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Authors: Leslie Langtry

'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy (22 page)

BOOK: 'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy
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I called Liv, but she was neck deep into some serious computer hacking, so I let her go with the promise we would get together for lunch the next day. That left the old standby—breaking and entering.
I guess it wasn’t really breaking and entering when you already had a key to your brother’s condo. But I didn’t want the Council to think I’d slacked off on anything where my brother was concerned. Dak had called in the morning to tell me he was going to Chicago for an overnight with a blond something or other. Isn’t that cute? As backup, we always let each other know when we were going to be out of town.
Anyway, I let myself in, waving at the old lady next door. She probably thought I was picking up his mail. She actually was a great neighbor for my brother. Completely deaf with an obsession for baking, Estelle took good care of him. I guess his charm was intergenerational.
I put the mail on the hall table and headed inside. Dak was surprisingly neat. He’d always been that way. Maybe to keep the bachelor pad looking good for the ladies. I walked through the apartment, checking for anything out of place.
Seriously, How did one go about looking for something incriminating on her brother? Especially when I didn’t think he had anything to do with this mole thing. After a little floundering, I told myself to just search it like a regular hit, convincing myself that this would be excellent practice for when I searched my other cousins’ places.
Carefully, I went through all the drawers in his room, pulling them all the way out to see if there were hidden panels or something taped to the bottom. Grandma would have been proud of me.
I tackled his closet, going through every pocket and shoe, looking for something I was convinced I wasn’t going to find. The bed came next, as did the nightstand and the floorboards beneath the expensive Oriental rug.
I was relieved to have found nothing, which surprised me because I didn’t expect to find anything. The bathroom and office were next. I went through each file meticulously. Nothing there but his diplomas, insurance, and health information. The living room and dining room were also clean. The sofa yielded only thirty-two cents and a stash of condoms.
All this clandestine searching made me hungry. No wonder! It was one-thirty. I found a Diet Coke and leftover pizza in the fridge. Hell, he wouldn’t notice it was missing. I nuked two slices and opened his spice cupboard to find the garlic salt.
Odd. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Dak hated Parmesan cheese. So why were there two large jars of it in the cupboard?
I snickered out loud. “Duh, Gin! Maybe it’s for his guests.” For some reason, I looked around. “Well,” I said to absolutely no one, “I’m a guest.”
I opened the first container and shook. It was very light, which normally would have told me it was empty, except for the weird rattling sound inside. Hmmm. Unless I was wrong, parmesan cheese rarely made a clunkety-clunk sound.
Maybe it had clumped up and hardened after sitting there for so long. I pried off the cap and looked inside. A small memory stick was all that was in there.
Okay. Lots of people backed up stuff. Family photos, important documents, that kind of thing. And hell, everyone in the family had secret hiding places, so it made sense Dak kept it hidden in the cheese can.
After convincing myself that was indeed the situation, I grabbed the other can from the shelf. After all, I still wanted Parmesan cheese. My heart sunk as I realized this can was also hiding something. A very thin cell phone popped out. It wasn’t his standard phone, but hey, it was always good to have access to a wireless phone in an emergency. I replaced both items in their containers and sat down to eat the pizza.
The phone and memory stick stayed in the top right-hand corner of my head—like a weird computer icon. Even after I’d left Dak’s house to pick up Romi, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. And that was starting to piss me off.
Goddamned Council. They’d messed me up with this assignment. Believe me, there was nothing worse than an assassin who had lost her nerve. They’d turned me into a suspicious, nervous wreck! If anyone searched my house ... and I mean really searched it ... they’d find some weird shit too. It was just the way we Bombays operated. For two years, I had kept Romi’s baby photos on microfiche hidden in a fireproof vault in the garden. Eventually, I’d come to my senses and stopped doing that, but it was a perfect example of how nuts my family was.
After picking up Romi, we collected Poppy from Dad. He seemed sad to let her go. But I missed her, and Romi needed her. We’re not a normal family. So I reasoned we should do things that seemed normal. Like having a dog.
Diego came back for dinner again, this time bringing Italian carryout. Romi squealed with glee. Spaghetti was her favorite food. She’d eat it for every meal if given the chance. During dinner, I thought I saw Diego wink at her. Ahhhh. It worked. He’d achieved godlike status in her eyes.
I dropped the assassin subject from the night before because, well, because I didn’t want to think about it. I loved everything about Diego. He was perfect! And we clicked. Same sense of humor, perfect chemistry in bed, and he loved Romi. He even read her a book at bedtime.
“She’s a great kid,” he said as he joined me in the kitchen a half hour later. Diego wrapped his arms around me from behind. He smelled wonderful. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I could really get used to this.
“Thanks. And nice job with dinner. How did you know it was her favorite?” I turned around and grinned.
Diego laughed. “Oh, she might have mentioned it at some point.”
“So you’re trying to win me by bribing my daughter?”
He shook his head. “I want to win her too. Remember, I love kids.”
This time, we sat in the living room and talked for a couple of hours instead of going straight to my bed. We slipped into conversation comfortably. As we talked about hometowns and family, I realized how much I missed having someone to end the day with. With a start, I remembered that Ed and I had ended every night this way. Diego easily filled that role. The conversation steered to Romi and her school, and I was thrilled that he was so attentive. Apparently, Diego was just as interested in joining the family as I’d hoped he would be.
Of course, there was that rather sinister side of joining the family. But for now I focused only on the three of us.
“I’d love to take your family out to dinner some time.”
“I’m sure Romi would love that.”
He laughed. “No, I mean yes. You and Romi, but also your mum, dad and brother.”
“Why?” I said before I could stop myself.
“Well, the circumstances I’ve met them under weren’t exactly ideal. I’d like to get to know them. What do you think?”
Whoa. I guess he hadn’t been kidding about the two weeks. Okay, why was this bothering me? He’d already met them. And I was pretty sure he would charm them to death. Hmmm. That might be worth exploring. I wondered if you really could charm someone to death. What a pleasant way to die.
I forced myself back on topic. “All right,” I said, “How about tomorrow night?”
“Great! What’s your mum’s favorite place?”
I loved him hard right there. “Taschetta’s. On Third and Twenty-second.”
“What is it with your family and Italian food?” he teased.
“I don’t know. We’re Greek originally. Go figure.”
Of course, the night ended in the bedroom. It’s hard to describe how incredible Diego was in bed. Every time he touched me, I felt like the most desirable woman on earth. Our bodies moved together as if they’d been made to do just that one thing.
But while the sex was great, I found him even more mouthwatering because he loved my kid. He wanted to impress my mother. He wanted to meet my family. And he knew his way around a dishwasher. I wondered if I could wait for the two weeks to be over before I proposed.
As I watched him walk out to his car at three-thirty in the morning, I mentally wrote (in really girly handwriting)
Gin & Diego Bombay, 4-ever
. I bet I could get the Council to give me a year off after this assignment. Then I could take my time and tell my future husband everything. And we’d live happily ever after in a castle far, far away. Romi would be a princess, Diego would be the king, and I would be the queen of death.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“A desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy.”
—Gay Fawlkes
 
 
Dak called in the morning, just as Romi and I were running out the door. He was staying a little longer in Chicago due to complications with a German stewardess. Could I take the mail in again?
In my typical mom-iform of yoga pants, T-shirt and jacket, I popped into his house and stacked the new copies of
Soldier of Fortune and Handgunner
and a plain brown package from Good Vibrations on top of the old mail. I was just about to leave when I remembered the cell phone and memory card. It occurred to me that the Council might frown on the fact that I hadn’t checked them out, so I grabbed them and headed home.
I had a few hours until meeting Liv for lunch, so I hit the secret workshop and plugged the network card into my laptop.
“If I download a virus, Dak, you’re so dead,” I said to myself. My mind wandered a little, setting up different scenarios of how I would kill him if he messed up my laptop.
I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I saw that all the files were photos. I’m not sure what I was expecting—a list of undercover CIA operatives, the Dead Sea Scrolls, architectural plans for the Empire’s Death Star? Photos I could deal with. Who knew the kid was so sentimental? I mean, he took millions of shots of my daughter every time he was around her. I clicked on the first file folder and opened it.
Here I was, thinking these were pictures of my precious little girl. So you can imagine how shocked I was to find a photographic record of my little brother’s love life. Each folder was from a different conquest. And honestly? I had no idea there were so many uses for peanut butter and fishing line.
I didn’t want to go any further, but I had to check them all out. I’d definitely have to use Lysol on my keyboard (and maybe my eyes) when I was done. And while I was impressed by how limber my brother really was, I didn’t need to see these.
At last there was only one folder left. Then I could take a shower and don a hairshirt to punish myself. I clicked on the next file while squinting through one eye. But this file was different. There were no naked brunettes, acrobatic blondes or multi-orgasmic redheads. Had I hit the family pictures at last?
The first photo had Grandma in it. Only this wasn’t your typical family album stuff. Grandma was kneeling over a man. A dead man, from the looks of the red blood splashed all over the room. In her left hand (I didn’t know she was a lefty) was a .45 semiautomatic pistol.
I clicked on the next picture and saw a photo of Uncle Lou tossing a knife into the chest of a large blond man in a suit. This couldn’t be right! Each photo depicted a family member making a hit. Why would he even have these? How could he have gotten them? Granted, we all wanted a little backup, but this was downright terrifying.
There it was, in full color—my family’s profession. Every member was featured except for Dak, Mom, Paris, Liv and me. Was this some sort of insurance policy? I definitely needed to talk to my brother when he got home. This kind of shit was way too dangerous to have lying around ... even if it was carefully hidden in a dried cheese can.
I tossed the memory stick into an envelope and stashed it in my safe. I hoped no one would ever find it there. I threw the cell phone in my pocket and headed to Liv’s for lunch. Maybe she’d have some kind of explanation for what I’d seen.
 
“Obviously,” Liv rolled her eyes as she handed me a sandwich, “he gets turned on looking at pictures of his liaisons.”
I made a face. “Not that! The other file. And by the way, why aren’t you freaked out? You’d be totally grossed out if you found something like that at Paris’s place!”
“Get over it. Your brother has sex with lots of women. Big deal.” She took a bite of her tuna melt and chewed thoughtfully. I didn’t even want to know what she was thinking.
“Okay, fine! Let’s forget about those and focus on the”—I looked around and whispered—“family photos.”
“I’d guess it’s his insurance policy.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Didn’t you say you found a phone too?” Liv asked.
I nodded and pulled it out of my pocket.
“Oooh!” Liv cooed as I handed it to her. “I love these! I’ve been trying to get one, but there are waiting lists for this model.”
I arched my right eyebrow. “Waiting lists? For a cell phone? What? Like for a Hermes Birkin bag?” I’d been on a wait list for that damned purse for two years! Who did I have to kill to get that bag?
Liv nodded, oblivious to my rant. “Yup.” She flipped it open. “These things are really rare. Top of the line too. I wonder why he’d hide it from us? Seems like Dak would want to show it off.”
BOOK: 'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy
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