9 The Hitwoman's Downward Dog (9 page)

"Oh, okay, backyard it is. Just let me get something to drink first."

I took my sweet time choosing a drink and pouring it in order to give Patrick time to make his escape, but eventually I couldn’t stall anymore and I led the way outdoors.

"Zeke has been around a lot," Susan remarked as we walked toward the back.

"Uh-huh," I murmured distractedly, scanning the area for any sign of the redheaded hitman who’d just kissed me senseless. I didn’t spot him.

"Are you two, um, romantically involved?" Susan asked.

I tripped over my own two feet as, for a brief moment, I thought she was talking about Patrick. Realizing she’d meant Zeke, I hurried to deny her assumption as I regained my balance. "Oh no. Not at all."

"Not at all?" She asked gently. "He is a good-looking fellow, who isn’t without his charms."

I couldn’t argue with her. I also couldn’t tell her that Zeke was a conman. Somehow I didn’t think that would make him the ideal mate for me in her book.

"And he cares about you."

"And I care about him," I said, settling into a lawn chair, "but not that way."

Susan sat in the chair beside me. "I worry you’ll end up alone."

Thinking that between Zeke, Patrick, and Jack I could barely get a moment to myself, I chuckled. "I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon."

Susan sighed. "I know it’s a big adjustment living here after having your own place."

"It’s not that bad," I assured her.

"This wasn’t what was supposed to happen." The bitterness in my aunt’s tone caught me by surprise.

I twisted in my seat, trying to get a better look at her face, but she was cloaked in shadow. "It’s not the most ideal situation," I admitted carefully.

"It’s all Bob’s fault." Susan spat the words out like they were a curse.

"I’m not following," I admitted, thoroughly confused.

"You were supposed to be there." She pointed at a spot in the rear of the yard where the barn used to be. It hadn’t really been a barn, but it’s what my sisters and I had always called the large, red building.

It wasn’t there anymore, having been demolished in order for a place to be built for me to live with Katie. A place that had never materialized.

I was never sure why the plan had seemingly evaporated, but with everything else I’d had going on, I hadn’t asked. It had seemed more prudent to hide behind a curtain of chosen ignorance than to deal with whatever problem had occurred.

In doing so, I hadn’t taken into the consideration that my aunts might not appreciate me being underfoot (literally, since I was living in the basement).

"I could move to Theresa’s old place," I offered. "Katie might be more comfortable there."

"You can’t."

"Why not?"

"It’s been rented to someone else."

"What do you mean 'it’s been rented to someone else?'" My voice squeaked with outrage. I’d never liked the place, but it had been the home where my sister had chosen to raise her daughter.

Susan folded her hands in her lap. When she spoke, it was slowly as though she chose every word with care. "Theresa and Dirk were three months behind on their rent when the accident occurred."

"Rent?" I asked. "I thought they owned it."

Susan shook her head. "The landlord had already begun eviction proceedings."

"How did I not know about this?"

"You were living your own life and you thought your big sister could do no wrong."

"No," I spat out, a childhood’s worth of never measuring up to Theresa spilling off my tongue like a dam had broken. "You’re the one who acted like she was perfect."

Susan bowed her head. "Is that what you remember?"

I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat, wishing I hadn’t said anything. I wasn’t proud of the fact I’d been jealous of Theresa and her "perfect" life. It was petty of me now, when she was gone, to begrudge her the advantages she’d had.

"We made too much of a fuss over her," Susan admitted sadly.

"She was the oldest," I excused automatically. "Of course you spoiled her."

Susan shook her head slowly from side-to-side.

My stomach flip-flopped as I remembered the trees at the family gravesite. A tree planted for each child. Five trees, but as far as I knew, I only had three sisters. Was Susan denying the fact that Theresa was the firstborn?

Before I could ask, Susan let out a shuddering sob that tore at my heart.

Instinctively, I leapt up and wrapped my arms around her shaking shoulders. "It’s okay," I murmured, even though I wasn’t quite sure what was wrong. "It’s okay."

"She was so much like your mother," Susan whispered. "We were afraid."

"You were afraid of Theresa?" I asked, confused.

"Afraid she’d turn out like her. She was fragile. She needed to be shored up."

Suddenly I viewed the lavish praise my aunts had bestowed on Theresa differently. It hadn’t been because they’d thought the sun had risen and set on everything she did, they had been trying to help her.

"And she did end up like her," Susan continued. "She married the wrong man. She was starting to unravel."

"She wasn’t unraveling." I defended my sister automatically, without thinking. "You make her sound like a scarf or something."

"You didn’t see," Susan said gently. "You didn’t want to see."

I closed my eyes, trying to remember what Theresa had been like at the end from another perspective. Had her determined cheerfulness been a form of mania? Had her forgetfulness been significant?

Susan hugged me tightly. "There’s no use dwelling on the past. We can’t change it. We should focus on the future, like what you’re going to do with Katie. Sit. We’ll figure this out."

I sat back down in my chair and stared at the empty spot where I was supposed to have lived.

Susan said quietly, "You’ve never even asked about what happened to the project. Why not?"

I shrugged. "I figured there were reasons."

"Your father used to do that," Susan scoffed.

She’d never been a fan of my dad, not that I could blame her considering he was a serial petty criminal. "Do what?" I asked, knowing full well I wouldn’t like the answer.

"Bury his head in the sand. Hope a problem would disappear if he just pretended it didn’t exist."

I winced, but knew she was right. I’d been pretending to be unaware of a number of problems.

"Not that I blame you, dear." Susan reached out and patted my arm reassuringly. "You’ve had so much going on and you’ve done such a marvelous job with Katie and Marlene."

"I didn’t do anything with Marlene," I protested.

"Nonsense. You brought her home. You’ve smoothed things over between her and the rest of us. Don’t think it went unnoticed or was unappreciated."

Tears pricked the back of my eyes at the unexpected praise. So often it felt like I messed up everything I touched; it was nice to know someone thought I’d done something right.

"They’re getting ready to discharge Katie and I’m not ready," I choked out.

"Yes you are." Susan squeezed my arm. "It’s a great responsibility, but you’re up to the task."

I shook my head, vehemently denying her faith in me.

"What are you worried about?" my aunt asked gently.

"I’m not her mother and I don’t know what I’m doing."

"I know the feeling."

I glanced over at her.

She stroked my arm. "I felt the same way when I realized I’d be responsible for raising you and your sisters. Of course it wasn’t the same, but I remember feeling terrified by the prospect."

"You were?"

"Of course. And yet I muddled through and you will too." I could hear the smile in your voice. "You turned out okay, didn’t you?"

Considering I’m a paid assassin who talks to animals, I wasn’t sure her assessment was all that accurate, but I didn’t argue.

Taking my silence for agreement, she leaned back in her chair and studied the stars. "Besides you’ll have me to lean on, as well as Loretta and Leslie."

"Thank you."

As though she knew I suspected that her sisters wouldn’t be much use, she said, "You may be surprised at how much help Loretta and Leslie can provide."

"If you say so," I murmured.

She chuckled, but didn’t push the point.

We lapsed into companionable silence, contemplating what the future held with Katie.

"Mind if I interrupt?" a voice called.

We turned to find U.S. Marshal Lawrence Griswald watching us from a respectful distance away.

"Please do," Susan replied.

I motioned for him to approach.

As he neared, Susan stood up. She kissed him on the cheek. "I was about to tell Margaret what happened with the barn. Would you mind doing the honors? I want to go and check in on Templeton. He and Bob got into a shouting match earlier." Her voice cracked with the strain of the revelation. "Margaret had to play referee."

"If that’s what you want," Griswald murmured softly. I got the distinct impression from his tone he’d just agreed to perform an unpleasant task.

He waited until Aunt Susan was back inside the B&B before he sank down into the chair she’d occupied. "Any news about your missing friend?"

"Not yet."

"I know you’re worried about Armani, but Brian’s good at his job. If anyone can find her, he can." His pride in his nephew was unmistakable.

Not knowing what to say, I remained silent.

"How far did she get into the story about that fiasco?" Griswald pointed to the empty spot where The Barn had stood.

"She didn’t really."

He sighed heavily.

"She shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that," I said sympathetically. "I can ask her some other time."

"But you won’t," Griswald stated. "No offense, but your family is quite adept at pretending problems don’t exist."

"Ain’t that the truth," I agreed with mock enthusiasm.

Griswald guffawed. "At least
you
have a sense of humor about it. Others seem to have been born without a funny bone." He grew serious. "So the plan was to tear the old structure down and build a place for you and your niece to live. That way you’d have some privacy, but you’d have your extended family nearby to lend a hand whenever you needed them."

"That was the plan," I agreed.

"Your friends donated the money they’d received as wedding gifts to help with the construction costs."

"They did." I smiled, thinking of my childhood friend Alice and her new husband Lamont.

"Nice friends."

"The best," I agreed.

"So the building,"

"The barn," I interjected.

"The barn was demolished," Griswald continued resolutely. "But the construction never took place. Care to guess why?"

I shrugged. "A permit problem?"

Griswald shook his head. "Bob lost the money, or more accurately, his bookkeeper wiped out his accounts and the money was lost."

Considering Bob was Griswald’s competition in the fight for Susan’s love, I thought he was very generous to phrase it so fairly.

"Is that why she broke up with him?" I asked curiously.

"Well I’d like to think it was because I swept off her feet with my good looks and sparkling wit," Griswald revealed with self-deprecating humor, "but I think the money thing probably had a lot to do with it."

"So Bob’s loss was your gain," I quipped.

Griswald shook his head, but I could hear the amusement in his voice. "That’s one way to look at it."

"Perspective is everything," I told him. "Switch a couple things around and you understand things diff…" I trailed off as I heard what I was saying.

"Are you okay?" Griswald asked worriedly.

"Fine, just fine," I murmured, my mind racing.

What if I needed to change my perspective on Armani’s abduction? What if I’d been searching for the wrong person all along?

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought I was wasting my time looking for Armani.

The moment I returned to the basement God said, "The phone’s been ringing non-stop, but whoever is calling hasn’t left a message."

Picking up myself, I glanced at the call log and saw he was right. An unfamiliar number had called six times since I’d gone outside to talk to Susan, but there was no message.

I was debating whether to call the number when the phone rang.

"Answer it," God ordered. "If for no other reason than to stop the infernal racket."

I crossed my eyes at him as I said, "Hello?"

"I’m disappointed in you, Ms. Lee." Ms. Whitehat’s cold disdain sent a chill skipping down my spine. "You haven’t done anything to find Detective Gilbert."

"The cops are investigating," I said defensively.

"That doesn’t preclude your involvement."

"It makes it more complicated," I countered.

"Which doesn’t absolve you of your responsibility. Unless of course you’d prefer for Zeke to pay for your failure to do what was asked of you."

"No," I begged. "Please don’t do that."

"Then find her," Whitehat demanded icily. "You’re running out of time."

She disconnected the call. I sank onto the sofa feeling weak. It was bad enough that Armani was missing, but knowing that something could happen to Zeke because of me took my breath away.

"What’s wrong, Sugar?" Piss purred, climbing up beside me on the sofa.

"Everything,"

"Don’t you think that’s a bit of an exaggeration?" God chided from his terrarium.

"Not really," I muttered. "Whitehat’s mad at me, Armani’s missing, Katie’s going to be released from the hospital, and I’m not in a position to help any of them." I held my head in my hands, feeling like I couldn’t breathe because of the responsibilities hanging over me.

DeeDee nudged my knee with her nose. "Okay be it will."

I wanted to believe in her simple faith, but she had no idea of how badly I was letting down those I cared about.

"Are you just going to sit there feeling sorry for yourself or are you going to get off your butt and do something?" God demanded.

Before I could tell him to shut up and leave me alone, my phone rang again. A glance at the display revealed another unfamiliar number. I didn’t answer it.