Maggie Lee | Book 28 | The Hitwoman Pays A Debt Read online

  The Hitwoman Pays a Debt

  Book 28

  JB Lynn

  Copyright © Jennifer Baum THE HITWOMAN PAYS A DEBT

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted by US copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The Hitwoman Pays a Debt is intended for 18+ older and for mature audiences only.

  © 2021 Jennifer Baum

  Editor: Parisa Zolfaghari

  Cover designer: Hot Damn Designs

  Proofreader: Proof Before You Publish

  Formatting: Leiha Mann

  Contents

  A note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  The Hitwoman Plays Courier

  Author’s Note

  Cursed Chicks Club

  Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

  Also by JB Lynn

  About JB Lynn

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  1

  You just know it’s going to be a bad day when you have to go shopping. I am not a retail kind of gal. In fact, I’m pretty sure that it’s people like me who are the reason catalogs, and then online shopping, was invented. I hate going to stores. I hate dealing with crowds. I hate trying things on.

  But I’d promised my niece, Katie, that I’d take her shopping for clothes, and so I was doomed to venture forth to the cursed land known as “the mall”.

  I stayed in bed for longer than usual, trying to gather my strength for the day. It’s not that I don’t love Katie, or that I don’t enjoy spending time with her, it was just the whole shopping thing. The thought of it made me pull the sheet over my head.

  “You can’t hide in here all day,” Godzilla, the anole lizard who prefers to go by God, pointed out.

  I threw off the sheet and glared at him. He was perched on a piece of driftwood, in his terrarium, judging me.

  You haven’t been judged until you’ve been judged by God.

  “I’m not hiding out all day,” I told him testily. “I’m just getting up a little later than usual.”

  “Go? Go? Go?” Benny, the little white mouse, called from his box.

  “Yes,” I told him. “I understand that God wants me to get up and get going.”

  “No, no, no!” the mouse countered. “Go with, go with, go with?”

  “You want to go shopping?” I asked the mouse incredulously, wondering why anyone would volunteer themselves for that particular brand of torture. Maybe all the time he’d spent spinning on a wheel had permanently addled his little mouse brain.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Benny cried enthusiastically.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” God moaned. “Just agree to take him so he’ll stop talking in triplicate.”

  “Okay,” I told Benny. “You can come with me. I could use the moral support.”

  “And I’m staying home,” God announced.

  “Coward,” I muttered, secretly jealous that he had the option of skipping the ordeal. I threw off the bedclothes, stepped into a pair of slippers, and padded out of the room, letting DeeDee, the Doberman, Piss, the one-eyed cat, and Matilda, the pig, out in front of me.

  The animals all stampeded toward the kitchen as though my getting up a little later than usual had forced them into starvation mode. I followed more slowly, unsure of who I’d encounter. Interacting with the wrong person first thing could potentially ruin one’s day. Still, the scent of coffee drew me in.

  “Good morning, Maggie,” Templeton said with a smile. Without asking, he reached for a cup and began to pour me some of his magical brew.

  My day was not immediately ruined.

  “Morning,” I said to the man who had been my Aunt Loretta’s fiancé but, who now, since their breakup, was just a member of the family.

  “Katie’s very excited about your outing,” he said, handing me the cup.

  I nodded, hiding my grimace by raising the mug to my mouth.

  He chuckled. “You don’t look enthused about it.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not really my idea of fun.”

  “But you’re doing the right thing, a good thing.”

  I nodded and took a sip of coffee. I felt slightly better. Stronger. Ready to take on the rioting minions of the mall. Coffee tends to have that effect on me.

  “Blueberry muffins are coming out of the oven in about three minutes,” he said, motioning for me to sit down at the kitchen table. I sank into the nearest seat, cradling the hot mug in my hands.

  “How are things with Loretta?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “She’s not speaking to me.”

  “I don’t think she’s speaking to any of us,” I muttered. My aunt had not taken well to the family vote to keep her ex-boyfriend living at the family compound. She’d cheated on him, but for some reason, she kept acting like he’d wronged her. She had been the only dissenting vote, which had made it very clear to her how we all felt about him.

  “Loretta talks to Leslie,” Templeton pointed out.

  I nodded. That made sense, after all, as twins, their bond is stronger than it is with anyone else.

  We heard a sniffle, then a sob before the crier entered the room.

  Templeton beat a hasty retreat, moving to stand beside the door that led outside as though he was ready to make a run for it at any moment. I just stared over the top of my steaming mug at my friend Armani Vasquez, who limped into the room. She was pretty close to wailing. There wasn’t enough coffee in the morning to make that an acceptable behavior, in my book.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked with a heavy sigh. I really wasn’t in the mood for whatever her drama was, not being fully caffeinated yet, but I felt obligated to ask.

  “We broke up,” she said, practically throwing herself into the chair opposite me.

  “You and Jack?”

  She sniffled and then blew her nose in a paper napkin.

  I wasn�
��t sure how I felt about this breakup. I actually thought that Jack Stern had been a good influence on my impulsive friend, but he was also a crime reporter, who I didn’t particularly like nosing around. Especially when you consider how many crimes I commit on a regular basis.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  “It’s not like it was a surprise,” she said. She looked around and found Templeton. “Is there any coffee?”

  He nodded, pushing himself away from the door. “I’ll get you a cup.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Why did you break up?” I asked curiously.

  “He said he needs his freedom,” she muttered.

  I raised my eyebrows. It seemed to me that Jack and Armani had one of the most open and freedom-filled relationships that I knew of. The fact that he was saying he needed more didn’t ring right.

  “It’s probably his stupid work,” she said bitterly.

  I nodded. He’d had a pretty big scoop when revealing the wrongdoings of District Attorney Reese, who had, among other things, tried to frame my dad and Delveccio for murder.

  “I thought he’d be celebrating,” I said. “That was quite the story.”

  She shrugged. “I think he’s the kind of person who is never going to be satisfied with an achievement. He’s always looking to do the next great thing.”

  Before she could elaborate, Aunt Susan burst in. “Oh, good, you’re here.”

  I held my breath, wondering which one of us she was eager to see.

  “You’re taking Katie shopping today, right?” she asked.

  I let out a sigh. Apparently, I was her target. “Yes.”

  “Don’t forget to get something for her to wear to Lawrence’s retirement party,” my aunt said.

  I nodded. She was very excited about her husband’s upcoming retirement from the U.S. Marshal service. Griswald, her husband, wasn’t feeling the same way about it.

  “And get something for yourself, Margaret,” she said sternly. “You can’t show up to the retirement party in jeans and a t-shirt.”

  I nodded my understanding.

  “Do you have money for this?”

  I nodded.

  She narrowed her eyes and looked at me suspiciously. “How? You haven’t had a real job in forever.”

  “I had some money saved up,” I lied. I couldn’t tell her that I earned my money by doing jobs for the local mob boss, Delveccio.

  “You need a job,” Susan told me.

  If my time at Insuring the Future was any indication, I was not made for a regular office job. Thankfully, I knew just how to distract her before she ended up sending my resume out for me. “But first,” I said, “I have to take Katie shopping for Griswald’s party.”

  2

  After listening to Aunt Susan prattle on about her expectations for Griswald’s retirement party, a celebration I sort of thought he didn’t even want, I took myself out to the barn. For once, I remembered to bring an apple for Irma, the donkey. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Maggie,” the donkey brayed.

  “Look what I brought you,” I said, holding up the apple.

  “You do like me,” the donkey replied. I handed her the apple and watched as she chomped it in about three bites.

  “What is this shopping thing that you’re doing with the little one?” she asked when she was done.

  “She needs new clothes,” I explained. “I’m taking her to get them.”

  “Humans and their obsession with coverings,” the donkey snorted. She shook her head and then leaned forward so that I could scratch her between her ears.

  Obliging her, I asked, “Have you seen Mike?”

  “He’s been making a pile of shiny things,” she said. “In the corner, there, by the door.”

  I walked away from her and examined the location she’d specified. Sure enough, there was a pile of pull tabs from soda cans, beer caps, and bits of aluminum foil.

  “Quite the stash,” I remarked.

  “Hands off, toots,” a voice squawked from behind me. I turned and found that the crow was perched on a nearby fencepost, watching me.

  “I wasn’t going to take it,” I said defensively.

  “That’s my loot,” he said.

  I nodded my understanding. “It’s for Katie?”

  The bird cocked his head to the side and remained silent. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

  “Your friend is here,” he said finally.

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “The one who feeds the dog,” Mike replied.

  Patrick Mulligan. My murder mentor, one-time lover, and the cop that occasionally uses his badge to help me out has a soft spot for DeeDee.

  “Where?” I asked tiredly.

  “End of the driveway,” the bird said. “Do you want me to lead you to him?”

  “I think I can find that on my own,” I told him. “Are you hungry? I can see if I can get you something to eat.”

  “No,” the bird said. “The old guy has been feeding me lately.”

  “Herschel?” I asked, surprised that my grandfather was doing such a thing. Ever since we’d exorcised my grandmother’s ghost from his little white dog Zippy, he’d seemed to give his canine companion most of his attention.

  “No, the one who can’t talk with me. The one who spends all his time in the kitchen,” Mike corrected.

  “Templeton,” I said. Every day I had another reason to like that man more.

  Leaving the donkey and the crow, I walked up the driveway in search of Patrick. I found him leaning against his car, as though he somehow knew I’d show up.

  “Hey, Mags,” he said with a sly, easy smile.

  “Hey.” I kept my distance, trying to hide my reaction to him. Even though our relationship hadn’t worked out, I still found him to be ridiculously attractive, at times. This was one of those instances.

  “I need your help.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a hard look. “You need my help, or our mutual boss needs my help?”

  “Me.” He pushed himself off the car and stepped closer to me. “This is definitely me. Nothing to do with Delveccio.”

  I nodded my understanding. There was a note of tension in his voice. Looking at him more carefully, I realized that the lines around his eyes seemed deeper than usual. Patrick Mulligan was under some kind of stress.

  “I’d appreciate it if we could just keep this between the two of us.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t make that kind of promise. You know that people are always watching me.”

  He nodded his understanding and offered me a wintergreen LifeSaver candy. I shook my head, declining the mint.

  “I think my partner’s up to something,” Patrick revealed.

  I stared at him for a long beat. I hadn’t realized that he had a partner at the moment. The last woman he’d been with, or at least that I’d known he’d been with, the woman he’d left me for, I’d ended up accidentally killing. Well, to be technical, she’d actually done it to herself by falling on a needle that she’d been going to use to kill him. “You have a partner?”

  He scowled. “Of course.”

  I looked away, smarting from his matter-of-fact tone and hating my own flare of jealousy even more. Would I never learn?

  “All cops have partners,” he told me.

  “You’re talking about a police partner?” I asked, finally catching up. For a moment, I was very glad that I had left God in his enclosure. At least he hadn’t heard me make a fool of myself in this particular situation.

  A flash of amusement glowed in his green gaze as Patrick realized what I’d been thinking. Still, he needed a favor, so he was smart enough not to say anything. “Brody. I think he’s up to something.”

  “Like what?”

  He frowned. “I’m not sure. He’s acting suspiciously. Secretive phone calls, disappearing at strange times.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Maybe he thinks you act suspiciously.”
r />   “Maybe he does,” Patrick agreed. “The point is, I need you to follow him for me.”

  “Me?” I practically squeaked. I am not known for my tailing skills.

  “You’re the only one I can trust, Mags.”

  The intensity of his tone was compelling.

  “I’ll probably get caught.”

  “I know,” he admitted. “But that tells you how desperate I am for your help.”

  I frowned, unhappy about my murder mentor’s lack of faith in my abilities. It wasn’t exactly a confidence booster.

  “Please, Mags.”

  I owed Patrick Mulligan a lot. Even though our personal relationship was sometimes messy and complicated, he’d been good to me. If he hadn’t trained me, I would have never pulled off my first job for Delveccio. Without that, I wouldn’t have been able to get Katie the kind of care she’d needed when she was in a coma after the car accident that had killed her parents.

  “I’ll do what I can,” I promised. Even as I said the words, I knew I was making a mistake.

  3

  I was walking back down the driveway when Griswald found me. I could tell from the way Aunt Susan’s husband’s shoulders were raised and the corners of his mouth were dropped, that he had something on his mind.

  “Maggie,” he called. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “You found me.”

  “You’re taking Katie shopping?”

  I nodded. I wasn’t quite sure why everyone seemed to be so concerned about the idea of me taking my niece shopping. I mean, how hard could it be? I’m an adult and she’s a kid. It had to be easier than herding cats (something I’d probably be decent at, considering I can talk to them). I gave him a tight smile. “I’ve already been reminded to make sure to get her something nice to wear to your retirement party.”