The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels (7 page)

He froze, his gaze ricocheting to my eyes. “Mags.” Loaded with pain, it was half-plea, half-lament.

I looked away, covering my injured cheek with my palm. “It’s nothing.”

I thought he’d argue, but instead he took a step back, giving me space.

I missed the warmth his body put out.

“We’re going to have to talk about it,” he said gently.

I nodded. Not liking it, but knowing it was necessary. I sank back onto the plastic chair.

His cell phone buzzed, offering me a moment’s reprieve.

“I’ve got to take this.” Patrick held up his phone. “You’ll be okay sitting here?”

I nodded.

“If you need
anything
, I’ll be right outside.” Shooting me one last worried look, he hurried outdoors with his phone plastered to his ear.

The cat jumped up onto the seat beside me.

“Thank you for your help finding Doctor Felton,” I said.

“You can really understand little ol’ me?” she meowed.

“I can.”

“And you can understand the dog?”

“Yes.”

“And the uppity lizard?”

I bit back a smile. “Him too.”

The cat considered this for a long moment. “Do the other humans know?”

I shook my head.

“Not even your man?”

“I don’t have a man.”

“Honey, are you trying to tell me that
he
,” she turned in the direction of the door Patrick had exited, “isn’t your man?”

“He’s not.” I didn’t have the strength to explain that he had a wife.

She twitched her tail. I noticed it was missing its tip. “Either you’re lying to me or you’re lying to yourself. The way he looks at you…” She trailed off. “Not that it’s any of my business.” She turned away as though she were suddenly disinterested in the conversation.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Who’s asking?” she asked, suddenly all attitude.

“I’m Maggie.”

“Do you know pompous jerk’s name?”

I grinned. “If you mean the lizard, his name is Godzilla, but he prefers God for short. And the dog is Doomsday, but she prefers to go by DeeDee. So now you know who all of us are, why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Why do you care what my name is?”

I squinted at her. “Because we’re having a conversation. I like to know who I’m talking to.”

“I’m not telling you my name. It’s not like you’re ever going to see me again.” She leapt off the seat and headed back toward the exam room.

I glared at her retreating back. I had enough on my mind without worrying about a moody, one-eyed cat. Like my dog dying…DeeDee could be dying in the next room. The thought brought tears to my eyes.

As though she heard my thoughts, the cat glanced over her shoulder at me. “I’ll check on her.”

I bent over in my chair, hugging my knees, as the pain of DeeDee’s possible death stole my breath. I’m not a religious person, but I squeezed my eyes shut and said a fervent prayer that she’d be okay.

“Mags?”

I opened my eyes to find Patrick kneeling on the ground in front of me. Concern shadowed his gaze.

“Are you up to telling me what happened?”

“Did they catch him?”

Something flickered in his green gaze. He leaned back on his heels, searching my face.

“Catch who?”

“Paul,” I whispered. I looked away, feeling like an idiot about not listening to the warnings of God or Patrick when it came to my bad choice in dates.

“He’s the one who hurt DeeDee?”

I nodded, choking down the painful lump that rose in my throat as I remembered her pained yelp as he’d stabbed her.

“What happened to you?” Patrick asked quietly, as though speaking louder might spook me.

“He had a gun and he kept asking me to tell him where they were.” My voice shook as I remembered the madness gleaming in his eyes as he’d leveled the gun at me.

“Where what were?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t say. He just kept asking and pointing the gun and he was going to shoot me and I was going to die and it smelled like furniture polish. I hate furniture polish. It—“

“You need to take a breath,” he interrupted with authority. “Take a second to focus.”

I focused on breathing. In and out. In and out.

Still crouched in front of me, he said quietly, “Look at me, Mags.”

Realizing I’d been looking everywhere in the room but at him, I dragged my gaze to meet his. He regarded me steadily.

“I want to take your hand,” he said softly. “But I don’t want to scare you. It’s your choice.” Slowly he extended his hand, palm up.

I eyed it for a long moment. I knew full well that if I refused the invitation, he’d accept it. He’d always allowed me to call the shots in our relationship.

Slowly, carefully, I slid my hand into his.

He curled his lightly around mine, offering support without trapping me. “Tell me what happened.”

“I told you. He had a gun. He wanted something.”

“He hurt you?”

I shook my head.

“What happened to your shirt, Mags?”

I snatched my hand back as I remembered how helpless I’d felt with Paul on top of me, ripping my shirt off.

Instead of trying to reclaim my hand, Patrick sank onto the floor, sitting cross-legged below me. “Take your time,” he urged slowly.

I looked away, not liking the pity in his gaze. “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me,” I muttered.

“Something crappy happened to you. Should I feel happy?” he countered.

“I just don’t want pity. I hate pity.”

“Why?” he asked softly.

“Because it means I’m some kind of victim.”

“Were you?”

I shook my head.

“Really?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I admitted grudgingly.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?” he asked gently. “You think I’ll think less of you?”

Surprised, I glanced at him.

“I won’t,” he promised. “No matter what you tell me, I won’t.”

And I believed him.

“You’re going to have to tell somebody. Me, or Marshal Griswald, or another cop. You’re going to have to tell your version of things to someone.”

“What do you mean
my version
?” I asked defensively.

Patrick raised his hands in surrender. “Griswald’s already taken the statements of your aunt’s fiancé and the social worker.”

“Oh.” I thought about that for a second. “So you already know what happened.”

“I know what they say happened. I want to hear it from you.”

I looked away, unable to say the words aloud.

“Kowalski attacked you?” Patrick prompted gently.

I nodded, wringing my hands nervously.

“Did he rape you?” His voice was no more than a strained whisper.

I shook my head.

“You’re sure? Because if he did, there are things you should do…including go to the hospital.”

“He tried,” I admitted. “He probably would have succeeded, but Templeton clocked him with a croquet mallet.”

I half-smiled at the memory. It was the second time Templeton had unexpectedly come to my rescue. The first had been at the rehearsal dinner before the wedding of my friend Alice and her fiancé Lamont.

“Guess you were lucky he was there,” Patrick said quietly.

I nodded.

“I wish I’d have been there,” Patrick admitted grudgingly. “If I catch Kowalski, he’s a dead man for laying a hand on you.”

If anyone else had said such a thing, I’d have thought they were blowing hot air, but I knew Patrick meant every word he said.

“Can I ask you something?” I started. “If you weren’t there to save me from Kowalski why’d you show up?”

Patrick stretched out his legs against the ugly yellow linoleum. “We were looking for your father.”

“My father?”

Patrick eyed me thoughtfully. “You don’t know.”

“Know what?”

He sat a little straighter and leaned closer. “Your father escaped from prison.”

It took me a second to figure out what he was talking about.

In that moment the cat returned. She stood behind Patrick. “Doc seems to think your girl is doing well,” she meowed.

“Good,” I said.

“Good?” Patrick asked. “You think it’s good he broke out of prison? Half the force is out hunting him and his buddies down.”

I shot a dirty look at the cat, who was licking her paw, her eyes mocking me since she knew I’d said ‘good’ to her and not the man who was ranting about my escapee dad.

“Do you have any idea how complicated your life is at the moment?”

Considering I was talking to him
and
a cat, I thought I had a pretty good idea, but I didn’t tell him that, I just shrugged.

“The marshals are going to be all over you. They take escaped convicts very seriously.”

“I didn’t help him escape,” I told him indignantly. “If you remember, I was with you when you got the call.”

“I know that.” He spiked his fingers through his hair, a sure sign he was agitated. “I tried to get out of going to your aunt’s place, but I’ve worked with Griswald before, so there was no way I could refuse….and then we got there and we heard a gunshot…” He trailed off, turning his head to look away as though the memory caused him physical pain. “And now you’ve got Kowalski thrown into the mix, looking for who knows what….there’s no telling what he’ll do next.”

My heart stuttered. “W-what do you mean?”

Patrick turned back to look at me. “I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

“What did you mean you don’t know what he’ll do next?”

Patrick shrugged. “He’s a loose cannon. He was willing to kill you in front of witnesses to get what he wants.”

I jumped out of my seat, startling both Patrick and the cat. They both jumped backwards.

“I have to go.” Panic was cutting off my air supply, so the words came out as a squeak.

“Easy, Mags,” Patrick soothed, slowly getting to his feet. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“What about Katie?” I asked.

He tilted his head to the side. “I’m sure she’s fine. The doctors and nurses are taking good care of her.”

Rushing toward the exit I asked, “What if Paul thinks she has whatever he’s looking for?”

“Crap,” Patrick muttered. “Let me give the vet my card. I’ll meet you in the truck.”

As I headed outside, he moved toward the exam room.

“Are you coming back for them?” the cat asked, jumping in my path. “That’s what she’s going to ask, when she wakes up. Or being a dog, she’ll probably say something like,
‘Maggie back me for?’
bless her heart.”

I skidded to a stop, so I didn’t accidentally step on her. “Of course I’ll be back. I just have to go and make sure my niece is safe.”

The cat narrowed her gaze to tight slits. “Isn’t that the way it always is? Humans trump animals?”

“Look,” I told the cat. “She’s in good hands. I’ll be back for her.”

“Of course you will,” Patrick said, taking my elbow and propelling me outside, effectively ending my conversation with the suspicious feline. “We’ll go to the hospital, get a guard posted on her room, and then we’ll come back for DeeDee.”

He helped me into the pick-up and then burned rubber as we raced out of the parking lot.

“She’s at Apple Blossom Estates,” I told him. “That’s over—“

“I know where she is.”

I blinked. “How?”

“I’ve made it my business to know everything I can about you. I know where your niece lives, the due date of your best friend Alice, and where Jewel is.”

“Her name’s not Jewel,” I corrected automatically. He was talking about my sister Marlene, who’d run away from home after her twin, Darlene, had been murdered, and who hadn’t been heard from since…until I’d seen her outside Katie’s room a few weeks earlier.

“What I don’t know,” Patrick said, ignoring the fact I’d corrected him, “is what Kowalski wants. What he’s willing to kill for.”

“I don’t either.”

“You’re sure?” He sounded suspicious.

“I told you, I have no idea. But the way you’re talking, I think you do know, or at least have an idea.”

He sighed heavily, taking a turn so swiftly the wheels squealed in protest. “I think it’s more than a coincidence that the day your father breaks out of prison, Kowalski…” He glanced over at my bruised face. He winced. “Kowalski hurts you.”

I thought about that for a second, remembering how just a few hours earlier in the barn, though it felt like a decades-old memory, I’d confided I’d been suspicious about running into Kowalski at the prison.

“You think this is my dad’s fault?” I asked slowly.

“I think he’s probably involved,” Patrick admitted heavily. “If you can figure out how, maybe we can stop them both.”

Sinking back in my seat, I tried to come up with a connection for the rest of the ride to Katie’s facility.

Slamming to a stop in the No Parking Fire Zone, we leapt from the truck. We raced through the quiet halls of the medical institution, Patrick following three steps behind. Rushing past the nurses’ station, I saw Vinnie, Delveccio’s nephew and hired muscle, flirting with one of the women by flexing his bicep. That meant that Delveccio was in the vicinity, but I didn’t care. I kept heading for Katie’s room, intent on keeping her safe from Paul. A shiver of foreboding skittered between my shoulders when I realized her door was closed. It was never closed.

I was so focused on the door that I didn’t notice the man in the suit standing beside it, until he caught my arm as I tried to barrel past him.

“Ow!”

His grip hurt, as he practically yanked me off my feet.

“Let me go!” I kicked him in the shin.

I’m not sure which of us it caused more pain. Kicking someone while wearing sneakers was not the brightest idea I’ve had. We both wobbled, reaching to rub our respective injuries.

“Let her go.”

The man in the suit and I both froze. Slowly, we turned to find Patrick glowering at us.

“Let her go.”

The angry, uncompromising command would have scared me even if I hadn’t known he’s a secret hired killer.

It must have spooked the man in the suit too, because his grip on my arm loosened. He didn’t let go though. “US Marshal,” he said, using his free hand to reach into his suit jacket.