Once Upon a Spy (Humorous Cozy Mystery) (13 page)

“Tell me again why you decided to steal Yvonne away from us.”

Or perhaps it wasn’t his imagination.

“Pop, it’s fine. Matt didn’t steal me away. I volunteered.”

A white lie, to be sure, but Matt nevertheless felt grateful.

“No Assenheimer has ever left his post.” One of the eight hulks spoke, in a rumbling voice.

“Well, Randall, perhaps it’s time someone did.”

This statement didn’t sit well with the Assenheimer brood, for their scowls deepened.

Matt took a stab at the pot roast on his plate. This stuff smelled great.

“Now don’t let your food get cold,” admonished Yvonne’s mom.

As if on cue, all the men grunted something and dug in.

They had a healthy appetite, that much was obvious, for it didn’t take them long to clear away enough pot roast to feed a small third world country.

“Look, I love the garbage business, all right? But this is a real challenge, you guys! I get to be a secret agent!”

Matt looked up. No secret agent ever told anyone they were a secret agent. And since Yvonne had been one for many years, he wondered what made her fess up now. Working for the ASS really was a big deal to her. Still, he had to frown upon her openness. He cleared his throat and laughed. “Secret agent. Funny.” He gazed around the table. “We’re just cops, you guys. No secret agent stuff involved. What-so-ever. Ha ha.”

Yvonne seemed to have caught on, for she displayed a nice blush. “Right. Of course. I was getting a little carried away. But isn’t it great that I get to be a cop!”

Randall looked up and gave Matt a dirty look as he pronged a potato. “I think it’s a sad day when cops break the bond that connects all Assenheimers. We’re a family of garbage collectors, Mr. Halloran. Always have. Always will. Not cops. Garbage collectors. It’s a noble profession.”

“So is being a cop.”

Yvonne’s father shook his grizzled head. The man was even bigger than the rest of them. No wonder Yvonne was a big girl. With this gene pool, she’d have to be. “We’re not saying being a cop is a lesser thing than being a sanitation worker, Matt. We’re saying Assenheimers are garbagemen.” He extended a coal shovel sized hand at Yvonne. “And garbagewomen Not cops.”

“I get that, Mr. Assenheimer. And I admire you and your sons. Garbage collectors are the unsung heroes of our time. If not for you, cities would drown in their own waste, and the whole fabric of society would grind to a screeching halt.”

There were murmurs of consent all around the table, then one of the younger hulks piped up. He wore his hair and beard long, and looked like he’d escaped an episode of Game of Thrones. “You have to understand, Yvonne is our little sister, Mr. Matt. And what we know about cops?” He shook his head. “It’s a dangerous business to be in. Before you know it, you’re lying six feet under with a bullet hole in your skull. We Assenheimers are mighty protective of our own.”

“I promise you I won’t let any harm come to your sister, young man.”

The man mountain waggled his beard. “You can’t stop a bullet when it’s got her name on it.”

“I can take of myself, Ernest. I don’t need you or Matt or anybody else to do it for me, thank you very much.”

She sounded pissed off, Matt thought, which was a quality that endeared her to him. No meek little woman, that Yvonne.

“I know, V. Just sayin’.”

“Just sayin’ what? That I can’t take care of myself?”

“Don’t get mad at me for looking out for your best interests,” mumbled the one called Ernest.

“I think this pot roast is delicious,” Izzy piped up. She hadn’t said a word, merely shoveled as much food into her mouth as possible in the shortest amount of time. Matt wondered how she maintained that slim physique with such a voracious appetite.

“Thank you, dear. At least somebody at this table appreciates my cooking.” Mrs. Assenheimer threw a dark look at her husband, who blanched.

“It’s really incredibly good, Mrs. Assenheimer,” Matt said, rubbing his well-filled tummy.

The eight Assenheimer men quickly joined in the chorus, and heaped praise on the one-of-a-kind pot roast.

“I like being a cop.” Izzy’s voice sounded clear as a bell, and silenced the room. “I think it’s cool that we get to chase the bad guys and put them away. To me it’s much the same as being a sanwoman. We pick up the trash, and make it go away, so the city can go about its business undisturbed.”

Assenheimer senior looked at Izzy as if he’d just seen a ghost, then suddenly he broke into a booming laugh. “Iz!” he exclaimed. “You’re absolutely right! Being a cop is like being a garbageman! We both collect garbage and put it away!”

Murmurs of assent were heard around the table, and the scowls on the faces of the Assenheimer men were finally replaced with expressions of mirth.

Suddenly, Ernest rose to his feet, shoving his chair back with force. It scraped across the floor before toppling over and crashing down. “Yvonne! Izzy!” He abruptly raised his glass. “Congratulations on your new jobs!”

“Thanks, Ernie!” squeaked Izzy, and hopped up from the table to fling herself around the bearded giant’s neck. The man beamed at the unexpected treat. It was the starting sign for the others to raise their glasses and toast to Yvonne and Izzy’s new professions, and when Joe’s eyes met Yvonne’s dad, he was relieved to find them mellow and absolutely devoid of hostility.

The big guy moved over to Matt, and whispered in his ear, “Take care of my little girl for me, Matt. She’s the only one I have.”

Matt, moved, slapped the older man on his back. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to her, Mr. Assenheimer.”

“Gerald, please. You’ve sat at our table. You’ve eaten our food. You’re one of us now, Matt.”

“Thanks, Gerald.”

Mrs. Assenheimer then disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and came back out with a plate of apple pie. The rest of the meal passed by uneventfully, with pleasant banter, and when Matt found Yvonne stealing glances at him, he gave her a warm smile. He liked these Assenheimers. And if he was totally honest, he liked her, too. A lot.

His ringing cell phone wiped the pleasant thought from his mind, and when he checked the readout, he saw it was Kathleen Harridan. Dammit. Pressing a finger in one ear, he picked up.

“Kathleen?”

“We’re in trouble, Matt. Big trouble. We need to meet. Now.”

Yvonne walked into the kitchen, carrying empty plates. She was humming a gay tune to herself, and only stopped when she noticed her mother giving her an appraising look.

“You like that boy, don’t you?”

Yvonne almost dropped the plates. “Huh?” She felt her cheeks brighten, and knew her body had given her away even before her mouth had.

Her mother stood with her back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and gave her a knowing smile. “I knew it. You really like him.”

She set the plates in the sink before she dropped them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mom.”

“Oh, don’t be coy with me, young lady. I probably know you better than you know yourself, so tell me the truth.”

She rolled her eyes. “Mom. He’s my boss.”

“So? That hasn’t stopped you before.”

Yvonne’s cheeks brightened even more. She’d briefly been enamored with DeLantern the first week on the job. The man had been so big, so wholesome looking, she’d thought of nothing else than to become Mrs. DeLantern one day. Until she’d been introduced to the real Mrs. DeLantern. And the three little DeLanterns. Her infatuation had magically melted away.

She still regretted having ever spilled this guilty secret to her mother. It was just like her to hang on to the memory like a clam to its shell. She swore Mom would never let her live it down. At least she hadn’t told anyone else. She’d have been the laughing stock of the whole department and would never have been able to face her boss again.

“That was different. Merely a girlish infatuation.”

Mom cocked an eyebrow. “So you’re admitting it. You have feelings for Matt.”

“I—” She closed her mouth. She’d already said too much.

“He seems very nice.” She winked lasciviously. “And very handsome.”

“He is. Nice, I mean.” She hesitated, then added, “All right. He’s handsome, I guess. In a rugged kinda way.”

“Which is just the way you like it.” It wasn’t a question. Mother knew best.

She leaned her hands on the counter. “I’m sure he’s married, Mom. Or engaged or otherwise hooked up with some gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Matt Halloran is thirty-four, single, and has never been married. He’s an only child, and his dearest wish growing up was to have siblings, which is why he likes our family so much. He’d love to spend more time with you, as he feels you’re a beautiful, strong, smart woman. And he finds you fascinating.”

Yvonne looked up, aghast. “Mom! What did you do? Interrogate the man?”

Mom gave a little shrug. “Just had a little chat, that’s all.”

“So he thinks I’m fascinating, huh? I wonder where he gets that idea.”

“You are fascinating, honey, and quite the catch.”

“Oh, please, Mom. Just look at me.” She gestured at her bulging chest. “I’m fat! Fascinating is just another word for interesting. He probably thinks I’m some kind of freak” Then it dawned on her. “Did he really say I was beautiful?”

“He did, and judging from the sparkle in his eye, he meant it, too.”

Yvonne chewed her lower lip. No man had ever called her beautiful. A lot of guys had commented on her sizable bust, which had been one of her most prominent features since hitting puberty, but beautiful? It wasn’t an adjective commonly used to describe her. Though men had called her hot before, and smoking, they’d never considered her pretty.

It was her bone structure, she knew. She was a big girl, just like her brothers and her father. Somehow nature had mixed things up when they’d made her, and instead of slipping her some of her mother’s genes, they’d dumped in all of her father’s instead. The only asset she had were her giant boobs, which seemed to distract men from the rest of her sizable frame. And when she was totally honest, she would give points to her face as well. Though her face was a lot rounder than she liked, it was lovely, radiating good health and that wholesome quality most associated with Hallmark Channel movies.

Mom tucked a straying lock of blond hair behind her ear. “You are lovely, honey. Simply lovely. Any man should consider himself very lucky to catch your eye.”

“Well, he caught my eye all right, and my fist, and my foot…” Her voice trailed off. She so shouldn’t discuss these things with her mother.

As she had feared, Mom gave her an inquisitive frown. “You hit your boss? Is that why his nose looks so funny?”

“And his eye. And pretty much all of him, I guess.” Though she hadn’t seen what Matt Halloran looked like sans clothes, she just knew he was all lean, hard muscle. And probably bruised all over because of her.

Mom leaned against the butcher block. “Tell me all. I’m listening.”

She would have avoided having this particular conversation, but her mother’s eye brooked no escape. So she reluctantly acquiesced and painted the picture of her first two days on the job in broad strokes, leaving out some of the more technical details and focusing on the human element.

Her mother’s reaction was typical. She broke into laughter until the tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, dear. You do have way with men, honey. Now that you finally found a keeper, you can’t keep from pounding him into a pulp.”

“Well, not really a pulp. Matt is pretty resilient.”

“He must be, to still like you after all the beating he sustained.” She frowned. “You don’t think he’s one of
those
guys, do you?”

“One of what guys, Mom?”

“A, um, whatchamacallit. Oh, you know what I mean. Guys who love to be punished.”

“A masochist? Nah. I’m sure he isn’t. You should have seen his face after I punched his lights out for the third time. He was ready to kill me.”

Mom gave her a long look. “I think he’s perfect for you. But perhaps try not to beat him up. He seems determined to like you, but if you keep knocking him about the place, he might reconsider. Men don’t like to be hit by girls, you know.”

“Oh, I know, Mom.” She’d kicked the living daylights out of her brothers on more than one occasion growing up, and they still resented it. “Trust me. I won’t hit Matt again. Next time I do, he might just hit back. And judging from what I saw of him, he packs quite the punch.”

Matt wasn’t big and hulking, like the Assenheimer brood. He was more the wiry, muscular type. But in Yvonne’s experience, those were the ones you had to watch out for. They were much stronger than you’d give them credit for. Lean, mean and lightning fast, that was Matt Halloran in a nutshell.

Mom had started on the dishes, and Yvonne automatically grabbed a dish towel.

“I told Matt he was more than welcome to drop by any time.”

Oh, dear. “You did? And what did he say?”

“Oh, he said he’d love to. Like I said, he’s an only child, and I could tell from the way he accepted my invitation, that he would love to get to know our family a little better.” She gave Yvonne a meaningful look. “And you, of course.”

Yvonne didn’t respond. This was all too weird. Her boss? Taking a fancy to her? She just couldn’t believe it. She decided not to get her hopes up too much. After all, there’d been other men who’d chased her, only to turn into complete a-holes when she finally gave in to their wooing.

If there was anything she knew about men, it was that they were weird. And that she simply couldn’t trust her own judgment when it came to them. She liked Matt, she couldn’t deny it, and perhaps he liked her too, but for all she knew, he simply appreciated her as a valued employee. Nothing more. That, and she still had to work with the man on a daily basis. He was her boss, for Christ’s sakes.

“Let’s just wait and see,” she finally said, and decided to take things slow. Glacially slow, in fact. After all, in spite of what Matt had told her mother, he might just show up at work one day, Mrs. Halloran and three kids in tow, just like DeLantern.

“It’s Grant. He’s gone.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, but then Matt was with the program again. He shook his head, clearing it from all thought of Yvonne and the delicious pot roast dinner he’d just enjoyed. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”