The Hitwoman in a Pickle
Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 18
What kind of trouble is Maggie in this time?
The klutzy contract killer must enlist the help of both her psychic friend, Armani, and her ever-growing collection of talking pets, as she desperately searches for not one, but two, missing relatives.
At the same time she’s trying to keep the peace in her crazy family and complete an unwanted assignment from mob boss, Delveccio, which could end with her on ice.
And oh yeah, she’s got a date with a certain hot manny.
Maggie and friends follow a crazy and convoluted path to try to save the day, but will an unexpected enemy get the upper hand?
You just know it’s going to be a bad day when a hand is clamped over your mouth and you’re lifted off your feet from behind.
My name is Maggie Lee and I’m a kickass assassin. (Okay, I might be exaggerating a little with the whole “kickass” thing, but I’m not the kind of gal who does a ragdoll impression when I’m being manhandled, so I did what I do. I fought back. Hard.)
Now, ideally, I should have gone for my attacker’s eyes, nose, throat, or groin, but since I had my back to him, and not much leverage, I kicked at his shins and clawed at the hand covering my mouth. I also made guttural grunting noises, trying to get the attention of my Doberman pinscher, DeeDee, who was at the other end of the yard, examining each blade of grass individually.
It was her fault I was out here, doing battle with the deranged monster behind me. If she hadn’t been so insistent with her “Gotta! Gotta!” I’d have stayed safe in my bed. But no, I’d been outside, squinting against the sunrise, when the madman attacked.
At the sound of my desperate grunts, the dog raised her nose from the ground, looked right at me, lifted a shoulder in what looked like a shrug, and went back to sniffing the earth.
I tried to scream her name, but it only came out as a muffled moan.
“Take it easy, Maggie,” my attacker whispered in my ear. “Are you trying to wake the whole neighborhood?”
In the back of my mind, I knew his voice sounded familiar, but the arm wrapped around my ribcage was depriving me of air, so I just kept on kicking and clawing.
“Ow!” he complained. “That hurts. Will you quit it?”
I shook my head.
“It’s me, Maggie. Ian. I’m going to let you go now. Don’t scream.”
As he lowered me to the ground, I tried to make sense that Ian, the brother I’d only recently met, was the person behind me.
“Don’t scream,” he begged as my feet landed squarely on the ground. Slowly, cautiously, he removed his hand from my mouth.
Whirling around, I glared at him. “What the hell are you doing?” I whisper-screamed.
“I needed to see you.”
“And you decided that giving me a freaking heart attack was the best way to do that?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Despite his impressive muscles, Ian looked down at the ground, thoroughly chastised, as he apologized. “I just didn’t want you to wake up the entire neighborhood.”
“Do you normally pick women up from behind?”
“Of course not.”
“So don’t ever do that to me again.” I punched his shoulder to drive my point home.
He rubbed the spot where I’d hit him. I doubted that I’d actually hurt him, but guessed that, like me, it felt weird to be having our first ever sibling fight.
“I’m really sorry, but I had to see you.”
“You could have called,” I pouted. As DeeDee slowly trotted up to us, I said to her, “And you could have intervened.”
“Said God no,” the dog whined softly, flattening her ears when she realized she was in trouble.
I frowned at her but didn’t ask what she’d meant by that mangled sentence since it wasn’t wise for me to have in-depth conversations with animals when in the company of other human beings.
I turned my attention back to Ian. “So what’s so important that you had to come traumatize me first thing in the morning?”
Ian winced at the description but answered me anyway. “It’s Uncle Thurston…”
I frowned at the mention of my father’s twin brother, the man who’d raised Ian. “What about him?”