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The Hitwoman and the Exorcism

Page 9

by J. B. Lynn


  It took a few moments of digging until we heard a clink as one of the blades of the shovels made contact with something other than dirt.

  “Careful,” she said. “If it’s a vessel, we probably don’t want to break it.”

  She held the flashlight while I fell to my knees and began to dig out the rest of it with my bare hands.

  After a moment, I was able to loosen the dirt around it and pull out the skull.

  “Is it the right one?” God asked.

  “The right one?” I asked. “How many skulls do you think are out here?”

  “Hopefully, just the one,” Piss remarked.

  I held it up to the light and found the familiar crack in it. “Yes,” I said with an expert definitiveness, “this is the one.”

  I got to my feet, holding the skull carefully.

  “Here.” RV offered a fabric bag to me.

  “She has thought of everything,” God remarked.

  RV pretended not to hear him. I carefully placed the skull into the bag and held it close.

  Together, we all walked back toward my car. I’d gotten in, after stowing the skull in the trunk, when God said, “You really shouldn’t leave like this.”

  “Leave like what,” I asked.

  “Without making things right with Ian,” Piss supplied.

  I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

  “I’m in no rush,” RV said. As though to make a point, she unhooked her seatbelt, leaned back against her seat, and closed her eyes like she was going to take a nap.

  “I’ll be as quick as I can,” I promised everyone.

  “Okay,” DeeDee barked agreeably.

  Leaving them all in the car, I walked up to Ian’s front door and knocked on it, a knot in my stomach.

  “Find what you were looking for?” Ian asked as he pulled the door open.

  “We found the skull.”

  He glared at me and I couldn’t quite understand why he was so angry.

  “I’m trying to protect you,” I told him.

  “You were rude to her,” he complained.

  “I didn’t mean to be,” I said. “She just caught me off guard.”

  “But I told you I was seeing her,” he complained.

  I nodded. He had told me he was seeing the medical examiner, and Gino had told me that I should meet her, but I’d still been caught off guard when I realized she was the mob doctor. “I’m sorry.”

  Ian glanced over my shoulder at the car. “Are you going to give the skull back to Archie?”

  “No,” I said and left it at that, not wanting him to know that I was going to use the skull to perform an exorcism on the little white dog who’d buried it.

  “Someday,” Ian complained, “you’ll let me into that family of yours.”

  “They’re your family, too,” I said defensively. Sure, he was a half-sibling that no one had known about until recently, but he was blood.

  Ian shook his head. “I’m not a part of it.”

  I frowned, hearing the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry. I’ll work on that,” I pledged. “But this, the skull thing, is complicated.”

  “Things always are,” Ian complained.

  “That’s the understatement of your life,” God said from his hiding spot.

  Ian, who heard and understood him, nodded, and said, “Goodnight, Maggie.”

  He stepped back and closed the door in my face.

  Looking at the door, I had a sinking feeling that I had somehow managed to irrevocably damage my relationship with my brother.

  20

  RV and I decided it was probably a better choice for her to keep the skull in her camper than for me to take it into the house. There was too much of a chance that someone in my family would see it and start asking questions.

  We made plans to meet up again the next morning to go find the witch and take the next step on our supernatural journey.

  After dropping RV off at her camper, I parked by the main house and tiredly stepped out of my car.

  A voice called, “Maggie.”

  Sighing heavily, I turned in the direction. “What?” I asked, not bothering to make any effort to disguise my annoyance.

  “I have to talk to you,” Jack Stern said, strolling through the shadows toward me. “I’m very worried about that woman.”

  Shaking my head but not wanting anyone in the house to overhear him, I led the way toward the barn.

  “She’s a murder suspect,” Jack reminded me.

  “So you say,” I said. “But I don’t believe it.”

  It was his turn to shake his head. “You’re being naïve, Maggie.”

  “Who goes there?” Percy, the blind peacock, shrieked through the night.

  Jack flinched and ducked as though he thought whatever was making the horrible sound was coming straight at us.

  “It’s okay,” I told the majestic bird, “it’s just me, we’re fine.”

  “Is there danger?” Percy shrieked again.

  Jack covered his ears against the shrill sound.

  “Everything’s okay,” I assured the peacock. “Go back to sleep.”

  “What the hell is that?” Jack asked. “A rabid cat?”

  “Tell him I resent that, sugar,” Piss meowed, strolling out of the shadows and rubbing against my ankles.

  Smiling, I bent down and picked her up.

  “That noise is the peacock,” I told Jack. “He’s pretty harmless.”

  That was sort of a lie. Percy had done some damage to recent attackers that had visited the compound looking for my father and the skull that we had just found.

  “Do you have a permit for all of these animals?” Jack asked.

  “Why?” I asked, turning on him. “Are you going to turn us in, Jack?”

  Instinctively, he took a step back, surprised at my anger.

  “Really,” I continued, despite the fact that Piss was gently kneading my chest, trying to calm me. “I’m naïve. You think we need permits to help the animals that we’re offering shelter to, and you think that the woman who’s parked on our property is a murderer, is that about it? Because if it is, or even if it isn’t, what the hell are you doing here, Jack?”

  “Take it easy, Maggie.”

  I grit my teeth so hard, I was sure he could hear them grinding against each other. Is there anything more aggravating than someone telling you to take it easy? It’s kind of like they’re the magic words to unleash someone’s temper. The only thing that could be worse is when someone says, “Now don’t get upset.”

  “You’re right,” Jack admitted. “It’s none of my business about the animal permit, and you’re not naïve, I just don’t understand why you’re so glib about a potential murderer staying on the property.”

  “Because I like her,” I told him. That wasn’t quite true, I respected RV and I needed her help at the moment, but she was hard to get to know and that made it hard to like her.

  “You don’t think it’s a strange coincidence that she showed up right after the Concords’ man went missing?” Jack asked.

  A bitter chuckle escaped me. “No, I don’t.”

  With a raise of his eyebrows, Jack said, “Well, I do. The timing makes her my prime suspect in his disappearance.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  God, though, said, “Well, he’s off base on that one.”

  Piss let out a little laugh.

  I understood their amusement. We all knew that RV was not responsible for the Concords’ man being missing. Patrick Mulligan had plowed into him with his car, and I had helped the redhead load the body into the trunk. I let out a heavy sigh. “Listen, Jack,” I said. “I appreciate your concern, but you should let this one go.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t do that,” he said. “She could be a serial killer.”

  I threw back my head and laughed. “Are you serious?”

  “Well, first her husband dies under mysterious circumstances, and then her mother-in-law, and now the Concord man has disappeared off the fa
ce of the earth.”

  “You would think, as a serial killer,” I opined, “that she would be trying to fly under the radar, instead of driving around in that pink monstrosity, attracting the attention of everyone in the vicinity.”

  “I’m going to figure this out,” Jack said. “With or without your help.” With that, he turned and stalked off into the darkness.

  I stood for a long moment and watched him go, and then muttered under my breath, “I hope he doesn’t find that body of the Concord man.”

  “It would be a shame if Patrick had to kill him,” God agreed.

  “Patrick wouldn’t kill him,” I said.

  “I don’t know,” God mused. “He might not do it to protect himself, but to protect you…”

  I shook my head. “It would never happen.”

  “I’m sorry, sugar,” Piss purred. “For once, I agree with the reptile. That man would do anything to protect you. That’s why he ran over the missing man.”

  “The question is, how far are you willing to go to protect him?” God asked. “You did kill his girlfriend to save him.”

  “That was self-defense.” I put Piss down on the ground and began walking toward the main house.

  I really hoped I didn’t have to do anything so extreme to protect Patrick this time around.

  21

  Armani was waiting in my bedroom for me. “Did you find it?”

  I nodded.

  Her eyes glowed with excitement. Her skin glimmered like she’d rolled around in a vat of glitter, a side effect, I guess, of interviewing strippers…or whatever it was she was calling them.

  “I knew you could do it, chica.”

  “Really,” I said, patting the top of the pig’s head, “it was Matilda who found it.”

  “Happy to help,” the pig oinked.

  “So now what are we going to do?” Armani asked.

  I shrugged. We were still waiting for instructions from the witch. “Hard to say,” I said. “Once RV gets in touch with Ann, we’ll be able to…”

  “Who’s Ann?” Armani interrupted.

  I chuckled. “She’s our witch.”

  “And her name is Ann?”

  I nodded.

  “What kind of name is that for a witch?” she asked, echoing my earlier thought. “She should have something better like Endora, Tabitha, Samantha, Sabrina, Piper, Phoebe, Prue—”

  “Or Glynda,” God interrupted from his hiding place in my bra.

  Armani frowned at my chest. “What did he say?”

  “He suggested Glynda,” I told her.

  “What the hell kind of name is Glynda?”

  “She’s the good witch in The Wizard of Oz.”

  Armani shrugged and waved her hand dismissively. “Never seen it.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’ve never seen The Wizard of Oz?”

  She shook her head.

  “Everyone’s seen The Wizard of Oz,” God opined.

  For once, I found myself agreeing with him. “We could watch it with Katie some time,” I suggested, wanting to fill in the gaps of Armani’s pop culture education.

  She didn’t look particularly interested in the idea.

  “It centers on a pair of shoes,” I told her, knowing that might get her to be more interested in it.

  “Why didn’t you say so?” she asked. “Let’s watch it now.”

  I chuckled. “Not now. I have a couple of other things to take care of first.” I chose my next words carefully. “I ran into Jack earlier.”

  She rolled her eyes, tossed her hair, and put her hand on her hip. “Let me guess,” she said. “He went off on this whole thing about how RV’s a murderer.”

  I nodded. “What do you think?”

  “I think the man looks for trouble.”

  I didn’t disagree with her, but I also knew he had a pretty good nose for the truth. “What if he’s right?” I asked.

  She scowled at me. “He’s not.”

  “How do you know?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a hard look. “Do you think I wouldn’t know something like that?”

  Considering I’m an assassin, and she doesn’t know that, I didn’t have much faith in her ability to know these kinds of things.

  “RV is a nice person. She’s helping you,” Armani said. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “I like horses,” Matilda interjected.

  I shook my head. “This witch of hers is going to perform the exorcism,” Armani said. “And I’m going to be there.”

  I shrugged helplessly. “Okay, if it’s open to spectators…”

  “I thought I was family,” Armani said.

  “All I meant was that I’m not sure if the witch needs to do this solo or what,” I said, trying to get myself out of trouble.

  Armani narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Are you trying to get rid of me and RV?”

  I shook my head. “I just don’t know what’s going on,” I told her. “I’ve never done this before.”

  She considered me for a long moment, as though trying to read whether or not I was telling her the truth. I tried to keep my expression neutral. The last thing I needed to do was upset my friend, when I had so much else going on. Finally, she nodded and changed the subject. “So,” she said with dramatic flair, “I had a vision.”

  I had to fight back the heavy sigh that wanted to escape from me. It’s not that I didn’t believe in Armani’s visions, it’s just that they usually meant bad news for me.

  “What kind of vision,” I ask grudgingly.

  “It’s about a door,” she said.

  “A door?” I asked. “Like to hell or something?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s a real door. But it has a really ugly face on it.”

  “An ugly face?” I asked, confused.

  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” God piped up.

  “Oh, shut up,” I told him. I was having enough trouble following this conversation.

  “It’s like a door knocker,” Armani said. “You know the kind—big, wrought iron, heavy things.”

  I nodded slowly, trying to remember if Delveccio’s house had ugly faced door knockers.

  “When you see it,” Armani said, grabbing my arm and squeezing it for emphasis, “you must go through it.”

  “And we’re sure this isn’t a doorway to hell?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Fairly sure.”

  “So you just want me to blindly walk through a door that could end my existence,” I clarified.

  “Have I ever steered you wrong?” she asked.

  I sighed, unable to hold it back anymore. She had never steered me wrong—inaccurately at times, but never wrong.

  “You see the door, and you go through it,” Armani said.

  I nodded my understanding, despite the fact that I was not happy with the instruction.

  Maybe the door would lead to a nice quiet space where I could take a nap. It never hurts to be optimistic. Especially when it comes to my crazy life.

  22

  At that moment, there was a knock at the door of the room we were in. Both Armani and myself jumped at the sound.

  “I know you’re in there, Maggie,” Herschel said. “We have to talk.”

  I shrugged an apology at Armani and pulled the door open to face my grandfather.

  He looked tired, worn. “What are you doing about our problem?”

  “There’s a plan,” I assured him. “We’re doing the best we can. It’ll be just another day or two.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t take it for another day or two.”

  “I can move Zippy out to the barn,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I can’t put Irma through that.”

  “I’m working as fast as I can,” I assured him.

  “There’s no beating her,” he said, leaning heavily against the door frame. “I, better than anyone, know that.”

  “Why?” Armani piped up behind me.

>   I whirled around and gave her a dirty look, trying to silence her. Nobody knew what had happened between my grandparents, or why my grandmother had been an evil shrew, but in my family, those things aren’t talked about. No doubt, Armani, with her limited movie viewing, didn’t understand these things.

  Ignoring my expression, Armani focused her attention on my grandfather. “Whatever secret you’re keeping isn’t helping the situation,” she told him bluntly.

  He glanced up and down the hallway to see if anyone was nearby, then stepped into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Tiredly, he walked over to the bed and settled his old frame down on it.

  “Can I get you something?” I asked. “A glass of water, maybe?”

  “Let the man speak,” God urged.

  Herschel grinned at the lizard’s words.

  I made the motion of zipping my mouth shut and held out a hand indicating that Herschel had the floor.

  “She was never a happy woman,” he began slowly.

  “Then why marry her?” Armani asked.

  I turned and gave her a disbelieving look, but she just shrugged, ignoring me.

  Herschel shook his head sadly. “I don’t know. I literally don’t know. I don’t remember much in the time leading up to the wedding.”

  Armani and I shared a look for once that wasn’t arguing, I knew that she, like me, was wondering if there had been some kind of spell involved in getting Herschel to the altar.

  “You stayed with her long enough to get her pregnant three times,” Armani pointed out.

  He shrugged and sank his head into his hands. “I know it seems unbelievable,” he said. “But it was like…” he trailed off, realizing what he was about to say would sound ridiculous.

  “Like you were under a spell?” I asked softly.

  He lifted his head and looked me in the eye. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  I shrugged. “There are a lot of things I used to think were impossible, that I now believe in,” I told him. I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “But maybe, if you told me how you broke the spell, how you escaped from her clutches,” I urged, “maybe we can use that information to get rid of her now.”

 

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