Maggie Lee (Book 7): The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops (16 page)

“I didn’t know you’d gotten back,” Zeke said.

“You do now,” I sniped, realizing that the “my guy” Marlene had mentioned wasn’t Patrick, but Zeke.

I tried to fight back the wave of disappointment, but realized I was scowling.

Zeke raised his hands in surrender. “I come in peace.”

I forced the scowl into the semblance of a smile. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Reaching over to brush a stray wisp of hair off my cheek, Zeke flashed me his most charming grin.

I tried to smile back, but I was distracted by the sensations sparking throughout my body.

Leaning closer he whispered, “No harm done.”

His breath tickled my cheek and then his lips nibbled the corner of my mouth.

I turned my head so that his mouth ended up against my cheek. “I can’t,” I gasped. “We’ve talked about this. We’re not good together.”

“Oh we’re great together,” he murmured, settling his hands on my hips. “It’s just our timing that sucks.”

“Gotta,” the dog reminded me softly.

Grateful for the distraction, I stepped away from Zeke and pointed at the mutt. “I was going to let her out.”

“Okay. I fed her earlier… and the cat.” The hint of laughter in his voice told me that he wasn’t going to hold my jumpiness against me. “Susan showed me where their food was before she went to the hospital. How’s Templeton feeling?”

“It was an allergic reaction.” I peered at him closely. The cut above his eye had scabbed over, but the circles under his eyes were still pronounced. “More importantly, how are
you
doing?”

“Better. The sleep helped.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“You needed it.”

“Gotta,” DeeDee whined insistently.

“Let me put her out.” I let the dog out the cellar storm door so that she could run free in the backyard before asking Zeke. “So what are you still doing here?”

“I was waiting for you to get back to see if you needed anything. I know you’ve had a heck of a day.”

“You have no idea.” Considering I was going to try to find the dingbat the next day, I was expecting a repeat of the day’s insanity.

“Can I help?”

I shook my head.

“Ask him,” God urged.

Zeke focused on the squeaking lizard perched on my shoulder.

“He’s a sneaky one. Ask him about sneaking your father in to see your mother.”

“What’s got him so riled up?” Zeke asked.

“It’s been a long day for him too,” I murmured, considering God’s suggestion as I ushered the dog back inside with a sharp whistle.  “Are you good at what you do?”

He arched an eyebrow quizzically.

“That stuff we don’t talk about. Are you good at it?”

He nodded.

“You should have this conversation in the bathroom, with the shower running,” God urged. “You don’t want the Fed to overhear you.”

Zeke stared at the lizard. “I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Like I,” DeeDee told him.

Even though he couldn’t understand her words, when she licked his hand, he smiled and said, “You like me, don’t you?”

“You like.” She licked him again.

“Thanks, darling.” He patted her head.

“C’mere,” I said, motioning for him to follow me. On the way, I dropped God into his enclosure.  Grabbing Zeke’s hand, I pulled him into the bathroom. “Close the door.”

He complied, despite looking confused.

I turned on the shower and flipped on the overhead fan for good measure.

Zeke eyed me nervously, none too pleased to be stuck with a potentially insane woman in such tight quarters.

I sat on the closed toilet in the hopes of alleviating some of his tension. “I need to keep this conversation just between us.”

He paled slightly, but nodded.

“Are you sure you can handle that?”

“I’m sure.”

I took a deep breath and carefully phrased my request. “Hypothetically, if someone wanted to sneak someone into a mental facility, how could they do it?”

“That’s it? That’s what this is about?”

I pitched my voice so that it was just louder than the roar of water. “It’s important.”

Zeke let out a relieved sigh and leaned against the sink.

I wondered what awful thing he’d imagined I was about to confide. “Zeke, I—”

“Service.”

“Service?”

“Electric. Plumbing. Cable. Any of those would work.”

“Really?” I asked dubiously.

“Plumbing would be the best bet. For one thing, people, even burly security guards freak out a bit if you mention a human waste emergency. For another, it lends itself to a great disguise.”

“Because everyone’s staring at the person’s butt crack?” I joked.

“Spread some fecal matter on the uniform and no one is looking at the person’s face. Plus, you could always wear one of those respirator mask thingees.” He flashed a self-satisfied smile. “What do you think? Will it do the trick?”

I nodded slowly. “It just might.”

“Of course, say, if the person bears an uncanny resemblance to Santa Claus, it would probably make sense to wear a beat-up baseball cap.” He watched me carefully as he spoke, making it clear he knew I was asking for my father.

I met his gaze steadily. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And if the person resembles the Easter Bunny, you’d be better off going as TV repairman.”

“Why’s that?”

“How else could you explain the bunny ears.” He winked.

I groaned aloud.

He laughed, the sound bouncing off the tile of the small room like a pinball.

“Danger!” DeeDee barked from the other side of the door. “Coming man.”

Jumping to my feet, I slapped a hand over Zeke’s mouth to silence him. His eyes widened, but he took the hint and quieted.

“Miss Lee? Are you down here?” Marshal Griswald called.

Seeing the panic in my eyes, Zeke leaned close and whispered in my ear, “Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Remembering that he’d never given me a reason to distrust him, I did as he asked.

Then his mouth was on mine, warm and demanding. Before I knew what was happening, his tongue tangoed with mine as he pulled me hard against him, despite my pressing against his chest with both hands. My heart might belong to Patrick, but Zeke is a damn good kisser and my body responded accordingly.

And then we were falling.

Literally.

We fell through the bathroom door, into the basement. Me on top, him on the bottom, taking the brunt of the punishing landing. He turned his head at the last possible instant, so instead of our teeth clattering against each other, my mouth bounced against jawbone.

“Ow,” we cried simultaneously.

I rolled off of him and when I looked up, I spotted Marshal Mike Griswald staring at us with a bemused expression.

“Let me guess,” the marshal said dryly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“It’s not,” I assured him.

Luckily he didn’t appear convinced.

Zeke rolled over and slowly got to his feet. “I guess we’re not taking that shower after all.” He nonchalantly strolled back into the bathroom to turn the running water off.

“Sorry,” Mike murmured.

“Did you want something?” I did my best to sound huffy and not guilty.

“I wanted to let you know I just talked to Brian and he said that your uncle is out of the woods.”

“He’s not my uncle.”

“Maggie hates weddings.” Zeke emerged from the bathroom. “And she hates Loretta’s weddings most of all.”

“She’s been married a lot?”

I scowled. “More times than should be legal.” Realizing that I shouldn’t plant the notion of illegal activity in the marshal’s head, I added hurriedly, “But she believes in true love and that it’s out there for everyone to find.”

The marshal rolled his eyes and then yawned.

I was pretty sure that was unprofessional behavior, but it made him seem like less of a threat. “I take it you haven’t found your true love?”

“Sure I have. I love my job.”

“Why?” I genuinely wanted to know. To me, a job in law enforcement seemed about as appealing as cleaning out septic tanks.

“Because sometimes the good guys need a hand in order to win.”

I nodded. That made sense to me. In some ways it wasn’t far off the logic I used to convince myself that killing people for money was the right thing to do.

That
thought made me think I belonged in a mental institution.

Luckily I was going to one the next morning.

Chapter Nineteen

I left the B&B at the crack of dawn. I’d heard Loretta, Leslie, and Susan return after two in the morning, but hadn’t left the basement. I figured that if something life-changing had occurred, they’d come downstairs to tell me. Besides, I didn’t want to disturb Piss more than necessary.

Even though she was stoned on painkillers, she cried in her sleep.  While I hadn’t  been able to offer her much comfort despite my best efforts, DeeDee had taken it upon herself to soothe the injured cat. Wrapping her much longer frame around the kitty, she’d hummed Ice, Ice Baby, which strangely seemed to ease the cat’s agitation.

I woke before my alarm the next morning, I fed the dog and collected her poop, fed and drugged the cat, and was bullied by the lizard before the sun even rose.

I had planned on leaving the little guy at home, but he wouldn’t hear of it. “You don’t really think you can pull this off alone, do you?”

I didn’t think I’d be able to pull it off with or without his “help,” but I decided his companionship might save my sanity, so I scooped him up and brought him along.

My first hurdle of the day was figuring out where to get the plumber’s uniform disguise Zeke had suggested. Since the only place I could think of was the local costume shop and that didn’t open until ten, I decided to swing by Patrick’s place to see if he was there.

Climbing into my car in the dark, I almost hurt myself as I half-fell into the vehicle.

“Sensitive skin!” God shrieked. “Watch where you’re going, you clumsy oaf.”

Righting myself, I felt around on the floor by the brake and accelerator to figure out what had tripped me up. Hauling a crinkling brown paper onto my lap, I fumbled for the overhead light to see its contents.

I pulled out a plumber’s uniform size extra-large.

God let out a low whistle. “Mr. Smooth came through.”

“He certainly did.” I reached into the bag and pulled out a respirator and a clipboard complete with a fake work order.

“See? You don’t need the dirty cop.”

“Just because he doesn’t feed you is no reason to badmouth him at every turn,” I scolded, putting everything back in the bag and tossing it onto the seat beside me.

Considering all that was going on, I was surprised and disappointed that Patrick hadn’t called, but since I was practically being shadowed by a US Marshal and a police detective, I couldn’t really blame him.

God, on the other hand, was alarmed by Patrick’s absence from our lives. “It’s not like him to not check in.”

“He did bring the medication for Piss,” I reminded him as I drove across town toward the redhead’s place.

“And left a cryptic “
INFO
” note that he didn’t follow up on.”

“I’d forgotten about that.” I squeezed the steering wheel, frustrated with myself for letting something like that slip my mind.

“And
that
,” the lizard declared snootily, “is why I had to come along.”

I parked four blocks away from Patrick’s place, placed the know-it-all in my bra, and took off at a brisk walk, though I did stop long enough to buy a couple of coffees and a  bag of donuts at a little bakery.

“What makes you think he’s going to eat that junk?” the lizard asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the baked delicacies.

“If he doesn’t eat them, I will.”

“Then you’ll feel sick,” he warned, knowing too well my tendency to binge on junk food when stressed, only to regret it.

I waved at the security camera at Patrick’s place before knocking on the door. When he didn’t answer, I left a coffee and the bag of donuts (okay, I snagged a cruller for myself; girl has to eat) on his doorstep.

“Great,” God muttered, “now you’re feeding the rats on top of everything else.”

I didn’t reply since I had a mouthful of fat-filled sugary goodness.

We drove over to the motel where I’d left my father the night before. I parked in the lot and stared at the room I’d rented for him.

“Do you expect him to psychically know you’re here? You could honk the horn,” God said.

“I’m wondering if this is a good idea,” I confessed.

“Which part? The part where you help a man on the run from every law enforcement agency in the state? Or the part where you try to bail Loretta out of trouble based on Armani’s
dingbat
prediction?”

“I thought you were here to lend moral support.”

“I’m here to help you. I never said I approved of this plan.”
I stared at the lizard curled up on top of my dashboard. His gaze was steady. Of course it would have to be since he doesn’t have any eyelids.

“So you think this is a bad idea?”

“I think most of what you do is a bad idea,” the lizard agreed. “Don’t you?”

Grudgingly, I nodded. “Lately? Yeah.”

He licked his eyeball, his version of blinking. “You’re doing the best you can in an impossible situation.”

Instead of replying, I swallowed the last of my coffee. I rested my hand on the gear shift, tempted to abandon the foolish plan and drive away. “I can’t do this. It’s not going to work.”

“You’ve accomplished other things you thought you couldn’t do.”

Closing my eyes, I slammed my head against the seat’s headrest. “You make it sound like that’s a good thing, but the things I’ve done…” I trailed off, guilt, like bile, rising in my throat, burning, threatening to choke me. “I lie to everyone I know. I count criminals as my closest allies. I’ve
killed
people.” Hot tears stung my eyes.  “I’m a horrible person.”

Leaning forward, I crossed my forearms over the steering wheel, rested my forehead on them and cried. I cried, and wailed, and sobbed.

And God stayed silent.