The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 8) (6 page)

“Me in let?” DeeDee asked from outside the storm door.

I hurried to let her back inside. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”

“Problem no.” She nuzzled my hand affectionately.

That’s what I like about my dog. Sure she’s not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but she doesn’t hold a grudge, unlike certain lizards and cats I know.

“Sorry to bother you,” Marlene said. “I brought you some cookies.” She held out the platter that had been on the dining room table.

This worried me. She was being polite and came bearing gifts.

“Cookie?” DeeDee panted hopefully.

Taking one from the tray, I tossed it to the dog.

“Don’t tell the witches,” I ordered my sister.

“Never.” Taking another cookie, she too tossed it to the dog.

“What’s up?” I asked, plopping down on the couch and patting the seat beside me.

Instead of the human being taking the seat, the dog took me up on the invitation and hopped up.

“Not you.” I laughed, trying to push her off.

Cocking her head, she looked at me perplexed and panted, “Me not?”

“There’s room for all three of us,” Marlene said, moving to the opposite end of sofa and squeezing in beside DeeDee.

This caused the Doberman to wriggle forward. She rested her head on my shoulder and stared up at me with her dark, warm eyes, silently challenging to kick her off now.

My response was to kiss her snout. “Fine. You can stay.”

She licked my cheek in appreciation before laying her head in my lap.

Looking over the dog, I gave Marlene an expectant look.

“I need your advice,” Marlene began haltingly.

“About what?”

“Doc.”

“The stripper?”

We’d met Doc when, dressed as a police officer for one of his stripping jobs, he’d inadvertently saved us from Marlene’s ex-pimp.

“He’s more than a stripper,” she told me indignantly. “He’s studying to become a paramedic. He wants to save lives.”

“An admirable goal,” I murmured, wondering what he’d think of the fact I took lives as a second job.

“He saved your life,” she reminded me.

“Indeed he did.” If he hadn’t showed up and given me the Heimlich maneuver, I might have been a goner. Oddly enough, Armani had actually predicted I’d need “THRUSTS” with her Scrabble tiles.

“Die no,” DeeDee whined softly, nuzzling her head into my abdomen, until I patted her reassuringly.

“So what did you want to ask my advice about?”

Marlene focused all her attention on the dog’s back. “Do you think I should go out with him?”

“Like on a date?”

She nodded without looking at me. “He wants to take me to dinner and a movie.”

“He seems to be a nice guy,” I said slowly. I actually felt kind of sorry for the big, sweet lunk. He’d been besotted with Marlene from the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

“But I’m not a nice girl,” she whispered, ducking her head.

Her sense of shame made my heart ache. “Yes, you are.”

“Are yes. Feed,” DeeDee panted.

Marlene shook her head and I was horrified to see a river of tears flowing down her face. “I’m a whore.”

I flinched, but I wasn’t sure if it was at the word or at her self-hating tone.

Apparently, it bothered the Doberman too because she awkwardly turned around and began licking away Marlene’s tears.

“You’re more than that,” I said softly, echoing her own words back at her. “Doc seems like a pretty reasonable guy. I think he’d try to understand if you explain it to him.”

“I already did.” She wrapped her arms around DeeDee’s neck to keep the dog from smothering her with “helpful” kisses.

I hesitated a beat before asking, “And what was his reaction?”

“He was shocked.”

“Understandable.” I was shocked too when I’d first found out my baby sister had been turning tricks.

“But he understood,” she admitted softly. “And he’s okay with it.”

“He’s okay with it?” I asked, not trying to mask my surprise. There were days when I still wasn’t okay with the choices she’d made, but then I remembered I’d made some doozies myself.

She nodded. “Yes. He asked me out after I told him everything.”

“Oh.”

“That’s not very helpful,” she complained.

“It’s the best I’ve got.”

DeeDee licked away the last of the tears.

“I don’t understand what the problem is or why you’re asking me for advice,” I admitted. “He’s crazy about you. You’ve been honest with him. Why not see where it goes?”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Well surely you can go to a doctor and get yourself checked out.”

That got her to finally look up from the dog. “You don’t think I’m vigilant about practicing safe sex and having regular health screenings?”

I shrugged. She’d had sex with random men for money, how was I supposed to know what she did or did not practice?

She glared at me.

Afraid to say the wrong thing, I just waited for her to continue.

“I’m afraid that if it comes out that he’s seeing a whore it could hurt him.”

“Do you think you could use another word?” I requested. “That one makes me uncomfortable.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Besides you’re not doing that anymore. You’ve moved on to bigger and better things.”

“Yeah,” Marlene quipped. “Now instead of spending my time in cheap motel rooms, lying to guys about how big and strong they are, I’m at The Corset Closet trying to sell overpriced lingerie and lying to women about how cute and ‘not fat’ they are.”

“Better you than me,” I muttered, shuddering at the idea of working for Aunt Loretta. “Still, with Loretta playing nursemaid to Templeton, I’m sure your help is really appreciated.”

Marlene nodded grudgingly. “So she keeps saying.”

“I think Doc is a big boy and can make his own decisions. He wants to go to dinner and a movie with you. He’s a nice guy. He’s got a life plan. He’s got a job... of sorts. Why not just say yes?”

“Yes,” DeeDee barked softly.

Seeing the hesitation on her face, I hurriedly added, “Decide you’re going to go on the date, but that you won’t have sex or perform any sexual acts with him. Then you’ll have a better idea whether he likes you for you, or if he thinks you’re easy.”

“I am easy,” she reminded me.

“You
were
easy,” I corrected. “Now you get to start over. Fresh start. New rules.”

“So you think I should do it?”

“Absolutely,” I told her.

“Thanks, Maggie.” Jumping up, almost knocking the dog off the couch in the process, she hurried toward the basement stairs. “It smells like fish in here,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Cat food.”

Deciding that I wouldn’t get any peace at the B&B, I abandoned my plans for TV and a nap, packed DeeDee in the car with a promise of a fast food hamburger, and headed back to the hospital. If I couldn’t rest, I’d spend my time trying to do what Patrick had asked of me.

Heading for the visitors’ parking lot, I drove past the handicapped parking spots in the front, figuring that if Patrick’s wife was there, she had to be parked in one of them. Of course I didn’t know what kind of vehicle I was looking for, so it was a fruitless effort. I parked my car.

“What now?” DeeDee asked from the backseat.

“We wait.”

“Wait?”

“If she’s here, she’ll come out eventually,” I told the dog. “When she does, we’ll follow her.”

“Not here she’s what if?”

“Huh?” Sometimes I missed having the lizard around as a translator because there were times the dog’s mangled language made no sense to me.

“Not here she’s what if,” the mutt repeated.

I thought about that for a minute, reordering her words in my head. “What if she’s not here?” I asked, finally, feeling triumphant.

“Yes.”

“I haven’t really thought this plan out,” I confessed.

“Okay that’s.” She licked my ear, then lay down in the backseat.

Soon, I heard her snoring.

“You’re not much of a stakeout partner,” I complained, but she didn’t hear me because she was sleeping.

Fifteen minutes later, I took a spin through the lot. Imagine my surprise when I spotted Patrick’s wife rolling down the hospital’s exit ramp.

Hanging back so she wouldn’t see me, I woke up the dog. “Hey.”

“Hamburger?”

“No, not your hamburger. Look. I found her.” I pointed to our target.

“Chair roll?

“Yes, that’s her.”

“He who?”

“That’s not a he,” I corrected, wondering if there was something wrong with the Doberman’s vision. That’s all I needed, a cat with one eye and a dog that was morphing into Mr. Magoo.

“He who?” she insisted.

“I told you...” I trailed off as I spotted the “he” she’d seen.

A familiar face approached Patrick’s wife with a smile and a wave.

“Uh-oh.” I slid down in my seat to make sure he didn’t spot me.

“Wrong what, Maggie?” DeeDee rested her chin so we were cheek-to-cheek, watching the scene in front of us intently.

Patrick’s wife beamed at the “he” as he bent to kiss her cheek.

Instead of straightening, the man patted her shoulder. Jack Stern looked perfectly at ease with Patrick’s wife.

“He’s a reporter,” I whispered to DeeDee.

“Good not?”

“No, it’s not good. Patrick’s Rule Number One is: Don’t get caught. Reporters ask a lot of questions. They dig into things that are none of their business. A reporter can be dangerous.”

“Good not,” DeeDee growled softly.

“He’s not a bad guy,” I hurried to assure her. “At least as far as I know. It’s just that he’s a guy that should be steered clear of if you don’t want to get caught.”

“Like you him?”

“I don’t know him.” That wasn’t one hundred percent true, but for some reason, I didn’t want to tell the dog the whole story. I told myself it was because she’d mess it up terribly when she relayed it to the lizard and the cat.

It’s a bad idea to lie to a dog. They know. “Know him,” she insisted.

“We met once,” I confessed. “In the cafeteria and he didn’t even tell me he’s a reporter. Delveccio did that.”

“Like him,” the dog declared.

I watched Jack talking to Patrick’s wife, flashing a charming grin, and making her laugh.  I didn’t argue with the dog because she was right. If I’d met him under other circumstances, I’d have liked him. What wasn’t to like about a good-looking, personable, intelligent man? But as it was, I was hung up on Patrick and Jack Stern was a reporter.

I sighed heavily.

Sensing my sadness, DeeDee whispered, “Maggie okay?”

“I’m fine.” I rubbed the spot between her eyes to reassure her.

Patrick’s wife maneuvered herself into the car while we watched and Jack stowed the wheelchair in the backseat for her. She and Jack exchanged a few more words and then she backed out of the parking spot.

“Follow?” the dog barked excitedly.

“Shhh!” I didn’t need her attracting Jack’s attention.

“Follow?” she panted quietly.

“That was the plan,” I murmured, even though what I really wanted to do was follow Jack.  Grudgingly, I slipped the car into drive and followed the minivan while watching in my rearview mirror as the reporter turned to go inside the hospital.

We followed Patrick’s wife across town. DeeDee stuck her head out the passenger window and did her best hunting dog impression. “There!” she’d bark if the van disappeared from view for even a moment and then reappeared. Or “Turn!” if she turned at an intersection.

“Right or left?” I asked once when a bakery truck obscured my view of our target.

“Down,” the dog replied.

She’s really not the best co-pilot.

Finally, Patrick’s wife pulled into a parking lot of a strip mall in front of a bagel shop.

I coasted to a stop an aisle away and looked around the area.

“Hamburger!” she woofed enthusiastically.

“Get back in here.” Grabbing the dog’s collar, I yanked hard so her head was inside the car. I rolled up the windows so she couldn’t escape.

I was so busy containing her I almost missed Patrick’s wife getting out of the car.

And standing up.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” I muttered as she began to cross the parking lot, her steps steady.

Glancing in the direction she was walking, I realized she was heading for the motel on the other side of the road.

A crushing sense of disappointment settled in my chest. She was here for a romantic tryst and I was pretty sure I knew who’d be meeting her. Where had Jack Stern parked?

“Chair roll?” DeeDee asked interrupting my thoughts.

“Apparently she doesn’t need it.” I was starting to think that Griswald could be right about the spouse being the poisoner.  If she pretended to need a wheelchair, what other secrets was she hiding?

I got my answer a moment later when another woman emerged from a car and met Patrick’s wife midway through the parking lot. They embraced like old friends.

“Strange place to meet, don’t you think?” I asked.

“Hamburger,” was the dog’s response.

I turned to glare at her. “On the way home. Now stop talking about it. You’re making me hungry and I’ve got a job to do.”

“Kiss!” she barked.

“No,” I told her firmly. “No kisses. No pats. No hamburgers. Work.”

“Kiss,” she insisted.

Ignoring her, I turned back to see what the seemingly able-bodied Mrs. Mulligan was up to.

The dog was right.

Despite poor communication skills, she usually is.

Mrs. Mulligan and her friend were kissing. Not friendly kisses on the cheek either, if you get my drift. More like lovers who’d been reunited and couldn’t get enough of each other.

I blinked and then looked away, feeling as though I were invading their privacy, despite the fact they were making out in a public place. “Wow. I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“Kiss,” the Doberman said.

“Yeah, yeah.” I patted her head. “You’re just right about everything, aren’t you?”

“Try I.” She panted smugly.

I looked back at the two lovers who had their arms wrapped around each other as they strolled across the street toward a motel. “How am I going to tell Patrick about this?”