The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness (17 page)

“It’s not my call.” She slowly stood. “It’s a decision from The Powers That Be.”

“Are these Powers living or dead?”

She smiled benevolently at me. “You’ll figure it out.”

I reached out a hand to stop her as she left the room, but then I let it drop to my side. “Good luck, Gypsy,” I called after her.

Her voice drifted back to me. “Good luck to you, Maggie.”

I would need it.

Even though I was physically exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed by the news Gypsy had shared, I still had to go to my crappy job at Insuring the Future. Grabbing a couple of Susan’s leftover cookies to have as my breakfast of champions, I rushed out to the car, almost stampeding over Piss and God in the process.

“Where you goin’ in such a rush, Sugar?” the one-eyed cat drawled.

“Work,” I muttered. “Are you two going to be around when I get home or are you going to disappear on me again?”

“I
told
you I was starving,” God replied haughtily. “What did you expect? That I’d just wait until you finished snoring to get something to eat?”

I didn’t bother to respond. I just hopped in my car and squealed out of the driveway. It wasn’t until I was halfway down the street that I realized Aunt Susan would no doubt lecture me about leaving tire marks.

“Pull over,” a gravelly voice ordered after I’d driven a few blocks.

I almost drove off the road when I glanced in my mirror and saw Buzz the Bomber sitting in the back seat, pointing a gun at my head. My heart skipped a beat and my entire body began to shake.

“Easy, Miss Lee,” Buzz said. “Or you’ll get somebody killed.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with that,” I muttered as I pulled off the road as directed. My nerves got the better of me and I accidentally drove over the curb. “Killing people. Trying to kill me.”

“It wasn’t personal.”

“What wasn’t personal?” I asked.

“Blowing up your apartment. It wasn’t as though you were an intended target.”

“You could have warned me you were going to do it,” I retorted, glaring at his reflection.

“That’s not in my job description.”

“So you’re working for someone?”

His gaze narrowed. “Aren’t we all?”

“Who are
you
working for?”

“Someone who wants the Delveccio and Lubovsky families gone.”

“And the innocent people who are getting caught in the crossfire?” I asked, eyeing the gun in his hand.

“Collateral damage.”

“Like I’m about to become?”

He tapped the side of my head with the gun.

Wincing, I drew away.

“Not you. You managed to disarm my handiwork. I was impressed. That earns you a second chance. But you call the cops now and I’ll blow your whole family to Kingdom Come.”

With the echo of his threat hanging in the air, he stepped out of the car and strolled away as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

I watched him disappear in the side view mirror as I tried to get a grip on myself. Forcing myself to take some deep breaths, I considered calling the police, but what would I say? A madman bomber just threatened me?

I’d just gotten the U.S. Marshal and FBI agent out of the B&B. Did I really want to invite the police into my life?

Knowing I couldn’t do that, I grudgingly pulled back onto the road to head to work, the tires thumping as I pulled over the curb.

A few minutes later one of those tires blew out. It immediately made that sickening, unmistakable thump-thump-thump flat tire sound. The car shook violently in protest, as I eased it onto the side of the road. Unfortunately there was no shoulder to pull onto, so the traffic had to slow down significantly to squeeze past me. The cars driving past me honked their horns as though I’d intentionally picked that spot to break down.

“I quit!” I shouted overwhelmed by the chaos and stress that was my life. “I quit!” I pounded on the steering wheel until my palms ached. Then I dropped my head into my hands and had a good long cathartic cry.

I’d just wiped away my tears when I heard, “Need a lift, lady?”

I looked up and saw a woman wearing a swipe of grease across her forehead and a tow truck company shirt staring at me.

“I got my rig right here,” she said, pointing to the tow truck, which had miraculously parked itself in front of my car.

“How much?” I asked suspiciously.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “My station is just a block away. They’ll get you fixed up and we’ll get traffic flowing again. Fair enough?”

I nodded.

“Hop out,” she said, holding up a hand to stop traffic so that I could safely get out of the car. “You can have a seat in the rig.”

Grateful to escape the angry gaze of every driver on the road, I hurried to take my seat in the front of the tow truck. “Maybe it was Drew Ire after all,” I mused.

A couple of minutes later, the driver swung herself behind the steering wheel. “Rough morning?”

“Rough life,” I muttered.

“I hear ya.”

We didn’t indulge in any more conversation as we travelled the short distance to the service station.

“You go in there and talk to the boss,” the driver said, indicating I should go through the service bay entrance. “We’ll get you squared away.”

I walked slowly toward the garage, the scent of gas, oil, and machinery tickling my nose. The area was bathed in shadow and I stepped in warily. “Hello?”

I didn’t get an answer, but I did hear metal clanking against metal, so I ventured further inside.

“I have a flat tire,” I called out.

Suddenly the space filled with bright light, blinding me. Before I knew what was happening, the large door behind me, slammed shut, locking me inside.

“A flat tire is the least of your problems, Miss Lee,” a woman said.

Heart pounding, adrenaline racing, I picked up a nearby wrench, ready to defend myself. “Let me out of here.”

“After we’ve had our little chat.” The woman stepped into my line of vision. Close to fifty, her eyes were sharp and her chin was pointy. Her power suit and shoes, which cost more than I make in a week, were out of place against the backdrop of concrete and grease.

“What do you want?” I asked, hoping I sounded a lot braver than I was feeling. Internally I was quaking in my boots as I faced off against this newest foe.

“I’m not your enemy, Miss Lee,” she said, as though she’d read my mind.

“Who are you?”

She tilted her head to the side slightly. “Someone with whom you share an agenda.”

“I don’t even know your name. How can we share an agenda?”

“You may call me Ms. Whitehat.”

I scoffed, “Meaning you’re one of the good guys.”

She dipped her chin. “I like to think so.”

“What do you want?”

“What do you consider yourself, Miss Lee? One of the good guys, or one of the bad?”

Before Katie’s accident and meeting Delveccio and Patrick, I would have planted myself firmly in the white hat category. Now I wasn’t so sure I belonged there. “It depends on the day.”

She laughed at that, a dry, brittle sound. “The most honest answer anyone’s given me in a long time. Bravo, Margaret.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot about you.” She walked closer, her heels tapping out a harsh pattern against the floor.

I tightened my grip on the wrench.

“I know you love your family.”

“Don’t you threaten my family,” I said, raising the wrench and stepping closer to her.

“You love your family enough to kill for them.”

The fact that she’d said it as a statement and not as a question wasn’t lost on me. It was as though she knew my secrets. But how could she?

“You’ve been on our radar for a while now,” Whitehat continued.

“Our?” I asked, feeling like I was stuck in quicksand and sinking into something I’d never get free of.

Her mouth twitched in an eerie semblance of a smile. “Ever since you killed Delveccio’s son-in-law.”

I gritted my teeth, doing my best to keep a poker face. “Who?”

“Let’s not play games. Gary the Gun wasn’t the only one who took pictures that day.”

I swallowed hard. “What’s this about?”

“We’d like you to join our organization…as a freelancer of sorts.”

“Of sorts?”

“You have some unique skill sets. On occasion we may be in need of your services.”

It sounded like I was being blackmailed into becoming part of a criminal organization. “I’m not interested.”

“A case could be made in the instances surrounding the deaths of both Alfonse and Gary the Gun that you were acting in self-defense,” she said slowly. “The same can’t be said for Patrick Mulligan’s involvement. You wouldn’t want the authorities to find out about his moonlighting, would you?”

My blood ran cold as I imagined what kind of incriminating information she might have about Patrick’s activities. I slowly lowered the wrench.

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked, beaten.

“Today? Today I wanted to compliment you on a job well done.”

I blinked, surprised.

“You’ll find I’m actually a pretty decent boss, Margaret. You did an excellent job saving those girls last night. My men could have gotten you and Gypsy out of there, but they couldn’t have disarmed the bomb.”

“The ninjas were yours?” I asked.

A smile quirked the corners of her lips. “Yes, the ninjas were ours. You see? We had a common agenda. We both wanted to stop the bomber from killing innocent people.”

“What does Gypsy have to do with this?”

“Not much, except she was under our protection.”

“So Zeke works for you?” I asked, suddenly feeling betrayed by my old friend.

“He’s employed the same way you are. He’s under….duress. He doesn’t know about your recruitment and he must never find out. The consequences for him would be significant. Do you understand?”

I nodded, relieved that Zeke hadn’t set me up.

“You can tell Delveccio that the bomber will be found in the same place as his ex-son-in-law. That way he’ll believe you did your job and Mulligan won’t be blamed.”

“But I just....”

“Yes, yes,” she waved her hand dismissively. “He just threatened you. Believe me when I tell you that he’ll never do that again.”

“He’s dead?” I asked.

She nodded.

“I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“I told you, Margaret. I wanted to compliment you on a job well done, as well as putting you on notice that you’re now playing for our team. I’m sure it goes without saying that you understand you can’t discuss this with Mulligan. The ramifications for both of you would be severe.”

“I understand,” I said quietly, putting the wrench back down where I’d found it to signal my surrender.

“Excellent. Your tire’s been fixed, so you can continue on your way to work now. I’ll be in touch.”

With that the lights went out. Once again blinded, I stood in the darkness, unsure of what to do. Behind me the motor of the bay door rumbled to life as it raised, offering me an escape route.

I went on with the rest of my day without revealing I’d just fallen into the employ of a shadowy, all-seeing organization that had the ability to destroy my life along with that of the man I….I what? Was infatuated with? Cared for?

At work, in between taking insurance claims, I listened to Armani spew theories about the spirit world.

Afterward I visited Katie in the hospital. Not only did her nurse say she’d made great progress that day, but Delveccio told me the doctors had been encouraged by some changes in his grandson’s brain scan. I told the mobster where the bomber’s body would be found. He expressed his gratitude by buying me a chocolate pudding.

DeeDee was out in the yard with Leslie when I finally got home.

“How was your day, dear?” Leslie asked as I pulled my tired body from the car.

“Fine,” I lied smoothly. “Yours?”

“Excellent. Excellent. Susan waited for you to get home for dinner.”

I sighed heavily. I had been hoping to escape into the basement to discuss my latest career development with God. Instead, I was ushered into the dining room.

“I made your favorite,” Susan told me before bustling into the kitchen. “Lasagna.”

“That’s mom’s favorite,” I corrected her good-naturedly, since it’s in my Top Ten of favorite foods.

“And she made homemade garlic bread,” Bob, her beau, confided, patting his stomach before following her.

“You look tense,” Aunt Loretta said. “Doesn’t she look stressed, Templeton?”

“She’s had a rough week,” he murmured sympathetically.

I felt a pang of guilt as I sank into my seat at the table. I’d disliked him from the moment I’d met the poor man, but he’d never been anything but kind to me.

“Sex would cure that,” Loretta declared. “You need to have some sex.”

I blushed, remembering how Patrick had made me feel earlier.

“Now you’ve embarrassed the poor girl,” Leslie admonished. “Leave her be. Just because you think it’s the solution to everything doesn’t mean it is for everyone.”

“Ha!” Loretta scoffed. “Ask Susan whether I’m right. She and Bob used up all the whipped cream last night, carrying on like a pair of experimenting teenagers.”

My mouth dropped open. I’d assumed that Gypsy had walked in on Loretta the nymphomaniac and her fiancé Templeton. Had she really interrupted uptight Susan and Bob?

I chuckled at the absurdity of it all. DeeDee strolled over and laid her head in my lap.

Susan swept in and laid the pan of lasagna in the middle of the table with a flourish. “Here we go.”

Bob laid a plate of garlic bread beside it, but not before filching a crumb and sneaking it into his mouth with a satisfied smirk.

Every chair but one was filled.

“I’d like to say something,” Leslie said before anyone could start dishing out the food.

Susan rolled her eyes.

The last time Leslie had insisted on saying Grace, she’d recited the Serenity Prayer.

“I love my family,” Leslie stated simply, stunning us all.

“Amen,” Bob said, reaching for the bread.