The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 8) (12 page)

Grudgingly, I pulled seven tiles from the bag and laid them against the sun-faded wood of the tabletop. D, D, G, I, L, O,W.

We both stared at them a long time, but no message popped out at us.

“Well that was helpful,” I said finally.

Undeterred, Armani gathered the tiles and tossed them back in the bag. “Tell me more about this guy. Is he tall?”

“Yes.”

“Dark?”

“Yup.”

“Handsome?” I imagined Jack’s face and nodded grudgingly.

“Dangerous?”

I frowned, thinking about the kind of havoc a reporter could wreak in my life. “Probably.”

“And what does he do again?”

“He hasn’t said.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Maybe you need a little danger in your life, chiquita. Shakes things up.”

I swallowed the laughter that bubbled up in my throat. I had way too much danger in my life. What I could use was some peace. Someone who would be straight with me.  But I didn’t see that happening any time soon.

I smelled our boss, Harry, sneak up on us before I heard him. The scent of pepperoni wafted to my nose before his words reached my ears.

“Ladies.” He stood at the end of the table, nervously fiddling with the new gold band around his finger.

“Hey, Harry,” Armani cooed. “Congratulations. How’s married life treating you? How was the wedding night? All you expected it to be?”

Embarrassed, a pink tinge creeping up his neck, Harry looked away.

I shot Armani a warning look. Just because she’d fixed Harry and his new wife up with some behind-the-scenes help from me, didn’t mean she could ask him such personal questions. Taking pity on the boss I sometimes fanticized about killing, I asked, “What’s up?”

His gaze skittered over to meet mine. “When you’re done here, can you come to my office?”

“I’m supposed to be on the phones,” I told him.

“I’ll take care of it.” Usually when he made such requests and promises, they had a lecherous air to them, but this time I only sensed quiet sincerity.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I have five more minutes here though.”

“Of course.” He backed away. “I apologize for interrupting.”

Armani and I watched as he hurried back inside the building.

“What was that about?” she asked, clearly intrigued.

“Guess I’ll find out soon enough.” I concentrated on finishing my leftover chili.

“I want you to meet him,” Armani declared.

“I already said I would.”

“Not Harry.”

“Jack?”

“Who’s Jack?”

Exasperated, I asked, “Who do you want me to meet?”

“Ike.”

“Okay.”

She eyed me suspiciously, surprised that I’d agreed immediately. “But I don’t want you to give him the third degree.”

“I won’t. Susan’s serving ice cream sundaes tonight. Why don’t you bring him to the B&B?”

Armani grinned. “Can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

After lunch, I made my way to Harry’s office, slightly worried about what he wanted to talk to me about. I hoped it wasn’t a job performance review. As much I hated working at Insuring the Future, I needed to keep my job, especially since I’d soon have to add Katie to my insurance. Plus, it’s a perfect cover. Office drone by day, deadly assassin at night.

I knocked twice on his door.

“Come in.”

Entering his office, I was surprised to see he already had a photograph from his wedding on display.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, like I had a choice when a supervisor made a direct request. “Have a seat.”

I stared at his Vegas wedding chapel picture. He looked deliriously happy in it.

I offered him a smile. “I didn’t get to congratulate you.”

“Thank you.”

“How was Vegas?”

“Crazy. Busy. Have you ever been?”

I shook my head.

“It’s definitely different. That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I’m not following.”

“I’ve looked at the productivity numbers. Things were definitely different here yesterday.”

I nodded slowly, remembering how most people hadn’t done much work.

“Would you say it was busy?”

“For me,” I said carefully.

He glanced down at a printout on his desk. “I’d say so.  You took a lot of calls.” He looked back up me. “Most people did not.”

Not wanting to get my co-workers in trouble, I kept my mouth shut, letting the call log speak for itself.

He considered me carefully. I could practically see the gears turning in his head. I braced myself for whatever was coming next.

Still, he surprised me by saying, “I wanted to thank you.”

I blinked.

“I appreciate the effort you made yesterday and I’d like to repay you.”

“I just did my job.”

He shook his head. “No. You didn’t take advantage of the situation. You didn’t disrespect me by failing to perform your duties, unlike a lot of other people.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I remained silent.

“I’d like to give you two vacation days.”

My mouth may have dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“I’d like to give you two vacation days. You did more than two times the work of most of the people here. I can’t authorize additional funds, but I can assign the vacation days for you.” He smiled at me, not a smirk, but an actual smile. “Take them, Maggie. You used up all you had when your sister died. You’ll need them when your niece comes home. Just say yes.”

“And what will they cost me?” I asked suspiciously, certain that such a generous offer came with strings attached.

“Accept my gratitude and my apology that I’ve been a less-than-stellar supervisor in the past.” He pointed at the wedding photo. “She makes me want to be a better man and that begins with thanking those who deserve my appreciation.”

“Thank you, Harry,” I murmured to my former enemy. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a while.”

When I got to the hospital after work, Katie wasn’t in her room. Neither was Dominic. I hoped that boded well.

I considered going to see whether or not Patrick had been discharged, but I really didn’t want to face him.

As usual, I headed for the cafeteria.

The girl Jack had bribed for my whereabouts was behind the counter. For once, since I wasn’t dining with Delveccio, I actually read the menu.

“Can I get French toast?” I asked.

“Sure,” she giggled. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

I took a seat with my back against the wall, so I could see anyone who entered the room. I chose the table where I’d almost died when someone who worked for Delveccio’s competition tried to take me out. Some people might be freaked out by remembering the event, but it filled me with a sense of pride. I’d beaten the little jerk at his own game. I’d saved my father. I’d saved myself.

God said Patrick had done a lot for me, and he had, but I was also a lot more resourceful than I’d previously believed.

“Penny for your thoughts?” a familiar voice asked.

I looked up to find Detective Brian Griswald watching me. He carried a tray laden with two sandwiches and a bag of chips.

“I almost died here,” I told him. No doubt he’d heard the story from his uncle about hijinks to save my father.

“And you revisit the spot?”

I nodded. “It makes me feel empowered.”

“Mind if I join you, Wonder Woman?”

I grinned and pointed to the chair opposite me.

He took it, but sat at an odd angle so that no one could sneak up behind him. “Want some?” He offered me a sandwich.

“No thanks. I’m waiting for my French toast.” I half-expected him to be impressed by my off-menu item.

Instead he said, “That’s one of my favorite things about this place. You can order anything at any time and they make it up for you.”

“Really?” I’d been under the impression Jack Stern had used his considerable charms on the impressionable worker. I wondered how else the reporter had deceived me.

“Yup. It’s one of the reasons cops eat here.”

“What’s the other reason?”

He glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot before lowering his voice. “No one spits in the food.”

I stared at him, trying to decide whether he was pulling my leg.

“Really. You go to a place where you can’t see them preparing it and you’ve got no idea what they’re doing behind closed doors. It’s just one of those things cops have to worry about.”

“That’s awful.”

He shrugged. “It’s the way of the world.”

“French toast!” was called.

Before I could move, Brian jumped up to get it for me.

“I haven’t paid yet,” I protested.

“I’ve had some quality meals at the B&B,” he told me. “Let me get this.”

A few moments later, he returned. He presented the tray with a flourish. “M’lady.”

I chuckled. “Thank you, kind sir.”

It was then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack Stern standing in the doorway watching us. I raised a hand to wave him over, but he was already gone.

Brian and I ate in companionable silence for a few minutes until I asked, “So you came here just for something to eat?”

He took his time answering. “I was visiting someone.”

His tone was so bland that I knew he was hiding something, but I didn’t press the matter.

“I came to see Katie, but she’s off at one therapy or another.”

“Must be tough, working a full-time job and still spending time with her.”

“It is, but she’s worth it.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” Brian insisted. “You’re a good person. You look out for those you care about. Even that really wacky friend of yours.”

“Armani?”

He rolled his eyes.

I thought about how I was worried that the tiles she’d pulled at the cemetery were a warning about Ike Medd, not the spirits dabbling in matchmaking.

“She does cause me some concern,” I admitted. I’d find out soon what an understatement that was.

Of course Armani wasn’t my only concern.

A curious reporter was another.

Heading back toward Katie’s room, I wasn’t too surprised to have Jack Stern fall into step beside me.

“Hello, Maggie.”

“Hi.”

“It’s nice to run into you again.”

I glanced up at him as we walked. Once again he wore his black leather jacket and jeans. The man was consistent with his look. “Is that the way we’re going to play this?”

I stopped at the elevator bank and pushed the button.

He turned to face me. “Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you come over and say hello in the cafeteria?”

“You looked”—he paused, searching for the right words—“otherwise occupied.”

I snorted my disbelief as I stepped aside to let people disembark from the elevator.

He waited to speak again until we were both inside the metal box. “Why were you talking to him?”

“Why so curious?” I countered.

He put his hands on his hips and stared at me crossly, waiting, as though his silence would compel me to answer him.

I shrugged and turned my attention to watching the floor numbers display.

Arriving at my destination, I stepped out of the elevator without saying another word to him. I wasn’t sure if he’d followed me off, until I felt a hand on my elbow.

“Are you in trouble?” Jack asked.

Shaking off his feather-light grip, I moved to stand against the wall to let a gaggle of gossiping nurses pass. I frowned up at him. “Why would you ask that?”

“You were talking to a police detective.”

I tilted my head to the side and considered him for a long moment. “And how do you know that?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

He glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one was within earshot. Bending slightly, he closed the gap between us, encroaching on my personal space. Standing so close, I could smell his cologne, something deep, dark and spicy. He whispered, “I’m a reporter.”

Deciding to have some fun with him, I raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh yeah? For one of those conspiracy theory websites or something?”

He stepped back, insulted. Frown lines formed between his eyes. “No. I’m a legitimate newsman.”

“Really?” I did my best to sound impressed. “Are you freelance or with a station?”

“Not a television reporter,” he corrected with mild annoyance. “I write for the
Sentinel
.  I cover the crime beat.”

I shrugged and pretended to be disappointed. “Oh. Print.”

“Oh?” He sounded insulted.

“I thought maybe you were on TV,” I told him, batting my eyelashes. “That would have been impressive.”

The lines between his eyes deepened, but then a wolfish smile banished them.  He leaned in close again. “You think I’m good looking enough for TV?”

I swallowed hard as my whole body tingled with awareness. I thought he was handsome enough to be a leading man on the silver screen, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.  “It’s amazing what make-up artists and lighting can do for a person.”

Throwing back his head, he laughed, the sound echoing off the tiles.  “You could do serious damage to an insecure man’s ego.”

“I take it you’re not insecure?”

“Not when I know someone is messing with me.” He winked, which, disgustingly, made him even more attractive.

Pushing myself away from the wall, I moved in the direction of Katie’s room.

He fell into step beside me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Which was?”

“Are you in trouble with Detective Griswald?”

The honest answer was “always,” but that wasn’t what I said. “He’s sort of a friend of the family.”

“Hmmmph.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?’

“You seemed awfully chummy.”

“Like I said,” I began.

“A friend of the family,” he finished, making it clear that he didn’t believe me.

“Speaking of family,” I said, “I’m about to visit mine.” I stopped and extended my hand.

He slid his palm against mine, his handshake firm. “Tell me your phone number.”

“Why?”

“So I can call you and arrange a real date.” He didn’t let go of my hand. “Otherwise you’re soon going to accuse me of stalking you.”