn’t like sweet stuff.”

  I shrugged. “The only salty stuff they had were warm pretzels that looked desiccated. And since this was a date, I’d assumed I would get dinner out of the deal.”

  Ian chuckled.

  “I take it went well.” Finishing the ice cream, I crumpled up the wrapper.

  “Very. Thanks.”

  I leaned my shoulder into his. “That’s what siblings are for.”

  He looked at me, slightly startled by my statement. He jumped to his feet. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for this.”

  With that, he rushed away.

  I winced, realizing that I’d scared him off.

  Mike landed on the seat beside me. He cocked his head to the side and watched me with his gleaming dark eye. “You okay, Doll?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Just a weird night.”

  “Some swing you got there,” he said appreciatively.

  “Thanks.”

  The crow picked at his feathers and said a little too casually, “You heading back to the RV now?”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly.

  “It’s the mouse,” he started slowly.

  “Benny? What happened to him?”

  “Apparently the know-it-all lizard ain’t the only one who doesn’t like vermin.”

  “What do you
mean?”

  “Well, you didn’t tell Armani about him and she may have freaked out a little,” the bird squawked carefully.

  I jumped to my feet and took off even faster than Jack and Ian had.

  When I got back to Zeke’s house, I went straight to the RV, threw open the door and called, “Benny?”

  “He’s traumatized.” God was perched on the kitchen sink faucet.

  “She tried to drown him,” Piss yowled.

  I covered my ears and grit my teeth. I counted to ten before slowly lowering my hands. “God, can you please tell me what happened?”

  Filled with pride for being the chosen one, he lifted his chin and proclaimed loudly, “When Armani saw the mouse, she screamed.”

  “She tried to drown him,” Piss repeated, just meowing her outrage this time.

  “And she tried to drown him,” God agreed. “But in her defense, it was your fault.”

  “My fault?” Piss and I asked simultaneously.

  “Of course it was Maggie’s fault.” He flicked his tail. “First, she didn’t tell Armani about Benny’s arrival and then she left him in a hazardous position.”

  “I left him in the box,” I said.

  “And you left the box in the sink and when Armani saw him, she became frightened and turned the water on.”

  “And tried to drown him,” I said slowly, finally understanding.

  “Luckily, I was here to turn the water off,” Piss declared, glaring at me with her good eye. “Since you’d abandoned us for your date.”

  “I didn’t abandon you,” I argued weakly.

  “Pffft!” The cat turned her back on me and went to sit in the driver’s seat.

  I moved closer to the sink so that I could peer down at Benny. He looked even more pathetic, as soaking wet, he trembled uncontrollably in the corner of the box.

  “Are you cold?” I whispered.

  He didn’t answer me. He wouldn’t even look at me.

  I frowned. “I’m really sorry and I’m sure Armani is really sorry too. You just startled her.”

  “She’s not sorry,” Piss meowed from the front seat.

  Not knowing what else to do for the little mouse, I tore a couple of paper towels up and dropped them into the box.