The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost (Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman) Page 11

  “Found Ghost DeeDee,” the dog barked from the back seat.

  “Huh?”

  “She says she’s the one who found Ghost,” God translated. “Aren’t you ever going to become fluent in mutt?”

  “Thank you, DeeDee.” I reached back and pat her head as I drove down the street.

  “This isn’t the way back to the B&B,” God announced haughtily.

  “I know. I need to check out Ira Frankel’s address. Delveccio gave it to me.” I drove toward the ritzier end of town.

  “And what are you going to do once you get there?” the lizard demanded to know.

  I clenched my jaw, not liking his tone. “I don’t know.”

  “Brilliant plan.”

  Squeezing the steering wheel and trying to ignore how much his second-guessing bothered me, I told him, “I didn’t claim to have a plan. This trip is just recognizance. I need some info about the man besides he’s a crowbar-wielding-accountant with a penchant for ripping off mobsters.”

  “I think—” God began.

  “I don’t care what you think,” I shouted, my voice bouncing off the car’s windows.

  “Angry Maggie,” DeeDee whined, hiding on the floor of the backseat.

  “I’m not angry,” I said in a tone that confirmed how royally pissed off I really was.

  “Liar,” DeeDee panted softly.

  Called out by a grammatically-challenged dog, my shoulders sagged. “I’m not mad at you,” I amended, properly chastised.

  “God mad?”

  “No,” I assured her. “I’m not mad at God. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Yell you not should.”

  It took me a second to translate that one.

  In the meantime, the lizard drawled, “The beast has a point.”

  I took a deep breath, trying not to lose my temper again. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.”

  “Okay!” The Doberman leapt up and licked the back of my ear to let me know all was forgiven.

  I pulled to a stop and jerked my chin in the direction of the building across the street. “That’s the house where Ira Frankel lives.”

  “Gate. Security system. Won’t be easy to breach,” God remarked.

  “I’ll figure something out.” Before he could get a chance to offer another unasked for opinion, I jumped out of the car. “I’m going to take a walk around and see what I can see.”

  “Walk!” DeeDee yipped excitedly, then looked crestfallen when I left her behind.

  “Don’t get caught!” God yelled, sounding an awful lot like he was spouting one of Patrick’s rules.

  Doing my best to look nonchalant, I strolled around Ira Frankel’s abode. The lizard was right. It was going to be a difficult place to break into. Sticking my hands in my pockets, I stared at the alarm system control box outside the garage.

  “Help you?” a male voice asked.

  Startled, I jumped. Turning, I found that I was face-to-face with the balding accountant Delveccio had shown me in the newspaper picture. In the photograph Ira Frankel had appeared mild-mannered, but this close I could see in his eyes, hints of the murderer he kept disguised.

  “Oh…um…hi,” I stuttered.

  A quick visual sweep revealed the man was holding an ax.

  An ax.

  For a moment the idea that I could be killed by a real, honest to goodness, ax murderer tickled my morbid sense of humor and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Frankel asked, his voice full of swagger, his eyes filled with hate.

  I replied with the first thing that popped into my mind, “Have you seen a little white dog?”

  He blinked.

  “He’s like ten pounds. Maybe this high off the ground,” I bent to indicate a spot a few inches below my knee.

  “There’s no dogs allowed in this neighborhood,” Frankel snarled.

  “Oh I know. I know,” I hurriedly assured him. “It’s just that mine got loose and…”

  “What kind of game are you playing at?” Frankel asked, his gaze narrowed with suspicion.

  Deciding that my bimbo act was the best defense, I stuck with it despite the fact the murderer had changed his grip on the ax handle. “My dog got loose and…”

  From the car, DeeDee barked a loud warning, “Danger!”

  Frankel’s gaze swiveled to her.

  “Man bad,” DeeDee barked.

  “That’s my other dog,” I explained. “You’d think if you had one dog, you could use it to track the other dog, but she has a cold.”

  Frankel looked back at me. This time his expression just seemed annoyed, not ominous. “There’s no little dogs around. Now get that yapping mutt out of here.”

  “Okay, but if you see my dog, could you call the dogcatcher?”

  “Sure, lady. That’s exactly what I’ll do.”

  I didn’t believe him for an instant, but it was as good a time as any to make myself scarce. “Quiet!” I yelled, hurrying back to the car. “Quiet.”

  Sliding behind the steering wheel, I saw that Frankel was still watching me, but he’d rested the ax blade on the ground.

  “Good girl,” I murmured under my breath. “That was great timing.”

  “It was my idea,” God informed me huffily, displeased he wasn’t getting the credit he deserved.

  I watched Frankel in my rearview mirror as I drove away. Now my target had seen me and probably gotten my license plate number. “That was a bad idea, Maggie,” I muttered.

  “I tried to tell you,” God said.

  Thankfully, he didn’t say anymore as I drove across town, silently berating myself for my monumental screw-up.

  “Hungry,” DeeDee reminded me.

  “I know.” We rolled to a stop at a red light. I considered locking the doors since this wasn’t the nicest part of town, but I didn’t want to alarm the animals. “We just have to stop by Patrick’s for a minute and then I’ll take you home.”

  “Templeton!” she barked excitedly.

  “Not Templeton, Patrick,” I corrected.

  “Templeton,” she insisted. “There Templeton.”

  “She’s right,” God said. “Over there, by the Pawn Shop.”

  I looked over just in time to see Templeton slinking through the pawn shop’s door. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Probably pawning something,” God said. “Have you ever seen those shows? People try to pawn the most interesting things, some of them are utter garbage, but others are pieces of history.”

  The car behind me honked. Realizing the light had turned green, I pulled forward, but immediately coasted to the side of the road, my tires hugging the curb.

  “Doing what?” DeeDee asked.

  “I’m wondering if he’s pawning a piece of my family history.” I adjusted my rearview mirror so that I could watch the shop’s entrance.

  “You’re just going to wait for him to come out?” God asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Hungry,” DeeDee complained.

  Reaching into the glove compartment of the car, I rummaged around blindly, straining to keep an eye on the mirror at the same time. Finally my fingers found what I was looking for. I pulled out a foil wrapped package, tore it open, and tossed a piece of its contents into the back seat.

  “You can’t feed her that,” God’s outrage practically shook the car.

  “She’s hungry.”

  “Hungry,” the dog agreed.

  I tossed her another piece.

  “You’re feeding her potato chips. What if they make her sick? What if she vomits in the car?” God complained.

  “What if I smother you with the greasy, salty package once she finishes the chips?” I asked, tossing the dog another.

  The lizard fell silent.

  The only sounds in the car as I watched that doorway intently were the occasional crinkle of the bag and chomping of DeeDee every time I tossed her a chip. When the bag was down to crumbs, I twisted in my seat to empty them
onto the floor of the back seat so the dog could get at them.

  “I’ve never seen anything so disgusting,” God groused.

  “That’s how I feel when you eat crickets,” I told him.

  As I turned back around, Templeton emerged from the shop. He’d gone in seemingly empty-handed and it appeared that was the way he left to. I watched him disappear from view before I reached for my door handle.

  “What are you doing?” God asked, appalled.

  “I’m going to see what he was doing in there.”

  “You can’t leave us here. Not in this neighborhood. The car could be stolen with us in it.”

  “Then I’d never have to listen to you again,” I snapped.

  “Scary,” DeeDee said, siding with God.

  “You’ll be fine, sweetie. I’ll lock the car and if anyone comes near just smile at them.”

  “Another brilliant plan,” God muttered. “You do remember the last time you lost her was because you left her alone, don’t you?”

  “But she won’t be alone. She’ll have you,” I replied with faux-sweetness.

  “Fabulous. I’ve been relegated to the beast’s babysitter.”

  “Five minutes,” I promised them, hopping out of the car. “I’ll be back in five minutes.” Locking the car, I hurried toward the pawn shop.

  I hadn’t gone two steps when my cell phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, didn’t recognize the number, and almost turned it off, but then I realized it might be Patrick calling from one of his burner phones. I answered, eager to share the good news that I’d found DeeDee.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Ms. Lee.

  My happiness evaporated as I recognized Ms. Whitehat’s voice. If anything, her tone was icier than usual and a sense of foreboding made me feel a bit sick to my stomach. I stopped where I stood on the street.

  “Okay?” DeeDee barked from inside the car.

  Turning, I saw that both she and God had their faces pressed against the windows and were watching me intently. Waving them off, I turned away so I could give the conversation my full attention.

  “I just finished speaking with Candace and I’m not happy.”

  “But I found Ghost.”

  “Yes, but you were charged with finding him and delivering him.”

  “He’s locked up in the pound. I asked about getting him out, but there’s a hold on him for four days.”

  “We don’t have four days. Time is of the essence,” Ms. Whitehat said. “I thought I’d made that clear.”

  Something didn’t sit right with me, so I asked, “What makes him so valuable?” There was a long silence and I wondered if the call had been dropped. Glancing at my screen, I determined that didn’t seem to be the case. “Hello?”

  “You were hired to do a job, Ms. Lee, not ask questions.”

  Annoyed that I was being given the run around, I asked, “Hired? Does that mean I’m being compensated?”

  “You’re being compensated with the freedom of yourself and Mr. Mulligan. If that’s not enough for you and you’d like to renegotiate, you’re welcome to try,” she replied coolly.

  A shiver snaked down my spine as I remembered the power she held.

  “I don’t know what you want me to do. She’s locked up in the pound. Should I have attacked the animal control officer and dognapped Ghost?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why are you upset with me? I found the dog. I can’t legally claim the dog. There’s nothing else I can do.” I may have raised my voice a bit, but I was upset that she was threatening me.

  “You can deliver the dog to me tomorrow,” Ms. Whitehat.

  “How?”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

  With that, she hung up.

  I considered throwing my phone down the nearest sewer grate.

  “Okay?” DeeDee barked again.

  Without turning to look at the dog and lizard, I gave them a thumbs-up, squared my shoulders, and continued toward the pawn shop. Normally, going into a pawn shop and dealing with a fat, greasy, unsavory type would have made me nervous, but I had more pressing matters on my mind.

  When I walked into the shop, there was no one there. At least I don’t think there was. It was kind of hard to tell because the place was chock full of assorted crap, everything from kid’s games to old Playboy magazines to counters filled with jewelry.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  But at that instant, a dozen cuckoo clocks started chiming so my voice was drowned out.

  “I’m in hell,” I muttered, moving farther into the shop.

  When the clock noises were done, I called out again. “Hello? Anybody here?”

  “Just a sec,” a male voice called from the back of the shop. “Feel free to look around.”

  Since I wasn’t there to shop, I walked up to one of the counters and waited, trying not to get freaked out by the multiple stuffed and mounted deer heads whose glossy black eyes seemed to stare at me. Instead, I looked down at the newspaper spread out on the counter, but it held no interest for me since it was open to the Sports section.

  “What can I do you for?” a man asked as he made his way toward me from the back of the shop.

  He wasn’t fat, or greasy, or unsavory... He was somehow familiar, but I couldn’t tell why.

  “I—” I started to say.

  “Maggie?” The man’s face broke into a wide, gap-toothed grin.

  It was the smile that gave him away. “Rudy?”

  Skirting around the counter, he gave me a quick, tight hug, before stepping back to get a good look at me. “How are you? You look great.”

  “Thanks,” I said, suddenly feeling like a shy teenager. I’d nursed a massive crush on Rudy back in high school. “So do you.” And he did. He was in great shape, still had all his curly brown hair, and the years had been kind to him. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

  “Work here. Own the place.”

  “Really?” I’d always imagined him living a more interesting life.

  He shrugged. “Family business. What about you? What do you do now?”

  I could have told him that I was a glorified dog catcher and a paid assassin, but instead I went with, “I work at an insurance company. Boring stuff.”

  “Hey, maybe you could get me a better rate. Every time I have a break-in, my premium goes up.”

  “Sorry. I work in automobile claims.”

  “Oh well, can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  An awkward silence stretched between us.

  “I saw in the paper about your sister and the car accident a while back,” he said finally. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  The mention of Theresa caught me off guard. A painful lump rose in my throat and I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded.

  “Her husband was a regular customer,” Rudy revealed.

  “He was?” I asked, though I wasn’t surprised. I’d never liked Dirk the Jerk. There’d always been something suspicious about him.

  “But that’s ancient history,” Rudy said smoothly. “What brings you to my humble business? You need to pawn something? Need a unique gift for someone?”

  I shook my head. “There was an older guy in here a couple of minutes ago.”

  Rudy’s grin faded. “I’m not in the habit of discussing my customers’ business with other people. Folks who come in here are kind of looking for some anonymity if you know what I mean.”

  I nodded my understanding. “The thing is, Templeton’s engaged to my Aunt Loretta and I’m worried about her... about what he might be into.”

  “Oh.” Rudy moved around the counter and busied himself with folding up the newspaper.

  “So I thought maybe you could tell me why he was here,” I said hopefully.

  Rudy considered the request for a long moment. “He was pawning something, but honestly, I know he’ll be back for it.”

  Imagining that Templeton had pawned some of Loretta’s jewelry, I frowned. “What makes you say th
at?”

  “He’s a regular. He always comes back to collect what he’s pawned. Like clockwork the guy is.”

  That confused me. “What did he pawn?”

  “I’ll go get it,” Rudy said. “Look around for a minute and I’ll be back.”

  Flashing me a quick grin, he disappeared into the back.

  This time, I looked around the shop. A faded box with bright pink plastic tiles caught my eye.

  “No way,” I murmured, moving closer to see if it was what I thought it was.

  It was. Fashion Plates.

  Marlene and Darlene had owned a set of these when they were little kids. I could still remember how they’d giggle as they played with the set for hours. The memory made me smile.

  I picked up the box to examine the content.

  “You like that?” Rudy asked.

  “My sisters had these when we were kids,” I replied. “It brings back nice memories.”

  “Are you sure? That’s not too old for them to have played with?”

  I nodded. “I’m sure.” I remembered distinctly since it was the year Dad had won big at a horse race or poker game or something and to “celebrate” had brought all of the kids to a garage sale where we were allowed to get anything we wanted. Theresa had gotten a baby doll, I’d gotten a Nancy Drew mystery, and the twins had gotten a box of colored pencils and the toy I held.

  “It’s for sale if you want it,” Rudy offered.

  “How much?

  He glanced at the box. “Fifty bucks.”

  I stared at him incredulously. “For a game that’s forty years old?”

  “It’s got all its parts. That’s important.”

  “Nothing in my life has all its parts, but I still don’t see how it’s fifty bucks.”

  “That’s a great price,” he said defensively.

  I put the box down.

  “Really,” he insisted. “Look on eBay. Those things, in mint condition like that, can go for a hundred.”

  “Then why are you selling it for fifty?”

  “I call it the ‘old friends’ discount. Want it?”

  I shook my head. “What I want is to know why Templeton was here.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Maggie.” He motioned for me to return to the case. Putting down a thick piece of cloth, he spilled out the contents of a black velvet bag onto it.