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Maggie Lee | Book 29 | The Hitwoman Plays Courier Read online




  The Hitwoman Plays Courier

  Book 29

  JB Lynn

  Copyright © Jennifer Baum THE HITWOMAN PLAYS COURIER

  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 Plays Courier 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

  Prologue

  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

  Author’s Note

  Cursed Chicks Club

  Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

  Also by JB Lynn

  About JB Lynn

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  Prologue

  You just know it’s going to be a bad day when you wake up next to a dead body.

  “Trouble! Trouble! Trouble!” Benny squeaked nervously.

  I flicked my gaze from the little white mouse, over to the man who had his head split open.

  “What happened?” I tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. My mouth was too dry. Hoping to get a better look at the situation, I tried to roll over—and felt like my head was going to explode.

  I moved my tongue around, licked my lips and tried again, gasping out, “Where’s God?”

  “Gone, gone, gone,” Benny revealed.

  That was worse than the body.

  1

  I frowned at my reflection in the mirror, deciding that my scowl looked very unparty-ish. I didn’t want to go.

  “Who holds dinner parties?” I muttered.

  God, the anole lizard perched on my shoulder, replied, “Apparently, your brother’s girlfriend.”

  I rolled my eyes. Making an effort to be friendly with Kristen, Ian’s girlfriend, at the retirement party for Griswald, my aunt Susan’s husband, had been a mistake. She’d told me why she moonlights as a mob doctor, and being the sap that I am, I’d felt sorry for her. I know what it’s like to need extra cash to take care of a sick loved one. Now, because I’d shown her a moment of kindness, I had to endure an evening of torture. No good deed goes unpunished.

  A knock on my bedroom door had me turning away from the mirror. I opened it to find my niece, Katie, staring up at me. “What’s up, kiddo?” I waved her into the room.

  As soon as she stepped inside, she pressed the door closed behind her. “We need to talk about Dominic.”

  I nodded slowly. “It’s been a little busy, honey.”

  My niece, convinced that her friend was not at the appropriate reading level, wanted him to come to school with her and her cousin Alicia. While I admired the fact that she was looking out for her pal, it was putting me in a very difficult position. One, I’d have to discuss the literacy level of Dominic with his grandfather, the mob boss Delveccio—and there was no way that would go over well—and two, I didn’t think that my family would be too keen on the idea of educating a mobster’s grandson right here on our property. I’d hoped she’d forget about this little education crusade, but that wasn’t happening.

  She stamped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. “You promised.”

  “And I’m working on it.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as I can.”

  She squinted as though she’d spotted a tell and knew I was lying.

  Another knock on the door saved me from getting into a full-blown argument with her. I yanked the door open, almost knocking Katie, who was standing with her back to it, over in the process.

  My Aunt Susan stood on the other side, scowling. I gulped nervously, wondering what I’d done wrong, but I couldn’t think of anything. Her gaze narrowed as she focused on the lizard on my shoulder.

  “He salted the meat.” Susan made the announcement as though that was the worst thing anybody in the history of the planet had ever done.

  “Excuse me?” I replied carefully.

  “He salted the meat. Templeton. You all voted for him to stay and now he’s taking over my kitchen.”

  I swallowed a smile. Templeton, my Aunt Loretta’s ex-fiancé, was a good cook and he’d slowly taken over the kitchen during his time with us.

  “You voted for him to stay, too,” I reminded her gently.

  “I’m starting to regret that.” She tapped her foot impatiently as though she expected me to somehow fix the salted dead animal flesh situation.

  “I don’t know what you want me to do,” I said with a helpless shrug.

  “Talk to him,” she implored. “He likes you.”

  “He likes you, too,” I countered.

  “But we argue,” she said. “Maybe he sees too much of Loretta in me.”

  I smirked. I couldn’t think of two people who were more unalike than straightlaced Susan and her outlandish sister Loretta. The pinched lines around Susan’s mouth indicated she did not appreciate my amusement.

  “He’s just trying to be helpful,” I said.

  “But he cooks every meal,” Susan complained.

  “There are a lot of women who would love to have a man in the house who cooks every meal.”

  “Well, not me.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” I said. “But the two of you are going to have to work out some sort of schedule for the kitchen.”

  She gave me a curt nod and then turned her attention to Katie. “Did you do your homework?”

  Lifting her chin, Katie said, with an unmistakable note of defiance in her young voice, “Miss Lassalan doesn’t give us homework. We don’t need it.”

  I held my breath. If I had spoken to Susan the way Katie did when I was her age, I would have lived to regret it.

  Susan blinked, unaccustomed to hearing such resistance from those younger than her. T
o her credit, she recovered quickly. “Well, what are you doing with your time, then?”

  “I’m trying to convince Aunt Maggie to help Dominic learn to read.” Katie frowned at me pointedly.

  A slight smile played at Aunt Susan’s lips. “While that’s a noble endeavor, Katie. I’m not sure it’s the best use of anyone’s time.”

  “You promised,” Katie reminded me.

  Sighing heavily, I nodded. “I did.”

  My niece ran out of the room.

  Susan gave me a full-on smirk. “It’s kind of karma that you have to deal with her.”

  “Are you saying I was difficult as a child?”

  Susan just threw back her head, laughed, and walked away.

  I hadn’t even had the chance to close my bedroom door again when Armani called, “Hey, chica.”

  I turned in the direction that she was limping from. I winced when I saw that she was carrying her bag of Scrabble tiles. That meant she had some kind of psychic prediction for me.

  “Maybe she’s going to say something about the dinner party,” God whispered.

  Wordlessly, my friend held out the bag to me. I pulled out seven tiles, ushered her into the room, and laid them out on the bed in alphabetical order.

  B, E, H, L, O, P, R.

  “Blip hero,” she declared immediately.

  “What’s a blip hero?” I asked, refraining from pointing out there was no I.

  She shrugged. We both stared at the letters for a long time. “Her prob,” I suggested. “Short for her problem.”

  “Whose problem?” Armani asked.

  It was my turn to shrug. “Rob help,” Armani said. “Do you know a Robert? He must need help.”

  I shook my head.

  “That’s got to be it,” Armani declared. “You’ve got to find a Rob who needs your help.”

  “If you say so,” I said weakly.

  She glanced at me. “You’re in a mood. What’s wrong?”

  I sighed. “I have to go to a dinner party.”

  2

  I had been tasked with bringing dessert to the party, so on my way over to Ian’s place, I swung by the neighborhood grocery store and picked up a sheet cake from their bakery department.

  “Fancy,” God mocked from my shoulder. “It’s got blue roses and everything. Is that really what you’re bringing?”

  I looked suspiciously at the blue roses for a moment, then shrugged. “Who doesn’t like cake?”

  “Me,” he said smugly.

  “Besides you,” I muttered.

  Realizing that the other shoppers in the store were giving me strange looks because it appeared I was having a one-sided conversation, I acted as though I was on a phone call. “I’m losing you.”

  “Never,” God told me.

  Deciding I wanted to make a good impression at this dinner party, I swung by the floral department and picked up a bunch of mixed flowers for the hostess.

  “Look at you,” God mocked, “making an effort to be a real adult. While you’re at it, drink more water. Dehydration is dangerous.”

  “Shut up,” I muttered. But he was right. I was trying. I didn’t particularly like that Ian was involved with Kristen, but I was going to at least attempt to hide that. It’s not like I could tell him why I wasn’t thrilled about it anyway.

  I’d just put the cake into the trunk of my car when I heard a familiar voice say from behind me, “Hey, Mags.”

  My knees went a little weak as I turned around to find Patrick Mulligan, my former murder mentor, current cop, and former lover, smiling at me.

  “I like the truck.” Usually, he tended to ride around in nondescript sedans. The big white pickup truck he was driving was something different.

  “Do you have a minute?”

  I nodded. I got back into my car and followed the truck out of the parking lot. Recently, Patrick had gotten jealous because he’d caught me making out with Gino, Delveccio’s bodyguard, when I was supposed to be tailing Kristen’s brother, Patrick’s police partner, Brody.

  Patrick had apologized later but things had still felt strained between us. I was hoping that whatever this was going to be would make things a little bit easier. After all, he had been good to and for me in a number of ways. I hated having tension between us.

  “He wants something,” God warned. He’d repositioned himself so that he was now in the center of the dashboard of the car. “He only shows up when he wants something.”

  “Untrue,” I countered. “He’s shown up to help me out plenty of times.”

  I knew the lizard couldn’t disagree because he remained silent.

  We parked in the lot of a closed bank.

  Patrick hopped out of his truck and climbed into the passenger seat of my car. “I think we need to talk.”

  My stomach clenched nervously. That sounded ominous. I forced myself to ask nonchalantly, “What’s up?”

  “I screwed up,” Patrick said. He was watching me intently, and not for the first time, his eyes reminded me of green olives.

  My stomach rumbled in response.

  “Hungry?” He chuckled.

  “I’m on my way to dinner,” I replied. I waited to find out how he’d messed up.

  “We had a good thing, Mags,” he said, leaning closer to me. Near enough that I could smell the minty scent of wintergreen Lifesavers on his breath.

  My heartbeat sped up and I fought the urge to sway toward him. I don’t know what it is about Patrick Mulligan, but he has some sort of magnetic effect on me. We can’t get too far apart without being drawn back together.

  “Tell him you’ve moved on,” God coached from his perch.

  Patrick’s eyes widened and he shook his head a little at the squeaking sound.

  Deciding that God’s advice was sound, I reminded Patrick, “We’ve both moved on.”

  “But I can’t get you out of my head,” Patrick said. Something in the way his voice pitched low as he admitted that made my entire body flush with heat. He leaned closer, lowering his lips toward mine.

  “Abort! Abort!” God shouted.

  Startled, I leaned back, putting some distance between myself and the redhead.

  “I’m going to earn your trust again, Mags,” he vowed.

  I shook my head. We’d committed crimes together and that had gone well. It was only when we’d tried to have a romantic relationship that things had gone sideways. “I don’t—”

  He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing my protest.

  “It’s not up for debate. It’s what I’m going to do.” He stared at where he was touching my lips for a long moment. I thought that he was going to try to kiss me again. I gulped. I wasn’t sure if I was nervous or anticipating.

  After a long moment, he raised his eyes to meet my own, intention glimmering in the depths of his gaze. “I screwed up, Mags. But I’m going to fix us.” With that, he climbed out of my car.

  As he got into his truck, I raised a hand to my lips, retracing where he’d made contact.

  “You’re going to be late for the party,” God reminded me crossly.

  Knowing he was right; I started the car. Putting my hands on the wheel, I glanced over at Patrick, who was watching me from his truck, and then drove away.

  “You can’t do this,” God lectured as I drove. He paced back and forth across the dashboard. “It’s a bad idea. It’s a terrible idea.”

  I knew he wasn’t wrong, but I was also intrigued. Assuming one doesn’t find the man repulsive, it’s a heady thing to have someone express his desire. Despite our difficulties, I definitely wasn’t repulsed by Patrick. Knowing he wanted me back had an intoxicating effect, and I found myself grinning.

  The lizard snapped his tail, his equivalent of stomping his feet. “You’re inviting trouble. You have enough of that in your life. You don’t have to ask it in.”

  “I didn’t ask,” I pointed out. “He just stated his plan.”

  “And you didn’t do anything to shoot it down,” the lizard railed angrily.
>
  “I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I told him.

  “Of course not,” he muttered. “You won’t listen to sense.”

  3

  I was the last person to arrive for dinner. I frowned as I parked my car, having a good idea who was there. I stared at the pickup truck painted with flames and let out a shaky sigh. “This complicates things.”

  God, who hadn’t been speaking to me, asked, “What does?”

  “That’s Brody’s truck,” I told him. Brody, Kristen’s brother, was Patrick’s police partner. A man that Patrick didn’t trust and had asked me to follow for him.

  “Well, maybe she just wanted her brother there for moral support,” the lizard pointed out as he ran up my arm and dove into my bra. “You are going to your brother’s place.”

  I nodded, but knowing how Patrick felt about Brody made me nervous. “I don’t like it.”

  “Hello, Maggie,” a sultry female voice greeted. I looked around and spotted an opossum waddling toward me..

  “Hello, Mandy.”

  Realizing that she’d overheard my conversation with God, I squinted at the opossum worriedly. Like me, Ian can talk to animals. If Mandy told him about how I’d identified Brody’s truck, things could get complicated. More complicated.

  “I’m not sure how much you heard,” I began. “But it was out of context.”

  The opossum cackled, baring her teeth, an expression that made her look absolutely terrifying. “I don’t like Brody, either.”