The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness (3 page)

"Put me on the dashboard," God demanded.

I put Piss down on the seat and she jumped down to the floor of the car, curling into a ball beneath the heat vent. "Ahhh," she sighed happily. "It's like a spa."

Patrick handed me a styrofoam coffee cup. It was empty.

"For the lizard," he said gently.

"I'm not riding in a cup." God protested.

"It's clean," Patrick said. "And it'll keep him from getting jostled around."

"Skin delicate," DeeDee reminded the lizard from her spot in the backseat.

"Fine," God harumphed, running down my arm and climbing into the cup.

"We'll put it into the cup holder," Patrick said, taking the container from me.

His fingers brushed mine, igniting an electric charge between us. I could tell he felt it too by the way he went stock-still, staring into my eyes as though he could see my soul. My heartbeat doubled and my mouth went dry. I couldn't look away from him. Couldn't move.

"Not in front of the marshal," Piss said.

She was right. Tearing my gaze away, I stumbled into the car, leaving Patrick to carry God and walk around the car to the driver's seat. Shaken by my reaction, my hand trembled as I struggled with my seatbelt.

"Take your time, Mags." Patrick said softly. "You had quite a scare."

Finally the seatbelt buckle clicked into place.

"Ready?"

I shrugged. "Do I have a choice?"

"Grass," DeeDee reminded me from the backseat.

"It's the only place I have to go," I muttered.

"You're angry?" Patrick asked, sliding the car into gear.

"It was bad enough that I had to move back there because of Katie...but now..." I blew out a puff of air like a bull about to charge.

Patrick nodded his understanding, but wisely didn't say anything.

The lizard did not follow his lead by staying quiet.

"It's a noble thing to make that sacrifice in order to retain custody of her," God corrected from inside the coffee cup, which made his voice echo oddly. "You've gone above and beyond in terms of doing what's best for your niece. Not everyone would have become a contract killer in order to pay her hospital bills."

My eyes prickled with tears. That had sounded like he was proud of me.

"Well I'll be," Piss purred at me feet. "The know-it-all just paid you a genuine compliment. I didn't think he had it in him."

"Nincompoop," God thundered.

The roller coaster of emotions was too much for me. I tried to hold back a pained wail but it tore through my throat. I made a horrible choking noise and started blubbering. Once the tears started, I couldn't stop them. Great shuddering sobs wracked me as I sat in the passenger seat, holding onto the door handle for support.

Alarmed, Patrick pulled over to the side of the road. He pulled me into his arms. "It's okay, Mags," he murmured into my hair.

"It's not!" I bawled. "I'm moving back in with the witches and I kill people and people are trying to kill me and I have no idea how to take care of K-K-Katie."

"Shhhh," he soothed, rubbing circles between my shoulder blades trying to get me to relax. "You're going to be fine. Your aunts may be crazy, but they love you and you love Katie so everything will work out."

"Promise?" I asked childishly.

"Everything's going to be fine, Mags. We don't know for sure if someone was trying to kill you by blowing up your place, or if it was just bad luck."

"The Delveccios were at my apartment," I confided.

He stiffened. “Plural?”

“Both,” I sniffled. “At the same time. It was a first for me.”

“I’ve never seen them together. Did they threaten you?”

I shook my head. “No. They were kinda nice actually. Checking to see if I was okay.”

“Did they say what they were doing there?”

“They said they were in the area on business.”

Patrick pressed a kiss to the top of my head and slowly sat back. “Must have been some pretty important business for both of them to be there.”

“I didn’t ask.”

He smiled approvingly. “Good girl.” He offered me his mint Lifesavers.

I tried to take a candy from the roll, but my hand was shaking too badly. He popped one out of the cylinder and lifted it to my mouth. Obediently I parted my lips. He slipped it onto my tongue and rubbed my lower lip with his thumb. Before I could close my mouth he closed the distance between us, pressing his mouth against mine.

I practically melted while he kept the pressure steady, letting me absorb his warmth and strength without involving our tongues.

“If we sit here all night Marshal Griswald is going to get suspicious,” God warned from his spot in the cup.

“He’s got a lot to say tonight.” Pulling away from me, Patrick leaned over to get a better look at the lizard.

“You have no idea,” I muttered.

Patrick quirked an eyebrow at me.

Before he could start thinking I was nuttier than my mom, who’s institutionalized, I quickly said, “We should get going. We don’t want to make Griswald suspicious. Rule Number One: Don’t get caught.”

Shaking his head, Patrick teased, “You’re very selective about what rules you choose to remember and when.”

“Rebel,” Piss drawled from where she was curled at my feet. “I like that about you, Sugar.”

Reaching down, I rubbed the spot between her ears.

“So you’re keeping the cat too?” Patrick pulled the car back onto the road, heading for the B&B.

“She saved my life,” I said a tad defensively. “Twice.” The one-eyed feline had launched herself at a man who’d been ready to kill me and she’d been the one to smell the gas in the apartment.

“She can afford to,” God groused. “She’s got seven lives.”

“Really?” DeeDee panted from the backseat. Peering over my shoulder, her breath hot on my cheek, she stared at the battered cat like she was more fascinating than a t-bone.

The cat narrowed her eyes. “P’shaw,” she meowed noncommittally.

I wondered what that was supposed to mean, but since Patrick was sitting beside me, I didn’t think it was the best time to ask for clarification.

“If he asks what took us so long, we’ll tell Griswald the dog had to pee,” Patrick said. “I don’t think he’ll question that. He seemed a bit freaked out by her.”

“My idea,” the cat reminded everyone, preening.

“The sniffing was a great idea,” I said appreciatively.

“Huh?” Patrick asked, sliding a sideways glance in my direction. Something pretty close to panic flashed in his green gaze.

“I said it was a great idea,” I muttered. “It gave us a couple of minutes alone.”

“You told her to go stick her nose in his crotch?” Patrick asked, a mixture of shock and disbelief making his voice squeak the tiniest of bits as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel as though he was trying to hold on to reality.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I assured him. Somehow I managed to keep a straight face as I did my best to make it look like
he
was the crazy one. “Besides I can barely get her to sit on command, what makes you think I could get her to go over to Griswald and sniff?”

Patrick nodded, his grip loosening on the wheel.

“What a save,” God drawled sarcastically.

I considered tossing his cup out the window.

Even though it was the middle of the night, the Bed and Breakfast was lit up like Times Square when Patrick pulled to a stop in front of it.

I sighed heavily.

“Something wrong?” my redheaded murder mentor asked.

“I was hoping I could sneak in unnoticed, but it looks like everyone is up.”

“You didn’t really expect your aunt to keep quiet about your home blowing up, did you?”

I shrugged. “A girl can dream.”

“They have every right to be concerned about you,” Patrick chided gently. “Don’t do that thing you do.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where you avoid and/or push away. It’s annoying.”

I frowned.

“And not the least bit attractive,” he teased gently, chasing away my sullen expression.

Leave it to that man to flirt at the most inopportune moments.

My car door opened, startling me. I looked up to see Aunt Susan standing there, wrapped from head-to-toe in a chintz flannel nightgown complete with a high lace collar.

Just looking at it made me want to scratch my neck.

“There you are,” Aunt Susan said breathlessly.

“I’m fine,” I assured her climbing out of the car. Piss hopped out over my feet and disappeared into the yard.

“Of course you are,” Susan replied with a tinge of annoyance. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“Grass! Grass!” DeeDee panted excitedly.

“You’ve got to do something about her,” Susan complained.

“Okay, okay,” I muttered, opening the rear door of the car so that DeeDee could bound out and race in the direction Piss had taken off in.

“Not the dog,” Susan said with a heavy sigh. “Her!”

The ‘her’ my aunt was referring to was Aunt Leslie, who was stumbling across the yard, mumbling to herself and gesturing up to the sky like she was invoking some sort of drunken Wiccan spell.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Patrick lean forward to peer over the steering wheel at the deranged woman dancing in the moonlight.

“She’s high,” Susan muttered darkly, pulling her robe tight around herself. “I tried to get her to come inside before she falls and hurts herself, but she says she’ll only talk to you.”

Remembering how Aunt Susan had warned me that if-or-when Leslie stumbled on her sobriety journey Leslie would surely blame me, I wasn’t too keen on talking to the agitated woman.

“Please, Margaret,” Susan begged. She waved her arm in Leslie’s direction, signaling her disgust.

“I’ll do what I can.” I patted her arm. The flannel felt as scratchy as I’d imagined. “Why don’t you go inside?”

“It’s not like it’s much better in there,” she muttered before heading into the house.

Once she was out of earshot, I bent down to look at Patrick who remained parked behind the steering wheel like his butt was glued there. “Are you staying there all night?” I asked.

He looked toward Leslie who was wildly gesticulating and shrugged apologetically. “I don’t really
do
crazy.”

“Ha!” God mocked from the cup, which was still stuck in the cup holder.

Momentarily startled by the lizard’s outburst, Patrick and I both glanced at him. The little guy stuck his tongue out at me.

Ignoring the infantile reptile, I corrected Patrick. “She isn’t crazy. My mom is certifiably nuts, but Leslie isn’t. She’s just high.”

“On what?” Patrick asked.

“I dunno,” I admitted. “Usually pot’s her thing, but that…” I trailed off as she began to do some mutated version of The Chicken Dance. “….that is…new.”

“Disturbing,” Patrick opined solemnly. “Do you need my help?”

“No. You can go in the house.” I stepped away from the car, moving toward my wildly gyrating aunt.

“Don’t leave me here!” God bellowed.

Before I could ask Patrick to bring the little guy inside, the cop/hitman called out, “I’ll bring the lizard inside.”

I waved my acknowledgement, took a deep breath to fortify myself, and marched toward Aunt Leslie with a sense of determination I didn’t feel. “What are you doing?” I yelled out.

“Nothing,” I heard DeeDee whimper guiltily from the shadows, thinking I was asking her.

“Oh come
on
!” Stopping in my tracks, I put my hands on my hips and raged at the unseen dog. “I can’t watch you every moment of every day. I have things to do, you know. A life to live. I don’t need you getting into trouble every time I turn around.”

“I know,” Aunt Leslie said sheepishly, thinking I was yelling at her.

I turned my attention back to the chemically-enhanced woman. She’d stopped dancing. Now she swayed unsteadily like she was standing on the deck of a rolling ship instead of solid ground.

“I’m sorry,” Leslie murmured.

“Sorry,” DeeDee echoed, coming out of the shadows to stand behind Leslie.

The dog hung her head and my aunt held out her arms, both waiting for my forgiveness.

“Let’s go inside,” I said. “It’s been a long day. I was almost died a couple of times.”

“Blanche,” Leslie spat, like it was the single most vile name ever uttered.

I couldn’t blame her. According to Marshal Griswald, the woman we knew as Blanche was an operative working for the Lubovsky crime family. In order to get close to my family and find the evidence my father had stashed on the syndicate before going to prison, Blanche had befriended Aunt Leslie. Then her Narcotics Anonymous “sponsor” had tried to kill me.

“Blanche wasn’t your fault,” I told Leslie, moving forward and grabbing her hands. I tried to pull her toward the house. She wouldn’t budge.

For a moment, her sponsor’s betrayal acted like a splash of cold water on Leslie, sobering her up. “I should have known.”

I shook my head. “How could you have? You were vulnerable. She said all the right things.”

“You disliked her immediately.” She swayed slightly and almost imperceptibly slurred her words.

“I dislike
everyone
immediately,” I joked, tugging her forward. “Besides, you weren’t the only one who was fooled. Marshal Griswald had a mole on his team.”

“That man has a stick up his butt.” Leslie allowed me to lead her back to the house.

DeeDee followed close behind.

“Where’s the cat?” I asked.

“What cat?” Leslie turned around, looking for a non-existent kitty.

“Soon back,” DeeDee assured me.

Opening the back door, I let the dog rush into the B&B before helping Leslie navigate her way indoors.

“I need a nap,” she announced.

“That’s probably a good idea,” I agreed. “You can sleep it off.”

“Here,” she said, slumping against the nearest wall.

“Not here.” I yanked her arm hard, shaking her awake. “This is the dining room.”

“It’s got a floor,” she argued.

“A little help?” I shouted.

I didn’t get a response, except for DeeDee loping back in and then trying, ineffectually, to skid to a stop on Aunt Susan’s prized hardwood floor.