Maggie Lee (Book 11): The Hitwoman Hires a Manny

BOOK: Maggie Lee (Book 11): The Hitwoman Hires a Manny
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

       

      Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Baum

       

      Cover by Hot Damn Designs

      Interior design and formatting by Alpha Queens Book Obsession

       

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you’d like to share this book (and the author hopes you’ll want to), please purchase an additional copy for each person. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]

       

      Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

       

      
www.jblynn.com

 

Chapter One

 

 

You know it's going to be a bad day when you get smacked in the face with a thong.

 

I hadn't even worked an hour at my Aunt Loretta's lingerie shop, The Corset, when someone decided a pink, lacy thong would make the ideal slingshot. I tried to remind myself that the customer is always right as the sound of annoying tittering laughter reached me. I took a deep breath and bent to pick up the launched underwear. I exhaled slowly, as I stood back up, pasting a smile on my face for the benefit of the bridal party that had taken over the store.

 

"I take it someone wants these?"

 

The maid of honor, Tiffany, shook her head. "I think she should get something more risqué."

 

I glanced down at the scrap of pink lace hanging from my fingers. "We have the same thing in black."

 

"I was thinking more like edible."

 

Tiffany and her three cohorts giggled like teenagers, despite the fact they hadn't been for at least three decades.

 

I could feel the edges of my fake smile fraying, and I searched the store, hoping Aunt Loretta would take over. This was her store. These were her tribe. For a part-time job, I've been known to kill people, not consult on their unmentionables.

 

Normally Loretta would have descended on these shoppers quicker than flies land on roadkill, but, having claimed that an unpleasant man had accosted her in the parking lot, she’d gone in the back to collect herself.

 

Like a sinful fairy godmother, Loretta, in a push-up bra, stilettos, and fake eyelashes, appeared between the racks. "If you're looking for edible," she trilled happily, "you have to try these."

 

I turned away before I could find out what "these" were. I was pretty sure I didn't want to know.

 

"Would you like to taste a sample?" Loretta offered, as the horny foursome hurried in her direction.

 

While they were distracted, I ducked down behind the counter. It was a childish move, but after 45 minutes of my first shift at this job, I was ready to quit.

 

I could hear chuckling coming from my chest, but I wasn’t laughing. Plucking at my collar, I pulled the fabric away from my skin so that I could look down my shirt. I glared at the anole lizard cradled between my breasts.

 

“Stop, please,” I hissed.

 

Godzilla, or God for short, instead said, “You really are not cut out for this job.”

 

“That’s what I told everyone,” I whispered. But no one had listened. Loretta was short-handed and I’d quit my job at Insuring the Future and had extra time, so everyone decided that I should help out at her shop.

 

I let go of my shirt, plunging God into darkness, as the shop’s telephone began to ring. I made a mad dive for it, almost spilling the bowl of dark chocolate and salted caramel-flavored condoms strategically placed in front of the cash register. I knew if I didn't get the phone, Loretta would leave the customers.

 

Snatching it up, I answered. "Thank you for calling The Corset. Love, sex, romance, and a little bit of naughtiness, in one garment."

 

All I heard on the other end of the call was wheezing. I didn't know if that was someone's version of heavy breathing, or if they just had a deviated septum. I grit my teeth. "Can I help you?"

 

The caller exploded into gales of laughter. The wheezing, must've been the man attempting to control himself. I closed my eyes, curling my free hand into a fist. If I had thought dealing with customers at my job at Insuring the Future was infuriating, interacting with the public at The Corset, was a whole other level of hell. If it was up to me, I'd hang up on the giggling jerk, but I didn't think Aunt Loretta would approve. So I just waited to see if he would say anything.

 

"I'm sorry, Maggie," the man said finally.

 

His voice was familiar but I couldn't place it. "Who is this?"

 

"Jack."

 

"Jack Stern?" My heartbeat sped up a little. It had been a while since I've spoken with the crime reporter. He'd disappeared after following me on my rescue mission to save my friend Armani from kidnappers.

 

"At your service," he chuckled.

 

I wanted to ask him where he'd been, why it seemed he'd fallen off the face of the planet, but I didn't think it wise considering I was pretty sure that Ms. Whitehat had been responsible for his whereabouts. I didn't trust the woman who blackmailed me into doing jobs for her, despite the fact she had sent people to rescue me on more than one occasion.

 

"Was there something you wanted?" I glanced back at Loretta, who was showing the bridal party something made of rubber. I didn't really want to know what it was, so I turned my back on them and concentrated on the conversation. "The Corset has a wide variety of sexual aids," I told Jack. "If there's something you need help with…"

 

"You really should work on your bedside manner," he teased. "Your love, sex, romance bit wasn't terribly convincing."

 

"Seriously, Jack, why are you calling?"

 

"I'd like to see you." All trace of levity had left his voice.

 

I got the distinct impression he was now in work mode.

 

"Why?" A knot of worry tightened in my gut. He knew Patrick. Did he suspect that my murder mentor/boyfriend had been responsible for a certain deadly car accident?

 

"It's about your family."

 

That didn't ease my anxiety. My family had a knack for getting into trouble. Trouble I didn't need a reporter publicizing. I bit my lower lip, unsure of how to answer Jack.

 

"It's important, Maggie," he said after my hesitation stretched too long.

 

I sighed, resigned to the idea that even though I didn't want to have whatever this conversation was going to be, I had no choice. "When?"

 

"Are you going to the hospital today?"

 

"Yes. I'll be there around..." I turned to see how the bridal shower group was doing. Aunt Loretta was piling plastic wrapped doodads into the shopping baskets the women held. That had to mean they were almost done. I looked at the clock and saw it was 3:30. Loretta had said I could leave at four provided the shop wasn't busy then. "I'll be there around 4:30."

 

"And you visit with your niece for an hour?"

 

"Yes." It was kind of creepy how well he seemed to know my schedule.

 

"Okay, so how about we meet in the cafeteria between 5:30 and 6? I'll buy you dinner. Anything you want."

 

"Big spender."

 

"I'm going to expense it," he laughed. "See you then." He disconnected the call.

 

I spent the next half hour hurriedly finishing up my work while Loretta rang up the sales of the bridal party, throwing in some of those chocolate-flavored condoms as a “free gift”.

 

The silence after the four women had left was the best thing I’d heard in ages.

 

Just as the clock reached four, Templeton, Aunt Loretta’s fiancé strolled through the door.

 

“You are prompt,” Loretta trilled. “That’s why I like you.”

 

“I hope that’s not the only reason,” Templeton said, winking at me, and making a shooing motion to encourage my escape.

 

“Oh,” Loretta purred seductively. “There are many other things I like. Come here and I’ll show you.”

 

I beat a hasty retreat before she could show him what those things were and permanently traumatize me.

 

Little did I know that when I arrived at the hospital, I would be traumatized anyway.

 

My niece, Katie, wasn't in her room when I arrived. Neither was her roommate, Dominic, who'd only recently awakened from his coma. Since there was no one there, I settled into the visitor's chair, closed my eyes, and tried to nap for a few minutes. I didn't think I had dozed off, but when I opened my eyes I found I was no longer alone.

 

My stomach flip-flopped nervously, and I sat up straight, my heart pounding double-time at the man's unnerving stare. "I didn't hear you come in.”

 

“That's because you were snoring."

 

"Really?" I wasn't sure if I was more surprised or embarrassed by that revelation. Either way, I wasn't pleased that I had left myself vulnerable to this particular man.

 

I didn't like Vinny, Tony/Anthony Delveccio’s bodyguard. The steroid-fueled, muscle-bound, henchman of the mob boss who gave me my assassination jobs, made me nervous.

 

Not wanting him to think he had the advantage, I leaned back nonchalantly and asked, "Where's the kid?"

 

"Boss took them both for ice cream."

 

"Both?"

 

"Don't get your panties in a twist, they're just in the cafeteria."

 

I wanted to slap the smirk off Vinny's face, instead I asked, "How come you're not with them?"

 

His eyes narrowed as though I'd touched on a sensitive subject. "What business is it of yours?"

 

I shrugged and got to my feet. "I guess I'll go find them there."

 

He didn't reply, but he did step aside so that I could leave the room.

 

I practically ran to the cafeteria, not because I was worried about Katie’s safety while in the company of a mobster, but because the last thing I needed was for a nosy crime reporter to see said mobster babysitting my niece.

 

“What’s the rush?” God complained.

 

No doubt my pace jostled him in his resting place.

 

“Are you trying to bruise my delicate skin?”

 

Since there were people around, I didn’t answer him. I also did my best to ignore the way they stared at me as my chest continued to squeak.

 

While I hear God as a snooty Englishman, all the rest of the world hears is squeaking when he speaks.

BOOK: Maggie Lee (Book 11): The Hitwoman Hires a Manny
11.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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