Maggie Lee (Book 10): The Hitwoman's Act of Contrition (8 page)

Angel turned around slowly. He smiled his approval. “Much better.”

“Thanks.” I moved past him to put the box into the car.

He peeked inside. “You carry olives as emergency rations.”

“I love olives. Don’t you?”

A strange expression crossed his face and he seemed to tense up. Instead of answering me, he bent over to retrieve more of my stuff from the ground.

I stowed the food away, and when I turned back toward him, he was holding my book, reading the title.

I fought the urge to snatch it out of his hands.

“A Home for Healing,” he read aloud. “Giving an Orphan a Place to Grow.” He looked at me questioningly.

I swallowed hard. No one knew I was reading that book. Not even God.

“It’s none of my business,” Angel murmured, closing the distance between us and pressing the book into my hands. “I apologize.”

“No problem,” I choked out.

The semblance of a sad smile played at the corners of his mouth. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’m going to go.”

“Of course. Thank you again. If there’s anything I can do to repay you…”

“There’s one thing.”

I waited tensely.

“I’ve been out of town for a long time. A lot of places closed. Where’s the best place to get a pizza around here.”

I relaxed at the simple request. “Do you know Tony’s on Seventh?’

He winced. “Not a fan of the atmosphere.”

“DiNapoli by the old roller rink. Do you know where that is?”

He nodded. “Thanks, Maggie.”

He extended his hand.

I shifted the book to my left hand so that I could shake. “Thank y-you, Angel.” I stuttered slightly, caught off guard by the tingling sensation that erupted the moment our palms met.

I could tell he felt it too from the way he dropped me like a hot potato.

An expression that looked a lot like regret passed over his face. “Too bad we didn’t meet at a better time.” With that he turned and walked away, out of my life.

I watched him go and found myself regretting that I’d never see him again.

When I’d finished reloading the trunk, I headed back to the B&B to grab something to eat and put the lizard back into his terrarium.

I didn’t even get to the basement before Aunt Leslie cornered me in the kitchen.

“I’ve found it,” she trilled triumphantly.

“Found what?” I poured myself some room-temperature coffee into a large glass.

“The perfect way to soothe your spirit.”

“Oh yeah.” I rummaged in the fridge, looking for something to munch on.

“Yes. It’s perfect. The timing’s perfect. It’s meant to be,” Leslie gushed.

I ended up with cheese and grapes. I closed the fridge and popped a piece of fruit into my mouth. “What is?”

“A spiritual retreat.”

I almost choked on the grape.

“It’ll soothe your mind, stretch your body, and rejuvenate your spirit,” Leslie recited as though she was reading copy from a brochure.

“I don’t think—” I began to protest.

“There’s chanting and yoga and sharing and contemplation. Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”
She looked so happy and hopeful that I managed to prevent myself from saying that it sounded like hell on earth.

Barely.

“I’m not sure—”

“Best of all,” she interrupted, “it’s nearby, so there’s no travel involved. You can start tomorrow, so the timing’s perfect. You can be rested and refreshed when Katie comes home.”

I shoved a big piece of cheddar cheese into my mouth to buy myself a moment to come up with a response that wouldn’t offend Leslie. She’d also taken her duties of taking care of my spiritual well-being seriously and she seemed genuinely excited about her “solution” even though I’d have rather had a tooth extracted without Novocain than chant with a bunch of yoga-istas.

“The grounds are beautiful,” she gushed. “Gardens and wildlife. Peace and tranquility. And it’s like you’re tucked into your own quiet corner of the world since it’s tucked into the Krout Estate.”

This time I almost choked on my cheese. After spluttering for a few seconds, I asked, “The Krout Estate?”

“The  Krout family. Old money. Power. Influence.”

“I know who they are.” I was more focused on the location since it was where Wayne Krout was hiding out.

“The land has been in their family for generations.  They even have their own orchard.”

My mind whirled. If I decided to take Delveccio’s offer to get rid of Wayne Krout, this crazy retreat of Leslie’s would be the perfect place to launch the attack from.

“So what do you think?” Leslie asked.

I took a sip of my coffee while I composed my answer. “It sounds great.”

Leslie’s face lit up with a pleased smile.

“But can I think about it for a couple of hours?” I added hurriedly. If I couldn’t come up with a plan to get to Krout, I wasn’t going to submit myself to yoga and chanting.

Leslie’s smile drooped a little, but she agreed gamely. “Of course. Let me know what you decide.” She thrust a piece of paper into my hand and hurried out of the kitchen.

I carefully carried the paper, coffee, cheese, and grapes down the stairs into the basement.

I’d reached the bottom when it occurred to me that DeeDee wasn’t beside me panting “Gotta! Gotta!”

“Everything okay?” I called out, suddenly worried.

“Everything’s just fine, Sugar,” Piss purred contentedly.

I looked in the direction her voice was coming from and found Patrick sitting on the couch, watching me. The cat was on one side of him, the dog on the other.

It was a good thing I was at the bottom of the stairs or I might have taken a tumble, I was so shocked by his presence.

“Hey, Mags,” he said quietly, amusement dancing in his gaze.

“Maggie, hi,” DeeDee panted.

I hurried over to them. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” Patrick replied calmly.

“Why? Is there something wrong?”

He shook his head.

“But it’s daylight.”

He grinned. “Were you thinking I was vampire all this time?”

“I think you’re asking to get caught if you try sneaking in and out of here during the day.” I offered him some cheese and grapes. “This is a busy place.”

He took a piece of cheese and immediately fed it to the dog. She scarfed it up as though she hadn’t eaten in days. He took a couple of grapes and DeeDee looked at him hopefully.

“No grapes for you. They make dogs sick,” he told her. He looked up at me. “Did you know that?”

“They can’t digest the skins.”

“I’m impressed.”

I rolled my eyes. “I looked up everything that was toxic for dogs when she moved in.”

“This conversation is toxic to my brain,” God complained from my chest.

I jumped, startled. He’d been so quiet I’d forgotten I was still carrying him around.

Patrick just shook his head at the squeaking sound.

I held up a finger. “One sec.”  Putting down the food and paper, I hurried over to the lizard’s terrarium, reached down my shirt, and carefully placed him into the enclosure. “Warm enough?” I whispered.

“Let there be light,” he commanded.

So I turned on the terrarium’s overhead lamp before rejoining Patrick.  The animals were splayed out on either side of him, which meant there was no room on the sofa for me. I walked past him toward an empty chair, but he caught my hand.

I glanced down at him questioningly.

He tugged, knocking me off balance and pulling me into his lap. Wrapping his arms around me, he squeezed. Enveloped in his comforting embrace, some of my tension seeped away. Covering his arm with my own, I snuggled closer, enjoying his warmth.

We sat like that for a few minutes, not speaking, just enjoying being in one another’s arms. Finally, he raised a hand and gently cupped my chin. I tilted my head back to welcome his kiss, but was surprised when his fingers hovered over my cheek.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice strained as his eyes searched my face.

“What?” I sensed anger in him, but didn’t understand why.

“Who hit you?”

I tried to dip my chin so I wouldn’t have to meet his eyes, but he anticipated my reaction and gently immobilized my head with two fingers.

“Who, Mags?”

“My mother.”

He blinked.  “Why?”

I batted his hand away and jumped off his lap. “How the hell should I know?”

Patrick waited, silent and patient.

Filled with an uncomfortable energy I paced. “She does that, you know.”

“Does what?”

“Has bad days. I’m supposed to understand and forgive her.” I glanced in the direction of the terrarium, but God had his back to me. “She’s good for a while and I get lulled into thinking that maybe, just maybe, we can have a semblance of a normal relationship and then today happens.”

I realized I’d raised my voice when DeeDee jumped off the couch and went and hid behind it.

“I’m sorry.” I took a shuddering breath. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

DeeDee eyed me distrustfully as though she fully expected me to have another outburst.

“What happened today?” Patrick asked quietly.

“Today it was screaming and slapping and covering me with cherry gelatin.”

“That explains the smell,” Patrick murmured. “I’m really glad it’s not your new perfume or something.”

I stared at him for a beat and then burst out laughing.

He grinned and held out his arms, inviting me back to his embrace.

I was still chuckling when I settled myself on his lap again.

“You smell so disgustingly sweet,” he murmured in my ear. His breath tickled the sensitive skin and I squirmed against him. “You’re killing me, Mags.” He groaned, grabbing my hips and repositioning my butt so I could feel exactly how I was killing him.

Knowing he wanted me ignited a devilish streak inside me. I squirmed harder.

He groaned louder.

I turned slightly so I could slip my hand into the opening of his polo shirt and stroke his collarbone as I found his lips with mine.

Our last kiss had been wild and desperate, but this kiss was gentle and sweet.

We both knew it couldn’t go any further than a kiss, not here in the B&B where people were always popping in, so the kiss was an indulgent moment, nothing more.

When it was over, Patrick rested his forehead against mine. “We should do that more often.”

“We should,” I agreed.

“We will,” he promised. He paused for a moment before continuing. “But it’s not why I came here today.”

I tensed, waiting for whatever bombshell he was going to drop.

“It’ll probably be on the news soon, but I wanted to let you know that one of Wayne Krout’s victims committed suicide today.” He sat back in seat, pulling away from me.

I searched his face and flinched when I saw the haunted look in his eyes. “How old?”

“Twelve.” Patrick shook his head. “Just a kid.  Somebody’s got to do something. I wanted to let you know I’m going to take Delveccio’s job offer.”

“How will you get to him?” I asked, thinking of the spiritual retreat.

He shrugged.

“I think I have a way.” I told him about Leslie’s spiritual intervention plan.

“Might work,” he agreed grudgingly, “but if they investigate the retreat participants as possible suspects…”

“There’s risk involved with every job. But like you said, somebody’s got to do something.”

“Yeah,” Patrick agreed. “But does it have to be you?”

On my way to the hospital to tell Delveccio that I’d delivered his package and would take his job, I stopped for pizza.

Well, I actually stopped to see how Marlene was doing at her new, legitimate job. But I did it under the guise of picking up a slice for Katie.

The Pizza Palace does not have the best pie in town, not even close, but it still does a lot of business. The place was already getting crowded when I stopped in around five.

I stood in the doorway a minute, watching Marlene deliver a pizza and pitcher of soda to a table with a harried mother and two hyper boys. Marlene looked happy as she exchanged pleasantries with the woman before moving on to her next table. It wasn’t until she’d finished taking that order that she spotted me.

She waved me over as she made her way toward the kitchen.

“Checking up on me?” she asked once I was within earshot.

“Picking up some dinner to share with Katie,” I replied.

She smirked, making it clear she knew I was lying.

“
And
,” I added, “offering you moral support on your first day. How’s it going?”

She handed the cook in the kitchen her order before answering. “Pretty well. It’s taking me a little while to get the rhythm of the place, but I’m getting there. Ferdinand is great. Want to meet him?”

I nodded. “Can I also order two slices of pepperoni to go?”

“Wait here?”

She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to watch the growing crowd of families filling the tables.  I tried to imagine bringing Katie to the place. Where would she want to sit? What would we talk about?

Marlene reappeared, a handsome, flour-covered man with a wide smile by her side.

I did a double-take.  For some reason, I’d been expecting her to introduce me to a senior citizen from the Old Country, not a young hunk who could pass for a model.

“Maggie, I’d like you to meet my boss, Ferdinand.”

He wiped some of the flour off on his apron and extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” I said with a firm handshake.

“The pleasure is all mine. We’re happy to have your sister here.”

I smiled. “You’re lucky to have her.”

“
I’m
lucky that Doc knew Ferdinand was looking for a waitress,” Marlene interjected.

We all laughed. Doc, Marlene’s boyfriend, was an E.M.T. who moonlighted as a male stripper. I couldn’t help wonder if Ferdinand did the same.

“Two pups!” a heavily-accented voice called from the kitchen.

“That’s yours.” Marlene disappeared into the kitchen.

“Busy place you’ve got here,” I said to Ferdinand.

He beamed proudly. “We’re growing. We’ll probably never be able to compete with Tony’s or DiNapoli’s, but we’re carving out a niche.”