Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I
PARKED THREE
blocks away from the location of Garcia’s daughter’s wedding. God, riding along on my shoulder, was uncharacteristically silent as I hurried along uneven sidewalks, fiddling nervously with the poison-filled pendant.

Reaching the parking lot, I bent down as though I was fixing my shoe and he scampered to the ground.

“For Katie,” he intoned solemnly like we were swearing a blood oath or something.

“For Katie.”

Climbing the steps leading to the entrance of the kitchen, I followed God, who skittered inside, unnoticed. I almost jumped out of my skin when someone grabbed my elbow.

“Hey.”

I turned to look at a young woman, who couldn’t have been more than twenty, holding me back.

“You forgot your mask,” she said.

“Mask?” Patrick hadn’t mentioned a mask. There hadn’t been one in the box. My heart started to pound. If I couldn’t get inside, I couldn’t kill Garcia. I couldn’t avenge Theresa.

She rolled her eyes. “The whole reception is a Mardi Gras theme. Have you ever heard of anything tackier?”

I shrugged. I’d spent the day in a dress the color of fish flesh.

“They’ve got spares,” the young woman said. “Take mine. Just don’t let anyone see you without it.” She shook a sequin-trimmed jester mask at me.

“Thanks.” The bell-tipped three points of the jester hat jingled as I slid the plastic half-face mask on, but I didn’t mind. I couldn’t have asked for a better disguise.

Grabbing a tray of stuffed mushrooms, I took a deep breath, and stepped into the party room. The music was already pounding, a smoke machine was churning out enough fog to put a cheesy horror movie to shame, and ravenous guests fell on my loaded tray like a pack of wild hyenas. They emptied it before I could even spot Garcia, which meant I had to return to the kitchen for a refill. It wasn’t the most efficient of plans . . .

When I returned, the crowd had taken to the dance floor. I skirted the perimeter of the parquet, but couldn’t find my target. Disheartened, I looked for God, hoping he’d had better luck.

It was dark, smoky, crowded, and loud, but somehow he must have known I needed him, because suddenly I could hear him calling me.

“Over here, you moronic biped!” he shouted.

Unable to see him, I hurried toward his voice.

“To the left!”

I turned.

“My left, you idiot!”

I turned in the opposite direction. That’s when I spotted him, jumping up and down on a giant heart-shaped ice sculpture. I hustled over.

“Death by hypothermia,” he complained, leaping off the ice and onto the back of my neck. He climbed under my hair like it was a blanket, his cold skin sending shivers down my spine. I’d never cuddled with an ice cube before.

“I can’t find him,” I said.

“That’s because he’s not here.”

“What do you mean he’s not here? The plan hinges on him being here. If he’s not here how the hell am I supposed to—”

“Shhh.” He bit my earlobe for emphasis.

I’d forgotten he had teeth. Instinctively I raised my hand to swat him away.

“Don’t you dare,” he said in his most superior tone.

I lowered my hand.

“Garcia isn’t here because the family is in another room taking pictures.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Because you didn’t shut up. This is your big chance. Go in there and give him a glass of spiked champagne. You’ll have fewer witnesses to identify you, but you’ll still do it in front of his family, which the contractor wants.”

“Contractor?”

“He who laid out the terms of the deal.”

“Hey, you!” a familiar voice called.

I turned slowly and saw the smaller guy who’d wanted to have “fun” with me in the coatroom when I’d gotten caught at the rehearsal dinner. I froze. “He recognizes me,” I whispered.

“He can’t see your face,” God hissed.

“Do you got any more of dem pigs in blankets?” the guy asked.

I stared blankly at him.

“Ya know. The little hot dog things?”

God yanked on my hair and then shoved my head upward, in effect causing me to nod at the thug. “Now walk away toward the kitchen,” God ordered. “He’ll think you’re going to get him his food.”

My legs were weak, but I managed to stumble away into the kitchen. Spotting a tray with a bottle of champagne and two flutes, I picked it up and dove back into the party.

“This is it, Maggie,” God said in my ear. “It’s your last chance to do this. It’s now or never. I’ll meet you back at the car.”

He leapt from my neck to a potted plant.

“Leapin’ lizards,” I muttered, lifting the pendant from around my neck and heading off to get my revenge against Jose Garcia.

A little girl’s giggles caught my attention before I could spike a glass of champagne with the deadly poison and serve it to my target. I searched for the source of the laughter and spotted Christina, the little girl I’d met in the hallway at the rehearsal dinner. Then I saw who was making her laugh. He was pudgier and had less hair than the last time I’d spoken to him, but Jose Garcia’s smile as he played with his granddaughter was familiar.

An invisible vise tightened around my chest making it difficult to breathe. A flush of white-hot anger heated my skin. Katie would never again be picked up by Theresa and spun around. I didn’t know if my niece would ever even smile or laugh again.

Standing in a darkened corner, watching him twirl the laughing little girl around, I was swamped with an unexpected memory.

Theresa, Darlene, Marlene, and I were in the front yard of the B&B waiting for the ice cream truck to drive by. Aunt Susan never let us get any because she said it would ruin our dinners, but we still raced outside every time we heard the tinkling chimes.

Aunt Susan wasn’t home that day. She’d had to run out to do something with our mother and had left Uncle Jose in charge of our care. Afterward, we girls all agreed it was one of the best afternoons of our lives.

Uncle Jose flagged down the ice cream truck and bought us all our favorite sweet treats. Then once we were done eating them, and running around like maniacs from our temporary sugar high, he’d picked each of us up in turn, twirling us around. So fast that we thought we could touch the sky. So fast that we got deliciously dizzy and collapsed on the grass in giggles.

Just like he was doing with Christina.

I shivered as my anger left me. I looked at the little giggling girl and knew I couldn’t make her last memory of her grandfather be watching him die. Slowly, I put the necklace back on.

There was no way I could kill Jose Garcia.

And yet I couldn’t lose Katie.

Then I remembered the gun Patrick had left me, I’d stowed in underneath the seat of my car. I might not be able to kill Garcia here at the party, but I might be able to do it afterward. If I shot him, I reasoned, I should be able to collect at least part of the money for the contract.

Dimly aware of the DJ asking everyone to come out to the dance floor, I turned to go to the car, hoping God would meet me there, but I got swept up in the sea of people rushing toward the center of the room.

And that’s when I saw it.

The biggest, glitziest, tackiest mirrored disco ball I’d ever seen. The humongous thing had to have a diameter of at least five feet.

Just like Armani had predicted. But what did it mean?

I was so focused on the disco ball that I careened into the blue-suited back of a wedding guest with the tray.

“Sorry,” I muttered, turning around to make my escape.

Fingers snaked around my biceps, not tight enough to cause pain, but enough to cause alarm to turn my legs to jelly.

“Maggie?”

I knew that voice. Holding me in place, he stepped around me.

Zeke! Concern dampened the usual sparkle in his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” we said simultaneously.

Tightening his grip on my arm, Zeke practically dragged me to the outskirts of the room. My mind raced. What was he doing here? What had he been doing at the rehearsal when he’d saved me from the goons in the coatroom? He’d never said why he was back in town, except to say it was for business. Was his business with Garcia? Was he no better than the man responsible for Theresa’s death and Katie’s condition?

My stomach soured at the thought. Yanking my arm free of his grasp, I glared up at his blue eyes, which were narrowed at me suspiciously.

“What’s with the mask?”

“All the staff are wearing them.”

“Right, except you’re not staff.”

I showed him the tray I carried as though it was the only proof I needed.

“I keep telling you that you’re a lousy liar.”

There was no way I’d let him get away with acting like I was the only one with a hidden agenda. “Apparently you’re not. I believed you when you told Alice you were tired, but here you are, partying the night away.”

His lips, those lips that could work such magic against mine, flattened into a straight line. “I’m working.”

“Working? Like you were ‘working’ at The Big Day when you
just happened
to run into us shopping for Alice’s dress?”

“Stop it, Maggie.”

“And were you
working
when you were at the rehearsal restaurant the other night?”

“I can’t explain. I wish I could, but I just can’t.”

My heart fell. He
was
in business with Garcia. I didn’t need an explanation. I’d figured it out. It had taken me a while, but I’d finally worked it out. Zeke was no better than my drug-dealing target.

“You’ve got to get out of here.” Zeke turned his attention back to the dance floor.

Garcia was preparing to toast the bride and groom. He held out a hand, demanding champagne. It would have been the perfect opportunity to poison him.

“He killed Theresa,” I blurted out.

Zeke turned back to me. “What?”

“His drugs killed my sister. The driver who hit us was an addict. He got her hooked on drugs, so he’s responsible.”

Something that looked like a lot like pity shimmered in Zeke’s gaze.

“You’re no better than him,” I spat. “You’re just like your dad, a drug-dealing monster.”

Rearing back, he blinked, as though I’d slapped him.

A deafening snap, like a loud boom of thunder, ripped through the room. Instinctively I looked in the direction of the sound, just in time to see the disco ball fall from the ceiling. There was a crash and screams and bedlam.

Before I could figure out what had happened, Zeke grabbed my hand and started dragging me away.

“We have to get out of here!” he shouted above the din.

Dropping the champagne-laden tray, I allowed him to lead me from the chaos. We raced out of the building to the parking lot.

“Where’s your car?” he asked.

“Not here,” I panted.

“What the hell were you doing here, Maggie?”

“What were you?”

Instead of answering me, he pulled his keys from his pocket and remotely unlocked his car, which was parked at the far end of the lot. “Run!”

Worried that Garcia’s goons would chase us, I did as he said.

We tumbled into the car and he peeled out of the lot.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Z
EKE POUNDED ON
the steering wheel as he sped away. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”

“Where are you taking me?” My voice wobbled, suddenly afraid of him.

Glancing over at me, he noticed I was cowering against my door. He slowed down, took a deep breath, and ran a hand through his hair. “I am
nothing
like my father or Jose Garcia.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Home. So you don’t have to open that door and throw yourself out of the moving car.”

I relaxed a little. We rode in silence for a few minutes.

“So what was your plan?” he asked quietly. “To get up in front of everyone and tell all his family and friends what a degenerate scumbag Garcia is?”

“Something like that.” I fingered the necklace.

“It would have been useless. They already know, and he’s not the kind of guy you can afford to piss off.”

Something wasn’t tracking. He spoke of Garcia with such disdain.

“Why were you there?” I asked.

A muscle in his jaw jumped and his fingers flexed on the steering wheel. He didn’t answer me. Instead, he pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex and escorted me to my front door.

I unlocked my front door and looked up at him.

He scowled. “Promise me you’ll give up on this idea of getting your revenge on Garcia.”

“Okay.”

“You are the
worst
liar.”

Before I could protest, he kissed me, so tenderly, I forgot how to think. Shoving my door open, he maneuvered us inside my apartment.

“God?” DeeDee panted curiously.

“God!” I groaned, tearing my lips from Zeke’s. I’d forgotten the little guy and left him behind! “He’s okay,” I assured the dog.

“Hear that, DeeDee?” Zeke petted the dog’s head. “She thinks I’m okay.”

I couldn’t correct him without sounding crazy, so I shut my mouth and the door, trying to gather my thoughts. I couldn’t remember ever being more confused.

“Can I trust you, Maggie?”

I shrugged, keeping my back to him.

“Look at me, Maggie.”

I turned slowly toward him.

“I’m not real.”

“You look real.”

“I’m all flash, no substance. I talk fast and think faster. You deserve better.”

The pain behind his words stabbed at my heart. It wasn’t Zeke the man saying these things, but the boy who’d been rejected by his own family.

Wanting to alleviate his suffering, I reached up and pulled his head down to mine. Our lips touched. “You feel real,” I murmured against his mouth.

He jerked his mouth from mine, but pulled my body tight against his, squeezing me tightly as though I were an anchor he had to hold on to. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I silently signaled I was there for him.

“Loyal, loving, Maggie,” he muttered into my hair. “I never deserved your friendship and I don’t deserve you now.”

“Zeke—”

“I’m a con man, Maggie,” he confessed on a rushed breath. “That’s what I am. I’m a scam artist.”

I stepped away so that I could look at his face. It was twisted in a mask of shame and regret.

“I came back to town to run a con designed to take down Garcia’s operation. I was at the dress shop because I’d heard his daughter was going there to pick up her gown.”

He stared at me, daring me to believe him.

And I did, maybe because it was no crazier than me being a hitwoman.

“So I’m part of your con?”

He shook his head vehemently. “You weren’t part of the plan, but then I saw you and Alice and something came over me, something stupid, and I wanted to reconnect. I wanted to be with people who knew my real name, knew where I came from, knew the real me.” He turned away. “But I don’t even know who the real me is anymore.”

I knew that feeling too.

“But the way you look at me . . . it’s been a major distraction. I never expected to be this attracted . . .” Agitated, he speared his fingers through his hair.

“Should I apologize?”

He whirled back around to face me, blue eyes flashing wildly. “How are you not freaking out?”

I shrugged. As much as I appreciated his confession, I wasn’t about to reveal that while he conned people, I killed them. “No one’s perfect. We all do things we’re not proud of.”

Reaching out, he cupped my cheek. “You have no idea how much I’d like to stay in town and find out where we could take this, but my employer won’t let me.”

“You have an employer?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You say that a lot.”

“Life is complicated.”

“God where?” DeeDee asked worriedly.

“So you’re going to leave?” I asked Zeke.

“I have to.”

“And I’ll never see you again?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“So why tell me all this?”

“Because I wanted you to know . . . I needed you to know that this is about me and not you. You have no idea what an amazing woman you are. I didn’t want you to think my leaving had anything to do with you.”

“But you won’t stay for me,” I said slowly, not even sure I’d want him to, if he did.

“I can’t. I have work to do. Debts to repay . . .” He trailed off. Kissing me hard on the mouth, he turned around and left, leaving me standing there like a stunned statue.

“Now God?” DeeDee asked insistently.

It took me a second to focus on her. “Let me change into sneakers and then we can go get him.”

It would be a long walk all the way across town to get back to our rendezvous point, but I couldn’t let him spend the night out there alone.

Three sharp knocks on the door startled us both.

I peered through the peephole and then yanked open the door.

“Back already?”

Zeke smiled sheepishly. “There was something I forgot to tell you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and did my best to pretend I was unhappy with him.

“You should learn to accept people’s help, Maggie. It’ll make it easier on you and them. Trying to be your friend, helping you, is hard. You’ve got all those walls up.”

“Is this your professional con man’s opinion?” I asked sarcastically.

“Armani’s trying to save your job, your aunts are trying to save your niece, and you don’t cut any of them any slack,” he said quickly, as though he thought I might slam the door in his face. “I’m pretty sure you may have saved me, Maggie. Thank you for reminding me who I can be.”

He lifted his hand in a slight wave, ran to his car, and drove out of my life.

“Now?” DeeDee asked impatiently.

“Maybe I should ask for some help,” I murmured.