9 The Hitwoman's Downward Dog (16 page)

I knew better than to ask her why. Instead I asked, "And how was Ike Medd connected to all this?"

Armani let loose a string of Spanish words I didn’t understand. Not that I needed them translated. It was perfectly understandable that they were less than kind.

I waited for her to finish her tirade before telling her, "That’s great and all, but you didn’t really answer my question."

"He was my fault," a male voice replied quietly.

"Aahh!" I jumped, startled since I hadn’t realized there was anyone else in the darkened space. "How many people are in here?"

"Just the three of us," Armani said.

I did a quick mental count. Me plus Armani plus Joy equaled three. Was the man a ghost? I balled my hands into fists wishing the thought away. I had enough to contend with, I didn't need wayward spirits thrown into the mix.

"And you," Armani added.

"What?"

"The three of us and you."

I let out a shaky sigh of relief, knowing the other occupant was still in the land of the living.

"I brought Medd," in the unseen man continued. "Joy was spending a lot of time talking to Armani. I needed to know what they were discussing."

The more he spoke, the more convinced I became that his voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it.

"So it wasn't true love," Armani complained bitterly. "I was set up from the beginning."

Hearing her hurt, I murmured, "I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as Medd will be," Armani pledged. "When I get out of here, I'm going to make him pay."

"I don't think that's going to happen," I said gently.

"Oh yes it will, you watch."

"He's dead."

The silence in the darkened space was more uncomfortable than nails across a chalkboard.

"How?" Joy asked finally.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that they found his body floating in the river."

"Son of a bitch," the man muttered. "My crazy father is going to kill us all."

My gut tightened, cutting off my breath. That's why the voice was familiar. I was trapped with Lucky O'Hara. The man Patrick had once asked me to steal a flash drive from. The one Ms. Whitehat had told me to save Joy from in the first place. Suddenly, I was grateful for the pitch-black surroundings, otherwise the adopted son of the O'Hara family would recognize me from our time together in Atlantic City, and I really didn't want to explain myself in front of Armani and Joy.

Remembering Delveccio’s story about Lucky’s adoptive-grandfather’s demise, I was inclined to think he was right.

"You don't know that," Joy hurriedly assured him. "We're still alive."

"Only because they don't have what they want. Once they do, we're expendable," the man countered.

"But, just like I predicted, Maggie's here to rescue us," Armani reminded him cheerily.

"How's that going?" the man asked sarcastically.

"Don't be such a downer, Lucky," Armani snapped.

"Are they looking for us?" the detective asked.

"Yes. Lots of people."

"And yet you're the one who found me?"

"Well to be honest, I was looking for Armani, finding you was just a bonus of sorts," I replied weakly.

"And does anyone know where you are?"

I thought of Jack. "Sort of. I’m really confused though about how you ended up here."

"It’s Joy’s fault," Armani said quickly, but without malice.

"True." Joy sighed.

"You were just doing your job," Armani soothed.

"Could you
please
just explain," I demanded impatiently.

"I collared Lucky," Joy began.

"That’s me," he called.

"Guessed that," I muttered.

"But instead of pressing charges, I convinced him to go to work as my C.I."

"Criminal Informant," Armani helpfully, even though I didn’t need the explanation since I’ve picked up a lot of crime lingo through osmosis since God watches so many investigative television shows.

"And it was going great," Joy continued. "He gave me information. I made busts."

"But then I decided I wanted out," Lucky interrupted.

"Out of the C.I. thing or out of the family business?" I asked.

"Both. But it wasn’t like either side was going to be eager to let me go."

Thinking about the hold Ms. Whitehat had over me, I murmured, "I understand."

"So we decided that if he got me some really great information, I’d help him get out," Joy explained.

"And did you?" I asked.

"Well duh!" Armani moaned her exasperation. "Why else would we have ended up here? But it’s all okay, since you’re here."

I fervently wished I had her faith that I was going to get her out this mess.

"So what’s the plan?" she asked.

Before I had a chance to answer her, we heard footsteps outside the door.

"C'mon out, yoga princess," Jimmy demanded from the other side of the door.

"Who's that?" Armani whispered.

"Me." I stumbled toward the door as it swung open. The beam of a flashlight was beamed at my face, blinding me. I raised a hand to block the light and my wrist was grabbed. Yanked unceremoniously outside, I tripped, landing on my knees as the door was slammed shut, separating me from those I'd come to rescue.

"How's your phobia?" Jimmy mocked.

I almost didn’t hear him because I was so distracted that a pitchfork lay on the ground in front of me. A fork. Just like Armani had predicted.

"I've been practicing my deep breathing exercises." I squinted at my would-be weapon through the shadows.

"Who sent you?" another man asked.

I looked up at the intimidating man bearing down on me. I knew, from the deadly glint in his dark eyes that he was Seamus O’Hara. Piranha Man!

I couldn’t have answered him even if I’d wanted to because my heartbeat stuttered and my lungs forgot to work when in the presence of such evil.

"Go tell the boys it’s time," Seamus ordered Jimmy.

Jimmy cast me a look that might have been pity before turning on his heel and hurrying off into the shadows.

"I’m only going to ask you this one more time," Seamus said, moving closer. "Who sent you?"

"Sent me?" I squeaked. I scrambled backward, as though I was afraid of him, which I was, but it wasn’t why I moved away from him. I was maneuvering myself to grab the pitchfork.

"Lady," Seamus pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket. The click the blade made as he snapped it open sliced at my soul. "Tell me who sent you before I have to hurt you." He raised the knife toward my face.

I gulped, curling my fingers around the splintered handle. "I'm a friend of Armani's."

"The crazy chick?"

I nodded.

"You're not a cop?"

"I work at an insurance company."

He lowered the knife slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"And you managed to find us?"

"I'm resourceful." I tightened all my muscles, prepared to strike.

He chuckled. "You're dead is what you are."

I swung the pitchfork upward, catching him off-guard, but not doing any real damage. He stumbled back, deflecting the blow with his arm. Before I could hit him again, he’d grabbed the farm tool and yanked it from my grip.

"You’re going to pay for that, you stupid bitch."

"Now!" God thundered.

Out of nowhere a blur of fur attacked Seamus. He fell to the ground, screaming like an over-tired toddler, trying to cover his face as DeeDee sank her teeth into his arm. In the struggle, he dropped the knife and pitchfork, both of which I quickly scooped up out of the dirt.

"Stop, DeeDee," I ordered. "Let him go."

She released his arm, but stood over him, snarling, "No Maggie kill. No Maggie kill."

"Please," Seamus begged. Not such a big shot when faced with the deadly teeth of another animal.

Leaving DeeDee to keep him occupied, I leaned the pitchfork against the wall and fumbled with the latch of the door of the building. Finally, it swung open. "C'mon," I urged the captives. "Let's get out of here."

"Told ya so," Armani crowed as the three of them rushed out of the building.

Brandishing the knife at Seamus, I ordered, "Inside, and if you even think about trying anything, the dog will rip you apart limb from limb."

"Limb-limb," the Doberman growled in agreement, teeth flashing.

"You know what I’m going to do to you, Lucky," Seamus threatened, moving to stand.

"Crawl," I ordered, figuring keeping him on the ground gave the dog an advantage.

"You’re not going to get out of here. My men will hunt you down like animals."

"Crawl inside," I ordered forcefully despite the fact every cell in my body was vibrating with fear.

Seamus did as told while his former captives looked on. As soon as he was inside, I waved DeeDee off and kicked Jimmy in the butt, sending him sprawling headfirst onto the floor. Slamming the door shut, I locked him inside. "Okay, let's get out of here."

"How?" Armani asked.

"Way this," DeeDee yipped bounding away.

"Don't you dare forget me again," God demanded imperiously.

"Where are you?" I asked, looking down at the ground in the direction of his voice.

"Where's who?" Joy asked worriedly.

"Here," the lizard directed. "On this pile of rocks."

I bent over and extended my hand so he could clamber up.

"We've got to get out of here," Joy reminded me worriedly.

I ignored her and asked the lizard, "How'd you get through the fence?"

"Is she talking to an imaginary friend?" the cop asked the psychic.

"God works in mysterious ways," Armani replied.

"The beast jumped over it."

I moaned. "But it must be eight feet high."

"There are times when she's impressive," the lizard admitted grudgingly.

"Well how are
we
supposed to get out of here?" I asked.

"I suggest driving."

"Driving?"

"There's a pick-up truck behind the other building."

"Driving is a great idea," Armani interjected, despite the fact she could only hear my half of the conversation.

"Fine," I muttered. "We're driving out of here." I marched toward the building

"Where is she going?" Joy asked as Armani began limping behind me.

"I don't know."

"I don't like this," Joy said.

"I foresaw her rescuing us, if this is the way she does it, I'm going along for the ride," Armani replied calmly. "Never doubt the gift."

"But she was talking to herself," Joy reminded her.

I glanced back at them. "
She
can hear you," I reminded her.

"Ignore her, chiquita." Armani waved me onward with her good hand. "I know you know what you're doing."

I swallowed the incredulous laugh that almost burst out of me. Jack had been right. I should have left this whole rescuing thing to the professionals.

"Do I know you?" Lucky asked, running up beside me.

He'd been so quiet I'd forgotten he was even part of this great escape of ours.

I shook my head, afraid he'd recognize my voice. I just hoped the shadows would obscure my face enough to prevent him from connecting Armani's friend Maggie to the identity I'd assumed when I'd robbed him in Atlantic City.

"It's him," God shrieked. "The one who tried to drown me. My would-be murderer."

I slapped at my shoulder where God balanced like a surfer riding a wave, silently warning him to be quiet.

In Lucky's defense, he didn't intentionally try to kill the lizard. It just kind of happened when Patrick, disguised as a homeless man, had mugged him... It's a long story.

We followed DeeDee around the building and there, just as God had predicted, was a pick-up truck.

"See?" Armani practically squealed. "She knows what she's doing."

I yanked open the door and jumped into the driver's seat. "Please let the keys be here. Please. Please." They weren't in the ignition. I tried the trick that always works on TV of checking behind the sun visor, but they didn't fall into my lap. So much for the escape plan.

"I can hotwire it," Lucky said.

I jumped out to let him in to do his thing. While he worked, I led Armani to the passenger seat. "Who is this guy?" I whispered. Thinking that if, by some miracle we did survive, it would make sense to pretend I didn’t know our passenger. "Should we trust him?"

"He knows Joy."

I looked to Joy for confirmation. The last time I'd seen her and Lucky together, I'd done everything in my power to stop him from turning her into a criminal.

The engine roared to life.

"In. In." I practically shoved Armani into the passenger seat as not-too-distant shouts filled the air.

"Get in the back," Lucky ordered, glancing nervously in the rearview mirror as Jimmy, Bubba, and Buster, brandishing guns, emerged from the building.

Joy and I scrambled up into the open bed of the back of the truck, which was filled with straw.

"Stop!" a man shouted.

"C'mon, DeeDee," I urged. "Jump in."

Before she could, the truck lurched forward.

Slipping on the straw underfoot, I fell to my knees.

And then there were gunshots.

"Run, DeeDee!" God bellowed as men shouted, shots rang out, and Lucky gunned the pick-up’s motor.

The dog didn't hesitate. One moment she was standing there looking vaguely confused, the next she was a black streak, putting as much distance as she could between her and the gunfire.

The truck too picked up speed, bumping along so hard that Joy started to slide toward the still-open truck bed's entrance. Afraid she would fall out, I grabbed her arm and wedged my foot against the wheel well to brace against momentum and gravity. A move that worked pretty well until Lucky suddenly slammed on the brakes while facing downhill, which resulted in Joy and I sliding in the other direction and being slammed against the rear of the truck's cab.

The breath knocked out of me, and my head spinning from the impact, I lay there, stunned. It took a moment for me to figure out that the high-pitched alarm I heard was actually Armani screaming.

"Drive through it," my usually cool friend shrieked hysterically.