The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness

BOOK: The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness
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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

 

 

 

The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness

Book 5

 

 

 

JB LYNN

 

 

 

 

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 © 2013 by Jennifer Baum

 

Cover by Hot Damn Designs

 

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

https://twitter.com/jb_lynn_author

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Praise for JB Lynn’s Novels

 

"If you love series such as Evanovich's Plum and Bond's Body Movers, you'll love Confessions of A Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman."

-A Chick Who Reads

 

“…
laugh out loud hilarious and totally engaging novel.”

-Night Owl Reviews

 

“JB Lynn knows how to entertain readers. I can’t wait to see what she has in store for Maggie next!”

-Romance Novel News

 

“Ms. Lynn writes stories that flow well, make you care about her characters, and make you want to read more. It’s a winning combination for a book.”

-Long and Short Reviews

 

“…Lynn similarly and masterfully joins the genres of suspense and romance with a tale that is sure to please fans of both. Readers will be anxiously awaiting the next book in this series.”

-LIBRARY JOURNAL

 

 

 

 

OTHER TITLES BY JB LYNN

 

Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

The Hitwoman Gets Lucky

The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels

 

The First Victim

 

 

 

 

HUGE THANKS TO:

 

My incredible team: Parisa, Marcie, Amy, and Kim for the work they do.

My incredible husband: for the support he offers.

My incredible readers: That’s YOU! Your love and support mean everything to me.

 

 

 

 

 

THE HITWOMAN AND THE NEUROTIC WITNESS

Chapter One

 

You know it’s going to be a bad day when you’ve got Piss on your chest, Doomsday staring you in the eye, and God singing, “Staying Alive” out of tune.

My name is Maggie Lee. Through a bizarre series of events (including a head injury that left me with the ability to talk to animals) I’ve become a hitwoman.

I wasn’t sure if either of those things was the reason my apartment had just been blown to smithereens. But there I was, sprawled out in the parking lot, every cell in my body aching, with a dog panting in my face, a one-eyed cat kneading my chest, and a snarky anole lizard singing off-key “
Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin alive, stayin alive.”

“Doing what?” asked Doomsday (my grammatically-challenged Doberman, who prefers to be called DeeDee because it’s more feminine).

Thankfully the reptile stopped singing long enough to haughtily inform the dog, “
Cardiopulmonary resuscitation.”

The dog cocked her head to the side. “What?”

“CPR, you ignoramus,” the lizard shouted. “We’re trying to save her life.”

“Song?” DeeDee asked.

“The American Heart Association says it’s the perfect beat to use,” God replied, before singing again. “

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin alive, stayin alive.”

If Piss, the one-eyed cat, wasn’t pushing on my chest with her untrimmed claws, I might have been able to tell them that I was alive, but they were killing me.

Thankfully someone shooed her off of me.

My favorite mobster came into focus. Leaning over me, his diamond pinky ring sparkled like the North Star. I blinked. Either I was seeing double, or the strangely-named identical twins Tony and Anthony Delveccio were at my apartment complex.

That couldn’t be good.

Were they the ones who’d blown up my apartment? Were they here to finish the job?

"Can you sit up?" The twin wearing an avocado green silk shirt unbuttoned to his belly button asked.

Since the other one was wearing a tomato red shirt, I decided that avocado was Anthony and tomato was Tony.

"Are you okay?" Tomato, a.k.a.Tony asked.

"Imbeciles. Does she look okay?" God thundered indignantly.

Well, to me it sounded like he thundered...to people who can't talk to animals it sounded like a high-pitched squeak.

"What the hell is that?" Anthony looked around trying to locate the source of the squeaking.

"It's the lizard she's always sneaking into the hospital that she thinks no one notices," Tony replied. "It's the kid's pet."

"He's kind of cute," Anthony said, reaching for my reptilian friend.

"Save me! Save me!" God screeched scampering away to hide behind Piss who was watching the mobsters suspiciously through her one good eye.

"Touch don't."

DeeDee's growled warning made both men freeze. Anthony snaked his hand around to the back of his belt.

Afraid he was going to shoot my dog, I struggled into a sitting position. "Lie down," I ordered the dog.

For once she did as I asked.

"You okay?" Tony crouched down to look me in the eye. I could have sworn I saw actual concern in his gaze.

I nodded. "What happened?"

"You're lucky you got out," Anthony said.

"We smelled gas."

"We?" Anthony eyed the burning building. "You had someone in there with you?"

"Just my pets."

"Just?" God sniffed haughtily.

Piss turned her one-eyed gaze on him, effectively shutting him up.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“We were checking in on a local business venture we have a stake in,” Anthony said a tad too smoothly.

I guessed that the strip club right around the corner was probably their “business venture.”

“We saw the flames and thought we’d do the Good Samaritan thing,” Anthony continued.

I had no idea what “Good Samaritan” means in a mobster’s vernacular, but I doubted anything good came out of it.

“Plus,” Tony confided, patting my shoulder, “we know you live here.”

“Thanks.” I offered the man in the red shirt a weak smile. I knew he’d meant the words kindly, but the idea that two deadly mobsters know where I live was not particularly reassuring.

“You did us a solid taking down Kowalski and causing a headache for the Dubrovsky family,” Anthony said gruffly.

I nodded. I didn’t say that I’d almost died a couple times while just trying to keep my family safe. Let them think I’d done them a favor. Maybe they’d think twice about knocking me off now.

“But you’re going to be taking some heat now,” Tony said. “People will be watching you. Cops. Feds. Other organizations.”

I nodded knowing that he wasn’t talking about Kiwanis or Masons. He meant other crime organizations.

“So we gotta distance ourselves from you until things cool down,” Tony said.

The idea seemed to sadden him, so I did my best to not reveal that the prospect left me overjoyed. “I understand.”

“It’s business,” Anthony muttered.

“I get that,” I assured them.

Both men stiffened as sirens wailed in the distance.

"Fire trucks," I reassured them.

"Cops won't be far behind," Anthony muttered, turning away. "We gotta go." He hustled away toward a black sedan.

"You sure you're okay?" Tony asked.

I nodded.

"You take care of yourself." He hurried toward the car as the sirens grew closer.

I looked at my apartment building engulfed in flames. A quick scan of the area seemed to indicate that all my neighbors had made it out of the respective units. Some were crying. Some were in shock. Some looked pissed off.

I looked at the smoldering hole where my apartment had been. I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. That place had been my home. It had been my place to escape from The Witches. Now it was gone.

Sensing my distress, the animals gathered around me.

“Sad no,” Dee said, resting her heavy head on my shoulder. I tilted my head, leaning it against hers.

“It’ll be okay, Sugar,” Piss chimed in, nuzzling against my arm. I pet her distractedly.

“You are
so
screwed.” God opined.

I shot him a dirty look.

He shrugged. “Can’t argue with the truth.”

The fire trucks pulled into the parking lot, sirens blaring. The Delveccios were right, the police were close behind.

While the firefighters fought the blaze, the cops corralled the residents like we were horses that had escaped from a burning barn. There was a lot of yelling and arm waving, but not much communication.

“Grass Susan?” DeeDee suggested, clearly agitated by the chaos.

“What does that mean, moron?” God asked.

“It means she wants to go to where Susan and grass are. Don’t be so heartless,” Piss hissed.

As plans went, the dog’s idea was a good one, except for one small detail. “Sorry, girl. The keys for the car are in the apartment.”

She hung her head, disappointed.

“We’ll figure something out,” I assured her.

“While you’re so worried about the drooling beast,” God groused, “have you given any thought to what’s going to happen to me? You smashed my terrarium when you tripped.” He waved at the shards of glass scattered on the ground.

“She didn’t trip,” Piss said, narrowing her one good eye at him. “The explosion knocked her off her feet. You’re lucky she bothered to get you out. She could have left you to roast.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” God drew himself up to his full height attempting to look down his nose at her.

It didn’t work since he’s only a couple of inches tall at best.

“An ungrateful, cold-blooded fool.”

“Fight no,” DeeDee whined pitifully.

“She’s right,” I muttered. “The last thing we need is the two of you bickering like an old married couple.”

“I do not bicker,” God informed us haughtily.

“He actually believes that,” Piss drawled in a tone that indicated she thought the lizard was the dumbest creature she’d ever encountered. “Bless his heart.”

A uniformed police officer approached us. “You gotta have your dog on a leash.”

“Her leash is in the apartment.” I pointed at my smoking former residence.

“It’s the law. Dog’s gotta be leashed.”

“He’s dumber than she is,” the cat muttered.

“Be nice,” I warned.

“What?” the cop asked.

“I told my dog to be nice,” I said, straight-faced.

“Nice DeeDee,” the dog whined.

“You don’t leash it, I gotta call Animal Control,” the cop said.

“Not Animal Control!” Piss gasped.

“That what?” DeeDee asked on a scared whine.

“They trap you and take you away and no one ever sees you again,” Piss whispered, frightened.

“Away take?” DeeDee asked looking up at me worriedly.

“No one’s taking you anywhere.” I pat her head reassuringly.

“You’re not leaving me any choice,” the cop said, reaching for his radio.

In the previous couple of days I’d had an ex-boyfriend try to rape and murder me, faced down a professional hitman with nothing more than a stuffed dinosaur toy, and barely escaped being blown to bits in my apartment. I was in no mood for the officer’s petty antics.

I struggled to stand, ignoring pain and dizziness, to face this mini-crisis.

“Listen closely,” I ordered raising my voice. “I just lost my home. I told you her leash was inside. Unless you think I can pull one out of my butt, why don’t you just go do your job and leave me the hell alone?”

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