Maggie Lee (Book 7): The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops (13 page)

“Bad, bad Leroy Braun,” God sang softly.

Loretta and Templeton stared at my chest again.

“It’s the lizard,” I explained off-handedly. “Have you figured out what dingbat means?”

Loretta shook her head. “I’m not sure your friend is that great a psychic.”

“Me either.” But I knew from experience that Armani’s predictions usually turn out to be right, even if it’s in the most bizarre ways. “When’s the last time you remember seeing this note from Braun giving you the title to The Corset?”

“Not to The Corset, dear,” Loretta corrected. “To the building.”

I bit my tongue as I waited for her to get around to answering my question.

“Answer the girl, ‘Retta,” Templeton wheezed. Deathly pale and breathing heavier than the prank callers who sometimes bothered me at Insuring the Future, he really didn’t look or sound good.

“When Mama died.” Loretta used the corner of Templeton’s bed sheet to dab away a couple of tears from her eyes. “Bless her.”

Personally I wasn’t all that sure that her mother, my grandmother was worth blessing, but I bit my tongue again and kept the thought to myself. “But that was…” I mentally calculated how long it had been since my grandmother, the one who’d delighted in calling me
extraordinarily ordinary
, had died. “Ten years ago.”

Loretta stared at me blankly.

The shadows of a suspicion formed in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t quite grasp what my subconscious was trying to tell me. “Where was it?”

“Why in my jewelry drawer of course.”

“Of course,” God mocked. “Where else would one keep important papers?”

Not caring that Loretta and Templeton were eyeing me strangely, I pulled out the collar, looked down my shirt, and said, “Shut up.”

He stuck his tongue out at me, but mercifully fell silent.

“Of course we’ve looked in the jewelry drawer,” Loretta continued. “And everywhere else we could think of in the B&B. Poor Templeton told me he even ventured into the attic.” She shuddered with revulsion.

Since I’d encountered Templeton in the attic not long before the wedding of my friend Alice, and had thought he was acting suspiciously, I could confirm he’d searched up there.

“You’ll find it, won’t you?” Loretta’s voice was filled with unshed tears.

“I’ll do my best.”

“There isn’t time,” Templeton gasped.

I stared at him, trying to determine whether he was paler now than when I’d walked into the room. “When’s the last time the nurse checked on you?”

He waved me off. “Just a bump on the head.”

“And the bump on the head is making it hard for you to breathe?” I didn’t always like Templeton, but he had saved my hide a couple of times and I found myself worried.

“The doctor in the emergency room said he’s fine,” Loretta said hesitantly.

“Get a second opinion,” I urged. “In the meantime, I’m going to leave so you can get some rest. Feel better, Templeton.”

He reached a hand out, beckoning for me to come closer.

I did and he grabbed my hand. “Thank you, Maggie.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Instinctively I bent and pressed a quick cheek to his pale cheek.

I don’t which of us was more caught off guard by my surprise show of affection, but he offered me a grateful smile.

I rushed out into the hospital hallway, trying to decipher where that had driven me to demonstrate my fondness for him.

Before I could figure it out, a voice asked, “Chocolate pudding?”

Whirling around, I found Delveccio leaning against the wall, watching me. As usual, his shirt was unbuttoned halfway to his naval, flashing a disturbing amount of pudgy flesh. The skin was so distracting that I almost missed the dark stains on the fabric. Almost. But I’m a semi-pro assassin and details are important to people like me (at least that’s what Patrick has tried to drill into my head).

“Is that blood?” I tried to sound nonchalant as I pointed at his shirt.

He glanced down. “Could be.”

“Are you hurt?”

He narrowed his gaze. “Why would you ask that?”

I shrugged. “Because we’re in a hospital and there’s blood on your shirt?”

“Not mine.”

Since he’s a reputed mobster who pays my assassination fees, I thought it best to not ask whose blood it might be. Instead I asked, “Where’s the gorilla?”

The corners of Delveccio’s mouth twitched with amusement at the mention of his bodyguard. “Vinny’s watching over my grandson...”

“I heard he’s doing better.”

Seeing the crime boss’s expression darken suspiciously, I added hurriedly, “At least according to Katie.”

He relaxed a bit. “Smart kid that girl.”

I nodded.

“Yeah. Dominic’s doing better.”

“That’s wonderful.”

He nodded. I was pretty sure some moisture shimmering in his eyes before he gruffly cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting my aunt’s fiancé.”

“I admire your loyalty to family.”

“Thanks.”

“You know where Archie is?” he asked too casually.

I tensed, not knowing if he wanted my father to testify against the Lubovsky family or if he’d prefer for Archie Lee to disappear off the planet. “Afraid not.”

“Relax.” Delveccio twirled his oversized diamond pinky ring. “It’s no skin off my back if he’s in the wind. I was just asking since I might have another job for you, but if you’ve got cops crawling all over you looking for your old man, it’s not a good time.”

Exhaling shakily, I quickly agreed. “It’s not a good time.”

“Too bad. You would have liked this one.”

“Why? I asked curiously.

“Let’s just say you would have found it personally satisfying.” Delveccio smiled at me kindly. “It’s best if we leave it there.”

I nodded. “Why are you here?”

“Antoinette.”

Antoninette is his daughter. I haven’t seen her much, which is weird considering her son and my niece are roomies.

“Is she okay?”

“First, she goes and marries that scum Alfonse.”

I nodded sympathetically. Alfonse had been the one who put Delveccio’s grandson in a coma. He’d also been the first person the mobster had hired me to kill.

“And now she’s fallen for an idiot cop.”

I flinched.

Delveccio nodded his approval, thinking my expression was due to a shared dislike of law enforcement. In reality I’d just been dismayed to find myself connected, however tenuously, to another cop.

“He’s the job?” I asked.

Delveccio raised an eyebrow. “Why would you think that?’

I shrugged, deciding it wasn’t the time to remind him that he’d specifically requested I kill Paul Kowalski, a cop I’d once dated, who’d then tried to kill me. I changed the subject. “Is it Antoinette’s blood on your shirt?”

“It’s the dopey cop’s.”

“You’ve got a cop’s blood on you?” I squeaked nervously, peering furtively up and down the hallway to see if anyone had spotted me talking to the bloody mobster.

“Relax,” Delveccio chuckled. “The idiot was helping Antoinette put together lawn furniture and managed to slice his hand open. She gets queasy at the sight of blood, so I did the right thing and drove him to the E.R.” He winked at me slyly. “Never let it be said that I’m not a fine, upstanding citizen, right?”

I nodded weakly.

“I’m glad everyone’s okay. I’ve got to go.”

“Ciao, bella.”

“I could use some chow,” the lizard grumbled.

Delveccio took one look at my squeaking chest and burst into laughter that bounced off the walls. “You are one weird chick.” Shaking his head, he disappeared into one of the rooms.

I scurried away, muttering at the lizard holed up in my bosom, “Tell me again why I agreed to bring you? Oh yeah, it was because you promised to keep your mouth shut when I’m talking to others.”

“But—” he protested.

“Save it.” I blew through the hospital exit, heading for my car. “I’ve got enough to worry about. I don’t need you to complicate things for me.”

“Hmmmphhh.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

“You complicate life plenty on your own,” the little guy said haughtily.

“No I don’t.”

“Oh no? Then why are you helping Loretta with The Corset, Marlene with her pimp, Whitehat with this Joy woman?”

“Because Whitehat will send me to prison.” I unlocked my car.

“And the others?”

“They're family,” I muttered climbing behind the steering wheel. I pounded on it for emphasis. “You’ve got to help out family when they need it.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” a voice said from the backseat.

“Aaaaaaahhhhhh!” the lizard and I screamed simultaneously.

Chapter Sixteen

I guess that if you’re going to have a heart attack when someone pops up in your backseat, a hospital is probably a good place to do it.

That was the only silver lining I could think of when I saw my father’s face reflected in my rear view mirror.

“Get out!” I yelled, fueled by a mixture of fear and anger that made my heart pound. “Out! Out! Out!”

He didn’t budge. “Sorry I scared you, Maggie May.”

I twisted in my seat so that I could glare at him head on. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.” He offered me a conciliatory smile, looking more like a benevolent store Santa with his white hair and chubby cheeks than a lifetime criminal.

“More like you want something from me,” I countered, willing myself to stay angry with him.

He blinked, looking hurt.

“Do you have any idea of how many people are looking for you?” I asked.

“Lots?”

“Yes.” I spun around so that I was staring out of my dirty windshield. “And half of them are camped out on
my
doorstep.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“If you were, you’d turn yourself back in.”

“But I needed to see your mother before I testify.”

I grit my teeth, hating the lovelorn tone of his voice. I suspected his obsession with his wife might lead to his ultimate downfall. “Why? Never mind. Don’t answer that. You do realize that the marshals and cops aren’t the only ones looking for you, don’t you? I’m surprised the Lubovsky family hasn’t broken down the B&B’s doors.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a tiny bit overdramatic?”

I frowned at his reflection. “I have other problems that are more pressing than your desire to see Mom.”

“Like what?”

“Like contending with Marlene’s terrorizing psycho pimp. And Loretta’s going to lose The Corset. And someone injured Templeton. Not to mention I’ve got—” I clamped my mouth shut, realizing I’d almost revealed my relationship with Ms. Whitehat.

“Loretta’s losing The Corset?”

“She lost the title.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Apparently it disappeared around the time her mother died.”

“Your grandmother,” Dad chided gently. “Not that I was ever fond of the crazy old bat, but you should show her some respect.”

“Calling her a
crazy old bat
is respectful?”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, I need you to help me see your mother.”

I’d just told him that his other living daughter was being terrorized by a pimp, and he was focused on visiting the woman in the loony bin.  That’s my dad in a nutshell.

My fear and anger seeped out of me, leaving me exhausted. I slumped in my seat. “I can’t.”

“Oh course you can.”

“No, Dad, I can’t. Not even if I wanted to. The marshals and probably the Lubovsky clan knows that there’s a good chance you’ll try to see her.”

“That’s why I need you to bring her to me. Check her out for the day.”

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, trying to remain calm. It didn’t work, so I counted to ten again. Finally, when I could speak without screaming, I said, “You don’t think it would look suspicious if I waltzed in there and checked her out for the day like she’s a freaking library book?”

He sat back in his seat, looking like the Grinch had stolen his Christmas.

“Please, Maggie… It’s important.”

I squared my shoulders. “No.”

“But—”

“Absolutely not,” I reiterated forcefully. “I can’t help you, Dad. I’ve got too much on the line.”

I let him think that I meant custody of Katie, when in fact I was more worried about Whitehat and Delveccio at the moment.

“I understand.”

“I could drive you to the B&B. I’m sure there’s someone there that can return you to Protective Custody.”

“Not yet. I have some things I need to do first.”

He leaned over the seat and awkwardly pressed his lips to my ear in the semblance of a kiss. “You’re a good girl. Katie’s lucky to have you.”

Tears prickled my eyes and my throat closed as he climbed slowly out of the car.  “See ya around, Maggie May.” He gave a brief wave and lumbered away.

Dashing away tears with the back of my hand, I took a deep breath and started the car. Then I remembered something. I rolled down the window and yelled after him, “Hey, Dad?”

He turned back. “Yeah?”

“Does dingbat mean anything to you?”

“Like:
Your old man is a dingbat for asking you to help?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I shook my head. “Never mind. Thanks anyway.”

I put the car into gear and eased my foot onto the gas pedal.

“Well that—” God began.

“Maggie?” Dad shouted.

I hit the brakes.

Gut jiggling, he strode toward the car. “I thought of something.”

I braced myself for another of his hare-brained schemes.

“It’s probably nothing,” he said slowly.

I reminded myself to remain calm.

“Your grandmother, when she didn’t know the name of something, she’d call it a doohickey or a thingamabob.”

“Sure. Aunt Loretta’s favorite word is
gizmo.
”

“But your grandmother was also known to call things
dingbats
.”

“People,” I corrected automatically. “People are dingbats.”

“Amen,” God muttered from my chest.

“No,” Dad insisted. “She called things dingbats too.”

Something in his voice made me squint at him suspiciously.  “Are you thinking of a specific dingbat?”