The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost (8 page)

He eyed me suspiciously, not believing my story.

Eager to prove myself, I reached a hand under my shirt, trying to scoop out my reptilian friend.

“Sensitive skin,” he shouted.

“Show yourself,” I ordered God.

“Only because I’m afraid you might end up getting shot in the chest and that wouldn’t bode well for me,” God groused, climbing from his hiding place.

Delveccio stared as my squeaking shirt moved while the lizard wriggled to the neckline and peeked out.

“Satisfied?” God and I asked simultaneously.

The mobster visibly relaxed. “For a second there I thought you were wearing a wire.”

“I’d never do that,” I assured him.

“Never say never, kid,” Delveccio said.

“Am I dismissed?” God asked.

The mobster frowned. “The little guy doesn’t look happy.”

“Smart man!” God crowed. “Can’t get anything past him.”

“Shhhh!” I folded my hands over my chest as one of the cafeteria glanced over at us to see what the high-pitched noise was. “Go back to sleep.”

“Who can sleep when you never shut up?” God asked, but thankfully he climbed back down to where he was nestled between my breasts.

Delveccio raised an eyebrow. “You talk to your lizard?”

“People talk to their dogs and cats.”

Delveccio shrugged. “Guess so. Anyway, as I was saying before I became convinced you were selling me out to the Feds...”

“I wouldn’t—”

He held up a hand to silence me. “That’s what they all say, up until the moment they’re sitting in court testifying against me. Which brings me to this guy.” He pointed at the newspaper. “I need you to take care of this back-stabbing son-of-a-bitch.”

A quick glance at the paper revealed the target of Delveccio’s wrath was a mild-mannered, balding man named Ira Frankel. The headline beneath his picture told me that the mild-mannered man had accepted a plea deal.

“That guy?” I said disbelievingly.

“Him. Ira is an accountant.” He delivered the explanation as though being an accountant made him the devil incarnate.

“But he looks so harmless.”

Delveccio snorted. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“Sheep don’t wear clothing,” God muttered from the depths of my bosom. “Only humans have egos that demand they constantly adorn themselves.”

Ignoring the unwanted philosophical musings of the lizard, I asked the mobster, “What did he do?”

“He betrayed me.” Delveccio’s cold tone sent a shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard, trying not to think about what he’d do to me if I ever crossed him. “What did he do?”

Delveccio looked away, clearly not comfortable discussing the details. I wondered if I was his second choice for the job because Patrick would have asked fewer questions. Still, even though I’ve somehow become a gun for hire, I have my standards. I needed to know whether this guy, Ira, deserved to die.

“It would be helpful to know what I’m going up against,” I prompted gently.

Delveccio twisted his pinky ring. I thought perhaps he wasn’t going to tell me, but then he started. “He’s a double-dipping, double-crossing, double-faced jerk.”

“He has two faces?” God mocked. “Why’d the guy turn to a life of crime? He could make a fortune with the circus.”

Biting back a grin, I asked Delveccio for clarification. “How so?”

“He was running my books for my legitimate enterprises, but it ended up he was stealing from us.”

I assumed that “us” meant him and his identical twin, Tony/Anthony Delveccio. I’ve never been able to tell them apart.

“Then when one of my honest accountants figured it out—”

“Hang on,” I interrupted. “You have honest accountants on your payroll?”

“I’m not just a bad guy,” he reminded me. “I’ve got lots of honest employees working for me. It’s just that most don’t know they’re working for me.”

I nodded, digesting that information.

“Anyway,” he continued, “one of my honest accountants found out, but before he could tell me what was going on, Ira killed him.”

“Killed him?” I asked, looking down at the paper and trying to picture the mild man in the photograph resorting to violence. “How?”

“With an abacus!” God shouted.

Shaking his head at my squeaking chest, Delveccio said, “Smashed his head in.”

“That’s gotta hurt,” God opined.

Pulling the collar of my shirt away from my neck, I peered inside my blouse. “Shut up or there will be no crickets for you!”

When I glanced up, I realized the mob boss was giving me the same shrewdly assessing look my mom’s psychologists sometimes give her. I seemed to be getting that very look from a lot of people lately. On the one hand, it made me nervous that perhaps I really was starting to lose it. On the other, it annoyed me that they thought I was that weak.

“How did he smash his head in?” I asked Delveccio, thinking that whatever method he detailed might be worth trying on God.

“Crowbar.”

“An accountant kept a crowbar in his office?”

The mobster chuckled, “Naah. He kept it in his car. Ira just waited for the other guy to come out to the parking lot and he hit him upside his head.

“In a parking lot?” That sounded like a definite violation of Rule Number One: Don’t Get Caught.

“Guy is numbers smart, not street smart.”

I nodded, storing that tidbit of information away. I’d have to use his lack of street smarts to my advantage.

“Dead guy left behind a wife and sick kid.” Delveccio shook his head. “Such a waste. And now Ira is cutting a deal on his murder rap to testify against my organization.”

“Does he have anything on you?” I asked.

“Do you think I’d be looking for the redhead and settling for you if he didn’t?”

Chastised, I nodded and looked away.

“So here’s the thing. Ya gotta do it before Monday morning.”

I jerked my head up. “You’re kidding.”

“The D.A. comes back from his vacation then. It’s when he gives his statement and once they have that...”

“But he already made a deal.”

“My sources tell me he made the deal to cooperate with them about our organization, but since the D.A. was away, he hasn’t spilled the beans yet.”

“Why would they wait for him to get back?” I asked. “Surely there’s more than one District Attorney who could take his statement.”

Remaining silent, Delveccio raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly.

I frowned, confused. “I don’t—”

“The D.A.’s on the take, you moron,” God whispered, saving me from looking like a fool in front of the mob boss.

I paused, considering his theory. It seemed plausible.

“You don’t what?” Delveccio asked.

“I don’t know about the schedule,” I said carefully. “There isn’t much time to plan and execute.”

“I don’t care about your plan,” Delveccio informed me. “Just make sure you execute.” His tone convinced me that there wasn’t any room for discussion of the topic.

“Yes, sir.” My stomach roiled nervously as I wondered what I’d gotten myself into.

“Go visit your niece,” the mobster ordered. “And make sure that lizard visits my grandson too.”

I nodded and stood as God railed, “Are you pimping me out to treat comatose kids now?”

I heard Katie’s screams from all the way down the corridor.

My heart stuttered.

“Oh no.” Even the lizard sounded worried.

I broke into a full-out run, racing toward the sound of her cries. I practically mowed down a nurse in my haste, terrified that I wouldn’t get to her in time.

Vinnie was nowhere in sight which meant that her room had been left unguarded.

“Nooooo!” Katie wailed.

“Save her!” God urged.

Adrenaline pumping through me, I barreled into the room. The man was leaning over the bed, his back to the door so he never saw me coming.  I plowed into him full force. It wasn’t the most efficient tackle, but it did the job. We both ended up on the ground.

“Get away!” I screamed as he lifted his head from the tile. “Get away from her or I’ll kill you.” I scrambled around looking for a weapon.

“Hey!” he protested.

“Kill ’em! Kill ’em!” God shouted.

Jumping to my feet, I grabbed a visitor’s chair. Hefting it overhead, I brandished it over him. “One move and you’re a dead man.”

“Margaret! Stop this right now!”

My grip on the chair wavered. I knew that voice. I turned in its direction and found Aunt Susan staring at me aghast.

“What are you doing?” she asked, appalled.

“Katie...” I started to explain, shifting my gaze to my niece who was sitting up in her bed, watching me intently. She didn’t look hurt. I’d gotten here in time. The instant relief made my start to shake. I lowered the chair slightly.

“Katie doesn’t want to eat her vegetables.” Susan pushed past me, bending over the victim of my linebacker-wanna-be tackle. “Why on Earth would you attack Bob?”

I looked at the man who Susan was helping up from the floor. I almost dropped the chair when I realized he was Bob, Aunt Susan’s boyfriend. “Bob.”

“Oops,” God muttered.

“I’m so sorry.” I put the chair back on the floor and hurried to help him up. “I didn’t know it was you. I thought Katie was being attacked.”

“So you ran in and tackled him?” Susan asked, guiding Bob to sit in the chair I’d almost broken over his head.

“I didn’t realize it was him. I heard her screaming and he was leaning over the bed and...” I shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

“He was trying to get her to eat her carrots,” Susan informed me coldly. “And you barging in here and physically attacking someone is not acceptable no matter what the circumstances.”

“Give the girl a break,” Bob said. “Considering all she’s been through lately, her reaction was understandable.”

“Understandable?” Susan shrieked. “Understandable?”

Bob patted her leg. “Yes, dear. She was protecting her family. You can’t fault her for that.”

“I most certainly can.”

“But you shouldn’t,” Bob’s admonishment was voiced softly, but laced with an edge of steel. “People have been hurting Maggie and her family. You should commend her for her willingness to put herself in the path of danger.”

“Thank you,” I murmured. “Thank you for understanding, Bob.”

He smiled up at me. “You, young lady, pack quite a punch.”

I winced. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t break anything. I’ll live.”

“Luckily,” Susan said. “Really, Margaret—”

“Why don’t you go find me something to drink?” Bob interrupted.

Susan blinked at him, accustomed to being the one giving orders.

“Really,” Bob told her sternly. “Go for a walk. Calm down and bring me back a drink.”

She opened her mouth to reply.

“Please,” he added firmly, before winking at her.

“Impossible,” she grumbled under her breath as she strode out of the room. “You’re all impossible.”

“She’s not wrong. The women in this family are impossible.” Bob looked over at Katie who was watching the exchange like it was a Wimbledon match. “That includes you, young lady.”

She beamed, obviously proud of herself.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I promised him.

“Call my sister about that job she wants to give you. That’ll be penance enough.”

I blinked. “That’s what you want from me?”

“Yup.”

“But I tackled you.”

“You certainly did.”

“But why...?”

He held up a finger to stop me. “I like you, Maggie. And sometimes the things that don’t show up on resumes are the things that are worth their weight in gold. Like that you work hard and you’re loyal to your family. Just give her a call. Let her explain what she’s offering. I’m not asking you to take the job. I’m just asking you to consider it. Will you do that for me?”

I nodded.

“Good girl.” Jerking his chin in Katie’s direction, he added, “Now let’s see if you can get her to eat her vegetables without her screaming her little head off.”

Turning to Katie, I gave her my sternest look. “Eat your vegetables, Katie.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stuck out her lower lip defiantly.

“They’ll help you grow big and strong,” I cajoled, despising the note of desperation in my voice.

She shook her head.

Too tired and overwhelmed to do battle with her, I shrugged my surrender. “Okay.”

She flashed a victory grin.

“I was going to let you visit with Godzilla, but if you’re going to be that way...” I turned my back on her. “Help me out here,” I whispered to the lizard.

Surprisingly, he obliged by scampering out of my shirt and onto my waiting palm. I carefully placed him down on the other bed in the room. He scampered up Dominic and lay down on his chest.

“Hey,” Katie protested.

“Your choice, baby girl,” I told her. “You eat your vegetables and you can play with Godzilla.”

“That’s blackmail,” the lizard said.

“That’s bribery,” Bob remarked.

“That’s effective,” I told them both as Katie began shoveling peas and carrots into her mouth.

It was the first thing that had gone right all day and I didn’t bother to hide my proud smile.

Of course forty-five minutes later, I wasn’t feeling proud. I was in full-blown panic-mode.

“Where is she?” I asked as I neared the spot where I’d left DeeDee tied up.

“She who?” God asked drowsily.

I had the distinct impression that the time he’d spent with Delveccio’s grandson and Katie had taken a lot out of him.

“The dog. She’s gone.”

That stirred the scaly beast. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

“She isn’t where we left her.”

He dragged himself upward to peer over the collar of my shirt. “She isn’t here.”

“That’s what I said.” I examined the tree I’d tied her leash around. The leash was nowhere to be seen. “But she promised,” I muttered.

“What makes you think her word is any good?” the lizard said testily. “She can’t even construct a grammatically correct sentence.”

“She’s a dog,” I snapped back.

“So?”

“They’re supposed to be loyal.”

“Well it’s your fault for leaving her here. She probably got hungry and ran after the first piece of food that crossed her path,” God said.