The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub (3 page)

Picking her up went more smoothly. While her class was in the cafeteria for lunch, I’d go to the office and pick up her backpack.

“Here you go,” the secretary said handing over the bag.

“Thank you.” I glanced around looking for the mother who’d sent the invitation to help with the Valentine’s Day party. “Is Megan here?”

“I believe she’s in the cafeteria.”

“I’ll look for her there.” I took my time strolling through the corridors, trying to decide what I’d say to the Volunteer of the Year. 

“Maggie!” a voice called excitedly. “There you are.”

I turned and smiled politely at the dark-haired woman dressed in her usual uniform of khakis and polo shirt. “I was on my way to see you, Megan.”

She grinned. “I can see you got my invite. You’ve got some glitter on your chin.”

I swiped my palm across it self-consciously.

“What do you say? Will you help me out? Tommy’s mom normally does, but she’s about to burst.” She held her hands out in front of her stomach to mimic the pregnant woman.

“I’d love to but--”

“Wonderful!”

“But,” I continued firmly. “I just have so much going on that I don’t think--”

“Nonsense. We’re all busy people, but we find the time to help out when our children need us.”

I bit my tongue knowing it wouldn’t do to antagonize the class mother, but her superior tone made me want to point out that I didn’t have that luxury. I wanted to tell her that I was working my butt off trying to keep my aunt’s shop afloat while she recovered from her injury
and that I spent a great deal of time ferrying my niece from one medical appointment to the next.  And I sure as hell didn’t say that in my few spare moments I was either searching for my missing sister or figuring out how to kill someone.

Apparently I was silent for too long, because Megan leaned closer and said incredulously, “Are you telling me you’re really not going to help?”

“I’m telling you that I don’t have the time or resources of Tommy’s mother,” I said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know how much help I can be.”

Megan waved off my concerns. “A warm body is better than no body, right?”

Since I’m a paid assassin, I tend to disagree, but again, I held my tongue.

“Still, I understand that not everyone has the opportunity like I do to be there for my children,” Megan said.

"I'll do it," I found myself blurting out against my better judgment.

Something that looked a lot like disappointment flickered across Megan's face. I got the distinct impression that while she’d been doing her best to guilt me into taking the role of party thrower, she hadn't counted on me saying yes.

"Just tell me what I have to do," I said with false cheer.

"Oh it's not much," she replied. "Just enough to make the kids happy."

"Speaking of kids, I have to get mine, so if you'll excuse me." I started moving toward the cafeteria again.

"I'll be in touch, Maggie," Megan yelled after me. It sounded more like a threat than a promise.

Still, I didn't give it much thought as soon as I picked up Katie. Buckling her into her car seat, I asked, "How do you feel about going to see Dominic?"

She beamed. "Really?"

I nodded.

"Can we get ice cream?"

I tapped the side of her mouth with my finger. "It looks like you already had ice cream."

A wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows as she licked away the brown evidence. "I didn't have ice cream."

"It looks like you had chocolate ice cream."

She shook her head, the wrinkle appearing again, giving her away.

“What
did
you have?” I asked, her evasive tactics reminding me a lot of her grandfather.

"A chocolate chip cookie."

Despite the tightening of my chest, I forced myself to stay calm, knowing she was watching my reaction closely.

"Who gave you that?" I asked, making a mental note to remind everyone at the B&B that the doctors had all said that proper nutrition would play a role in my niece’s recovery.

"Sindhu."

"What?"

"Sindhu," she explained. "My new friend. We sat at lunch together."

Relieved to hear that my niece had made a desperately needed friend, I scratched out my mental note about nutrition, and decided that if I ever met Sindhu’s parents, I’d make a point to thank them for raising a kind child. "She gave you a chocolate chip cookie?"

Katie nodded. "She had two of them, so she gave me one."

"And what did you give her in return?"

My niece cocked her head to the side looked at me with round eyes. "What do you mean?"

"It's nice," I explained patiently, "that when somebody does something nice for you, you do something nice for them back."

Katie considered that for a long moment. "Tomorrow can I bring an extra orange for Sindhu?"

I smiled, feeling that for once I wasn't failing at this parenting thing. "Of course you can."

Katie napped in the car as we drove across town to the hospital. She was still sleepy when I picked her up out of the car seat. I strode across the parking lot, marveling at how much stronger I got over the last few months carrying her around.

We headed straight for Dominic's room. I hoped that Delveccio had given his steroid-fueled bodyguard Vinny a heads-up that we were expected. While the hired muscle was never particularly pleasant to deal with, things always were worse when he didn't know we were coming.

My worries about Vinny were unfounded since he wasn't even there. In his place, sitting in a chair outside the door of Dominic's room, was the mobster's other bodyguard. I didn't know the man's name, but I had dealt with him a few times and he'd appeared to be reasonable.

He greeted me with a half smile, and was even polite enough to stand up and open the door for me since my arms were full with Katie.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"My pleasure, ma'am." As mobsters' bodyguards go, he was my favorite.

Dominic and his grandfather were playing checkers when we walked in. Both waved a greeting.

"Can I play?" Katie asked, suddenly wide awake.

"Still have to wait your turn," I told her. "When they're done with their game, you can see if Dominic wants to play with you."

Katie made a pouty face as I put her down in an empty chair.

"We're almost done," the mobster assured her with a wink.

"It won't kill her to learn to be patient," I said sternly.

Delveccio glanced at me as though surprised that anyone would dare to correct him, and then shrugged at the little girl. "She's the boss."

Katie giggled at that.

They finished their game while Katie and I watched. I was impressed with how close Delveccio kept the match without letting Dominic win.

Instead of being upset or frustrated by the loss, the little boy was eager to play again. He pointed at Katie, indicating she was his next chosen opponent.

Delveccio climbed out of his chair and held it steady while Katie wobbled over to it and plunked herself down.

“Let’s leave the kids to play,” the mobster said, catching my eye.

I nodded and followed him from the room.

“Gino,” he said to the bodyguard, “go inside and keep an eye on them.”

“Sure, boss.” With a respectful nod to me, he ducked inside the room.

I hesitated, unsure of whether leaving Katie in his care was the best idea.

“He’s a good guy,” Delveccio assured me. “He’s got two little ones of his own. They’ll be perfectly safe.”

I bit my lower lip, still unconvinced.

“Besides,” the mob boss said, “you can keep an eye on her the whole time.” He pulled out his cell phone, pushed the screen a couple of times and handed it to me.

One look at the screen showed Katie and Dominic playing their game.

“You’ve got cameras in there?”

The mobster shrugged. “You can never be too careful. Besides,” he cleared his throat gruffly, “I watch him sleep sometimes.”

Keeping one eye on the phone, I started toward the cafeteria and he fell into step beside me.

“I do that sometimes too,” I confessed. “I’ll go into her room and watch her, just making sure she’s breathing. I guess that means I’m paranoid.”

“I think it means you’re a good mom.”
 

“That’s debatable,” I muttered thinking about how Megan had inferred I was letting Katie down.

After we’d gotten our bowls of chocolate pudding and spoons, Delveccio and I sat down at the most private table in the back.

He picked up his bowl and held it in front of his face, waiting for me to do the same with mine.

I lifted it, unsure of what was going on.

“To making new, sweet memories,” he declared, clinking, more like clunking, the plastic bowl against mine.

“Here, here,” I agreed.

Once he’d started to eat, I asked, “Have you come up with any extra work for me?”

I needed it because Aunt Susan was having trouble paying for my mother’s stay in the mental health facility she resided in.

“Answer something for me first,” Delveccio said, pointing at me with his plastic spoon. “And don’t lie to me. If you lie to me, I’ll know it.”

I nodded, but then looked down at my pudding, worried about what he’d ask.

“Did you hire the Cupid Killer to take out Belgard?”

I looked up at him, surprised by the question.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, if you did,” he continued. “Smart move, really, hiring a third party so that suspicion didn’t fall on you.”

“I didn’t,” I confessed quietly. “I had nothing to do with his death.”

Delveccio considered that information thoughtfully.

I didn’t tell him that I had witnessed the other kill by the man known as the Cupid Killer. I’d seen him kill a restaurant owner, but he hadn’t seen me. At least that’s what I hoped.

“Disappointing,” Delveccio said finally.

“Disappointing?”

“I’d hoped you’d been the one to bring him town. Knowing you’re not…” He trailed off as though lost in thought. “It’ll make your job more challenging.”

“Job?” I perked up hopefully.

Delveccio nodded. “It’s simple. I need you to whack the Cupid Killer.”

Chapter Four

I stared down at my chocolate pudding trying to keep my expression neutral.

The last thing I wanted to do was go after the Cupid Killer.

For one thing, the last time I’d been given the assignment to kill another assassin, Gary the Gun, the situation had involved a naked man in a kitchen, Doomsday, and dragging my murder-mentor-now-lover Patrick Mulligan out of a burning house.