The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels (17 page)

I’d actually been very close to
putting out
for him the night we’d met, until God had reminded me that I had a gun stuck under my mattress. I didn’t tell Paul that, instead I said, “So you’re in the habit of paying for sex?”

Even in the darkness I could see his body stiffen as my zinger met its mark.

“Smart mouth on you,” he muttered. “I never liked that. We’ll see how much of a wise ass you are when I’m done with you. Get inside.”

Even though his threat sent a chill skittering down my spine, I held my ground. “Where’s Marlene?”

He chuckled. A sound so evil the hairs on the back of neck stood at attention. “She’s inside. Where are the jewels?”

“In here,” I lifted one of Theresa’s old Hello Kitty pocketbooks that I’d used to transport the jewel cases.

“Get inside,” a woman’s voice ordered as something hard was jammed into my ribcage.

Turning slightly, I found Blanche, Leslie’s “sponsor,” standing beside me, holding a gun.

“Did anyone follow her?” Kowalski asked.

“No. I tailed her from the house to here. No one followed her,” Blanche replied. She gave me a dismissive once over. “For the record, you run like a wounded duck.”

I nodded. It was a fair assessment. I do tend to waddle when I run.

“Pat her down,” Kowalski ordered. “Make sure she isn’t wired and doesn’t have a phone.”

“You try anything funny,” Blanche warned, “and I’ll kill you and Kowalski will do your sister. Understand?”

I nodded.

She gave me a quick and efficient pat-down that would have made an airport TSA employee proud. I winced as she yanked the scissors out of my pocket.

“Seriously? This is your pathetic attempt to defend yourself?” She shoved me hard, knocking me off balance.

Kowalski stepped aside as I stumbled into Artie’s. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the even dimmer light, most of the illumination was provided by the floor to ceiling aquarium on the far wall.

I looked around, surprised that it looked pretty much the same as the last time I’d been inside it.

Cheesy.

Red-and-white checked tablecloths covered the tables. Commercial fishing nets were draped from the beams of the ceiling. Twelve feet worth of stuffed blue marlin, the personal catch of Artie’s owner hung on the wall. Sand buckets held the condiments on every table.

It was cheesy and it smelled like rotting fish.

I fought the urge to retch, regretting my earlier BLT indulgence.

“Give me that,” Blanche ordered, reaching for the Hello Kitty bag.

I clutched it to my chest, “I want to see my sister. I want to know she’s okay.”

“You’re in no position to bargain,” Blanche sneered.

Ignoring her I looked at Paul. “Which one of you is in charge?”

“Bring her out,” Kowalski shouted, unable to ignore my challenge.

I held my breath as footsteps shuffled in from another room.

“Maggie?” Marlene called. Her voice was hoarse and her face was red like she’d been crying for a long time.

I turned to give her a reassuring smile, but the muscles in my face refused to work when I saw who stood behind her, holding her arm. Six feet, two hundred pounds of violence topped by one ugly, familiar face.

“You,” I gasped.

He grinned. “Surprised to see me, Maggie?”

I nodded. My legs felt rubbery as cold dread pooled at the base of my spine.

“You two know each other?” Marlene asked, horrified.

“What are you doing here, Frank?” I asked, having regained a measure of composure. Frank Velicky was the abusive ex-boyfriend of my best friend Alice. We’d had a number of run-ins. One had involved me breaking a vase over his head when he’d tried to drag Alice out of my apartment. The last time I’d seen him, he’d attacked Alice and Aunt Susan in the backyard of the B&B. Doomsday and an old friend of mine, Zeke, had come to the rescue then.

“You don’t read the papers, do you?” Frank mocked. “If you did, you woulda known I escaped from prison with your father.”

I suddenly had a terrible sinking feeling.

“He’s a feisty one,” Frank continued. “Like father, like daughter, I guess. We drag his ass out of prison and how does he repay us? By running away the first chance he got, but we got the upper-hand didn’t we, old man?”

“They killed him in the kitchen,” Marlene cried. “He stabbed him and let him die.”

I knew then that I couldn’t save her.

I’d deluded myself into thinking I could take out Paul on my own, but now with Blanche standing behind me and Frank holding onto Marlene, I knew we were doomed.

I’d failed to help Darlene at the carnival and now I couldn’t protect her twin.

“I’m sorry, Marlene,” I whispered. Remembering God’s earlier suggestion, I added, “I love you.”

Blanche ripped the bag from my hands and tore the zipper open. The empty jewel cases fell to the floor with a clatter.

“Shit!” Blanche swore. “They’re empty.”

“You double-crossing, bitch!” Kowalski crossed the room and swung at me.

I tried to duck, but Blanche shoved me into the blow. His fist bounced off my shoulder.

Marlene screamed.

“You have one chance,” Kowalski threatened. “One chance to tell me where they are, or Velicky is going to break every bone in her body.”

To illustrate the point, Frank twisted Marlene’s wrist. She whimpered pitifully.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked rubbing my shoulder. “What’s so important about the discs that you’d throw away your life? You’re a cop who’s the subject of a manhunt. Why?”

“I hated being a cop. Taking orders all the time. Cleaning up other people’s messes. I wanted more.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Blanche interjected testily.

“Shut up,” he growled. “I want her to understand. An opportunity came my way. A chance to make some real money, and I took it.”

“By breaking the law?” I asked.

“At first it was just looking the other way. Then I took on the occasional job. Then I got into the lucrative part of the business. I kill people for money, Maggie,” he said expecting me to be horrified.

I bit my tongue to keep from blurting out, “Me too.” Instead I looked him in the eye and asked, “Who the hell would pay to have me killed?”

He shook his head. “It’s not about you. It’s about the discs, where are they?”

I glared at him defiantly, letting him think I knew.

“You’ve got until I get to one,” Kowalski said. “Ten.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Blanche back away from me, taking herself out of the line of fire.

I closed my eyes, thinking hard.
The treasure is in Marlene
.

“Nine.” Kowalski counted down.

The treasure is in Marlene.
Dad had been convinced I could figure it out. That’s why he’d told me to find her and ask her.

“Eight.”

I imagined Dad’s silly accent.

“Seven,” Kowalski warned.

I opened my eyes and looked around the smelly, cheesy restaurant with the floor-to-ceiling aquarium that still bubbled. I watched a small school of bright yellow fish zip by.

“Six.” Kowalski glared at me.

“Why are we here?” I asked.

“Five.” A vein pulsed between his eyes.

“Whose idea was it to meet here?” I asked.

“Four.”

“It was Dad’s,” Marlene called out. “He made them bring me here.”

“Three,” Kowalski raised his gun, holding it level to my head.

I imagined Dad’s voice, “The treasure is in the Marlene.”

“Two.”

Hearing what sounded like dribbling water, I looked down to see Piss peeing on Kowalski’s foot.

“Swim, Sugar,” she meowed.

Seeing the cat, Kowalski kicked at her.

Taking advantage of his distraction, I lunged for his gun. I heard a gunshot ring out and then a percussive force filled the room.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the aquarium disintegrate and a giant wall of water whooshed into the dining room as Kowalski turned the gun back toward me.

The rushing water swept our feet out from under us both as he squeezed the trigger. The shot whizzed past my ear as I fell to the floor. Knowing that I was no physical match for him, I crawled away from Kowalski. My hand pressed down on something metal as I scrambled across the floor. The scissors.

Beams of light cut through the murky darkness. Shouts of “Drop your weapons!” “Don’t move!” and “U.S. Marshal” filled the air almost drowning out Marlene screaming “Maggie!”

Gunfire erupted.

Oblivious of the real possibility I could be shot, I struggled toward the sound of my sister’s voice, the water weighing me down.

Spotting Frank Velicky dragging Marlene toward the back exit, I threw myself at them. Catching him off guard, I managed to knock all of us to the ground. I grabbed Marlene and pulled her tightly to me, thinking there might have been something to Armani’s tug-hug theory after all.

Marlene clung to me, sobbing hysterically, as I tried to drag her out of Velicky’s reach.

He grabbed her ankle and yanked hard and suddenly we were locked in a macabre game of tug-of-war.

“Gut the thug, Sugar,” Piss yowled from her dry perch on top of a table.

I didn’t think the shark’s tooth would do the job, but the scissors might. In one smooth motion, I plunged them into Velicky’s hand.

His scream of agony was suddenly the loudest sound in the room. As he raised his gun at me with his uninjured hand, two shots rang out, catching him in the chest. Falling backward, his blood mixed with the salt water covering the floor.

I turned to see Marshal Griswald lowering his weapon.

Marlene screamed yet again.

Wondering how she wasn’t totally hoarse yet, I moved to comfort her, but suddenly an arm wrapped around my throat, yanking me off my feet.

“Get out,” Paul Kowalski demanded, turning so that my body was a shield, draped over his.

Across the room, Griswald trained his weapon on us. Griswald looked determined. I realized that Patrick was there too, but he had his hands full subduing Blanche who was doing her best to stomp on his instep with her stiletto. Patrick glared at Kowalski, pure hatred in his gaze.

Kowalski tightened his grip, his forearm crushing my windpipe. “Get out, or I kill her,” he told the marshal and the detective.

Looking up I realized we were standing beneath the stuffed marlin. The irony almost killed me.

I clutched at his arm that was cutting off my air supply.

“Use the tooth, Sugar,” Piss mewled softly.

Keeping one hand on Kowalski’s arm, I used the other to find my “lucky” necklace. I grabbed the hardened point between my fingers. I knew it wasn’t going to be enough, but it was all I had.

I looked at Patrick, trying to signal him that I was going to make my move.

His expression had morphed to pure anguish as he’d realized he couldn’t help me.

“On three, Sugar,” Piss said.“One.”

I tensed, preparing myself.

“Two,” the cat counted.

I concentrated all my energy.

“Three!”

I drove the pointy tooth into the tender flesh of Kowalski’s arm. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference if at that moment, Piss hadn’t launched herself at him.

Hissing and spitting, she clawed at his face.

Surprised by her attack, he let go of me.

“Drop!” Patrick shouted.

And I did. Hard. My knees absorbed most of the impact.

Kowalski threw the cat across the room. She hit the wall with a sickening thud and then scrambled to hold onto the tacky fishing nets strewn across the wall.

At the same time, Marshal Griswald fired.

Two more shots rang out and Kowalski’s body fell back, dead, before he hit the water.

Marlene screamed again.

“Shut up!” I shouted, unable to take her hysteria anymore.

Surprised, she blinked at me, but she mercifully closed her mouth.

I staggered to my feet, needing to help Piss, who was mewling pitifully. I limped across the room and gingerly lifted her from her precarious perch. “Shhhh,” I whispered. “I’m taking you home.”

Nestling herself in my arms, she purred contentedly.

I looked at the two men in the dining room. Griswald was barking orders into his cell phone. Having managed to cuff Blanche, Patrick held up Marlene. She clung to him like he was a life preserver and she was drowning in an ocean, not wading through a flooded restaurant.

While his arms were around her, Patrick’s worried green gaze was on me.

I offered him a weak smile, trying to tell him I was all right, even though I wasn’t so sure.

“Marlene,” I called out. “Where’s Dad?”

“Dad!” she wailed, sagging against Patrick. “He’s in the kitchen.”

I slogged through the water toward the kitchen, Griswald closing in behind me.

“I have to take him in, Miss Lee,” he reminded me.

I glanced over my shoulder. “He’s dead.”

A look of shock flitted across his face, but he quickly replaced it with a harder, more professional expression. “Are you sure?”

“She,” I said, jerking my chin in Marlene’s direction, “says he is.”

We entered the kitchen with me clutching the cat and Griswald brandishing his weapon.

Santa Claus lay in a pool of blood on the floor near the stove. Of course, he wasn’t really Santa Claus, he was my father, a round man, with a white beard, ruddy complexion, and a proclivity for crime.

I swallowed hard when I saw him. He wasn’t my first dead body. But he was the first murder victim I’d seen that I’d loved.

“Shit,” Griswald growled, stalking away.

Piss jumped from my arms and went to investigate the body. Curious cats and all.

I leaned against a steel prep table, trying hard not to cry. My father was not the kind of person one should shed tears over. He’d made a mess of his life, driven my mom to the nuthouse (if you were to believe my aunts) and repeatedly let down his children as he chased after one harebrained scheme after another. His loss didn’t deserve to be mourned and yet I stood there feeling like my heart was breaking into a million pieces.

“Um, Sugar?” Piss wound between my legs.

I brushed away a few errant tears. “Yeah?”

“He’s still breathing,” she whispered.

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