9 The Hitwoman's Downward Dog (8 page)

"Then who wants to tell me what’s happening here?"

Disengaging herself from the death grip Loretta had on her arm, Susan stepped forward, wringing her hands. "It was nothing, dear."

"Nothing?" I looked back and forth between the two men who’d been shouting at one another. Both hung their heads guiltily and wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

I frowned at Susan, waiting for an answer.

She shrugged helplessly. "It was all a big misunderstanding."

"Oh yeah?" I challenged, not believing her.

"Yes. It was nothing."

I looked to Loretta for confirmation. She shuttered her gaze behind her fake eyelashes.

I looked to Susan again, wanting her to tell me the truth, needing to hear it, no matter what it was.

She remained silent.

"Wow," I muttered bitterly. "You haven’t lied to me that blatantly in a long time."

Susan winced, but remained silent.

"Armani’s missing, Katie’s being released from the hospital in a week, and you’re lying to me."

"I’m sorry," Susan apologized weakly.

It wasn’t enough. Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled out of the dining room and down into the basement.

Piss, sprawled out on the sofa, watched me with her good eye. "What happened to you, Sugar?"

Unable to speak because of the painful lump in my throat, I shook my head.

"Did you lose them both?"

It took me a second to figure out what she meant. Groaning loudly, I raced to open the cellar storm doors. Sure enough, DeeDee was there waiting to be let in.

She almost bowled me over as she bounded inside. "Hungry."

"In a second." I ran up the stairs into the backyard, slamming the storm door closed behind me. "I’m never going to hear the end of this," I warned myself.

Running over to my car, I yanked open the door and peered inside.

"You. Forgot. Me." Disdain dripped from every syllable that came out of God’s mouth.

"I was distracted," I told the lizard, hoping he’d drop the matter.

"You
forgot
me."

"I’m sorry."

He narrowed his reptilian eyes at me. "Sorry? I could have died."

"I don’t think so," I countered defensively.

"Carbon monoxide poisoning. That could have killed me."

"But the car wasn’t running."

"I could have suffocated."

"But the car isn’t airtight," I argued.

"Hypothermia." He waved his tail triumphantly. "I almost succumbed to the elements and all that would have been left of me was the weathered husk of my corpse."

"I should be so lucky," I told him.

He dropped his tail at that and turned away, sulking.

I took a deep breath and silently counted to ten before I addressed his sullen back. "I’m very sorry I forgot you here."

He shook his head from side-to-side but refused to look at me. "No you’re not."

"I am." I meant it, if only because if I hadn’t forgotten him, I wouldn’t have had to beg for his forgiveness.

He must have heard the truth in my voice because he turned to face me. "How will you make it up to me?"

"Make it up to you?"

"You must perform an act of contrition."

"Right away?" I asked, thinking that finding Armani and figuring out what to do about Katie were higher on my To-Do list than stroking the oversized ego of a miniature lizard.

"No," he granted benevolently. "You can have some time to figure out how best to win my favor."

"Awesome," I murmured. "Now can we can go inside?" I extended my hand to lift him off the dashboard

Scrambling onto my palm, he said, "I thought you’d never ask."

"It’s been a hell of a day." I closed the car door and walked across the backyard. I’d almost made it to the cellar door when I got the feeling I was being watched. I glanced at the house and couldn’t see any well-meaning relatives keeping an eye on me. A chill skittered down my spine.

"Hey, Mags," a familiar voice called softly from behind.

Every muscle in my body contracted as the fight-or-flight instinct kicked in before my brain recognized the source.

"Ow!" God bellowed.

Realizing I’d balled my hands into fists, inadvertently crushing him, I forced myself to relax.

"I have sensitive skin," the lizard groused.

Ignoring him, I turned to search for Patrick Mulligan, grateful for the shadows that would hide my expression. I managed to sound calmer than I felt. "You have got to stop sneaking up on me like that."

"I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I was coming to visit you."

"Visitors use the front door," I reminded him, deciding it was better to tap into the anger I was nursing against him for refusing to help me find Armani than to blurt out I was glad to see him.

"You know the rules," he chided gently.

Patrick Mulligan’s rule number one was "Don’t Get Caught," which was why ever since I’d moved into the B&B, he’d been sneaking in the storm cellar door. Things had been much simpler for our rendezvous when I had my own apartment, but a mad bomber had destroyed it.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" My words were short and clipped conveying my unhappiness with him.

"I wanted to talk to you about your friend."

"The one you won’t help me find?"

"Patrick?" DeeDee whined from behind the other side of the cellar door. "Patrick?"

Glancing around nervously, the redhead suggested, "Maybe we should talk about this inside?"

Knowing that I’d never hear the end of it from the dog if I didn’t let her see him, I nodded.

He opened the door and motioned for me to walk in ahead of me. He wasn’t being a gentleman, he wanted to make sure there was no one there waiting for me who might catch him in the act of sneaking in.

"Is there anyone else in here?" I asked Piss as I descended the stairs.

"Just us, Sugar," she purred.

"The coast is clear," I told Patrick before carrying God over to his terrarium.

"First you forgot me, then you almost crushed me," the lizard griped.

Knowing it wasn’t the ideal time to apologize for my irresponsibility, I placed him down carefully and turned around.

Patrick was sitting on the couch with DeeDee on one side of him and Piss on the other

He stroked them both and they in turn looked up at him adoringly.

"Traitors," I muttered beneath my breath. Sure, he was handsome and charming and had come through for me in the past, but hadn’t they gotten the memo that I was none too pleased with Patrick Mulligan at the moment?

After all, he was choosing to stay with his wife, who was engaged in an affair with another woman whose husband had tried to kill him. Sure I might have my quirks and a bizarre family, but surely, if he truly cared, he’d choose me over
that
insanity.

"Brian Griswald is helping me look into Armani’s disappearance," I said in a rush, needing to make it clear that I wasn’t the one adoring the cop/hitman. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but I hoped it would be enough to goad Patrick into thinking he should have done
something
to help me.

"Good." He nodded his approval.

Not exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.

"What about Jack Stern? Is he helping you?" Patrick’s voice was deceptively bland, but the corners of his eyes tightened when he asked the question.

"Sort of," I admitted.

"Sort of? Do you really need me to tell you that the guy’s job is to investigate crime and report the truth? Do you want him finding out the truth about you?"

"Is that why you are friends with him?" I countered snippily.

"
I
met him through police work. How do you know him?"

"I met him at the hospital."

"Where you meet regularly with a known crime boss," the hitman pointed out.

He had a point there, but I wasn’t about to let him win anything in this conversation, so I didn’t react.

"Be careful with him," Patrick warned. "He’s a black-and-white kind of guy and wouldn’t understand the gray area we operate in."

"I don’t understand the gray area
you
operate in," I countered.

He raised his eyebrows. "You don’t? I thought our gray areas kind of blend together, being people who kill for money and all."

I winced. It might be the truth, but I still didn’t like thinking of myself as a hired killer. "I’m talking about your wife."

"It’s complicated."

"So you’ve said."

He stopped petting the animals and leaned forward. "I care about you, Mags."

And I believed him. But I wasn’t sure it was enough.

"Why else would I be here?" Patrick pressed, trying to convince me his feelings were real.

"You wanted to talk to me about Armani?" I reminded him, pointedly leading the way out of the quicksand of our relationship.

"Are you angry at me?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

He blinked, taken aback by the succinct, blunt answer, but I have to give him credit, he recovered quickly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"So this is going to be a monosyllabic conversation?"

I shrugged.

"Mad, Maggie, you?" DeeDee panted worriedly.

"Not at you, honey," Piss assured him with a chugging purr. "She’s none too pleased with this tomcat, though I must admit I found his declaration kind of romantic."

It would have been nice if she’d made a show of siding with me, but instead she rubbed the top of her head against Patrick’s palm.

He sighed, rubbing his other hand over his face as though that would erase the tension between us.

I lifted my chin, refusing to apologize or do anything to improve the mood.

"So about Armani," Patrick began, resigned to the fact nothing between us was going to be resolved any time soon. "The reason I can’t help you find her is that I’ve been assigned to another case. A high-priority case. A police officer has gone missing."

"Yeah?" I asked like I didn’t care, like I didn’t already know Joy Gilbert was in danger, like she and Armani didn’t have a connection. There was a time when I would have told Patrick everything I knew without bothering to take a breath, but not now. Now I played my cards close to the vest, collecting information rather than sharing it.

"So it’s going to take a lot of my time. I’m under intense scrutiny."

"And yet you’re here," I drawled sarcastically.

"I wanted to explain why I can’t help you."

"Well you’ve done that, so if there’s nothing else…" I pointed in the direction of the cellar door.

Disentangling himself from the cat and dog, he stood.

"Thanks for stopping by," I said with a forced airiness that caused a muscle in his jaw to jump. A heady sense of satisfaction filled me knowing I’d hit a nerve.

"There was something else," he murmured, closing the distance between us with a few steps.

I knew what he wanted to do and made no move to stop him, because as confused as I was about my standing in his life, I wanted it too.

The moment his lips found mine, my anger at him was forgotten. I’d missed being in his arms too much to resist. His kiss coaxed out acceptance, then forgiveness, and finally a mindless passion that had my body melting into his as our tongues danced. Together we burned fast and hot, our physical attraction incinerating things like common sense.

Thankfully, the animals heard the knock on the door. The cacophony they created extinguished our ardor more effectively than a fire extinguisher.

"Are you trying to get caught, you imbeciles?" God thundered from his terrarium.

"Cool it, lovers," Piss hissed, digging her claws into my leg for emphasis.

"Door! Door!" DeeDee barked, racing to the bottom of the stairs that led toward the entrance to the house.

Shoving Patrick away from me, I yelled, "Just a sec."

"I wanted to talk to you," Aunt Susan called through the door.

"Just a sec," I shouted again, louder, waving Patrick toward the storm door exit. He ran toward it.

"I know you’re angry at me," Susan said, turning the door handle.

Terrified she’d spot Patrick making his exit, I did the only thing possible under the circumstances. "Stop her," I ordered the animals.

Both the dog and cat sprang into action.

DeeDee flew up the stairs barking wildly. "Her stop! Her stop!"

Piss wasn’t far behind, yowling something that sounded like, "Obey the boundary, beeyotch."

Thankfully, Susan jumped backward so DeeDee didn’t knock her over. With her attention fixed on the two slightly mad animals, she didn’t notice Patrick slipping out.

"Oh my," Susan exclaimed, covering her heart with her hand.

"Don’t scare her," I shouted, running up the stairs to chase the four-legged creatures. Reaching the top, I rounded on them, put my hands on my hips and winked at them before scolding them with my deepest voice, "What do you two think you’re doing?"

"Mad Maggie?" DeeDee whined uncertainly, wiggling her stub of a tail.

"No, honey," Piss explained. "She’s just playing. Now pretend to be scared and run and hide behind the sofa."

DeeDee did as she told.

I looked at the cat expectantly as she sat on the step, staring up at me with her one good eye.

"I’m not going anywhere, Sugar," she told me with a bored flick of her tail. "I’m a cat. We don’t do the whole loyal servant act thing."

"She’s right," God piped up from his terrarium. "They don’t. Dogs are loyal. Cats are sneaky."

"Cunning," Piss corrected.

"Sly," God countered.

Piss flexed her claws. "Crafty."

While they had their thesaurus battle of the wits, I said to Aunt Susan. "Maybe we should talk up there." I closed the door, locking all the non-humans away.

"Let’s go outside," Susan suggested, which told me she didn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation. "In the backyard."

"How about the front porch?" I suggested, worried that Patrick could still be in the backyard.

"Marlene and her young man are using the front porch."