Maggie Lee (Book 11): The Hitwoman Hires a Manny (14 page)

BOOK: Maggie Lee (Book 11): The Hitwoman Hires a Manny
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I was grabbing for the nearest bag when it was ripped from my hands.

 

“Let me.” Browley tossed the bag to Angel, who quickly used it to put out more of the fire.

 

Griswald joined Angel at the fire’s edge. Together the four of us managed to extinguish the flames closest to the house, but the rest of the ring still burned.

 

Aunt Susan ran over with the garden hose, but as Angel had predicted, it was less effective. Still, we managed to keep it at bay until the fire department arrived.

 

With the right equipment, they were able to put the rest of the fire out. As they did, and I was no longer distracted by the crackling heat, I tried to identify the charred three-foot tall statue that stood in the center of the circle.

 

I looked past the smoldering embers and the rising smoke, trying to focus.

 

“Is that a mouse?” Susan asked, looking at the figure.

 

I shook my head. It wasn’t a mouse.

 

It was a rat.

 

Which had to mean Templeton was in trouble.
 

Chapter Ten

 

 

I turned to Griswald. “We should go get him.”

 

“He’s too hot to handle, dear,” Susan said.

 

Spinning around, I gaped at her. “What?”

 

She pointed to the rat statue. “He’s probably quite hot.”

 

Relieved she wasn’t suddenly lusting over her sister’s fiancé, I focused on Griswald again.

 

He smiled gently. “Wash your face and change your clothes first.”

 

“But--” I protested.

 

He shook his head. “If you show up looking like that you could scare your Aunt Loretta.”

 

“He’s right.” Susan patted my arm. “Freshen up.”

 

Realizing I couldn’t win the argument, I whirled to head back inside the B&B.

 

“But bring the animals inside first,” my aunt ordered.

 

Looking around, I saw DeeDee at the far corner of the lot.

 

I whistled and she came running, startling a few firemen in the process.

 

“Inside,” I told her. “And where’s Piss?”

 

“Right here, Sugar,” she meowed, revealing that she was waiting beside me.

 

I scooped her up. While she squirmed as though she didn’t like the attention, she also rubbed the top of her head against my chin.

 

“And give them extra treats,” Susan suggested softly, her eyes filling with tears at the devastation of the front lawn. “If they hadn’t warned us…” She trailed off and looked at her beloved B&B.

 

“I thought you didn’t want the dog here,” I teased gently.

 

She offered me a watery smile. “Give them some of the chicken that’s on the table.”

 

I nodded. Carrying the cat, I headed back inside.

 

The dog was already in the basement, regaling the lizard with a grammatically incorrect version of the events that had transpired, when carrying some bird and a feline, I descended the stairs.

 

“Hungry,” DeeDee whined, the moment she realized I was carrying food.

 

I plopped the cat onto the couch before putting some of the chicken into her bowl and giving the rest to the dog to devour.

 

“I’ve got to go get Templeton,” I announced to no one in particular.

 

“Take me,” God decreed, his booming voice echoing off the glass of his enclosure.

 

“Okay.” I stepped toward the terrarium.

 

He flicked his tail like he was holding up a stop sign. “You’re filthy.”

 

Rolling my eyes, I changed direction and headed for the bathroom. Once there I saw why everyone wanted me to clean up. My face and shirt were both streaked with a lot of soil. I shook my head, remembering for a moment about how my dad had always teased me when I was a kid about being a dirt magnet. Staring at my reflection, I had to admit he was right.

 

After I’d made myself presentable, I tucked the lizard into my bra and went in search of my favorite marshal.

 

Griswald, Susan, and Angel were all sitting on the front porch watching Browley, a uniformed cop, and another man wearing a windbreaker jacket examine the area the fire had scorched.

 

“Who’s that?” I asked.

 

“Arson investigator,” Griswald replied.

 

“Like it’s a question whether or not the fire was deliberate?” I mocked.

 

“Don’t be flippant,” Susan scolded.

 

Griswald got to his feet. “Ready?”

 

I nodded.

 

“I’m leaving Browley here to keep an eye on things,” Griswald told me.

 

I frowned. I didn’t much like the idea of the man who’d frightened DeeDee being left alone.

 

“I’ll make sure nothing happens to the dog,” Angel said quietly as though he’d read my thoughts.

 

I shot him a grateful smile, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off the three men examining the burnt circle.

 

“My car or yours?” I asked as Griswald reached my side.

 

“Yours.”

 

Nodding, I led him to my car. I’d forgotten that the passenger seat was covered with paperwork from the hospital. Gathering it up so that he’d have a place to sit, I dumped it haphazardly into the backseat, which was already occupied by a large cardboard box that contained a car seat for Katie, that I had yet to install.

 

Griswald buckled his seat belt. “I hope there wasn’t anything important in there.”

 

I shrugged as I started the car. “There probably is, but it won’t be the first time I lost track of something important.”

 

“Feeling overwhelmed?” the agent asked sympathetically.

 

I glanced at him sideways as I backed out of the driveway. “Are you asking because I yelled at one of your agents?”

 

He chuckled. “No. I’ve seen you do crazier things.”
 

For a moment I thought of the time my ex-boyfriend Paul had threatened to kill me in a seafood restaurant and how the man sitting in my car had helped to save my life. Feeling a tad bit guilty, I apologized. “I didn’t mean to be flippant.”

 

He waved off my apology. “I was asking if you’re feeling overwhelmed at the prospect of bringing Katie home.”

 

“A little,” I admitted softly.

 

He nodded, but didn’t offer the usual, ‘you’ll do great’ platitudes that I’d gotten accustomed to people shoring me up with.

 

When the silence stretched another beat, I confessed, “A lot. I’m feeling a lot overwhelmed.”

 

“Understandable,” he murmured.

 

“It scares the shit out of me,” I felt compelled to elaborate, suddenly getting the distinct impression that Marshal Griswald was probably an excellent interrogator.

 

“And well it should,” he agreed calmly.

 

“Especially with Rivgali out,” I blurted.

 

He turned his head sharply so that he could stare at me. “How do you know about that?”

 

“A little birdie told me.”

 

“Mulligan?”

 

I shook my head, trying not to give away that it startled me that he knew, or at least had guessed, that I had a relationship with Patrick. “A reporter told me.”

 

Griswald turned back away, staring out the windshield. “So you know.”

 

“I don’t know much,” I admitted, hoping that I could reverse his less-is-more questioning technique on him.

 

“Rivgali is a dangerous man,” Griswald warned.

 

“And yet he’s been released from prison.”

 

“That’s because no one could make a case against him for the majority of his crimes.”  Griswald’s voice, strained by barely masked anger, was difficult to hear over the hum of the engine and the roar of tires against the road.

 

I got the unsettling feeling that whatever this was with Rivgali was personal for the usually unflappable marshal. I worried about what that could mean for Templeton.

 

“It’ll only be a matter of time until he slips up,” Griswald continued.

 

For a second I thought he’d meant Templeton, but then I realized he was going on about the ex-con.

 

My cursory research of Rivgali hadn’t revealed a connection to Griswald or the marshals, so I decided to play dumb. “Might be helpful to know something more than the fact that he’s a career criminal with a penchant for arson.”

 

“That’s not enough?”

 

I squeezed the steering wheel. “It doesn’t explain why you and Brownie are looking for him.”

 

“Browley,” he chuckled.

 

“It’s obvious you don’t trust him,” I countered.

 

He considered that for a moment before answering slowly, “It’s not that I don’t
trust
him…I just don’t
like
him.”

 

“Why not?”

 

A long pause stretched between us and I didn’t think he’d answer.

 

“Because he’s here to make sure I don’t kill Rivgali.”

 

I completely forgot to watch the road while driving as I turned to look at the marshal. “Kill him?”

 

He pointed forward, indicating that I should return my attention there.

 

I did what he wanted, barely keeping the car from sliding off the road.

 

“Arnold Rivgali killed a potential witness I knew,” Griswald said quietly. “Because of that, a lot of bad men walked free to wreak a lot more havoc. If I’d gotten there an hour earlier…” He trailed off, his self-recrimination hanging in the air.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It was a long time ago.”

 

“Time blurs the pain,” I muttered. “It doesn’t erase it.”

 

“No,” Griswald agreed. “No, it doesn’t.”

 


Are
you going to kill him?” I asked curiously. Lawrence Griswald had never struck me as the rule-breaking type. I’d assumed that was one of the things he had in common with Aunt Susan.

 

Instead of answering my question,  he pledged, “I won’t let him hurt you.”

 

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I admitted.

 

“Is that why you’ve got a Delveccio at the house?”

 

I glanced at him for a brief moment before returning my attention to the road, wondering if he’d somehow recognized Angel as a member of the mob family, or if Aunt Susan or the man himself had used his last name as part of an introduction. “He’s going to be Katie’s manny.”

 

I winced internally at how lame that explanation sounded even though it was the truth.

 

“Manny?” Griswald sounded confused. “Is that like a butler?”

 

“No, like a nanny…except with an ‘m’.”

 

He turned an incredulous gaze on me. “Are you pulling my leg?”

 

I shook my head. “Don’t look at me. It was your girlfriend’s idea to hire him.”

 

“Susan?”

 

“Do you have
another
girlfriend?”

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