The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub (11 page)

“Good enough.”

Patrick pinched the bridge of his nose as though my revelation had brought on a sudden headache.

“Does this mean I don’t get any olives?” I asked.

He thrust the jar at me, spilling some of the brine, which unfortunately splashed on the lizard.

“Sensitive skin!” God screamed as though a vat of acid had been poured on him.

“Sorry,” I murmured, carefully placing the olives on the dash before scooping the lizard out of the cup holder. “It’s okay.”

“It most certainly is not okay,” God ranted.

“I said I was sorry,” I snapped. Then, realizing Patrick was watching me arguing with a squeaking lizard, I added, “He’s Katie’s pet. If anything happened to him…”

“I understand,” the redhead said. “How’s she doing?”

I placed the lizard on the dashboard, grabbed the jar, and popped an olive into my mouth. “Better. All the therapy seems to be helping and she’s going to school part time.”

“Does that mean your manny will be moving out soon?” There was no mistaking the jealously in his tone when he referenced Angel.

I shrugged. “Don’t know. Aunt Susan is the one who hired him and now that Aunt Loretta’s hurt and will need PT, there have been some rumblings about keeping him around.”

“How convenient for him,” Patrick drawled sarcastically.

“It’s convenient for
us
,” I replied. “It’s a big help having him around.”

Patrick’s voice dropped dangerously low. “Is that why you like having him around?”

I swallowed hard. “He helps a lot. It’s nice having someone who does that.”

The redhead scowled. “Unlike me?”

“He’s a lot less complicated.”

“He’s Delveccio’s nephew. How uncomplicated could he possibly be? Besides, I heard Marshal Griswald is moving in. Won’t he be enough help?”

“Is he?” I was surprised by the revelation.

While Aunt Loretta had moved men in and out of the B&B like they were interchangeable, Aunt Susan had hardly dated, much less had a man live at the house.

“If you were paying attention to the subject of your stakeout, you’d see that there’s someone in the front yard,” God said snootily.

Patrick ignored the squeaking, but I looked up and saw he was right. A blonde woman, about thirty, was getting the mail. She looked cute and pure and like she belonged in one of those Christian dating ads.

“Look!” I pointed her out to Patrick.

He stared at the woman for a long moment.

“She looks harmless enough,” I murmured. “Do you think she was paying off Belgard too?”

Patrick didn’t respond. He was studying her with an intensity that sent a shiver of consternation racing down my spine.

“Patrick?”

He didn’t respond until after she’d gone back in the house with her mail. When he finally did speak, his voice was flat. “Stay away from her.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Because you said so?” I practically shrieked indignantly. I wasn’t a five year old. He couldn’t speak to me like that.

“Stay away from her,” he repeated. “If you know what’s good for you.” With that ominous threat hanging in the air, he climbed out of the car, slammed the door, and stalked away.

“That went well,” the lizard mocked. “Tell me again what’s so appealing about that guy.”

I stared at the yellow house. I had to figure out who she was. Consequences be damned.

Chapter Twelve

But first I had to go visit Aunt Loretta in the hospital so that she could give me last minute instructions for The Corset’s Valentine’s Day sale.

I’d avoided visiting her much, because, quite frankly, she’d turned into a demanding bitch while cooped up.

Thankfully she was on her best behavior when I got to her room since she was busy flirting with the guy fiddling with her television.

“Maggie, darling,” she cooed when I stepped in. “How nice to see you.”

I dutifully hugged her and almost choked to death on the cloud of sweet perfume that enveloped her. Pulling back, I registered that she was in full makeup, complete with her fake eyelashes and blood-red lipstick, despite having her leg elevated.

“This is my niece. Margaret,” she told the TV repairman. “She’s available.”

She made it sound like she was pimping me out.

“No I’m not,” I snapped.

“Nonsense,” Loretta shook her head. “Don’t be shy, Maggie.”

Seeing the interest in the TV guy’s gaze, I said firmly, “I’m really not.”

“Is there someone I don’t know about?” she asked.

Thinking about how Patrick had delivered his pompous, ‘
Because I said so
’ edict, I shook my head.

“I came here to talk about The Corset, not me,” I said, attempting to deflect the discussion away from my love life.

“Templeton says you’re doing an excellent job with the shop,” Loretta said.

“It’s been awfully quiet,” I admitted.

“That’s because they don’t know you.”

I pulled a chair up to the side of her bed. “Who doesn’t know me?”

“My most devoted clientele. I provide a special service to them.”

I felt a little sick to my stomach. Sure, I knew that Aunt Loretta was a bit man crazy, but was she insinuating that she provided sexual favors to her customers.

“Are you done with the TV?” I asked the guy who had given up all pretense of working, and was blatantly eavesdropping.

“Didn’t want to interrupt your conversation,” he lied badly, walking over and using Loretta’s remote control to turn the television on. “Good as new.”

“Thank you.” Loretta batted her false eyelashes at him. They wiggled like deranged spiders.

As soon as he left the room, I jumped up, shut the door, grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, and put my hands on my hips. “What kind of special services do you provide?”

“Haven’t you noticed that a lot of my stock is in larger sizes?”

I hadn’t. Then again, I try pretty hard not to look at it too closely. Otherwise I imagine it on the customers and that’s just a tad bit too intimate for me.

“You think larger women aren’t coming in because of me?” I asked. I wrinkled my nose, not liking her suggestion that I was making them uncomfortable.

Loretta shook her head. “Of course not, dear. I’m saying the
men
don’t come in because of you.”

I’m pretty sure I tilted my head to the side just like DeeDee does when she’s confused.

“I do a booming business with drag queens, and the occasional cross dresser, and transsexuals here and there.”

I blinked, unsure of what to say. How could I have not noticed Loretta’s clientele over the years?

“I’ve a bit of a niche business,” Loretta claimed proudly.

“But not exclusively niche?” I asked worriedly, imagining that every customer I’d ever seen or helped had been male and that had escaped my attention.

“Of course not. But it’s important that you cater to my loyal customers.”

Since I’m not by nature one who caters, I asked, “And how do I do that?”

“Loosen up. Don’t be such an old stick in the mud.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” I said, more to appease her than because I had a clue what she was talking about. I always smiled at customers, although admittedly, it was sometimes more of a grimace. But I couldn’t help it. I just don’t have the fortitude for retail.

“Susan was complaining that Archie is on the loose again.”

I winced, knowing that once my aunt started complaining about my father, there was no escaping her frustration. “Sorry,” I murmured. No doubt listening to her sister’s diatribe wasn’t what Loretta needed while she recuperated.

“Pffft. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Actually, I do. It’s sort of my fault he’s running around since I’d asked Griswald to arrange a meeting with him.”

“I like your father, I really do. I think it’s romantic how smitten he still is with Mary.” A wistful smile softened her features as she mentioned her sister. “But trust me on this, the man has never had a problem getting into trouble all on his own. This was just bad timing and it’s typical of how he doesn’t care who pays the price. You don’t need to go blaming yourself for his bad decisions.”

I nodded slowly, hearing the truth in her words.

“In fact, I forbid it,” she declared. “I forbid you to blame yourself.”

I couldn’t help but smile, “Yes, ma’am.”

She reached out and grabbed my hand. “You’re a good girl, Maggie. The best of the bunch. You always were.”

I blinked at her, trying to keep the sudden tears welling in my eyes from spilling down my face. That was one of the nicest things she’d ever said to me. Part of me wondered what kind of painkillers she was on.

“But you’ve always taken on too much,” she continued. “You’re like Susan like that. Always assuming you have to take on the bulk of the burden. Acting like everyone else is just an incompetent fool.” Resentment built up in her voice as she spoke, and I got the impression she was no longer talking about me, but about her own issues with her sister.

Then, as though she’d realized what she revealed, she sucked in a breath, flashed me a smile, and concluded. “You two are alike in that respect. That’s why you’ve always butted heads.”

I fought the urge to defend Susan. I didn’t say that I knew she’d done the best she could. Sure her methods were often flawed, but she was trying. I knew it, because I did the same things.

“Don’t be so damned independent,” Loretta offered as a postscript. “Bonds are strengthened when burdens are shared.”

Chapter Thirteen

I took Loretta’s advice to heart, partially because God told me to, and called Cam as soon as I was in my car. I cranked up the heat as the phone dialed.

“Nap time,” God declared from his warm cocoon between my breasts.

“Maggie!” Cam boomed, practically shattering my eardrum as she answered the phone.

“I need your help,” I blurted out.

“Anything. Everything.”

“Megan said the treats for the kids have to be gluten, nut, dairy and sugar-free, but Anwen said dairy and sugar are okay. Do you know which of them is right?”

“The second. Who did you say she was again?”

“Anwen.”

“Oh yeah, the one who sounds like she narrates my Inner Peace meditation CD.”

I made a mental note to buy an Inner Peace CD since I’d found Anwen’s presence soothing. “So what can I give the kids?”

“Gluten and nut-free chocolate. Flourless chocolate cake. Chocolate ice cream. Don’t you worry. If you’ll pick up the gluten-free ice cream, I’ll take care of everything else.”