Read Online The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness by J. B. Lynn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. B. Lynn
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Bored God. Fortune no wheel.”
“Oh crap,” I muttered. “I forgot to leave the TV on for him.”
“Trouble Maggie.”
“You have no idea,” I told her.
She licked my chin sympathetically and then bounded away to sniff something at the far end of the yard.
I tiptoed into the B&B hoping to make it down to the basement before anyone realized I was there.
No such luck.
“Is that you, Margaret?” Aunt Susan called from the dining room.
“Nope,” I yelled back. “I’m a burglar, here to steal your silver.”
Without missing a beat, she said. “It’s all in here.”
Sighing heavily, I made my way to the dining room.
She hadn’t been kidding. The table was laden with every bit of silver or silver-plated junk the B&B held. Some of it was tarnished, almost black. Some of it gleamed brighter than the sun.
All of it fell under the watchful eye of U.S. Marshal Griswald who held a polishing cloth in one hand and a silver napkin ring in the other. “Hi. Susan just went upstairs,” he said cheerfully, as though it was an everyday occurrence to come home and find a lawman shining knick-knack crap. “How was your day?”
I blinked.
“My brother says you make a mean scrambled egg.” He rubbed the polishing cloth against the metal, making sure to get into all the nooks and crannies.
“I grew up in a Bed and Breakfast,” I said slowly. “I can make breakfast and I can make beds….besides that I’m woefully bereft of life skills.”
He chuckled.
“You don’t have to do that,” I told him.
“I don’t mind.”
“Are you paying for your bill through some sort of barter agreement?” I asked. “Because if she makes you scrub the bathrooms, you should request an extra free night or something.”
“I find this to be satisfying.” He admired his handiwork before pulling another tarnished item from the pile. “I can see my progress. There’s a definite beginning and end.” He waved at the collection of gleaming metalware. “That’s not something I usually get in my line of work.”
I nodded like it made sense, but really I was thinking that it was only a matter of time until everything would turn dark and cloudy again.
“Besides,” he continued. “I’d rather sit down here than listen to Loretta and Templeton’s afternoon delight adventures.”
I winced, suddenly feeling sorry for the guy and understanding why the mundane task held so much appeal. “Sorry about that.”
Griswald shook his head. “No need. Someone should be happy.”
The clatter of footsteps hurrying down the stairs announced Susan’s arrival before she breezed into the room with an indignant huff. “The makers of Viagra are responsible for the downfall of modern society.”
Griswald chuckled.
I nodded sympathetically.
“Do you have any idea how long they’ve been at it?” Susan asked.
“I’d rather not,” I muttered. Desperate to change the direction of the conversation I told her, “My friend Armani is coming over around eight.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I couldn’t very well tell Susan that she was trying to figure out whether or not Gypsy was really able to communicate with the spirit world.
“You know we have a full house,” Susan complained. “And that friend of Zeke’s….” She rolled her eyes, signaling her displeasure.
“Armani’s coming to visit, not to stay,” I assured her.
Sinking into a chair, she frowned. “I don’t know how you all expect me to keep up. I’m only one person.”
Unused to hearing her complain, a surge of worry shot through me. “What’s wrong? If you need help, just tell me what you need done and I’ll take care of it for you.”
Her expression softened. “I know you will, Margaret. It’s just that it’s all been so much…”
“I know. I know,” I soothed, realizing that while I might have been able to take my father’s escape from prison, Paul’s attempt to kill me, and my apartment being blown to smithereens in stride, not everyone could. That
“Oh crap,” I muttered. “I forgot to leave the TV on for him.”
“Trouble Maggie.”
“You have no idea,” I told her.
She licked my chin sympathetically and then bounded away to sniff something at the far end of the yard.
I tiptoed into the B&B hoping to make it down to the basement before anyone realized I was there.
No such luck.
“Is that you, Margaret?” Aunt Susan called from the dining room.
“Nope,” I yelled back. “I’m a burglar, here to steal your silver.”
Without missing a beat, she said. “It’s all in here.”
Sighing heavily, I made my way to the dining room.
She hadn’t been kidding. The table was laden with every bit of silver or silver-plated junk the B&B held. Some of it was tarnished, almost black. Some of it gleamed brighter than the sun.
All of it fell under the watchful eye of U.S. Marshal Griswald who held a polishing cloth in one hand and a silver napkin ring in the other. “Hi. Susan just went upstairs,” he said cheerfully, as though it was an everyday occurrence to come home and find a lawman shining knick-knack crap. “How was your day?”
I blinked.
“My brother says you make a mean scrambled egg.” He rubbed the polishing cloth against the metal, making sure to get into all the nooks and crannies.
“I grew up in a Bed and Breakfast,” I said slowly. “I can make breakfast and I can make beds….besides that I’m woefully bereft of life skills.”
He chuckled.
“You don’t have to do that,” I told him.
“I don’t mind.”
“Are you paying for your bill through some sort of barter agreement?” I asked. “Because if she makes you scrub the bathrooms, you should request an extra free night or something.”
“I find this to be satisfying.” He admired his handiwork before pulling another tarnished item from the pile. “I can see my progress. There’s a definite beginning and end.” He waved at the collection of gleaming metalware. “That’s not something I usually get in my line of work.”
I nodded like it made sense, but really I was thinking that it was only a matter of time until everything would turn dark and cloudy again.
“Besides,” he continued. “I’d rather sit down here than listen to Loretta and Templeton’s afternoon delight adventures.”
I winced, suddenly feeling sorry for the guy and understanding why the mundane task held so much appeal. “Sorry about that.”
Griswald shook his head. “No need. Someone should be happy.”
The clatter of footsteps hurrying down the stairs announced Susan’s arrival before she breezed into the room with an indignant huff. “The makers of Viagra are responsible for the downfall of modern society.”
Griswald chuckled.
I nodded sympathetically.
“Do you have any idea how long they’ve been at it?” Susan asked.
“I’d rather not,” I muttered. Desperate to change the direction of the conversation I told her, “My friend Armani is coming over around eight.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I couldn’t very well tell Susan that she was trying to figure out whether or not Gypsy was really able to communicate with the spirit world.
“You know we have a full house,” Susan complained. “And that friend of Zeke’s….” She rolled her eyes, signaling her displeasure.
“Armani’s coming to visit, not to stay,” I assured her.
Sinking into a chair, she frowned. “I don’t know how you all expect me to keep up. I’m only one person.”
Unused to hearing her complain, a surge of worry shot through me. “What’s wrong? If you need help, just tell me what you need done and I’ll take care of it for you.”
Her expression softened. “I know you will, Margaret. It’s just that it’s all been so much…”
“I know. I know,” I soothed, realizing that while I might have been able to take my father’s escape from prison, Paul’s attempt to kill me, and my apartment being blown to smithereens in stride, not everyone could. That
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