THE HITWOMAN’S KNIGHT FIGHT

A COMICAL CRIME CAPER

CONFESSIONS OF A SLIGHTLY NEUROTIC HITWOMAN

BOOK 46

JB LYNN

Copyright  © Jennifer Baum THE HITWOMAN’S KNIGHT FIGHT

All rights reserved. Except as permitted by US copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The Hitwoman’s Knight Fight is intended for 18+ older and for mature audiences only.

© 2024 Jennifer Baum

Cover designer: AM Design Studios

Proofreader: Proof Before You Publish

Formatting: Leiha Mann

CONTENTS

A note

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Author’s Note

The Hitwoman’s Evil Ex

Oh Shoot!

Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

Cursed Chicks Club

Also by JB Lynn

About JB Lynn

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PROLOGUE

You just know it's going to be a bad day when you're being chased by a fire-breathing dragon.

My name is Maggie Lee, and you're probably wondering how I got here. To be honest, so am I. I'm sure some might say that this was all my Aunt Loretta's fault. God would probably say that it was due to Ms. Whitehat. But I am pretty sure it was my own fault.

1

It was the big day. The house practically buzzed with excitement. The only thing I was excited about was getting my first cup of coffee. I had the feeling I was going to need it. My instincts about these things are rarely wrong.

"Morning, Maggie." Templeton’s low-key greeting as he held out a steaming mug to me was the way I wished everyone in the house would behave.

"Morning," I murmured. "Thanks."

He cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Is that what you're wearing?"

I shot him a confused glance. I really like my Aunt Loretta's lover, mostly because he's probably the least judgmental person living in our household. It seemed strange that he was going to critique my outfit.

"It's just that…" He trailed off awkwardly. "Loretta is going all in."

Considering that most of my aunt’s clothes were chosen to show off her bosom, I took that to mean that she was going to be hanging out.

"And the girls are in their princess dresses," Templeton revealed.

I nodded my understanding. The family was going to Knight Fights, a medieval dinner theater extravaganza. Aunt Loretta made no secret that she intended to ogle the manly knights running around in faux chain mail armor and tights. My nieces, Katie and Alicia, were going to watch juggling, swordplay, and impressive feats of falconry.

I was glad that my nieces were so looking forward to the day. Somehow, they'd even convinced their friend, Dominic, to accompany us. This meant that in addition to my crazy family, we had the little boy, his grandfather, the mob boss Delveccio, and whatever contingent of black-suited bodyguards he was bringing along. It was going to be an event.

"How do I look, Chica?" My friend and housemate, Armani Vasquez, limped into the room.

I choked on my coffee. "What are you supposed to be?"

She did a slow turn and shook her butt so that I could get the full effect of her costume.

I stared at her, barely able to find the words to express my horror. "You're really not going to wear that?"

"Of course, I am. I'll be sure to catch the eye of a knight this way." Once again, she wiggled her butt. “Isn’t it awesome?”

“Not the word I’d use,” I replied slowly.

“I’m intrigued!” God, the anole lizard who was hanging out of my bra, scrambled up the strap so that he could take a look at what she was wearing.

Undeterred, Armani turned to Templeton. "You like it, don't you?"

Templeton froze.

"Is he supposed to be me?" God asked.

I choked on my coffee again.

Templeton, looking like a deer caught in headlights, offered Armani a weak smile. "It’s certainly unique."

"You look like Puff the Magic Dragon," I blurted out.

"Good!" Armani grinned, shaking her dragon tail, a sparkling appendage of her bedazzled costume.

I was pretty sure the sequins were supposed to represent scales, but she looked like a lurching disco ball with a tail. "Good?"

"I'm supposed to be a dragon," she told me. "It's guaranteed to get me the attention of the knights.”

"Because she doesn't look anything like me," God muttered, still stuck on the idea that my friend was dressed up like my pet lizard.

I took another swig of coffee, thinking it might help if it was something stronger. Maybe, I wished, I'd choke on a swallow, end up in the hospital, and get to skip the adventures of the day. I knew I wouldn't get that lucky.

"Aunt Maggie! Aunt Maggie!" My niece Katie came running into the room wearing, what I'm pretty sure was, a version of a princess gown. But it was black, and she was wearing some sort of tinfoil hat.

"Don’t you look nice?" Templeton remarked cheerily.

My niece spun around, put her hands on her hips, and said, "I don't look nice. I look like I could kick your butt." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him for emphasis.

"You certainly do," he agreed. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Please forgive me."

"That depends," my crafty niece said. "What's for breakfast?"

"Gruel," Templeton told her. "It's what they used to eat way back then."

She gave him a suspicious look. "I don't believe you."

"That's because not only are you scary, you’re a clever girl.” He reached out and ruffled her hair. "I was thinking chocolate chip pancakes.”

She grinned her approval.

He winked at her and began rummaging in a cupboard for pancake supplies.

"What are you going to wear, Aunt Maggie?" she asked, turning her attention back to me.

I gulped nervously. "This." I ran my hands up and down the length of my body, indicating that I was going to be wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"That will never do," Katie said, sounding just as disapproving as her Great Aunt Susan.

Thankfully, I was saved from the critique of my ensemble by the arrival of Aunt Loretta. And by arrival, I mean, she stumbled in with dramatic flair, wearing an emerald green dress that threatened to eject her ample bosom if she inhaled too deeply. "Top of the morning to you, my loyal subjects," she trilled enthusiastically.

"Are you trying to be a medieval queen or a drunken leprechaun?" her lover asked.

I sputtered on my coffee. It wasn't enough to land me in the hospital, but I was very amused by Templeton’s dig.

"I am a benevolent queen, wishing my loyal subjects only the best," Loretta told him snippily, smoothing her skirt.

"You look pretty, Aunt Loretta,” Katie told her.

Pretty wasn't the word that I would've used. I would have told her that she looked even trampier than usual.

"And you look like an evil princess," Aunt Loretta told Katie.

Instead of being insulted, Katie beamed with pride.

"Nobody looks like an evil princess," my sister Marlene announced as she bustled into the room. “We are not labeling Katie ‘Villain for a Day’.”

“That would be cool!” Katie pouted.

I noted that, like me, my sister wasn’t in a costume. In fact, she was still in pajamas, but nobody was hassling her about a lack of costume.

Marlene’s daughter, Alicia, shuffled in, almost hidden beneath an oversized pile of tulle and ruffles. She looked lost in the bright yellow frilly concoction.

“And you look like Princess Sunbeam!” Aunt Loretta declared, clapping her hands with delight.

"Morning, Alicia," I said, noting that the girl hadn’t taken her eyes off the floor.

She stole a glance in my direction. As outgoing as Katie can be, Alicia is equally reserved. I had the distinct impression that she had not been the one to pick the yellow or the ruffles.

I made a point of not commenting on her appearance. "What are you most looking forward to today?" I asked her, instead.

“Falcons,” she whispered shyly.

“Me too,” I told her.

"What are you looking forward to, Templeton?" Katie asked, parroting my question.

"No cooking and no dishes," he declared.

That made both of my nieces giggle. I shot him a grateful look, which he acknowledged with the slightest of nods.

"But first, he's cooking us chocolate chip pancakes!" Katie cheered.

"I'm going to do the cleanup," I pledged.

"This is going to be a great day," Katie declared.

"At least someone is showing some enthusiasm," Aunt Loretta groused. "Really,

Maggie, are you truly going to explore this Renaissance experience wearing that?"

Templeton slid me a knowing sideways grin.

"I hadn't realized it was a costume party," I muttered.

"Even Susan is dressing up," Loretta told me. "You're going to stick out like a sore

thumb."

As though on cue, Aunt Susan entered the kitchen. Once again, I choked on my

coffee.

"I'm starting to think you have some sort of swallowing disorder," God groused from where he was perched on my shoulder.

"But look at her," I gasped.

Everyone turned their attention toward me, wondering who I was talking to.

Wanting to hide the fact that I'd been talking to the lizard, I waved my arms

expansively and declared enthusiastically, "Just look at her!"

Aunt Susan bestowed a benevolent smile on me.

"What are you supposed to be?" Katie asked curiously.

My aunt frowned slightly before responding. "A nun."

She certainly looked the part, wearing a head-to-toe black-and-white nun’s habit.

A large wooden cross hung from her neck.

"I think you look fabulous!" Loretta approved.

Marlene rolled her eyes. Of course, Loretta thought her sister looked fabulous. In

that get up, she provided no competition in getting the attention of any knights.

Aunt Susan turned and frowned at me. "Why is it that everyone else got dressed

for the occasion but not you, Margaret?"

My spine stiffened. "Nobody told me it was a dress-up day." I internally winced at

how whiny I sounded.

"You act like you haven't been to Knight Fights before," Aunt Susan told me crossly. "I

distinctly remember bringing you and your sisters there a number of times when you were

the same age as Katie and Alicia."

"Yeah," I responded. "And I remember getting dressed up for it when I was their age,

but I do not remember you putting on that." I waved my hand to envelop her.

"You're blaming your failure to participate on me?"

I sighed heavily. "I'm not blaming anything on anybody. I'm just saying that nobody

gave me the memo saying we were supposed to dress up like some sort of Renaissance

chicks."

"Are you guys going to fight the whole time?" Katie asked impatiently.

Everybody in the kitchen began to laugh. Which was a good thing, because tears

were coming soon.

2

I was finishing clearing the remains of breakfast when Aunt Susan’s husband, Lawrence Griswald, a retired U.S. Marshal, strolled in.

"Any coffee left?" he asked.

I glanced at him over my shoulder and was pleased to see that he was not wearing a costume. "Plenty." I moved to pour a cup for him.

"Brian will be here in a minute," he said. "Do you think you can hang around?"

"For how long?" I didn't mean the question to sound rude, but I had promised the girls that I would accompany them to KKnight Fights.

"Just to hear what he has to say," Griswald pledged with a chuckle. "I know what your obligations for the day are."

"How did you get out of it?" I asked curiously.

"Jealous?" he teased.

"A little," I admitted, sliding the drink in front of the seat he’d taken at the table.

Shaking his head, he explained, "Susan does not think I would make a good audience member. She thinks that with all the violence, I would be itching to arrest someone."

I smiled. "Are you?"

"Always."

I hung onto my weak grin for dear life. It wasn't easy being an assassin and living under the same roof as a retired law enforcement officer. Especially not one whose nephew was a police detective with a penchant for visiting his uncle.

As though he knew what I was thinking about him, Detective Brian Griswald knocked on the kitchen door.

"There he is," the elder Griswald said excitedly.

"I'll get it," I said, shoring up my fake smile. "Good morning, Brian." I kept my greeting light and cheery as I opened the door and allowed him into the house.

"Morning, Maggie."

"Coffee?" I offered.

He nodded.

"So, what can I help you with?" Griswald asked his nephew eagerly.

Brian hesitated.

"You said you wanted my help," his uncle reminded him.

I poured a cup of coffee for the man who could put me in prison, while they had their discussion.

"Have you noticed anyone or anything strange in the neighborhood lately?" Brian asked.

Griswald snorted. "Look where you are. Everyone here is strange."

"Hey," I protested. "I resent that." I slid the cup of coffee in front of Brian.

"I'm serious," Brian said somberly. "Have you noticed anything?"

Griswald shook his head and looked to me.

"Me neither.” I held my breath, waiting to hear what Brian was looking for.

"There is a thief on the loose," he revealed. “A number of your neighbors have been victims.”

"House break-ins?" Griswald asked, sounding disappointed that there wasn't any blood or gore involved.

"No evidence of break-ins," Brian admitted. "But we've had multiple people claim things were stolen out of their homes."

"And that's what you want my help with?" Griswald asked incredulously. “Some sort of low-level B&Es that might just be people misplacing their belongings?”

I could hear in his tone that his ego was bruised. He thought that this particular investigation was beneath him.

Brian shrugged. "I figured you'd want to keep the neighborhood safe."

Griswald frowned, tapping the side of his coffee mug three times with his finger before answering. "Okay. I'll look into it. But you better give me something to go on."

While the Griswalds worked out the details of the housebreaking investigation, I grabbed a couple of apples from the refrigerator and headed outside.

"Morning, toots!" Mike, the crow, cawed from above.

I glanced up at him and waved. Determining I wasn’t going to offer him anything to eat, he flapped his wings and sped away.

I headed toward the newly built paddock. Irma, the donkey, was trotting around in a circle, being chased by Billy, the goat.

"They are not putting me in a dress!" Piss, my one-eyed cat, hissed.

“I’d pay good money to see that,” the lizard in my bra chortled.

Looking around, I saw that my one-eyed feline companion was slinking near the barn door. Her good ear was flattened, and she looked ready to scratch someone at the slightest provocation.

“Nobody’s going to put you in a dress,” I soothed.

"They tried," she complained. "It was terrifying. I barely escaped."

I winced, realizing she was traumatized. "I'll talk to the girls," I assured her. "I'm sorry that they did that to you."

"It wasn't the children," she stressed. "It was the evil adults."

I blinked. "Who?"

"Susan and Loretta. They tried to put me in a dress. It was horrible.” Having made the surprising revelation, she raced away.

I shook my head. "It's going to be a long day," I said to no one in particular.

"Of course it is," God piped up from where he was lounging in my bra. "Anything that involves your family means a long day."

He wasn’t wrong.

"Morning, Maggie!" Irma brayed excitedly, having finally noticed my presence.

"Good morning, Irma." I walked over and offered her an apple.

She snatched it out of my hand and chomped on it with satisfaction.

"I do more than eat garbage, you know," Billy, the goat, complained bitterly, head-butting the paddock rail. "Nobody ever thinks to feed me."

I offered him the other apple that I held.

"Except you," he said, taking it from me. With his mouth full he added, "You're the best, Maggie."

"You are spoiling that demanding critter," a voice complained.

"I am not demanding," Billy argued, his words garbled as he protested with a mouth full of apple.

I turned and smiled at my grandfather. “Morning.”

Herschel did not look amused as he stood with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at the goat. "Your aunts are angry with me," he revealed.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Because I refuse to get dressed up and go to some sort of jousting match."

"It's okay," I assured him. "Griswald was just telling me that he's not going, either."

"But Templeton is," my grandfather revealed. “I saw him practicing yesterday.”

I frowned, trying to imagine what kind of “practice” Templeton would have been doing. I hoped he wasn’t planning to challenge a knight for the hand of his beloved.

"Probably just to keep an eye on Loretta," God assured us.

My grandfather nodded slowly, since he, too, can talk to animals and had understood the message. "I love my daughters. Each and every one of them. But every single one of them is difficult in their own way.”

I offered no argument. My mother and her sisters were all challenging.

"Now, you and Marlene, you’re different stories," Herschel continued, sounding bewildered. "You should have men falling all over themselves for you."

I chuckled. "You know that Doc left to go to medical school," I reminded him about my sister's ex-boyfriend. "And you know what happened to Gino."

He cocked his head, and for a moment, I wondered if one of the animals had told him that my boyfriend wasn't really dead. I was relieved when he shook his head. "You have your whole life ahead of you. You shouldn't be alone."

I resisted the urge to point out that I'm never alone. There's almost always a lizard in my bra and a menagerie of other animals vying for my attention, not to mention all the “difficult” human family members making their demands of me.

Herschel jerked his chin toward the driveway. "Company."

I looked over my shoulder to see whose vehicle was rolling down the driveway behind me. I recognized my brother’s truck and swallowed hard. Ian, and his girlfriend Kristen, would be leaving soon for Arizona. There wouldn’t be many more times when he would be arriving here. My heart squeezed as I thought about how much I was going to miss him.

Still, I was glad that he'd agreed to go to KKnight Fights, so that the family could have the chance to make one last memory together. Ignoring my sadness regarding his imminent departure, I forced myself to wave and smile at him.

He pulled to a stop and climbed out of his truck. He was wearing denim overalls and a straw hat.

"What are you supposed to be?" Herschel asked his grandson.

Ian shrugged. "A farmer? They had farmers back then, didn’t they?”

"Maybe I should give you a pitchfork," Herschel suggested.

"They're not going to let him into the place with a pitchfork," I said quickly. "It could be considered a weapon. I’m sure they have strict rules about such things.”

"Isn't the whole place filled with weapons?" Herschel asked. "Swords, spears, daggers."

"Yes, but those are for the staff to use, not the guests," I said firmly. "Ian is not bringing a pitchfork. He is bringing no farm implements with him whatsoever."

“Killjoy," Herschel muttered, and headed into the barn.

I was surprised to see my father, Archie Lee, climb out of the passenger side of Ian's truck.

"Morning, Maggie May!" he boomed.

My dad would not have needed a costume. He naturally looks like Santa Claus, with a flowing white beard and a protruding belly. But he had gotten dressed up. Or, at least, he'd come with props. He carried two huge plastic beer steins.

"Well, what are you supposed to be?" I asked.

"The jovial tavern owner," he said. "I, personally, think, I’m a natural."

I nodded.

"Where’s your costume?" Ian asked.

“I didn't know it was a dress-up thing!" I exclaimed once again.

"You're going to stick out like a sore thumb," my father predicted. "Maggie Lee -- she who has no sense of imagination or play.”

I shook my head. "Maybe I should just put a bull's-eye on my chest," I muttered. "It seems to be open season on me."

"Don't be bitter, M&M," Dad chastised. "Nobody likes a curmudgeon."

"I do!" God offered from my bra on a whisper that was only loud enough for me to hear.

I swallowed a smile, touched by his support.

Ian and Archie headed into the house.

“Maybe I should figure out a costume,” I said to the lizard. “Any ideas?”

“Dress-up is not within my purview,” he drawled dryly.

I forgot about finding something more appropriate to wear as I watched a black SUV barrel toward me.

"I'd be willing to bet I'm not going to be the only one that isn't dressed up," I told God.

He scrambled up onto my shoulder to see what was going on. "I'm sure Dominic has a great costume," he predicted.

"I hope so.” It was a place that I’d really enjoyed as a kid. I was hoping that Dominic and the girls would have an equally good time.

The SUV parked, and the back door was thrown open. Dominic jumped out. The little boy wore a purple cloak covered with stars and a pointy hat. He carried a gnarled tree branch.

"Yay!" I called enthusiastically. "The wizard is here!" Part of my excitement came from the fact that I could actually figure out what he was wearing.

Dominic beamed proudly and bowed slightly.

"The girls are inside. You can go find them."

He waved the wand at me and then ran toward the house.

Before he could even reach the porch, Katie, followed by Alicia, came charging out to greet their friend.

"You look awesome!" Katie declared excitedly.

"I like your wand," Alicia murmured in her more subdued way. “Come see my mom’s wings.”

The three children rushed into the house.

"I can't believe I agreed to do this," Delveccio, the mob boss who was Dominic's grandfather, complained from inside the SUV.

I walked over to greet him. "Morning."

"I'm glad you didn't say it was good," he muttered as he climbed out of the front passenger seat wearing what appeared to be a red velvet robe.

I immediately dipped down into a curtsy.

He shook his head. "I can't believe I let Susan convince me to wear this. I look like a chump. You’re not wearing anything."

I didn’t even bother to protest.

"I like your cloak!" Katie said, running up to the mobster. An average person might have approached him with more trepidation, but my niece, oblivious of his criminal activities, treated him like a member of her family.

I looked around, but the other two kids were nowhere in sight.

"What's with the tinfoil hat?" the mobster asked my niece.

She patted her aluminum foil-encrusted skull. "It's not a hat. It's armor. I'm a knight!"

She jumped into what I would assume was supposed to be a fighting pose, but she looked more like she was stuck in a game of Twister gone wrong.

To his credit, the mob boss managed to hold back a smile.

"Katie," Templeton called from the front door. "Go join Alicia and Dominic in the kitchen, please."

My niece jumped out of her fighting stance and ran inside the house. Templeton strolled out the door, wearing an oversized hat, a tunic, which appeared to be made of a feed sack, and what looked suspiciously like tights.

"What are you?" I asked, crossing my fingers and hoping that he wasn't going to say an asylum resident.

He whipped a ukulele out from behind his back and strummed it. "I am a minstrel, of course, my lady."

"With a ukulele?" I teased.

"It's a lute," he corrected with a wink.

"If it looks like a ukulele, and it sounds like a ukulele…"

He and I both chuckled.

"I've got two cars of men that are going to accompany us," Delveccio announced. "You’re going to have to give up your lute to them.”

"It's not a weapon," I said, feeling the need to defend Templeton. "How else will people know he's a minstrel?"

Delveccio shrugged. "Not my problem. I'm more concerned with keeping everybody safe."

3

I itched. I had to clench my hands to prevent myself from scratching my skin raw.

Marlene, decked out in her fairy wings and face glitter, had gotten the brainstorm that I should wear a costume, too. She’d cut a neck and arm holes in a feed bag from the barn and told me that with a pair of tights, I’d look like a peasant.

Now, I itched. But at least I was in the costume.

We were shuffling toward the entrance of the Knight Fights arena. Everyone was in costume except for the eight black-suited men who surrounded us. These were Delveccio's guards. I didn't stick out like a sore thumb, they did.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on fighting the urge to scratch, and promptly collided with a suit of armor. My eyes flew open, and I realized I hadn’t run into a statue, but a man dressed as a knight. “Sorry,” I murmured.

I couldn’t see his face, but for some reason, he seemed familiar.

He bowed slightly and marched off.

As my dad and brother led the way towards our seats, I watched the kids.

They oohed and aahed at every sound effect or special effect explosion that went off around us at regular intervals. They stared in awe at the knights marching around in their clanging metal uniforms. They waved to every princess who blew them kisses. They twirled the ribbons on sticks that Aunt Susan had insisted on buying. And they giggled, a lot.

It was good to see them so happy.

I shot a look at Aunt Loretta, thinking I was going to thank her for suggesting this outing, but she was too busy flirting with a knight. Templeton trailed a couple of paces behind her, watching with a bemused expression. I was never going to understand their relationship.

Even Aunt Susan, flanked by the fairy, Marlene, on one side and Armani, the dragon, on the other, seemed to be having fun. Delveccio and I brought up the rear. He looked quite majestic in his cloak. More than one total stranger had bowed to him. I was relieved that nobody had kissed his pinky ring.

"He's loving this," Delveccio murmured, watching his grandson with undisguised fondness.

"They all are," I agreed.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," he complained with false grouchiness.

"I talked you into letting Dominic attend," I pointed out. "I never said anything about you coming along, and it was Aunt Susan who convinced you to⁠—"

I never finished the thought because I saw a flash of blue coming at us quickly. Instinctively, I pushed Delveccio out of the way. The blue blur barreled into me, and we fell onto the ground in a tangle of limbs.

“Sensitive skin!” God gasped in protest.

"I'm sorry," a woman murmured apologetically, breathing heavily. Then, she locked eyes and whispered, "It’s the best.”

"It's okay," I told her. I studied her for a brief moment as we both struggled to sit up. I observed her bejeweled princess costume and the panicked look in her eyes. There was no mistaking that she was afraid. "There's no harm done," I assured her.

One of Delveccio's guards reached down, offering me a hand. He pulled me to my feet unceremoniously and gave me a quick once-over.

"I'm fine," I assured him, noting that my group had been ushered away by the rest of the security unit.

A frowning Delveccio watched from a few feet away. "You should watch where you're going," he told the woman who’d collided with me.

Casting her eyes downward, she nodded and scurried off.

"It was just an accident. You try to walk in heels and a puffy skirt sometime,” I told the mobster. “You didn't have to scare her like that."

"I didn't scare her," he argued.

I shook my head, realizing that it wasn't worth arguing with him about. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall man, who I assumed was supposed to be a plague doctor, wearing a floor-length black coat, topped by a black leather hat and a birdlike mask, hurrying in the direction the woman had disappeared.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Something was wrong. I could feel it.

"I could use a little girl's room," I told the mobster, and then ducked around his guard, before he could protest and have me stopped.

I hurried in the direction that I thought the runaway princess had disappeared. It was difficult to keep an eye on the plague doctor’s hat through the crush of the crowd.

"What's wrong?" God asked. He was hidden in my bra, but could probably tell from my anxious breathing, that something was going on.

"I’ve got a bad feeling," I told him.

"You just had a scare," he soothed.

"Then why is that man following her?” I muttered.

The lizard pulled himself up onto my shoulder to see what I was talking about. The plague doctor turned a corner, and I had to duck around an oversized “magical” wishing well, complete with a fog machine and flashing lights, that people were tossing coins into. It took me a couple of extra seconds longer than it should have to avoid the bottleneck. I hurried forward, wanting to get around the corner, needing to warn the woman that she was being followed.

But I was too late.

A scream filled the hallway leading to the performance arena. It was so loud, and so terrified, that the milling crowd seemed to absorb the fear. Half the customers froze in place, and the other half bolted, like lemmings to a cliff, for the exit doors.

"Whoa!" God protested as somebody slammed into me. I stumbled and he was barely able to hold on to my hair. I raised a hand, trying to protectively cup him, knowing that if he fell, there was a good chance he would not survive the stampede of people pushing past me.

I fought against the stream, trying to get to where I thought the scream had originated.

The woman screamed again.

I rounded the corner and gasped. The princess who'd run into me was lying face-up in the middle of the hallway. A sword stuck out of her chest.

Even from a distance, I knew this was no special effect. She was dead.

4

There are some things, no amount of ice cream can make better.

This was one of those things. Katie, Alicia, and Dominic stared glumly at their oversized ice cream sundaes.

The day had been a bust and their little hearts were broken.

Despite the valiant efforts of Ian, Marlene and Templeton, my nieces and their friend would not be consoled. They had been looking forward to going to see the knights fight. They’d worn their costumes and had been given the souvenirs, but they’d never even made it to their seats.

The show had been canceled due to the death, dare I say, obvious murder, of the mysterious klutzy princess.

We’d had to wait for hours to answer the most basic questions from the police. I had not offered the information that I'd had a collision with the dead woman. If they had asked, I would have said something, but all I was asked for was for my name and my identification. I complied to the letter of the law.

Unfortunately, the cops had recognized and hassled Delveccio, taking him away for separate questioning, which had upset Dominic.

Since there was nothing to distract the little boy with, it had been Aunt Susan's idea to promise the kids ice cream. Their response had been less than enthusiastic, but she insisted on doing it. Now, we lingered in the ice cream parlor: a knight, a princess, a fairy, a nun, a dragon, a minstrel, a tavern owner, a farmer, a king, a queen and an itchy peasant, along with eight men in black suits. To say the other patrons and staff were staring, was to put it mildly. And yet, the emotional bribery had not worked. The children were still dejected.

"Do something, Margaret," Aunt Susan demanded with exasperation.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Because, for some reason, they all seem to like you," she told me impatiently. "So, do something."

Sighing, I walked over to the table where the kids and Marlene sat.

"You guys, okay?" I asked, taking a seat beside Katie.

None of the children replied.

"I know this was disappointing," I told them. "We'll go again."

Katie perked up a little at that. "We will?"

I nodded. "I'm sure that they're going to put on another show very soon, and we’ll go see that, I promise."

Dominic looked to his grandfather. "Can we?"

The mobster shot me a look, clearly not pleased that I had made this promise to the boy. "We'll think about it,” he said grudgingly.

Katie jumped up from her seat, put her hands on her hips, and stared down the mob boss. "There's nothing to think about," she said with all of the self-confidence and determination of a child who'd never really failed at anything yet in her life. "We're going. Dominic is going with us." She jutted out her chin and stared at Delveccio defiantly.

I'm pretty sure that everyone else in our party collectively held their breath. She had no idea who she was threatening, but the adults did.

Delveccio began to chuckle. "Anybody ever told you you're a lot like your Aunt Maggie?"

"Yes," Katie said, nodding solemnly. "Aunt Susan. Usually when she's mad at me."

This made everybody else start to laugh. I'm pretty sure I even saw the black-suited guards smirking.

Having been promised another trip to KKnight Fights, the kids enthusiastically dug into their melting ice cream. They chattered and giggled and acted silly. Soon, the heavy mood that had been hanging over us dissipated into nothingness.

“Good job, Margaret,” Aunt Susan whispered in my ear.

"You're back already?" Herschel asked when we rolled down the driveway and piled out of our respective vehicles. He did not seem to be pleased by our unexpected early return.

"Back you’re!" DeeDee, my Doberman pinscher, barked excitedly. She ran up to all three children and licked their chins before coming to stand in front of me.

She looked up at me expectantly. "Back Maggie you’re."

"We are," I agreed.

"Why?" Piss purred curiously.

It wasn't like I could tell the cat that there'd been a murder. Or that I'd had contact with the victim, and that I’d had a bad feeling, but been too late to save the woman. Instead, I ignored the cat’s question and turned toward Susan as she told everyone, "Okay, everybody out of their costumes. We need to save them for next time. We don't want them to be damaged or dirty."

Katie and Alicia ran inside, followed by Marlene. Armani limped after them, her dragon tail drooping.

"You can help me take mine off," Aunt Loretta offered Templeton. She grabbed his hand, and like a couple of teenagers, they ran off together, giggling.

Herschel rolled his eyes. "Save me." He headed toward the barn as though being in the company of human beings was too much for him.

"We'll try again," Archie said, and he and Ian headed toward my brother's truck.

That left me standing with Delveccio and his grandson. He ushered the boy into the waiting SUV and then turned to study me as he asked, "You see anything?"

I shook my head.

"I'll put more guards on your place," he pledged. With that, he joined the boy in the vehicle, and they drove off.

"What happened, Sugar?" Piss asked. This time, she wasn't just curious, she sounded worried.

"A woman flattened us and then was murdered," God explained.

“We weren’t flattened as much as stumbled into,” I corrected.

“Why are you defending a dead woman?” the lizard asked. “She knocked you to the ground and bruised my sensitive skin.”

"Delveccio killed her because she mowed you down?" Piss asked with alarm.

"Of course not," I told her. “We just collided, and then she ran away. I tried to catch up because there were this guy in a plague doctor costume following her, but I got there too late because of a magical wishing well.”

"A magical wishing well,” Piss murmured incredulously.

"It's that kind of place," I tried to tell her.

“It sounds like it was a scary place," she remarked.

"Now safe!” DeeDee barked. "Guard will I."

"Okay," I told her, “but I really don't think there's going to be a problem."

"I'll tell Alejandro and Percival to be on guard, too," Piss said and ran off.

I took a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts.

"I heard you got mixed up in a murder," Griswald said, coming out onto the porch.

I glanced up at him. "Who told you that?"

"My wife," he said. "Unless you're going to dispute which she says she saw."

I shook my head, trying not to reveal the panic that had suddenly roiled in my gut. What had Susan told him? “It was terrible,” I said softly, trying to sound like the ordeal had left me shaken.

He nodded sympathetically, but I could tell from the glint in his eye that he didn’t believe me.

I swallowed hard. The last thing I needed was the bored, retired law enforcement officer paying close attention to me.

5

"Maybe you're cursed."

I eyed my friend Armani, sitting across from me at the kitchen table. She stared at me worriedly after making the unsettling suggestion.

"I don't think Maggie's cursed," Templeton offered. He was standing at the stove, making some sort of egg concoction.

"Oh, I think she could be," Armani argued. "What are the chances that a woman who was about to be murdered would run into you like that?"

"I think it was just bad luck," I said quietly.

"But there were hundreds of people there," Armani argued.

"She wasn't watching where she was going," I countered.

"And yet she managed to get past Delveccio's men," she pointed out.

I gripped the coffee mug that sat on the table in front of me tighter. I really didn't want to have this conversation.

"It was just tragic," Templeton said.

"And bad luck," God piped up from where he was hanging out in my bra. "She might not be wrong about you being cursed."

"Pull!" Armani whipped out her bag of Scrabble tiles, gave it a shake, and looked at me expectantly.

"I really don't—" I began to protest, not wanting one of her semi-psychic predictions.

"Pull!" she insisted. "You need as much help as possible."

Deciding it would be easier to agree rather than argue, I reached into the bag and pulled out seven tiles. I put them down on the table in alphabetical order. A I N O R S T

“Rain forest!” Armani guessed.

“We’re three letters short for that,” I argued.

She squinted at the tiles. “Strain. Maybe it’s a warning that you’re going to twist your ankle or something.”

“What about the O?” I countered.

“Sit iron,” she offered. “Maybe there’s some sort of iron throne. We are going back to Knight Fights you know. Maybe if you sit on iron, a handsome knight will come and sweep you off your feet.”

“Hard to do if I’m already sitting,” I replied dryly.

When we heard Aunt Loretta’s stilettos clattering toward the kitchen, Armani quickly slipped the Scrabble tiles back into the bag.

"Good morning, my loyal subjects," Loretta trilled as she stumbled into the room.

"Someday," Templeton told her sternly, "those shoes are going to be the death of you. I wouldn't love you any less if you wore something sensible, you know."

Loretta scrunched up her face in disgust. "Sensible shoes?"

"You should listen to your man," Armani said. "Otherwise, you could end up like me."

"I thought you had an accident with an ice skater," Loretta replied.

"It was a Zamboni machine," Armani said with a shudder. “I was run over by a Zamboni.”

"What's that?" Loretta asked.

"It's the machine that they use to smooth out the ice at skating rinks," Armani explained. "I got caught under one."

Loretta, having used up her entire supply of interest in someone other than herself, turned to Templeton and said, "Did you pack me lunch?"

"Did you ask me to pack you lunch?" he replied, glancing at Armani, who was staring off into space, obviously reliving the horror of being run over by a Zamboni machine.

"No," Loretta confirmed. "But I need one."

"You’re the boss. You could come home for lunch," Templeton nudged gently.

"No time," Loretta said. "The shop's been busy."

"Well, I could bring a lunch later,” he suggested.

My aunt shook her head, which made her fake eyelashes look like they were going to go flying through the air. "No. I'll pick something up." With that, she flitted out of the room, her ankles wobbling and the heels of the shoes looking like they were about to snap at any moment.

"You okay?" I asked my friend gently.

Armani blinked, shrugged, and then said, "She’s right. The store’s been really busy."

"That's great," I said. I wasn't a big fan of The Corset, the lingerie shop that she co-owned with Loretta, but I was glad to hear that something in her life was going well.

Griswald burst into the kitchen through the back door. "There you are!" He gave me an accusing look.

"It's breakfast time," I pointed out. "Chances are good that I would've either been here or in my bedroom."

"I need your help," he declared.

"With the break-ins?" I asked. I'd been dreading his anticipated request for assistance ever since his nephew had visited.

"What break-ins?" Templeton asked with alarm.

"Brian says that some of our neighbors have reported things have gone missing," Griswald explained. "Personally, I'm not convinced these things weren't just misplaced, but he's asked me to look into it."

"Yes," I pointed out. "He asked you, not me."

"But I told him I was recruiting you," Griswald said. "Unless you have something better to do."

"Well, I am looking for a job," I told him. Hoping the weak excuse would be enough to get out of the burglary investigation.

"This is a job," Griswald told me.

"A steady job," I corrected. "You know, one with a set schedule."

“We could make a schedule,” he wheedled.

“Also, one where I would actually be paid. I didn't hear Brian saying anything about any kind of remuneration or reward."

Griswald shook his head. "I'll pay you an hourly rate."

"You don't have to do that," I said, shaking my head.

"You just said you were looking for a paying job," he pointed out.

"And we both know that Aunt Susan will kill me if I take money from you," I told him. "I'll do what I can to help…free of charge, but I’m a busy woman."

He grinned, pleased that he'd gotten what he'd wanted, and then hurried back outside.

"Where are the cat and dog?" Armani asked.

"They’re at the barn," I said tiredly. "They followed Katie and Alicia to the classroom."

"Not before DeeDee tried to eat my arm off," Templeton said.

I glanced at him, surprised. He never complained about the Doberman. "Something happened?"

"She just seems hungrier than usual," he said good-naturedly. “I'm thinking maybe we need to change up her food."

“Okay, I'll get something.”

“Maybe with a higher fat or protein level,” he suggested.

“I’ll ask the people at the pet store,” I promised.

Templeton nodded his approval.

"Back to the tiles," Armani said.

I shrugged. "I told you I don't have any idea what it means."

"You have to be careful, Chica," she reprimanded. "After all, you're cursed."

I didn't want to believe her, but considering what was waiting for me when I finished breakfast, I figured she might be right.

I was surprised, when I walked outside, to find a tall, good-looking man sitting perched on the top rung of the paddock fence.

"Morning!" I called.

Nat Hunting turned to smile at me over his shoulder. "Morning, Lee."

"I wasn't expecting to see you today," I said, strolling over to stand beside him.

"I’m full of surprises," he drawled dryly.

I nodded. I was still confused that the man I’d met, who had a snake devouring itself inked around his throat, actually had no tattoos. At least, no visible ones.

He tilted his head and gave me a rueful grin. "Plus, I’m a messenger boy."

"Oh," I murmured. My stomach flipped nervously.

"The woman you call Whitehat would like to see you," he said formally. "As soon as possible."

"Why?"

He shrugged. “I wasn't told. I was just told to come and collect you and bring you to her.”

I frowned, wondering why my friend Zeke hadn't been sent to ferry me to the woman in charge of the shadowy organization I sometimes did work for.

"Okay," I said, deciding it wasn't worth arguing about, "give me a minute to grab my things.”

"No rush," Nat said easily. "I'm just enjoying watching the donkey and goat do their thing."

I glanced over at Irma and Billy, who were arguing about whether lettuce or kale was a better treat. "Enjoy."

I hurried back to the house to grab my phone and wallet.

"What do you think that's about?" God asked.

"I have no idea," I admitted.

"Maybe she wants to talk to you about the murder," God suggested.

"Why would she want to do that?" I asked. "It’s not like I did it."

"This time." He chuckled.

I grabbed a jacket and my purse and hurried back outside to meet with Nat. He'd gotten stuck in a conversation with Griswald.

"I just told Griswald about our date," Nat said, his eyes trying to communicate that he needed me to agree with him.

I stumbled slightly. I understood why he couldn't tell Griswald where he was bringing me, but I wasn't sure using a date as an excuse was the best choice. “It’s just coffee.”

"Don't worry," Griswald said, noting my panic. "I promise not to tell a soul."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"You two go before someone sees you together." Griswald made a shooing motion at us.

Nat jumped off the fence and led me to his truck. He made a show of opening the door for me and helping me inside.

Once he was behind the driver's wheel, I asked through clenched teeth, "A date?"

"You're single, I'm single, it seemed like a valid excuse," Nat said. "Would you have preferred for me to tell him that Whitehat was demanding to see you?"

"Of course not,” I admitted with a sigh.

"Besides, if you tell them that you're dating me, you can come and go as you please without having to give too much of an explanation."

"True," I murmured grudgingly.

“That’s what partners are for, Lee.”

We rode silently to wherever the no doubt, deserted location, was that Whitehat wanted to meet me at.

After a few minutes, Nat asked, "You okay, Lee?"

"Sure," I told him dismissively.

He slid me a sideways look and then shook his head.

“Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged, drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel. "You seem…off."

"What do you mean off?" I asked defensively.

"I know it was hard on you when Gino left," he said carefully.

I held my breath, an unfortunate habit I’d adopted every time someone mentioned my boyfriend that most people believed to be dead.

"But then, after a while, you seemed to be getting better, but lately…"

"Lately what?" I asked.

"You seem a little off your game," he admitted. "I mean, I know it was hard on you having Zeke suspected of murder, but that's over with now.”

"I'm fine," I told him.

"That's what all women say right before everything goes wrong," he observed.

I didn’t deign to respond.

"Just watch yourself with Whitehat."

I didn't quite understand what he was trying to warn me about, but I knew that he wasn't voicing the caution for no reason. My stomach churned nervously, wondering what Whitehat had in store for me.

We pulled in front of a small café, he jerked his chin toward it, indicating that I should go inside.

I swallowed nervously.

"I’m here for you," he promised.

I slid out of the truck, tightened my grip on my purse, and walked into the establishment with my head held high.

I wasn't surprised that there was only one patron. Ms. Whitehat, in an impeccable ivory pantsuit, sat at a rear table. A teapot and two sets of fine china cups and saucers were the only things on the table in front of her.

I walked over slowly, trying to not appear as nervous as I felt.

"Ms. Lee," she greeted me formally.

I nodded at her. Whitehat isn't her real name, it's just what I call her, so it didn't seem right to greet her like that.

"Have a seat," she invited, and picked up the teapot. She poured us each a cup of the steaming beverage and put the pot back down before she spoke again. "I need you to tell me what happened yesterday."

I blinked, confused as I took a seat. "Yesterday?"

"Yes," she stressed, “yesterday.”

"Well," I began, even though I didn't know why. "My family and I all went to this place called Knight Fights. We got dressed up in⁠—"

She held up a hand to silence me." The woman you collided with was one of my operatives."

A chill ran down my spine. Suddenly, I didn't think it was an accident that the woman had barreled into me.

"An undercover operative," Whitehat elaborated. "I think that she interacted with you on purpose."

I gulped.

"Did she give you anything?"

I shook my head.

"Did she say anything?"

I hesitated, trying to remember every detail of the interaction. "She said, I'm sorry and it’s the best."

"It’s the best," Whitehat mused aloud. "It's an interesting choice."

"Does it mean something to you?"

The woman across from me picked up her teacup and sipped from it daintily. "It means, I need you to go undercover at Knight Fights."

6

"Me?" I squeaked nervously.

"And people say I squeak," God complained from my bra.

I ignored the lizard and stared at the woman across from me. "Why me?"

"Because I think you'd be best suited for the job."

I shook my head. "Not me. Definitely not me."

She arched an eyebrow.

"I was only there because my aunt suggested that my nieces would enjoy it," I told her. "I hate that place. It smells."

"Agreed," God said.

"You don't think it was an accident that the operative who was killed, ran to you, do you?"

I stared at her. "What do you mean?"

“My whole organization knows who you are, Ms. Lee. You're a bit of a legend.”

"Me?" This time, I squeaked with incredulity.

She nodded. "I need a good person in there. As you've seen, it's a dangerous job."

"What's the job, exactly?" I found myself asking, even though I knew better. After all, somebody had already been killed, trying to pull it off.

She gave me a slightly satisfied smile, reminding me of a fisherman who’d successfully set a hook.

"We need you to find what Mariah found. She didn’t have a chance to share it with the organization, but it must have been important, since it got her killed."

I frowned. "I really don't think I’m the person for this job."

"You are," she said with assurance. "I won't leave you in there all alone.”

"Gee, thanks," I said weakly. "That makes me feel a lot better."

“You have a job interview tomorrow," she informed me.

"An interview?"

"Knight Fights is a large organization," she said. "They have a robust human resources department since they have arenas in 40 states."

"I have no experience," I pointed out.

"You won't need much," she told me. "You're going to interview for a serving job. You're going to be hired."

"Because the person in human resources is on your payroll?" I asked.

"Because we have leverage against the person doing the hiring," she said with ice in her tone. Her silent message was that she had leverage against me, too. "You go in tomorrow and you'll get the job. You start the next day."

"I’m really not sure this is a good—" I began to protest.

"It's settled," Ms. Whitehat said. "You can go now." Her signal that the conversation was ended couldn't be clearer.

Shaking my head, I stood up from the table and walked out of the café. Nat was leaning against his truck when I emerged from the building.

"You okay?" he asked, searching my face.

I shrugged.

"It'll be okay," he assured me.

"I hope so," I told him doubtfully. "I don't want to become a human shish kebab."

We were silent as he drove me home.

"You seem more nervous than usual," he commented as he pulled into the driveway of my home.

"It's not every day you see someone with a sword driven through them," I muttered. "And now, I have to go back there…"

Before I could respond, Alejandro, the llama, galloped full speed toward his truck.

Nat slammed on the brakes. "What the heck⁠—"

I rolled down my window and called, "What's wrong?"

"Herschel is fighting!" the llama whistled worriedly.

"Drive!" I told Nat, not even bothering to ask who my grandfather was battling.

He stomped on the accelerator, and we flew down the rest of the length of the driveway. As we approached the house, I realized that Alejandro had not been exaggerating about my grandfather being in a fight.

He was swinging a pitchfork.

Nat hadn’t even brought his truck to a complete stop when I leapt out. "Hey!" I bellowed. "Stop it!"

My grandfather, and the man he was facing off with, both turned to look at me.

"What's going on here?" I asked Herschel, hurrying to put myself between him and his opponent.

"He's a thief!" Herschel said, jabbing the pitchfork at the man standing across from him.

The man, dressed in dirty jeans, a torn flannel shirt, and a worn straw hat, spit what appeared to be a cud of tobacco toward me.

"Look, mister," I said, trying to defuse the situation. “I don't know who you are or what you’re doing here, but you’re going to have to leave.”

"He's the thief!" the man rebutted.

"Don't let them take me, Maggie," a voice, loaded with fear, bleated pitifully.

I turned to see that Billy, the goat, had a rope looped around his neck and was tied to the bumper of the unfamiliar pickup truck parked in the driveway. Usually, he was an acidic combatant, but at the moment, he looked meek and broken.

"I'm sure we can work this all out," I said firmly. “It would help if somebody could tell me what's going on."

"Away chase him I’ll," DeeDee barked.

I glanced toward the barn and saw that the Doberman pinscher was standing in the doorway. She’d bared her teeth, indicating she was serious about the offer. I knew instinctively that she was not budging from her post of guarding the children's classroom, and I couldn't help but smile at her dedication to her job.

"He stole my goat!" the man in the straw hat said indignantly.

I looked at Herschel, expecting for him to argue.

"You were neglecting him," my grandfather said. "He was starving."

"It’s a goat," the man spat out. "Their very nature ensures they can't starve."

"You had him chained up," Herschel argued. "All I did was free him."

Even though I had turned my attention to my grandfather as he spoke, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Nat slowly walked behind the man, no doubt getting ready to tackle him if the situation escalated.

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of an agreement on how to settle this," I said carefully.

I was a little worried that my grandfather was guilty of stealing livestock. I had no idea what the legal repercussions of that could be in the state of New Jersey, and I didn't want to find out.

"What if we write you a check?" I offered the man.

He stared at me.

"What is a goat worth?" I asked him.

He narrowed his gaze, and I could see that he was doing some sort of mental calculation. I knew that he was looking to take advantage of our negotiation, and I forced myself to just accept whatever he was going to say. It was just money.

"A thousand dollars."

I swallowed hard, knowing that I was getting the raw end of the deal. "Fine."

"You can't pay that for a goat," Herschel said indignantly. "That's highway robbery."

The man crossed his arms over his chest and spit again. The rancid, brown pile of chewed leaves leaked a vile brown liquid.

"I will pay that for family," I said firmly. "But I don't have that kind of cash on hand, will you take a check?"

He shook his head. "Only cold hard cash. Otherwise, I'm calling the cops."

I looked to Herschel. "I don't suppose you have that much cash on hand?"

He shook his head.

"Somebody save me!" Billy bleated.

"I got it," Nat said softly.

I glanced over at him, surprised. He walked over to his truck, opened the passenger door, reached into the glove box and pulled out a wad of bills. He counted out the required amount and strode over to hand the money to the man.

As he held out the cash, he murmured something very softly to the man that I couldn't hear. Whatever he said, seemed to frighten the other guy. He snatched the money and practically ran for his pickup truck.

"Leave the goat," Nat called after him.

The man untied Billy, then jumped in his truck and sped away.

"Thanks," Herschel told Nat. "You're a good guy."

He grabbed the rope still looped around Billy's neck and gently led him toward the barn.

"Thanks for that," I told Nat.

He shrugged. "You didn't need the distraction."

"Guarding!" DeeDee barked as though she felt it necessary to remind me that she was being vigilant.

"You’re doing a great job!" I called out to her

"You're going to do a great job,” Nat said quietly. "I just know it."

I wish I had his faith in my abilities. I was worried that I would end up with a sword sticking out of my chest, too.

7

"Ready to get to work?"

I squinted over my steaming coffee cup at the man who asked me the question the next morning.

"What work?" Armani asked curiously. She was sitting beside me eating oatmeal topped with chopped garlic and sardines.

It smelled as disgusting as it sounds.

"Maggie and I have a case," Griswald said excitedly.

"Actually, Maggie has a job interview," I corrected.

Griswald, Armani, and even Templeton, who was busy at the stove, all stared at me.

"Really?" Armani asked.

I nodded.

"Where?" My friend wanted to know.

I gripped my coffee mug tighter and shook my head. "No. Every time I get a job, I tell you guys where it is, and somebody shows up to,” I made air quotes, “visit me. Not this time.”

"But—" Armani began.

"Leave her be," Templeton interjected firmly.

"What time is the interview?" Griswald asked.

"Ten," I told him.

"Good, then you should be done in plenty of time for our first meeting."

I eyed him suspiciously. "What kind of meeting?"

"We’re going to meet with one of the first victims."

"Victims of what?" Armani asked with alarm.

"Possible break-ins in the area," Griswald admitted. "Brian seems to think there might be something to them, and I’d like to prove that there's not."

Armani frowned and didn’t bother to hide her jealousy when she spoke. "Mysterious interviews. Meetings with possible crime victims. Do you have any idea what my day will consist of?"

"I know!" Templeton called, raising his hand and waving it like a kid who needs permission to leave the classroom to go to the restroom.

"Inventory," Armani groaned. "Do you have any idea how boring doing inventory is?"

I nodded sympathetically. I'd helped Aunt Loretta at the lingerie shop many times with the task. Not only was it boring, but it tended to be embarrassing, since Loretta liked to tell stories about her sexual escapades based on whatever item is being tracked.

"I offered to come down and help," Templeton complained. "But I was turned down. Any idea why?"

Armani shot him a look and then turned her attention to me worriedly. I could tell that she didn't want to answer. To save her, I changed the subject. “What time is our meeting?” I asked Griswald.

Armani shoveled more garlic sardine oatmeal into her mouth.

He beamed, thinking I was suddenly interested in our investigation. “Two," he said. "We can leave here at quarter of."

"Okay," I agreed.

"See if you can find your cat while you're at it," Templeton suggested.

I glanced at him and saw frown lines forming between his brows.

"She's disappearing again," he informed me.

I nodded. I’d noticed that she left DeeDee to guard the children in the classroom alone the day before. I’d mentioned it when she had finally returned in the evening. I'd asked where she had been, and she had replied that she was visiting the old man down the street. But I couldn't tell Templeton any of that.

"You shouldn't take it personally," I told him instead.

"I just worry about her," he murmured.

“I'm worried about Maggie," Armani announced.

Griswald squinted at me, suddenly alarmed. "Why?"

"Because I think she's cursed," Armani said. "She has terrible luck."

Griswald sat back in his seat, relaxing a little. "She does, but somehow, she always seems to make the best of it."

"And on that note,” I said, getting up from the table, clutching my coffee cup so that nobody could take it away from me, “I'm going to go get dressed for my interview." I retreated to my room, and leaned against my dresser, suddenly exhausted.

"You’re not stressed, are you?" God asked. "You know you are guaranteed to get the job."

"It’s just that I don't want the job," I reminded him. "The last person who had it, died.”

"I don't know, I think it's kind of symbolic that you are going to be finishing her work,” the lizard argued.

I shook my head and pulled out a pair of jeans and a polo shirt to wear to be interviewed. I had no idea how someone was supposed to dress for a behind-the-scenes job at Knight Fights. I was guessing casual was acceptable.

"Can I go? Can I go? Can I go?" a little voice squeaked.

I glanced over at Benny, the little white mouse who was watching us from his cage.

"It's just an interview," I told him.

"I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored," he complained.

I nodded sympathetically. Living one’s life in a cage had to be boring. It was one of the reasons I was so afraid of going to prison for my crimes.

"Okay," I told him. "You can come along, but if you find that it’s boring, I don't want to hear about it."

"Yippee! Yippee! Yippee!"

"I think you're going to have to have a talk with Piss," God said. “She can’t just go wandering off whenever the mood strikes her. She has responsibilities here.”

As I changed clothes, I reminded him, “She’s a cat.”

"She can't just go abandoning the family every time she feels like it," the lizard continued.

"She didn't abandon anybody," I argued.

"She left DeeDee alone to guard the girls," he reminded me.

I shook my head. "It's not like DeeDee was alone. She had Alejandro and Percival and Irma and Billy and Matilda, and even Rowdy would help in a pinch, I'm sure.”

"But she’s supposed to be the brains of the operation when I'm not here," God said.

That made Benny titter.

I smiled at the mouse. "Do not tell Piss that he just said that."

"Okay okay, okay," he agreed.

"I don't understand why that was funny," God said.

"Probably because your superior sense of self is amusing to most of us," I said.

"But I am the smartest," he argued. "Only an idiot wouldn’t agree with that. And the feline is the second…albeit a distant second."

"You need to learn to not say those things out loud," I chastised.

“They’re true,” he argued.

I gave him a hard look.

He stuck his tongue out at me. “My point was," he sighed with exasperation, "that she can't leave the others on their own all the time. We’re counting on her guidance when I'm not here."

"So," I asked the lizard lightly. "If you are first and she second, what does that make me?"

Because he really is the smartest, he knew well enough not to answer.

I drummed on the steering wheel of my car as I drove over to the Knight Fights arena. I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't know what I was interviewing for, I didn't really understand what Ms. Whitehat wanted from me, and I didn't know how to get out of the investigation with Griswald. Basically, I was feeling like an incompetent mess. What else was new?

8

As instructed, I drove around to the back of the Knight Fights arena. I climbed out of my car, with a lizard in my bra and a mouse in my pocketbook.

I walked to the rear door labeled Staff Only and gave it a tug. To my surprise, it opened.

I shuffled tentatively down a dark narrow hallway. The floor was dirty, and the fluorescent lights flickered. "This is creepy," I muttered under my breath.

"Don't let your nerves get the better of you," God warned. "You've got this."

"Maggie! Maggie! Maggie!" Benny squeaked from my purse.

I couldn’t help but grin, not everyone carried a personal cheerleader around in their handbag.

“What is that stench?" God asked after I'd walked a little further down the creepy hallway.

"I'm thinking it's the horses," I told him.

"Stinky vile creatures," he muttered.

"Maybe not complain about anybody while you're here," I suggested.

“Hey!" a man with a deep voice called out roughly.

I froze and fought the urge to hold my hands up in the universal sign of surrender. Instead, I tightened my grip on my bag and turned to face him slowly. "Hey."

“Who are you?" The man, wearing what appeared to be a blacksmith’s apron and carrying an oversized hammer, stared at me distrustfully.

"I'm here to interview for a job," I told him.

"Oh yeah. Petunia told me you were coming. Go down that way and make the first right. You can't miss Petunia." With that, he turned and walked away.

I watched him go for a moment and forced myself to relax my grip on the handle of the bag that contained Benny. Squaring my shoulders, I marched in the direction that the blacksmith had indicated. I hadn't gone ten steps when two women jumped into my path.

"Who are you?" the one in a bloodstained apron demanded.

I was starting to think that I should have borrowed one of Aunt Susan’s aprons for the interview. I forced myself to smile at them politely. "I'm here to interview for a job," I said in as mild a tone as I could manage. "Are either of you, by any chance, Petunia?"

The other woman, who was carrying what appeared to be a giant box of carrots, laughed as she shook her head.

"That way, first right," the bloodstained apron woman declared.

They pushed past me and hurried on their way.

"Do you think the staff is always this friendly?" I muttered under my breath.

"Maybe they're on edge because one of their coworkers was recently murdered," God suggested.

"But I don't look like a murderer," I protested.

"But you are a murderer," he reminded me. “A well-compensated one, in fact.”

His mention of compensation made me think of my mother, and I felt a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t been to visit her in the mental health facility where she resides in a while. I might be a well-compensated assassin, but I certainly wasn’t the best daughter. I finally reached the turn that I had to make and encountered yet another employee.

A large well-muscled man wearing a leather vest, no shirt, and leather pants blocked my way.

"Hi," I said, flashing my fake smile. "I'm here for a job interview with Petunia. Any idea where I could find her?"

His gaze narrowed and he sneered.

I waited a long moment, but he said nothing. I tried again.

"I was told that I should come down here to find her," I said, trying to sound both timid and confused.

"You want Petunia?" he snarled. He leaned closer, as though he was searching for a lie, looking me up and down.

I leaned backward, but didn’t actually step back, as I nodded. "To apply for a job?" It came out like a question because he was starting to make me very nervous. I did my best to hang on to my faux grin and fought the urge to fight or flee.

“You're hired," he growled.

"Awesome," I said weakly. "But I really think I need to⁠—"

"I'm Petunia," he revealed. His eyes held the challenge as he waited for my response.

"Cool," was all that I said. "Is there paperwork or…"

He shook his head. "You start tomorrow. Be here at nine to start training."

I nodded, wondering if this was some sort of punking exercise set up by Ms. Whitehat.

"You can go now," Petunia told me.

Deciding that it wasn't wise to argue with such a huge, hostile man, I nodded, flashed the remnants of the smile at him and said, "It was nice to meet you. Thank you for your time." With that, holding my back ramrod straight, I pivoted on my heel and retraced my steps, fighting the urge to break into a full run to get to the exit door.

I'd almost reached the door when someone, just about my height and wearing a plague doctor mask, like the killer of the princess had worn, stepped into my path.

I slammed on my internal brakes and balled my hands into fists. Eyes, nose, throat, groin, I thought, remembering the self-defense lesson my murder mentor had drilled into me.

"You a newbie?" a man asked, his words muffled slightly by the mask that covered his face.

Remembering that I was there on assignment, I maintained my fake persona and smiled at him. "I start tomorrow."

"Take some painkillers," the man said.

I blinked at him, trying to figure out if that was code for something.

"The first few days are really rough, physically," he explained. "The average person doesn't make it through the training period. It’s hard work and hurts too much."

"Oh,” I said, the alarm in my voice genuine.

"Take some painkillers before you head into work," he reiterated. "That way, you will have a better chance of making it through the day."

I desperately wanted to ask what was going to cause so much pain in the training, but didn't think it was the best idea.

He extended his hand. Unlike the killer, he was not wearing gloves. His palm was rough and calloused. "I'm Adam."

I hesitated, realizing I hadn't asked Ms. Whitehat what name she'd set up for me for this undercover assignment.

"Sorry," Adam said, misreading my hesitation. "Easy to forget how scary this thing is.” With his free hand he pulled off the plague mask. He was in his early twenties, blonde, with cheeks flushed pink from the heat of the mask and an almost cherubic smile.

"Nice to meet you, Adam," I said, recovering. "I appreciate the advice."

"Adam!" Petunia boomed from behind me.

We both jumped, slightly startled, as we turned to look at the big man. "Let Betsy go and get back to work."

Adam immediately dropped my hand and pulled his mask back on. He hurried away, murmuring, "Sorry, boss."

I glanced back at Petunia.

His expression was unreadable. "See you tomorrow, Betsy."

I nodded, and he strode off.

Taking a shaky breath, I made a beeline for the exit door.

"Sounds like you're in for a rough couple of days," God remarked as I climbed back into my car.

"Why would you say that?" I asked. "Just because training is supposed to cause pain, I'm searching for evidence for I don’t know what, and I have to evade a murderer while working undercover?"

"You can do it! You can do it! You can do it!" Benny squeaked.

He had a lot more faith in me than I did.

9

I had barely gotten Benny situated in his cage when there was a knock at my bedroom door. Frowning, I walked over and pulled it open.

"Now are you ready?" Griswald asked expectantly.

"I guess," I said grudgingly. I really didn't want to be helping him with this investigation.

"I appreciate it," he said as I followed him out of the house. “I really need a second set of eyes on this one."

"Why?" I asked.

He glanced at me, surprised by the question. "I don't think Brian would've asked me to look into it unless he thought there really is something to it."

"Probably not," I agreed easily.

"Besides, the other cases you worked all turned out successfully," he reminded me.

"You could've asked Hunting for help," I reminded him, secretly hoping that he changed his mind and asked Nat for assistance and let me off the hook.

"He said he's working another job," Griswald revealed.

"So, you did ask him and I’m your second choice?"

He shrugged. "You're only my second choice because my wife doesn't approve of you and I working together. She worries about you. She's afraid you could end up getting hurt."

"If she only knew," God piped up from my bra.

"Otherwise, you’d always be my first choice, Maggie," Griswald said.

My heart swelled a little.

We got into his car and drove down the street. "I'll do the talking," he said. "I just need you to take a look around and see if you notice anything out of place or suspicious."

"I can do that," I assured him.

When we’d driven less than a quarter of a mile down the road, he pulled off into one of the driveways. "This is supposed to be the first house that was hit," he revealed.

I looked at the split-level home. There was nothing special about it. It wasn't the nicest home on the block, nor was it the worst. It didn't look like the kind of place that would have much that was worth stealing, in my opinion. Then again, I am a semi-professional assassin, not a professional thief, so what did I know?

We got out of the car, and I followed Griswald to the front door. He rang the bell, and we stood, staring off into space, trying to look casual.

An older man opened the door. "I don't want any," he said. "And I already know I'm going straight to hell.”

I chuckled, thinking it was probably the same exact way I would've answered the door if I wanted to dissuade salespeople or religious zealots.

The man stared at me, while Griswald made his introduction.

"Mr. Pierre? I'm Lawrence Griswald, I believe that my nephew, Detective Brian Griswald, told you that I'd be stopping by?"

The old man nodded curtly, not taking his eyes off me.

"As I'm sure Detective Griswald told you," Griswald continued resolutely, "I'm helping him with his investigation into the string of robberies in the neighborhood."

"And who are you?" the old man asked me.

"I am Mr. Griswald's assistant," I lied smoothly.

"Why did you laugh?” he asked. "When I answered the door, why did you laugh?"

Griswald shot me a disapproving look, making it clear I’d disappointed him with my lack of decorum.

"I'm not a professional investigator, Mr. Pierre," I told him. “I'm sorry if my reaction offended you. I just figured that if I had seen the two of us standing on your doorstep, I would've assumed we were selling goods or God, too."

He nodded approvingly, indicating he liked the answer. "Come in." He stood aside and ushered us into his home.

The place looked like a time capsule for the 1970s. I particularly disliked the faded orange and brown shag carpeting.

"If you could just tell us, in your own words, what happened," Griswald began.

"Who else's words would I have used?" Pierre asked with irritation.

I tried to swallow my smile, but I could feel my cheeks rising.

"Somebody stole my lucky quarter," Pierre stated.

"Your lucky quarter?" Griswald repeated with disbelief.

"It's what I told the police and that's what I told you… In my own words," the other man replied testily.

Griswald shot me a look and I could tell that he had no idea how to deal with the crotchety old man.

"They took it from where?" I asked.

"Over here." The old man walked over to a shelf beside a window on the other side of the room.

As we followed him over, Griswald motioned for me to walk in front, since I seemed to have a better rapport with our crime victim.

“They ripped right through the screen to get it.”

I looked at the torn screening and then the shelf, noting that the dust that had surrounded the missing quarter had been there for a long time.

"Do you have any idea who might've taken it?" Griswald asked from behind me.

"If I knew that I wouldn’t have called the police," the man snarled.

"Do you have any pictures of your lucky quarter?" I asked.

Pierre looked at me strangely. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Could we see them?" I asked as sweetly as I could manage.

He nodded. "Wait here." He shuffled out of the room.

"He likes you," Griswald remarked.

“I have a way with crotchety old men," I whispered back.

Griswald smirked. "I'm guessing you think I'm one of those."

"You may have your moments," I told him.

He was chuckling when Pierre returned to the room.

"Here it is." He held out an old photograph, faded and worn with time. A much younger version of himself stood beside a similarly aged woman, they held the quarter between them.

"She’s beautiful," I murmured with appreciation.

"That’s my Donna," he admitted. Considering the amount of dust that coated everything in sight, I sincerely doubted that his Donna was still around.

"Any idea what the value of it was?" Griswald asked.

"It's priceless,” the man said, his voice cracking. His gaze strayed to the place where it belonged.

I nodded my understanding.

"If I can take a picture of your photograph," Griswald said. "Maggie and I can check out the local pawn shops, maybe get lucky and find it."

The older man glanced at Griswald. "It’s a quarter.”

Griswald nodded. “But it’s older, so someone might have believed it to be a collectible.”

Feeling the need to put Griswald in a better light, I added gently, "The police have multiple cases they’re working. Sometimes things fall through the cracks."

The old man nodded and held the framed photograph out to me. I held it, while Griswald took a couple shots with his phone of the print.

He handed Pierre a business card. "If you think of anything that might be helpful, please don't hesitate to get in touch."

I handed the old man back his prized picture. "Thank you for your time."

"You're going to find it, aren't you?" he asked with sudden intensity, his gaze boring into mine.

I swallowed hard, not wanting to make a promise I couldn't keep. "We're going to try," I pledged. "But I can't make any promises."

He nodded his understanding and then repeated, "You're going to find it."

He walked us to the door, and watched as we climbed back into Griswald's car.

"You know we are not going to find it, right?" Griswald asked as he started the engine.

"I know," I replied. "There isn't much chance that we will, but I just wanted to give him some hope."

"Everyone needs hope."

10

I wasn't sure how I should be dressed for the job I hadn't really interviewed for. I settled on black pants and a long sleeve black shirt, figuring it was one of the more neutral outfits I could put together.

"You look like you're preparing to audition for a ninja job," God remarked. He was lounging on his driftwood, watching me get dressed.

"Well, considering I don't even know what job Whitehat signed me up for, I figured this couldn't be totally wrong."

"Good point," the lizard conceded. "She's really throwing you in there blind."

I nodded, gritting my teeth. I wasn't pleased with how quickly this whole thing was progressing and how little information I had.

There was a brief knock at my door and Templeton whispered, "Breakfast is ready."

"I'll be right there," I called back.

I’d confided to him the night before that I had a job that I had to get to on the earlier side, and he’d promised to have breakfast ready in plenty of time for me.

I hurried to the kitchen, accompanied by Piss and DeeDee. The cat waited for Templeton to pour her cream, and the dog gobbled up the bowl of kibble that I filled. As soon as they were done eating, I let them both outside and then settled in my seat at the table. Templeton had already poured a mug of coffee for me, and he reached into the oven to pull out whatever the morning's breakfast treat would be.

Before he could serve it, Griswald strolled in. "I was thinking we could split the pawn shops," he said as a greeting.

"Can’t. I got a job," I told him.

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

I nodded. Bracing myself for him to ask where and doing what, I said quickly, "And I'm not going to talk about it."

An amused smile played on his lips, but he did me the courtesy of not asking any more about it.

"Okay, I'll take care of the pawn shops."

I nodded and smiled up at Templeton as he slid a hefty slice of veggie-laden breakfast casserole in front of me. "Thank you," I murmured gratefully.

"You gotta keep your strength up," he said, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Breakfast?" he asked Griswald.

"Just coffee for me," Griswald said.

As Templeton went to grab him a cup, the retired law enforcement officer leaned closer. "At least tell me your job is above board."

"It is," I told him. That wasn’t a lie. I would be doing "real" work. I just left out the part where I was also working with Ms. Whitehat. Not that I should've had to, she and Griswald have some sort of working relationship that I didn't quite understand.

Aunt Susan burst in and gave me a stern look. "Margaret, I need you to⁠—"

I held up a hand to silence her. "I'm starting my new job today."

She blinked. "Really?"

She sounded so much like her husband just had, that I chuckled. "Really."

"Oh," she said. "Then I guess I can ask you to⁠—"

"No," Griswald said firmly. "You can't. She’s got her job and she's helping me out on my case. We’re not asking anything else of her."

"Fine!" Susan turned around and flounced out of the kitchen.

"You didn't have to do that," I told Griswald. "I could have handled it myself. Now, she's going to be upset with you."

"Sometimes I think that your aunt lives to be upset with me," he confided. “But I love her anyway."

I finished breakfast and then went outside to remind the animals that I would be gone all day. DeeDee had managed to get into Irma's paddock and was chasing the donkey, playfully woofing at her.

"Guys!" I called, trying to get their attention.

The Doberman and the donkey trotted over to me. The goat, who'd been standing in the corner munching on some hay, just turned a baleful eye in my direction. You’d think, since I’d saved him from the tobacco-spitting man, that he’d be a bit more responsive, but he was an independent beast.

"I'm going to be gone all day," I reminded them. “I’ve got a job to do."

"Guard will kids I the," DeeDee pledged.

"Thanks," I said, reaching through the fence to pat the dog's head. Looking around, I realized that the cat was nowhere in sight. "Where’s Piss?"

"Visiting her friend," Mike cawed from above.

I glanced up at the crow in a nearby tree. "Morning, Mike."

"You really should go meet him, toots," the crow declared before flapping his wings and flying off.

"I should," I admitted to nobody in particular. "But not today. My dance card is full."

I climbed into my car, put the lizard on the dashboard, and began to drive toward the Knight Fights arena.

"Nervous?" God asked.

"Apprehensive," I admitted. "I feel like I'm in over my head because I have no idea what's going on."

"What else is new?"

We drove the rest of the way to my assignment in silence. As I pulled into the parking lot, I told him, "You're going to have to stay quiet for this one. No snide commentary."

"I plan on napping through most of this one," he told me.

I tucked him into my bra, wiped my palms, which were damp with nervous perspiration, on my pants, and climbed out of the car. I hadn't even reached the Staff Only door, when I heard, "Betsy!"

I reached for the door handle

"Betsy!" the voice called again more insistently.

"That's you," God reminded me. "Not that I said anything."

Wincing that I'd forgotten my undercover identity, I turned in the direction of the voice and found Adam, the wearer of the plague mask, hurrying toward me.

"You take painkillers?" he asked.

"I forgot," I admitted.

"First day jitters," he guessed. "You'll be so sore tomorrow, you won't forget again."

"Good to know," I told him. I tried not to stare at his flushed cheeks as I wondered how old he was. He looked to be about twelve, but I doubted they hired anyone under eighteen, or maybe even twenty-one, considering alcohol was served at this place. His blonde hair was matted with sweat. "Are you okay?"

“Oh yeah," he said with a wide smile. "I am an understudy knight." He puffed out his chest with pride.

"Sorry," I told him. "I don't know what that means."

"If something happens to one of the knights, if they get sick or something, or don’t show up for their shift, there's a chance that I could perform in the show," he explained excitedly. "So, I train with them. I train with the knights, shooting and jousting and bladework."

I nodded my understanding.

“We just finished our horseback riding session."

"Oh," I said, unsure of how else to respond.

"It was awesome," Adam confided.

"You choosing to stay out here all day?" a deep voice growled.

Turning, I found that Petunia was standing behind us, arms crossed over his chest, waiting to get into the building. For a big man, he moved quietly.

Adam reached past me and pulled the door open. He waved me through with a slight bow, like a knight being gallant. I hurried down the dark smelly hallway, keenly aware that the junior knight was following me, so it wasn’t a good time to snoop. When I reached the turn toward his office, I hesitated and looked back at Petunia, who was bringing up the rear of our little trio.

"In my office," he confirmed. "Adam, go find Curt. He's looking for you."

"Do I have to?" Adam whined.

"Only if you want to keep your job," Petunia told him.

Nodding his understanding, Adam said, "See ya, Betsy," before jogging off in the opposite direction.

I walked into the office that Petunia indicated and looked around. It was chaos. Piles of files were stacked everywhere. The big man stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Suddenly, I felt trapped and like the walls were closing in on me. I wasn't too sure that the whole eyes, nose, throat, groin thing would even work on someone his size.

"I couldn't make you a princess," he admitted. "In a perfect world, I would've been able to slot you right into Blue’s place, but there's a pecking order."

I nodded as though I understood what he was talking about.

"So, you'll have to start as a serving wench," he told me.

"Great," I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. "That's just what I always wanted to be."

He chuckled softly. "Let's just hope you are as good as I've heard," he said softly.

I blinked, unsure what that meant. I wanted to ask if he, too, worked for Whitehat's organization, but if he didn't, I'd be giving up my secret. I kept my mouth shut.

"Petunia?" a young woman called from the other side of the door.

The big man rolled his eyes, shook his head, and then said, "Come in, Ellie."

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. In her early twenties, she had a waiflike appearance and an idiot-like facial expression.

"Ellie, this is Betsy," Petunia said with exaggerated patience. "I need you to show her the ropes."

"What ropes?" Ellie asked, wide-eyed.

"I need you to show her how to do your job." He spoke slowly, enunciating his words. I didn't think it was a coincidence that every word he'd chosen was only one syllable.

"Oh, sure!" She beamed. "I can do that."

"Then go," Petunia said, clearly at the end of his rope with her.

Ellie waited for me to follow her and then practically skipped out of the office. I glanced back at the man who'd given me the assignment.

He shook his head and said softly, "Just make the best of it."

I followed her out into the hallway.

"Working here is so much fun!" Ellie declared.

I doubted that.

11

As I followed Ellie toward the kitchen area, I kept looking around, searching for a place that someone might hide something. Nothing jumped out at me. There were a million nooks and crevices and searching them all was going to take a long time.

"You're taking Judy’s place," Ellie announced.

"Judy?"

"She got bumped up to the Blue Princess slot," Ellie explained.

"Good for her," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

"Good for her, bad for Mariah."

"Why?" I asked carefully.

"Because she died," Ellie said.

"Was she the one on the news?" I asked.

Ellie nodded and looked genuinely sad.

"Did you see it?" I asked.

She shook her head. “I was working meal prep. She should have been in the kitchen, too. Maybe if she’d been doing her job, she wouldn’t have died.”

Considering she'd been chased through the venue, I didn't think it mattered where Mariah had been.

"Ellie belly," a man boomed.

Ellie wrinkled her nose with distaste. "Hi, Jonah."

A man in his late thirties stepped out of the shadows. Tall, and lanky, he juggled three balls as he stood there. "Who's your friend?"

"Betsy, this is Jonah," Ellie introduced grudgingly. "He's the show’s jester."

"Hi," I said noncommittally.

He tossed the ball at me and, instinctively, I caught it.

"Good reflexes," he approved.

I was pretty sure that I heard God chuckle softly in his hiding place in my bra.

I tossed the ball back to the man.

“If you want lessons,” he offered with a leering smile, “I could teach you.”

Ellie grabbed my forearm and yanked me closer to her. "I'm supposed to be training her. We have to go." She practically dragged me along as we walked away from him."He's a creeper," she warned as soon as we were out of his hearing distance. "Try not to get caught alone with him."

"Thanks for the heads up," I murmured. I glanced over my shoulder at the man who was still standing there, watching us and juggling. "What did Mariah think of Jonah?" I asked, trying to sound casual, wondering whether or not he was her murderer.

"Nobody likes Jonah," she said firmly. “He's the owner's nephew, though, so we have to be nice to him. Just not too nice."

We walked into the kitchen area, a huge expanse of counters and stoves. The cooking staff was already doing their prep work.

"This is the kitchen," Ellie said as though I couldn't figure that out for myself.

"It's big," I said because I didn't know how else to respond.

"It's an efficiently run machine," she said, no doubt quoting what somebody had told her. She led me to a wide hallway. “This is where we do our pickups.” She pointed to all the numbered slots on rolling shelves. "You've got area forty-six. It’s in the blue zone of course."

"Forty-six," I repeated.

"I'll show you where that is."

I followed her down another hallway, the floor of which was sticky. I wondered if that was a health hazard. Maybe all I needed to do was call the health department, have them shut the place down, and then we could go over every inch of it until we found whatever Mariah was believed to have hidden.

"Morning, Ellie!" a voice called.

She turned and smiled at the caller. "Good morning, Curt."

A man in jeans and a flannel shirt smiled back at her. "How are you today?"

"I'm great," Ellie said enthusiastically. "Meet Betsy, she's the new serving wench."

I did my best not to wince at the title.

"Nice to meet you, Betsy.” He closed the distance between us and shook my hand. "I'm Curt. The pyro guy."

"Pyro guy?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm in charge of the Dragon and the fireworks. Basically, anything that lights up and goes boom," he said with a self-effacing chuckle.

"He's very good at what he does," Ellie said. “He creates and ships the fireworks for all of the Knight Fights locations around the country. He’s the best!”

"I'm sure he is," I murmured.

"Well, I will let you ladies get on with your training," he said with a slight bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Betsy." Whistling under his breath, he strolled away.

"Not a creeper," Ellie told me.

From her tone, and expression, my guess was that she was a bit infatuated with the pyro guy. She led the way through another hallway, and we passed through a swinging door into the seating area of the arena. It smelled like stale beer, sweat, and horse manure. I did my best not to wrinkle my nose in disgust.

“Revolting," God muttered softly.

"Your section is up here," Ellie said, leading me up a flight of stairs and pointing to the right. "You serve the Blue Princess."

I had no idea what that meant, but I wasn't going to ask her to explain it to me. I figured if I went home, I could probably Google the attraction and get a better answer.

"Look out!" a voice warned. Instinctively, I hit the ground as something came swooping toward my head.

A pair of terrible screams filled the air. “Die!”

“Die a painful death!”

“It’s just the falcons,” Ellie giggled, hooking a hand under my elbow and dragging me back to a standing position.

“Be afraid!” one of the falcons screeched as it whizzed by. “Be very afraid!” She cackled, which just sounded like a falcon’s scream to anyone else.

“Drama queen!” the other bird complained, flying after her companion.

I wasn’t sure if she was talking about me or the other bird.

Hearing a whistle, I looked to the center of the arena and saw a man, his arm wrapped in leather, waiting for the falcons to land on him.

“That’s Heath,” Ellie explained. “He’s the bird handler. He doesn’t talk to people.”

I watched as the falcons landed in tandem on his outstretched arm. “Hi!” I shouted. “I’m Mag⁠—”

“Betsy!” God interrupted.

“I’m Betsy!” I corrected.

The falconer walked away as though he hadn’t heard me.

“He really doesn’t like people,” Ellie stressed. “You should avoid him. Avoid him and avoid Jonah, if you can.”

“Sounds like it’s a challenging work environment,” I said quietly. “Did Mariah ever complain about anyone?”

“Only Lorna.” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Who’s Lorna?”

“The Blue Queen. She⁠—”

The rest of Ellie’s explanation was drowned out as the trumpeting of horns and the thundering of hooves filled the arena. Half a dozen knights in full armor rode their galloping horses in. If Aunt Loretta had been present I’m pretty sure she would have swooned at the majestic sight.

As soon as the horses were reined to a stop, the men began arguing.

A cacophony of “Too fast!”, “Too slow!”, “Stay in your own lane!” and “Idiot!” erupted from the men.

“Welcome to Knight Fights,” Ellie murmured tiredly.

12

Four hours later, I understood why Adam had stressed the importance of taking painkillers. Every muscle in my body was screaming in agony.

I spent the whole morning carrying wide trays loaded with ridiculous amounts of fake food up and down through section forty-six. Not only did I have to heft the weighted trays high, but I had to keep them level, in order not to spill anything. I'd made a bunch of spills and now understood why the hallway with sticky.

"Lunch break!" Ellie declared after what felt like my millionth trip.

"You can leave your tray there." She pointed to a table by the arena floor and then scurried away.

I carefully carried the tray over to where she'd indicated and gingerly put it down. I knew that I should be searching for whatever Mariah had found. I probably wouldn't get another opportunity like this one, but I was too tired. I sank into the nearest seat and closed my eyes. I only opened them when I heard the clip-clop of hooves approaching.

A lone knight, his mask closed so I couldn't see his face, approached on his horse. I waved a hand and smiled weakly. He saluted me but said nothing.

Ellie had mentioned that there was a Silent Knight, one who’s entire schtick was not speaking. I was guessing this was him.

Suddenly, another horse entered the arena. This one was riderless. As he approached the center of the ring, he began to bounce his head like a person listening to music.

I looked around, trying to decide if I was being punked as the new employee, but I found nobody watching me except the Silent Knight.

Then, to my amazement, the gray riderless horse began to dance. He performed what looked like some sort of complicated tango. He took three steps forward, two steps back, turned to the right, and dipped to the left. It was amazing.

"They're going to catch you, Fred," the Silent Knight’s horse warned on a soft snicker.

"I just want to dance!" the gray horse whinnied.

I sat up in my seat so that I could watch him better. The Silent Knight turned to observe the show. Fred, the horse, pranced and twirled across the arena's floor, kicking up dust and having a joyful time.

God, curious as to what was going on, pulled himself up my bra strap and peeked out. "What athleticism, what grace!" he declared with amazement as we watched the equine equivalent of Fred Astaire.

We watched with rapt attention until the dance was over, and the horse bowed in our direction.

I jumped to my feet, clapping.

"A standing ovation," the Silent Knight’s horse snorted. "She must be new. Don’t let it go to your head, Fred."

Realizing I was making a scene, I quickly sank back down into my seat, growing silent. Fred trotted out of the arena, tossing his mane proudly.

"That was pretty impressive," I told the Silent Knight.

He nodded.

"You really should be searching," God whispered to me.

Knowing he was right, I stood slowly and told the armored man, “I have to go get lunch.”

He nodded and jerked on the reins of his horse. They galloped away, leaving a cloud of swirling dust in their wake.

"And where do you think I should start searching?" I asked the lizard.

"The throne area," the lizard said without hesitation. I glanced at the other end of the arena, where the thrones for the king and queen’s court stood, unoccupied.

"Why there?"

"Because it's probably the last place a Blue Princess would have been before she got chased through the crowd and skewered," God said.

I nodded and began trudging in the direction of the ornate seating. Ellie had told me that everyone showed up in full costume about half an hour before the show was scheduled to begin and took their places. The lizard’s idea that this was where Mariah had been made logical sense.

I made my way to the smaller throne bedazzled with fake blue Topaz, assuming that's where the Blue Princess would have sat. Dropping to my knees, groaning from the effort, I searched beneath the chair but found nothing out of place. I used the chair to stand back up because my muscles hurt so much, and then plopped down into it, trying to see what Mariah would have seen if she'd been seated there.

"You're a long way from being invited to sit there," a woman said haughtily from behind me.

I turned, and found an older woman, wearing more makeup than even my Aunt Loretta, striding toward me.

"There's a pecking order," she explained. "We've all been through it. Serving wench, lady-in-waiting, princess, and moi."

“Moi," God mockingly whispered.

"I take it you're the Blue Queen?" I guessed. “Lorna?”

She sneered. “I am. And who are you?"

"Betsy," I said flatly. "The new serving wench."

"Congrats on getting the job," Lorna said, her eyes narrowing as she studied me. "I guess somebody benefited from Mariah’s death."

"Did you know her well?" I asked.

She shrugged. "How well do we really know anybody?"

"What did you think of her?"

She cocked her head to the side for a brief moment, considering the question. "She leapfrogged over the people who should have been eligible for her princess role," the Blue Queen said with a touch of bitterness. "That wasn't fair to people who have put in the time, the work."

I nodded my understanding. I wondered how much pull Ms. Whitehat had exerted to get her operative into the princess position.

"And she wasn't even, like, good at it," the queen confided. "She seemed distracted."

"By what?" I asked.

She frowned at me. "Why do you have so many questions?"

"Because I'm trying to figure out how to move up the ranks," I told her, trying to sound lighthearted.

"Well, murder got you your job," she said. “Maybe that's what’s got to be repeated."

With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off.

"There are some weird people here," God opined.

"These are people who make their living in the world of make-believe," I reminded him. "You didn't really expect normal, did you?"

"Makes you wonder why they didn't just put you in the princess slot, doesn't it?"

I frowned. That had occurred to me, too. Was this some sort of punishment from Ms. Whitehat? Or had she felt that it would be too obvious to replace one operative with another?

My cell phone buzzed, so I pulled it out and read a text message from Griswald. I groaned.

"What?" God asked.

"Griswald wants me to stop at one of the pawn shops on my way home," I revealed. “He had an emergency and couldn't get to it.”

"What kind of emergency?" the lizard wanted to know.

I typed that question to Griswald and waited for a response, but none came. "I hope everything's okay," I muttered aloud.

13

After another four hours of balancing fake food-laden trays, my arms and shoulders ached, my shins were bruised, and I was thoroughly exhausted.

“You did good," Ellie told me as I made my last run.

I looked at her doubtfully. "Really?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "You didn’t cry or even fall down the stairs."

"Was that a probability?" I asked, glancing down toward the arena.

"A lot of people do," she said. "Not me, because I was a high school cheerleader and I have fantastic balance."

"Good for you," I said.

"Tomorrow, you're going to get fitted for your costume," she said. “Then, you change back into your regular clothes and we’ll run through the other jobs you may have to do."

I gulped nervously. "What kind of other jobs?"

She grinned devilishly. "You'll see."

I frowned, wondering what fresh hell I'd be put through.

"Ta-ta!" She blew me an air kiss and then hurried away.

I stood there holding my tray of fake food, not quite sure what to do with it. I finally decided to leave it on the table where I'd been told I could put it during my lunch break. The thought of lunch made my stomach grumble, since I hadn't eaten.

"If they get into costume, there must be an area for them to change," God said. "Maybe you need to check it out."

"But I don't know where it is," I pointed out.

"It gives you a better excuse to search the premises," the lizard said. "Just wander around until you find it. If somebody questions you, just tell them that you got lost."

Knowing he was right, I sighed heavily, mentally told my stomach to be quiet, and began rambling through the back halls of Knight Fights. It was a strange place, a mixture of modern-day technology and Renaissance and medieval-era costuming and props. The whole place smelled like horses and spilled soda. At the moment, unidentifiable heavy-metal music was blasting from a far-off room.

"Probably the knights’ weight room," I muttered under my breath.

"What is?" God asked.

"The source of that noise," I told him.

"We should stay away, since there’s probably somebody in there," he said.

"Gee, thanks," I drawled sarcastically. "I couldn't have figured that out on my own."

"Grouchy, aren't you?"

I didn't bother to answer him. My whole body hurt, and I was starving, and now I was searching for what, I didn't know. I stepped into a room filled with the knights’ costumes. I walked up to one and knocked on the chest of the nearest set of armor, trying to determine what it was made out of. I was surprised that my knuckle stung from the impact. "This is heavy," I told the lizard.

"What did you think it was made out of? Aluminum foil like Katie's armor?" he snarked.

I continued searching through the room, looking for something out of place. Something that would've been the impetus for murder. I couldn't find it.

"I wonder where they keep the weapons," I pondered aloud.

"That would've been a good spot to hide it," the lizard argued. "Probably the most dangerous room in the place."

"Maybe," I murmured. "But then, it might be the last place anybody looked. I'm going to see if I can find it."

I slipped out of the armor-filled room and continued down the hallway. I could hear the horses over the pounding of the music. They weren't too far away, which made me think I was wandering deeper into the knights’ area. I found a darkened room where the door was closed. I cautiously pushed it open and reached inside, trying to find a light switch.

"Get out!" a voice shrieked. "Get out! Get out!"

I flipped on the switch and spotted the pair of falcons in an oversized cage that was filled with billowing mounds of straw.

"I mean you no harm," I told them.

"It's the new server that you frightened earlier, Pam," one of the birds told the other.

"Get out!" Pam screeched again.

"Chill out, Pam," I told the bird.

She twisted her head so far around, I thought it might pop off as she stared at me. "Dora, did she just call me…?”

"Pam," I told her firmly. "That's your name, isn't it?"

The bird's beak opened and she audibly gasped.

"I’m Maggie," I told her. “And this is God," I said, pointing to the lizard on my shoulder.

"Looks like lunch," Pam declared.

“He’s not lunch,” I told her firmly.

"She can talk to us," the other bird said in amazement. "She understands us."

"Shut up, Dora," Pam ordered.

I looked to the other falcon. "Yes, Dora, I can understand you."

“We’ve been chosen!” Dora gasped reverently.

"She can understand any animal," God offered. "It doesn't make you special."

"Can you not antagonize the birds of prey?" I chastised him.

"Let us out," Dora begged. "Set us free."

"And where would you go?" Pam asked.

"Across the sky and into the world," Dora dreamed. "Better than spending our whole lives as prisoners."

I felt a twinge of sympathy for the bird, hearing her anguish. "I'm sorry," I told her. “I can't let you out. Not yet…"

“Yet?" She jutted her head forward.

"The woman who was killed, did you know her?"

"The Blue Princess," Dora said. “She stuck her hands where they don’t belong. She was afraid of us, too."

"I'm not afraid of you," I corrected. "You startled me the first time we met, that's all."

"What are you doing?" The voice asked from behind me.

Startled, I whirled around. A brawny man with a green face was staring at me. "Um, hi." I offered him a weak smile, hoping that I could charm my way out of the situation.

"You can't be in here," the green-faced man said. "He will have your head."

"The falconer?" I asked. “Curt?”

"Yes. Who are you?"

I extended my hand. "Betsy. I'm the new serving wench."

He stared at my hand but did not take it.

Pam cocked her head. “I thought she said her name was Maggie.”.

“She’s an idiot,” Dora squawked. “She doesn’t even know her own name.”

Doing my best to ignore the birds, I prompted the man in front of me, "You are?"

“Maurice," he admitted grudgingly. "I wear the dragon costume."

"Well," I said with genuine surprise. “I didn’t know somebody did that. I thought it was some sort of remote-controlled robot or something."

“It’s me,” he growled.

"Can you just point me to the way out?" I asked, suddenly aware that the noise from the knights’ weight training room had ceased and I might be alone in the building with a man who played the part of a dragon for a living.

He ushered me out of the room as he said, "Humans are still more reliable than electronics no matter what Curt says."

I wasn't sure he was correct about that, but I didn't argue.

"You want to tell me what you were doing in there talking to the birds?" he asked.

"I love animals," I admitted. "I was walking past, and I heard them so I⁠—"

"I wouldn't admit that to anybody else. It’ll get you fired.”

I nodded my understanding. “Could you point me toward the exit,” I asked again nervously.

“You need to use the Staff door or an alarm will be set off. They’ll fire you for that, too. Follow me.”He led me through the maze of hallways.

“Lots of places to get lost in here,” I said, awkwardly trying to make conversation.

“Lots of places to hide something,” God muttered.

I tried again to connect with the man. “Did any cops lose their way?”

He came to an abrupt halt and whirled to face me. “What?”

I swallowed nervously. “I asked if any cops got turned around when they were investigating the murder of the Blue Princess?”

Tension sharpened his features. “What do you know about that?”

“It was all over the news.” It wasn’t an answer, but it was true. “So, did they?”

He shrugged, turned around, and began walking again. “I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t working that day.”

His tone was strained, and I had the feeling I was on to something, so I pushed the issue. “I thought we only get days off when there are no shows.”

“I was sick. I should have been here, but I was sick.”

“So, there was no dragon in the show that day?” I asked, even though I knew full well that the show had never even gotten started.

He shrugged. “We all have understudies. There’s your door.” He pointed. “If you want to keep this job, you better obey the rules.” He strode off without another word.

I wasn’t sure if he’d just delivered a warning or a threat.

14

All I wanted to do when I got home from Knight Fights was to take a hot shower, pop a couple of painkillers, and curl up in bed. Instead, the moment I stepped out of my car, I was waylaid by Griswald.

"You're here," he said.

"I’m too tired to go to the pawn shop,” I admitted.

"We’ve got to go," he said, grabbing my arm and gently pushing me towards his car.

"But I just got home from work," I protested.

"I need your help with this, Maggie," he reminded me.

"Now?" I protested.

"Yes. We have to go see the Andersons."

"Who are the Andersons?" I asked as he opened my car door for me and ushered me inside.

He closed the door firmly, ran around to the driver's side, and slid behind the steering wheel. "The Andersons are another home that was burglarized."

I leaned my head on the headrest and sighed heavily. "I've had a long day."

"This won't take long," he promised. "Besides, I told Susan I'd have you back in time for dinner."

I closed my eyes. "Not sure I have the strength for dinner tonight."

I could feel him looking over at me, but I kept my eyes shut.

"This won't take long," he repeated.

He drove down the road, pulled down a driveway, and put the car in park.

"Please, Maggie."

Nodding, I opened my eyes and climbed out of the car.

"I appreciate this," he muttered under his breath as an older couple, who had been sitting on Adirondack chairs on the porch, struggled to their feet.

"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson," Griswald called out in his most official voice. "I'm Lawrence Griswald, I believe that my nephew, Detective Brian Griswald, told you we would be stopping by?"

"Come in, come in," the woman invited.

We followed her and her husband into their home. I glanced around. Again, didn't look like the kind of place that would be worth robbing. It was neat and clean but there was nothing expensive about it.

"This is my associate, Maggie," Griswald said as an introduction.

I smiled at them both. "I'm so sorry this happened to you," I said sympathetically.

"It seems silly," Mrs. Anderson said.

"It's not silly," her husband argued. "We were robbed."

"But they only took one thing," his wife said.

"What was that, ma'am?" I asked politely.

"A necklace," she said, her eyes welling with tears. "It was a gold locket. It belonged to my mother, and I was hoping to give it to my future daughter-in-law when my son gets married next month. It has more sentimental value than actual worth."

"I can understand how that would be upsetting," I told her kindly.

"But the case wasn't important enough for the police," her husband complained bitterly.

"I believe the police conducted a thorough investigation," Griswald said carefully. "They just ran out of leads and have limited manpower. That's why my nephew asked us to look into this."

The old man nodded grudgingly.

"Have you had anybody in the house lately, perhaps doing work for you, like a cleaning person or handyman?" Griswald asked with official politeness.

"Nobody," Mr. Anderson said. "I'm more than capable of fixing anything that breaks here, and my wife keeps a beautiful home."

"She certainly does," I soothed. "Could we see where the necklace was taken from?"

Nodding, she took my hand and led me over to the kitchen window. “It was right there,” she told me.

"There?" I asked, confused as to why someone would leave a family heirloom on the sill of the kitchen window.

"Silly, I know," she admitted. "I'd been wearing it, just until I give it away to my daughter-in-law, but I was cleaning the oven and I didn't want to get anything on it. So, I took it off and put it down there."

“And when did you notice it was missing?" I asked.

"A few hours later. I went to put it back on and it was gone."

"And you're sure it didn't fall off somewhere?" Griswald asked.

Both Andersons gave him a scathing look.

"We looked everywhere," the husband said. “We've torn this place apart.”

"I'm sure you checked outside, too," I said in a nonconfrontational tone.

“Of course,” Mrs. Anderson said. “Especially when we noticed that the screen had a hole in it.”

I glanced at Griswald as I repeated, “The screen was ripped?”

“A small hole,” Mr. Anderson confirmed. “I replaced it immediately.”

“We looked outside, just in case,” his wife said.

"We did," he admitted. "We can't find it anywhere. It had to have been stolen."

Griswald took out his phone and took a couple shots of the "crime scene" before saying, "We'll do our best to recover it.”

"I do hope you find it," Mrs. Anderson said plaintively. "I did so want to pass it down."

We nodded our understanding and excused ourselves.

On the way home, Griswald murmured, "Seems more likely that these people have lost their belongings, doesn't it?"

I shrugged. “Odd that both screens were ripped.”

“These are older homes,” he pointed out. “Screens get holes.”

“Maybe,” I murmured.

"So, we have a thief that only steals small items, and only one from each home?" Griswald asked. “Seems risky for such small rewards.”

“It does,” I agreed.

“I think the more logical explanation is they’re older people who were losing things."

"Maybe," I agreed. "Did Brian tell you why he suspected it might be something else?"

"Only because they got multiple reports on the street," Griswald explained. "I'll talk to the third victim by myself tomorrow, but you were very helpful in soothing ruffled feathers, and I appreciate your help this evening."

"No problem," I murmured. Then I closed my eyes and plopped the back of my skull against the headrest.

I really didn't feel like attending the family dinner, but Aunt Susan was waiting for us on the front porch. "Good," my aunt declared. "You're back. It's time to eat."

Knowing it would be easier to just comply than argue, I followed her into the house.

"Don't forget to wash your hands, Margaret," she told me.

"Don't forget that I'm an adult," I shot back.

While people asked me how my first day at the new job had gone, in a thinly disguised effort to figure out where I was working, I slowly and methodically ate the bowl of beef stew that Aunt Susan had prepared. I gave them noncommittal answers and offered no new information.

“Just leave the girl alone," my grandfather finally declared with irritation. "She doesn't want everybody to know her business, just stay out of it."

I shot him a grateful smile, but he wasn't looking. He was shaking his head, glaring down at his empty stew bowl.

While we waited for the others to finish, there was a knock at the front door.

"I'll get it," I said, jumping up from my seat, eager to make an escape.

I hurried over to the front door, threw it open and gasped, "Dad?"

15

"Do you have a minute, Maggie May?" he asked, twisting his hands nervously.

Seeing how distraught he looked, I yelled, "It’s Archie. We’re going for a walk." I practically jumped out the front door, pulling it shut behind me.

Dad blinked, alarmed by my intensity level.

"What's wrong?" I asked worriedly.

"It's Ian," he began.

I froze, wondering what had happened to my brother.

"I'm so depressed about him leaving," my father confided.

"He's okay?" I asked for clarification.

He nodded. "He's just fine. I'm heartbroken."

I wondered why he had decided to come and reveal that at the house and in the middle of dinner.

"I'm worried I might do something stupid," my father confessed.

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure that Griswald wasn't standing with his ear pressed to the door.

"Come this way," I urged. I led my father towards the barn.

"Hi, Maggie," Irma brayed.

"Hey, Irma," I yelled back. “We just need a couple minutes."

"Take all the time you need," the donkey replied. She backed away to give us some privacy.

"What do you mean by doing something stupid?" I asked my father.

He hung his head with shame. "I'm itching to do something illegal."

"You've got to be kidding me," God groaned from my bra. "Did he come to you as some sort of support group meeting where he can confess his nefarious urges?"

Ignoring the lizard, I patted my dad's arm. "Wanting to do something and actually doing it are two different things," I assured him.

"It's just…" My dad trailed off and stared up at the night sky. "I wanted so much more from life."

My heart squeezed a little, hearing the level of sadness in his tone.

"I messed things up with your mother, and you girls, and Ian, and I'm running out of time to do anything of significance with my life."

"But you're back in our lives," I told him. "Aunt Susan even invites you over occasionally."

"But all I do, day after day, is go to the deli and make sandwiches."

"You love making sandwiches," I reminded him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But sometimes it’d be nice to get a little rush."

"Dad, I'm telling you this with love. Every single time you've tried to do something where you got a rush, you ended up in trouble. You either hurt someone you cared about, or you ended up in jail."

"Tough love!" God cheered from my bra. "I'm loving it."

"I get that you're upset about Ian, but a quick fix of a petty crime isn't going to fix anything."

"I know you're right, M&M," he admitted sadly.

"You came and told me before doing anything stupid," I said, feeling like I needed to say something to lift his spirits. "That's good. That's progress. We can work this out together."

He kicked a rock lying on the ground in front of him. "Look at me," he said, shaking his head. "I'm a grown man asking my adult daughter to convince me not to do something stupid and illegal."

"How am I doing?" I asked.

"Pretty good," he admitted.

"Have you talked to Ian about this?" I asked.

"About committing a crime because I’m bored?"

"About how sad you feel," I told him.

He shook his head. "What would be the point? I don't want to guilt him into staying. He and Kristen seem so excited to be leaving."

"I understand how upsetting that is," I confided. "It feels like they're happy to be getting away from us."

"It's just that I'm going to miss him so much," Dad gasped, his voice thick with unshed tears.

"Me too." I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. "We still got a lot of people around here to love."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and murmured, "We certainly do."

"Archie!" Aunt Susan yelled from the porch. "Come join us for dessert. I made brownies."

"See?" I teased. "She's welcoming you to the table, yet again. You don't want to blow that by getting arrested."

"I certainly don't," he agreed. Keeping an arm around my shoulders, he walked us back to the house.

My plan for resting and recovering from work went out the window as we all ate brownies and then broke into two teams for a game of sugar-fueled charades.

Griswald begged off and practically ran away from playtime, but I teamed up with Dad, Marlene, Katie and Alicia, while facing off against my three aunts, grandfather and Armani.

Templeton took on the role of gamemaster, setting categories and keeping score. It was silly chaos punctuated with laughter, for hours on end.

“Best night ever,” my father declared as he offered his heartfelt thanks to Susan when Marlene declared it was bedtime for my yawning nieces. “I’m okay now,” he whispered in my ear as he hugged me good-bye.

I helped Templeton with the clean-up, and I finally fell into bed, cuddling up with DeeDee and Piss. I was thoroughly exhausted and completely content.

16

I was tired before I even started my shift at Knight Fights the next day.

Every muscle was sore, I had a headache, and all I wanted to do was nap.

Instead, I went into work an hour early. I parked at the back of the lot, and nibbled on an extra blueberry muffin that Templeton had made for me.

God was on the dashboard of my car, looking out. "What do you think we’re going to see?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said, “but we saw the king talking to that disreputable looking guy yesterday, who knows what we’ll see this morning by being here early.”

"I hope Ms. Whitehat appreciates your dedication to this particular assignment."

I took another bite of muffin.

"It's not your fault that woman is dead," the lizard told me.

I glanced in his direction and then stared back at the Staff Only door.

"You had no idea she was even in danger," the lizard continued.

"But I did," I replied. “I didn't know she intentionally ran to me, but I could see that she was frightened. I didn't offer her any help."

“That’s not where your head was at," he excused. "You were there with your family. You were there to enjoy yourselves. You weren't expecting to encounter danger."

"Maybe I should've been," I said, swallowing what now tasted like sawdust. "Maybe because of the choices I've made in my life, I'll have to always be on the lookout for danger."

The lizard remained silent.

I put away the remains of the muffin and drummed impatiently on the steering wheel of the car.

The first person to arrive for work was Heath, the falconer.

"He's tall enough," I told the lizard.

“Tall enough for what?"

"He's tall enough to have been the guy in the plague doctor costume that I saw chasing Mariah," I explained.

Soon after Heath went into the building, Maurice arrived. I barely recognized him since he didn't have a green face.

"He's tall enough," I decided. "And he certainly looks strong enough to drive a sword into somebody's chest."

We watched as a couple of the knights, one wearing a red bandana, and another a Grateful Dead t-shirt, jokingly punch each other's shoulders as they walked in.

"They're tall enough," God declared. “I think you may have a problem with your suspect pool. This place seems to attract a wide range of tall enough men.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. I was going to have to figure out a way to narrow down my list of potential murderers.

Adam pulled up on a moped. Somehow, I wasn't surprised.

"Now, he is not tall enough," God declared. "Odd that the one person whose official job it is to wear the plague doctor mask, is not our killer.”

"Lucky for him," I murmured.

Jonah strolled in with an arm around the shoulders of a young woman in her twenties. I assumed that, like me, she was another serving wench. Ellie hadn't been exaggerating when she said the guy was a creep.

My cell phone buzzed, and I answered it, even though I didn't recognize the number that was calling. "Hello?"

"Ms. Lee," Ms. Whitehat greeted, her voice cool and controlled. "Have you made any progress?"

"Not yet," I admitted. "It would help if I knew what it was that I'm looking for."

"It would help all of us if we knew," she murmured. "Are you feeling unsafe?"

"You mean, besides the fact that I'm chasing down an unknown murderer? Why would I feel unsafe?"

"If you want me to pull you out of the assignment…" She let the offer hang in the air between us.

I stared at my phone. I don't remember her ever offering me an out before. "What's going on?" I asked suspiciously.

"One of our suspects was killed last night," she admitted.

I glanced at the door. All my suspects had just filed inside, so I was pretty sure they were also alive. "Who was that?"

"You don't need to know that," she said. “I just need to know whether you want to be removed from the situation."

An image of the Blue Princess’s frightened features flashed before my eyes.

"No," I told her resolutely. "I'm going to see this thing through."

“If you change your mind," the other woman offered quietly.

"I won't," I told her. "I wasn't able to save Mariah. I am going to bring her killer to justice."

"Keep me apprised," Whitehat said, and then disconnected the call.

"You could've walked away," God felt the need to point out.

"My conscience wouldn't let me," I replied.

"But we were just going over how it wasn't your fault that she ended up dead," he reminded me.

"She recognized me," I argued. “She spoke her last words to me. I owe it to her." As I explained my motivation, Ellie arrived for work. She was on her phone, shaking her head, looking unhappy. "I suspect it's going to be a long day," I told the lizard. I brushed the remains of the blueberry muffin crumbs off me, and plopped the lizard into my bra, before heading into work.

The moment she saw me, Ellie, who was still on her phone, motioned for me to follow her. I could only hear part of her conversation. "Yes. No. I can't."She led me down a hall I had not traversed before and pointed at the door that said “costume”. I gave her a thumbs up and she scurried away.

"Have you thought about how you're going to explain why you are carrying a lizard in your bra?" God asked as I stepped through the doorway.

As is often the case with him, he was making a good point, just making it too late.

A woman with a cigarette dangling from her mouth and a pencil stuck through the bun on the top of her head, gave me a once over. "You the new wench?"

I did my best to smile enthusiastically. "I am."

“Take off your shirt,” the woman said.

"This is going to be a problem," God affirmed.

"I need just a second," I told the costumer. I spun around, putting my back to her. "Get out," I whispered fiercely at God. "Get out."

"And go wher?," he asked as he began to scramble up my bra strap.

"I don't know, just figure out where to hide."

"I don't have all day," the costumer declared impatiently. "Either you’re going to get fitted or you're gonna get fired, your choice. No time for modesty here."

The lizard ran down the length of my body and skittered across the floor of the room.

I spun back around to face the woman who'd be cinching me into a serving wench costume. "I'm ready," I lied. I had the feeling I wasn't ready at all.

17

"Fred! Fred, get back here!" the voice shouted.

I glanced down at the arena below and watched as Adam tried to corrall the dancing horse. The doors were supposed to open in five minutes, and Fred was doing what looked an awful lot like a moonwalk in the middle of the arena.

"Make a run for it," Dora screeched, "Be free!”

I looked over at the falcons, who were sitting on the falconer’s arm. Pam remained silent, but her friend was cheering on the horse’s act of defiance.

"You missed a spot," someone said from behind me. Turning, I found Ellie pointing at a slick spot on one of the armrests of the seat I was supposed to be giving a final cleaning.

I swiped at it with the rag I held. "The horse is having a good time."

She rolled her eyes. “He gets loose about once a week and does that little routine. It enrages Christopher."

"That's his handler?” I asked.

She nodded. "If Jonah is creepy, Christopher is just scary," she told me.

"How so?" I asked, wondering if I should add this Christopher character to my list of suspects.

"He's a former jockey and thinks he's better than all this," Ellie explained.

I was guessing that, since jockeys are usually quite vertically challenged, I didn't need to add Christopher to my massive list of tall suspects capable of driving a sword into a woman's chest.

Sure enough, a short man carrying a whip strode into the arena.

"Stop him!" Dora screamed.

It was a good thing that Mariah had been killed by a human being, otherwise, the falcon would've been at the top of my suspect list.

"It's time to get into costume," Ellie said. “It's almost showtime.”

I followed her back to the changing area and found myself in a mix of women pulling on serving wench costumes and princess gowns. I had no doubt that my nieces would've been in seventh heaven in the setting. I squeezed into my too tight outfit, fervently hoping that the fabric stretched tightly across my chest wouldn't explode mid-service. Aunt Loretta would have approved of my heaving bosom, but I was mortified.

"Pigtails," Ellie reminded me.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my hair into pigtails.

"You look great," she assured me. "You're going to do great."

I smiled weakly at her.

"Just remember that if somebody pinches your butt, you are not allowed to slap them," she said.

"Okay," I told her. If somebody pinched me, they'd receive more than a slap in return.

Suddenly, a loud trumpeting noise filled the air.

"Places everyone!" a disembodied voice commanded.

Ellie grabbed my hand, pulled me into the line where we were supposed to be standing, and said, "Just think ‘great tips’." She hurried off to join her respective line as I picked up a tray loaded with pitchers of various beverages.

"That was quite the pep talk," God murmured. His voice was muffled because he was inside the cloth bag that normally held Armani's Scrabble tiles. After the costume fitting the day before, I knew he wasn't going to be able to ride in my bra without being suffocated, so I'd liberated the wooden squares from their container. No doubt, Armani would be upset when she found out, but it was for a good cause. Instead of curling up between my breasts, the lizard was attached to a belt that ran beneath the skirt of the serving wench dress.

I followed the other wenches into the arena and froze for a moment. Carrying the laden trays to empty aisles had been a challenge, how was I supposed to maneuver around all the audience members who were distractedly staring at the antics going on in the arena?

If my body had hurt from the first day of training, the first day of actual work left me in agony. Somehow, I managed not to spill too much on too many people, and as Ellie had predicted, I'd earned great tips. But I hadn't gotten any further on my Whitehat investigation, so when I stumbled out of work and toward my car, I knew I'd have to sit and watch the others leave.

"That was horrible," God complained the moment I closed the car door.

He scrambled out of the bag, over my body and and splayed out on the dashboard, gasping like he’d been deprived of oxygen my entire shift.

"It was," I agreed. The assortment of obnoxious kids, demanding mothers and butt pinching fathers had been overwhelming. I felt like I’d been assaulted on all levels.

My feet hurt, because I hadn't stopped moving the entire time. My arms were sore from lugging so many laden trays, and my ego was bruised at the amount of abuse I've endured.

Still, I had a job to do, so I grabbed the remains of the blueberry muffin that I hadn't finished that morning and popped it into my mouth as I watched the other employees trickle out of the building. The knights left first, looking as beaten up and tired as I felt.

There had been some sort of squabble in the arena between some of them. The crowd had booed the Red Knight for hitting the Silent Knight in the head with his spear when the Silent Knight hadn't been looking. I didn't think that the move was scripted, because all the knights had suddenly ended up in some sort of fistfight in the middle of the arena floor. It had been up to Jonah, the juggler, to distract the booing crowd as the knights left the entertainment space.

After the knights left the building, I watched the processional of the queen and princesses leave. They didn't look nearly as tired as the rest of us, having only had to smile and wave for the entire show. Adam climbed onto his moped and cheerily sped off into the night, seemingly no worse for wear since he had a small role and only had to appear in his plague mask at the end of the show. The falconer trudged out, muttering into his cell phone.

"Do you think I should set them free?" I asked.

"Who?" God wondered, sounding confused.

"The falcons," I explained. "They want to be free."

"Who knows if they could even survive in the wild," the lizard said. "Do they know how to hunt?"

"I have no idea," I admitted.

"You're not here to free them," God reminded me. "You're here to find whatever Mariah died for."

"But—"

I yelped in terror as somebody knocked on my window.

18

The green-faced man on the other side of the glass stared at me.

"What?" I shouted, defensively.

He pointed at his ear and then pointed down to the ground, indicating he couldn't hear me and I should lower the window.

I hesitated. Maurice was still on my suspects list, and I didn't want to die in my car.

He repeated the gesture.

I opened it half an inch. "What?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked gruffly.

"I was tired, so I was resting before I drove home," I told him snippily.

"You shouldn't hang around," he warned.

"You the parking lot police?" I countered.

He narrowed his gaze. "I'm just trying to help you."

"By chasing me off?"

He shrugged. "Look, you’re new. You don't understand what goes on here."

"Enlighten me," I invited.

He shook his head. "Let's just say, El Mejor doesn't like people hanging around."

I wondered if this El Mejor character was the man I'd seen meeting with the king.

"I'm just looking out for you," Maurice said. "I'm telling you not to get caught." With that, he turned and stalked over to his car. He gunned the motor as he flew past.

"You think that was a legitimate warning?" God asked.

"I'm not sure I want to find out," I admitted. I started my own car, ready to drive home.

According to Ellie, the next day’s show would be even harder work.

"Saturdays are the worst," she’d said. "Bigger crowds, people drink more, bigger jerks."

I’d thanked her for the warning, but now, I was dreading going to work the next day.

Just as I put the car into gear, the king strode out. He was one of the few cast members that I hadn't spoken with yet. I decided it might be worthwhile to follow him. He didn't seem to notice my car as he climbed into a Lexus SUV.

"Somebody's getting paid well," I muttered. I doubted he was making his money on tips. "That might seem to indicate he's up to something illegal, wouldn't it?" I asked the lizard on the dashboard.

"If you could solve this case by following him and we never have to be subjected to that level of noise and stench again, I'm all for this," God confirmed.

I followed the king for a couple of miles through traffic to a well-to-do neighborhood.

"Hang back," God suggested. "You don't want him to spot you."

Knowing he was right, I slowed down a little bit and watched as the king’s SUV pulled into the biggest house on the street. He parked in the garage, and as the door lowered, he disappeared from sight.

"Very suspicious," I decided.

"Something is definitely up," the lizard agreed. "You should check it out."

I looked around. “You don't think that these places have security cameras and alarms?"

"Probably," the lizard admitted. "But wouldn't getting caught be worth not going to work tomorrow?"

"I can always leave you at home," I reminded him.

"And then what would happen if you got yourself into trouble?" he asked indignantly. "Who would get you out of it?"

I fought the urge to tell him that he was not responsible for getting me out of every tight jam that I found myself in and that I'm a resourceful woman, a klutz, maybe, but resourceful. Instead, I let out another frightened yelp.

This time, when I turned to see who was knocking on my car window, I spotted a friendly face.

"Hey, Lee," Nat Hunting mouthed. "Let me in."

I quickly hit the unlock button for the car doors and he slid into the seat behind me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"What are you doing here?" he countered pointedly.

I glanced at him in my rear-view mirror and saw a bruise blooming across his right cheek.“Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I'll ask again, what are you doing here?"

“I'm working a job for Ms. Whitehat," I told him.

"And it involves coming here?"

“No," I told him. "But the man that just went into this house,” I pointed at the one I meant, “is one of my suspects."

"Why?" he asked curiously.

"You haven't told me what you're doing here," I reminded him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He glanced up at the house that I'd indicated, and then met my gaze in the rear-view mirror. "I'm working a job."

"What kind of job?" I asked. The man sitting behind me had a lot of them. He was a thief turned insurance investigator, who sometimes did PI-type work for Griswald and seemed to be at Ms. Whitehat's beck and call. I really knew nothing about the man. But I trusted him.

He shook his head. "Can't say."

"Won't say," I corrected.

"Go home, Lee," he urged.

"I can't," I told him. "I told you, I'm working."

"You look like you’re going to fall over at any moment from sheer exhaustion," he pointed out.

"You really know how to make a girl feel good," I told him.

"The truth hurts, but that doesn't mean it's not the truth."

"Seriously, Nat," I said. "Why are you here?"

"Like you, I'm working a job." He left it there, offering no further explanation.

"I think you should go," God said from the dashboard.

I looked at him, surprised. The lizard was watching our exchange carefully.

"He's right, you're exhausted."

I wanted to argue with him, but the more it was said out loud that I looked tired, the less energy I had.

"Fine," I told them both. "I'll go home." Then, I glared at Nat in the mirror. "You better not be trying to outmaneuver me."

He chuckled. "Relax, Lee. I'm always on your side."

He reached for his car door and then glanced back at me. "Seriously, you look like you need some rest. Take care of yourself." He climbed out of the car and strode away into the darkness.

Sighing, I headed for home.

"You really think it's okay to leave him there?" I asked the lizard quietly as I drove.

“I think that he was trying to keep you safe," the lizard admitted. "Let him. You have enough danger in your life as it is."

19

It felt like the Fates were conspiring against me.

All I wanted to do was get some rest, but as soon as I pulled up to the house, I knew that wasn't going to be possible. A perky blonde was sitting in one of the rocking chairs, bouncing back and forth on it at a speed it was not designed to endure.

I groaned.

"What now?" God asked tiredly.

"It's Kristen," I said.

"What does she want?" he asked.

"I have no idea," I said. “But she looks nervous.” I climbed out of the car stiffly, and offered a weak smile and waved to my brother's girlfriend and Delveccio’s former mob doc.

She practically catapulted herself out of the chair and ran down the stairs to meet me. "Can we talk?"

I nodded and led her down the driveway, back toward the road. I was assuming that whatever she wanted to discuss should be kept private.

"I’m almost ready to leave," she confided.

"That's good," I told her. “Isn’t it?”

She nodded.

"But it occurred to me," she said slowly. "I never thanked you."

"For what?" I asked.

She gave me a sideways look. "He would've never let me go unless you asked him."

I could've played dumb and asked her who she was talking about, but we both knew that she was referring to Delveccio. One doesn't just get out of their employment agreement with organized crime. She was right, I'd used my influence on him to buy her and Ian their freedom and, hopefully, their happiness.

"You deserve a fresh start," I told her carefully.

"Do you?"

It was my turn to look at her with surprise. "Me?"

She nodded.

"You’ve gotten to know my family," I told her. “Even if I wanted to leave… this area," I said carefully, not wanting to say Delveccio's employment, "I couldn't."

"Your other sister did," she said.

I stiffened at the mention of Marlene’s twin, Darlene. "And she hurt everybody who she claimed to love, in the process," I said bitterly. "I'm not about to do that."

The blonde beside me nodded her understanding. "Well, if there's ever anything I can do to help you…"

"You can make my brother happy," I told her.

"I'll do my best," she pledged.

We were halfway to the road when Griswald came rolling down the driveway.

I asked Kristen, "Are we good?"

She nodded, turned around, and began walking back toward the house.

Griswald pulled to a stop beside me. "I need your help tomorrow," he announced.

"I can't, I have a long demanding day at work," I told him firmly.

"The job that you won't tell anybody where it is or what you're doing," he said. "You do know that I could just put a tail on you and find out for myself, don't you?"

"But you won't," I told him. "Because you know that would be a huge invasion of my privacy and you're not that kind of person."

We stared at each other for a long moment, locked in a silent showdown.

"Fine, I'll do it myself," he finally conceded.

"I'm sure you can handle it," I told him.

He chuckled. "I don't know about that. You did an excellent job with Mrs. Anderson and her missing necklace."

“It would be nice to recover it for her," I admitted.

He nodded and then rolled the car towards the house. I stood there in the middle of the driveway by myself for a long moment and took a couple of deep breaths.

"Are you in need of aid, Maggie Lee?" a Peruvian accented voice asked.

I turned toward the llama who was picking his way toward me.

"No," I told him. "I'm just fine, Alejandro."

“All is quiet here," he assured me. “Peaceful."

I nodded. “Thank you." I turned and walked back toward the house slowly. At the last moment, I veered off and headed for the barn.

The young raccoon scooted in front of me. “Hi!" Rowdy said.

Considering that she was an adolescent, I was caught off guard by the cheery greeting.

"Hi, yourself," I said. "You doing okay? Is Twitch all right?"

"We're great," she said, answering for both herself, and her best buddy, the little brown bunny, Twitch. "But I'm a little worried about Piss," she admitted.

"Because she's been visiting her friend, the old man, so often?" I guessed.

"It's like she's never here anymore," Rowdy complained. "Not that I want her here, bossing me around or anything but…"

"It's hard sometimes, when those we care about make new friends," I said carefully.

"You haven't been around, either,” the raccoon accused.

"I'm sorry about that," I said. "I've had a job I’ve been working at."

"You could bring me with you," Rowdy suggested. "I've proven I can be helpful."

"It's not the kind of place that you would fit in," God said from my shoulder.

The raccoon bared her teeth at him.

"He's right," I said tiredly. "You know that if I needed your help, I'd ask for it."

"And why haven't you asked for my help?" she asked. "Do you think that I'm not good enough to do it?"

"I can't take you to an arena filled with people and horses and falcons and that—" I protested.

"Not that job," Rowdy replied, interrupting me. "The robberies. I am a thief. Therefore, I could probably help you."

"She has a point," God said.

I looked at the raccoon, tilting my head to the side. "Seriously?"

"I'm bored," she admitted.

"Have you heard anything about the stolen items?"

"I know almost everything," she said, as only a teenager can. "I hear Griswald discussing the details of the case with Susan all the time."

"And how do you do that?" I asked curiously.

"Because she's a snoop in addition to being a thief," God said. "But that might work to our advantage."

"Exactly," I told the raccoon formally. "I would appreciate any help you'd be willing to provide."

"I'm on it," Rowdy said excitedly, then she ran off into the woods.

"I'm not sure it was a wise decision to recruit a juvenile delinquent for this particular cause," God said.

"Too little, too late,” I told him.

I went inside, and refused the late dinner that Templeton offered to reheat for me. "I'm beat," I told him. "I just want to go to bed." I shuffled down the hallway to my room and plopped on my bed, where DeeDee and Piss were already waiting. "You smell like horses, Sugar," the cat complained softly.

"That's the least of my problems," I told her. Then, I closed my eyes and sank into a deep sleep.

20

Since the first Saturday show didn't begin until 1 PM, I did not have to be at Knight Fights until half past ten. I slept late, and when I stumbled into the kitchen, everyone except Templeton was already gone.

"Thought you were never going to get up, sleeping beauty," he said with a benevolent smile."I let the cat and dog out of your room a couple of hours ago and fed them. They're outside playing with the girls."

"Thank you," I said as he slid a cup of coffee in front of me.

"I'm not asking what this new job of yours is," he said carefully, "I'm just saying that it seems to be taking quite the toll on you."

"Hopefully, it won't last much longer," I told him. "I appreciate your concern."

"If there's anything you need, anything I can do…"

I shook my head.

"I tried a new recipe this morning," he said. "I've been keeping your serving warm." He pulled out a French toast covered with a cream cheese frosting that dripped over the mixed berry filling.

"Oh, and there’s sausage," he said as an afterthought. He pulled out links wrapped in aluminum foil from the oven. "How is your case with Griswald going?"

I shrugged and sipped my coffee. "I know I haven't made any progress on it. Hopefully, he's done more."

"He doesn't seem to think that any crimes actually took place, what do you think?"

I considered my coffee, and the question, for a moment. "I believe that people are missing the items that they claim to be, but it’s strange that somebody would steal only one thing from each house."

"Unless they have really small hands," Templeton joked.

I chuckled as he slid a plate full of food in front of me and slid into the seat opposite me.

“Will you be here for dinner?"

"No, it's a long shift today," I told him.

I didn't say that I was dreading the idea of working two shows that day. I needed to solve this case for Whitehat soon…if only to save myself.

"Nobody is going to be home, at this rate," he murmured.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well, Loretta and Armani are going to be at The Corset. They've extended their hours because the shop has been so busy. Susan and Griswald are going to dinner with one of his former coworkers.”

“That will leave just you with Marlene and the girls,” I deduced.

“And they’d prefer a fluffernutter sandwich,” he joked.

I put a forkful of the baked French toast in my mouth and savored it. I made a pleased sound, finding no words to even describe how good it was.

"What about tomorrow?" Templeton asked.

"I've got to work then, too," I said.

"Are you sure?" he wheedled.

"I am.” Knowing that after working two shows, I would not have the energy to search the bowels of the Knight Fights facility, I felt secure making the pronouncement.

"Well, that's too bad," he murmured.

I glanced at him, attempting to discern if he was trying to guilt trip me, but all I was able to make out was genuine disappointment. "How about I pack you a lunch and dinner?" he suggested.

"You don't have to do that," I told him.

He got to his feet and patted my shoulder. "But I want to."

He let me eat the rest of my meal in peaceful silence, while he busied himself flitting around the room, packing up my next couple of meals for me. I appreciated it so much that he didn't drill me with a million questions or make small talk. After breakfast, I took a shower and dressed for work. It really didn't matter what I wore, considering I was going to have to put on my serving wench outfit as soon as I got there.

"Do you want to stay here?" I asked God.

He hesitated before answering.

"You can," I assured him. "I understand it stinks and it's loud and it's just…"

"Hellish," God supplied.

I nodded.

"But I'm not going to let you go there alone," he said. "I'm going."

As I scooped him out of his enclosure, there was a knock at my door, and it was pushed open before I could respond. Armani stuck her head in. "Hey, Chica," she called.

"Hey."

"Have you figured out what the Scrabble tiles meant yet?"

I shook my head.

"Me neither," she said, “and it's really bothering me."

"Me too," I lied. The truth was, I hadn't given it a second thought.

"I have a date with Jack tonight," she revealed.

"Good for you," I said. I like the crime reporter. He scares me because of what he does for a living and what I do to earn money sometimes, but I like him.

"I think it may be our final break-up," she revealed.

"Why?" I asked, trying to keep any judgment out of my tone.

"I'm not sure we’re compatible," she said. "I mean, he's good in bed but⁠—"

I held up a hand to silence her. "I really don't need to know this," I told her. "I hope it all works out for whatever is best."

She nodded, muttered something that sounded a lot like "prude" under her breath, and pulled the door shut.

"It will be good if Jack isn’t around as much," God said. "You have a lot to fear from an honest man."

I nodded. Still, I thought that the reporter had been good for my wild friend and their impending breakup saddened me.

"Ready to go to battle?" I asked the lizard.

I walked into the building with Adam, who arrived at about the same time as I did in the parking lot.

"It's the best day of the week," he declared.

“And why is that?” I asked, even though I didn't really care about what his answer was going to be.

"We use new targets on Saturdays," he revealed.

One of his jobs was to carry out the archery targets for the knights’ first round of "battles".

"And that's better because…?"

"They’re steadier," he explained. "They haven't taken a beating yet, so it's easy to just walk in and plop them down. Friday nights are tough because they've been through three shows already and don't always want to balance well, and that irritates the knights."

"You do know they're not really knights, don't you?” I pointed out.

He shrugged. "And I'm not really the plague doctor." He hurried off to his section of the building and I hurried to go change into my costume.

The noon show went smoothly. It was mostly families with young children. They didn't drink as much, which meant they didn't tip as much, but it also meant that they didn't pinch as much or deliver quite as many lewd comments. I was able to watch a decent amount of the show as I performed my serving duties.

It opened with the thundering of horns and hooves as the knights on horseback rode in and proclaimed their loyalty to their respective princesses. Then, Jonah emerged, performing a pretty impressive juggling act as the jester. As soon as he was gone, the targets for the archery competition were set up. The knights made a lot of noise and boisterous claims that the audience loved as they competed. Not long after, Fred, the dancing horse, amused and amazed the entire crowd with his dance moves. Personally, it seemed to me that they liked the horse better than the men.

The king, who I noted seemed too young to have princesses the age that surrounded him, made a stirring speech, and then knights on horses came out to joust. Dust was stirred up and the crowd went wild. During the jousting, I noticed that the king had an animated conversation with some of the audience members in his section and I wondered if that was part of the act. Afterward, Heath showed off his falconry skills, with both Pam and Dora cursing him out as they swooped and screeched around the arena, while we cleared the main course dishes.

After that, Jonah, the jester, returned to center stage, juggling flaming bottles, and dessert was served. He was chased away by Maurice in the dragon suit, who seemed to be spitting huge balls of fire, which I assumed were the work of Curt, the pyro guy. The crowd loved that, especially the kids.

As I finished serving the crown-shaped cookies, the knights came out for their sword fighting. The metal blades clanged against each other and the crowd cheered, booed and gasped with a mixture of delight and horror.

In the end they could be only one.

For the noon show, the Green Knight won the hand of the Green Princess. The audience members in their section of the crowd went wild.

The show ended with a massive light and fireworks display. I had to hand it to Curt. He knew his stuff.

Once the audience had trickled out, we cleaned up the audience area, preparing for the audience that would be in at 7 PM. I worked fiendishly, trying to get enough time between shows to do some more searching of the Knight Fights grounds. As a result, my section was done first. I changed from my wench costume to my street clothes and began creeping down the hallway.

"Set us free!” Dora screamed as I crept past the falcon area. "Come back, Maggie!" Pam screeched. Ignoring them, I hurried onward. Deciding that there was probably a good chance that the knights would not be using the weight room between shows, it seemed like the ideal chance to search that space. I hurried toward the door where the heavy metal music had been coming from a couple of days earlier.

"You seem to have a plan," God commented as I race-walked down the hallway.

"I think I have an opportunity," I said.

I hurried into the darkened room and felt along the wall, attempting to find the light switch. Suddenly, I tripped over something in my path. I fell to the ground in an inelegant heap.

"Sensitive skin," God groaned.

"Sorry," I muttered, trying to get myself back up. I pushed against something that was semi-squishy. "I can't see anything in here." I pulled out my cell phone and turned the flashlight on. And that's when I saw his dead face.

21

It's a good thing that I'm not prone to screaming, because looking at the bloodied countenance of Petunia, with his slack jaw and glazed fisheyes, I was pretty startled.

I'm pretty sure I did gasp in horror.

"Is that…?" God asked.

"Ick," I murmured, scrambling to my feet.

"You cannot be found with this body," God said urgently.

Knowing he was right, I quickly backed out of the room. It's not like there was anything I could do for the big man who'd served as my hiring agent. I had to talk to Ms. Whitehat and let her know what was going on.

I hurried back down the hallway, intent on grabbing my keys and phone and going out to the car to make the call.

“Go into the bird room," God ordered as I was about to hurry past the falcons’ domicile.

I veered off, thinking he had seen or heard something that I hadn't.

"Close the door," he whispered.

I did as he instructed and stood there in the darkness, listening to my heartbeat thundering.

"She came for us," Pam said. "She's going to set us free."

"Now, turn on the light," God told me.

I flipped the switch.

"Make sure you didn't get any blood on you," the lizard instructed.

"Blood?" Pam parroted. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," I told her.

"Are you hurt?” Dora asked.

"I'm fine," I told them both while I examined myself for any evidence of Petunia’s bodily fluids on my clothing. I couldn't see anything.

"Do you see anything?" I asked God.

"Right shoe," Dora said.

I looked down and realized that she was right. There was a single drop of blood on the tip.

I stared at it in horror. I’d killed a bunch of people, but it would be terrible if I went to jail for a murder I hadn't committed.

"You need to burn your shoes," God declared.

"I can't burn my shoes," I argued. "You don't imagine that would gather attention, to be starting an impromptu bonfire for no apparent reason. Don’t you think that people would notice it's weird that I'm walking around without any shoes on?"

"You’ve got to do something," he said. “You're the one that tripped over the body."

"Why don't you just wipe it off?" Dora suggested. "There's a bathroom over there.” She jutted her beak in the direction of a closed door.

"It's better than nothing," God conceded. "Go do that."

I hurried into the bathroom, locked the door behind me, took the shoe off, and rinsed it in the sink. I then wiped down the sink with tissue paper and flushed it. I flushed three times for good measure, hoping to get rid of as much of the evidence as possible.

"You are in big trouble," God said.

"I know," I told him. "I've got to call Whitehat and tell her."

"Preferably before the body is found," God suggested.

"Appreciate your help, guys," I told the birds as I hurried out.

"Set us free," Dora begged, pitifully.

"I'll be back," I promised them. Then, I practically made a mad dash to retrieve my keys and phone. I walked across the parking lot. I was breathless and weak-kneed by the time I collapsed into my car. I locked the doors and then pushed redial for the number that Whitehat had last called me from. "Pick up," I prayed, “please pick up."

"Yes?" Her tone was curt and cold.

"Petunia’s dead," I blurted out.

"What do you mean, dead?" she asked, a note of panic weaving through her tone.

"As in, his body is no longer functioning," I snapped.

"What happened?" she asked, regaining some of her poise.

"Looks like somebody bashed his head in with a dumbbell," I told her. "He's in the weight room at Knight Fights."

"And where are you?"

"In my car in the parking lot," I told her. "I didn’t think I should be the one to discover his body."

“Excellent choice," she replied. "Good thinking, Ms. Lee. You have to go back in there. You can't risk blowing your cover."

"You have to tell me exactly what I'm doing here," I shot back. "You've lost two operatives on this mission, and everyone knows that bad things happen in threes."

"Really?" God muttered. "You're going to be superstitious at a time like this?"

For a long moment, Whitehat was silent. "But Petunia wasn't an operative,” she said finally. "He was an asset."

"Excellent," I said, "that means I can be the second operative to die and the third asset."

"You sound hysterical," Whitehat said calmly. "Perhaps you need to take a couple of deep breaths."

"Perhaps you need to—" I began heatedly.

"Maggie!" God boomed. "Think before you speak."

I frowned at him. I really wanted to speak before I thought, but I knew he was right. I sucked in a deep breath.

"You have another show in a few hours, correct?" Whitehat asked quietly.

"Yes," I said. “But I have to be back on duty in less than 90 minutes."

"Then I will see you after your shift and explain everything," she promised.

"If I live that long," I told her. I disconnected the call, seething with a potent mixture of anger and fear.

"You need to get control of yourself," God said. "You have to walk in there pretending to be calm and clueless."

"That's the second dead person I've had skin-to-skin contact with in the last week," I reminded him.

"Eww," he groaned. "What a disgusting way to think of it."

“I can’t do it,” I told him.

“Can’t do what?”

“This job. I can’t go back in there and pretend everything is okay.”

“If you don’t, you’ll be named the prime suspect in the murder.”

I gulped.

“You hadn’t considered that, had you? Have you considered the scrutiny you’ll have to endure? What the cops might inadvertently turn up on you? Are you prepared to go to prison for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t think that would happen,” I murmured.

“You think you’d get away with it all?” God asked incredulously. “How many people have you killed?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think Delveccio would let me go to prison. I think he’d have me taken out. He’d have to be crazy not to.”

An awkward silence filled the car as we both absorbed the truth I’d voiced.

I took in a deep shuddering breath.

“You can do this, Maggie,” God coached softly. “You breathe. You smile. You play dumb. That’s all it will take.”

I nodded shakily.

“You need to be inside the building when the body is found, if it happens during your shift,” he decided. “Grab half a sandwich and go.”

“I want to puke,” I protested. “I can’t possibly eat.”

“You don’t have to. Just carry it with you. If anyone saw you heading outside, you can argue you were starving, not running from a crime scene.”

There was a certain logic to his crazy plan, so I reached into the cooler Templeton had packed and pulled out half of the turkey wrap he’d prepared.

“Take a bite,” God urged.

I shook my head.

“It’ll look more convincing if it’s half-eaten.”

I swallowed hard and forced down a mouthful, fighting the urge to gag. “I don’t think this will work.”

“I know it will,” God said with a surprising amount of confidence.

“How?”

“Because the letters spelled RATIONS and Armani’s tile predictions always save you.”

“They do,” I admitted, looking down at the sandwich. “Rations.”

“Feel better?” he asked encouragingly.

“Definitely not.”

22

As I walked back toward the building, white knuckling the sandwich, God continued to coach me. "You should go feed some of the meat to the falcons," he said.

"Why?" I muttered under my breath, wondering if he believed that the birds of prey could destroy my alibi.

"Because it will explain why you were in that room," he said. "Just in case anyone dusts for fingerprints in there."

"Okay," I sighed. I walked back in through the Staff door and made my way straight to see Pam and Dora.

"I brought you some food," I told the birds as I walked into their sanctuary.

"They feed us steak,” Dora said, turning her back on me as I dangled a piece of turkey lunchmeat in front of her.

"I'll take it," Pam said. She ripped it from my fingers.

"You're not going to set us free, are you?" Dora accused.

"I don't know," I told them. "I'd like to, but figuring out how is a little tricky."

"What are you doing in here?" Heath bellowed, walking into the room behind me.

I whirled around, startled by his arrival.

"Feeding the birds," I replied awkwardly.

"Who do you think you are? " he demanded to know. "The old lady in the park from Mary Poppins?"

God began to sing off-key. "Feed the birds, tuppence a bag.”

"They're fed a very specific diet," Heath continued. “Get out!"

I backed away, and scurried out of the room, as Pam screeched after me, "Don't forget about us!"

I wandered back to the changing room with the remains of the sandwich still clutched in my hand.

"That looks good," one of the knights said, eyeing my feast. "Where did you get that?"

"I brought it from home," I told him.

"I'm Jimmy," he said, extending his hand.

"Betsy," I said. I held up my sandwich and apologized, "Forgive me for not shaking. I'm a little messy."

"You're a hot mess," God muttered so that only I could hear.

"You’re the new wench?" Jimmy asked.

I nodded.

"How are you liking it?"

Considering I'd recently stumbled and fell into a dead body, I wasn't liking it at all. But I couldn't tell him that. "It's hard work," I admitted.

He nodded. “Try having the other guys beat up on you three days a week.” He yanked his shirt up and showed me his bruised ribs.

"Who did that to you?" I gasped.

“The White Knight," he said. "He's the same one who clocked the Silent Knight for no reason on Friday. He has anger management issues."

"So why do they keep him on the staff?" I asked.

"He's the best," Jimmy revealed with a shrug. "Best horse rider, best archer, and best swordsman. He's a jerk, but they can't afford to let him go."

I nodded, storing the information away. "What's his real name?"

"Why?" Jimmy asked. "You go for the bad guys?"

"Sometimes," I admitted. It wasn't a lie, I just didn't mean it in the way that he meant.

"All the time," God corrected. "Patrick is a paid assassin and Gino was the mob boss’s right-hand man. You do not pick the cream of the crop, Maggie."

Jimmy looked around and then slapped his ear twice. "I hear squeaking."

I stared up at him blankly. Pretending I didn't hear it, too.

"Yo, Jimmy, poker game," one of the other knights called from further down the hallway.

"Nice meeting you, Betsy," Jimmy said, and then ran off to play with his buddies.

I wondered if they were going to set up their game in the weight room. I hurried back to the changing area, hoping to find some other women to be with when the news of Petunia’s body was revealed.

"You can dump the sandwich now," God said. “You had two people witness you carrying it around. After a while, people are going to wonder why you never finished it."

I chucked the remains of the sandwich in the nearest garbage can and strode into the changing room with a smile pasted on my face. Ellie was hunched over her phone, saying, "I can't!" Seeing me, she raised one finger, indicating she’d be with me in just a moment.

I turned away, trying to give her some privacy.

"Fine," I heard her mutter.

"Hey, Betsy," she said in a voice that was strained as she tried to sound cheery. "How did your first Saturday lunch crowd go?"

"It wasn't bad," I said. “There are some really cute kids celebrating."

"Yeah," she said with a genuine smile. “That's one of my favorite parts of the job, watching how into it the kids get."

"What will the crowd be like tonight?”

She rolled her eyes. "They're the worst," she told me. "But tomorrow's lunch group will be fun, more kids again."

"How long have you been doing this job?" I asked her.

"Ummm… About a year," she said. "I'm due to get a promotion soon."

“To what?" I asked.

"Princess," she said. “I have seniority as a server, and the next time a princess leaves, their job will be mine. At least, it should be."

"Is there a lot of turnover in that position?" I asked.

She nodded. “You don't get any tips and the boss is handsy."

"The boss?" I hadn't seen anyone who seemed to be in charge of everybody in the entire time I’d been here. At that moment, it occurred to me that that was strange.

"The king," Ellie clarified.

"So why don't they complain about the king to somebody?" I asked.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You don't understand. The king is the owner of this franchise."

"He gave himself the role of King?" I asked.

She nodded.

"That may be the very definition of narcissism," God muttered from my bra.

I didn't think he was wrong.

As though he'd somehow known that we were talking about him, there was a quick knock at the changing room door, and then the king, himself, strode in. He looked disappointed to not find his employees in a state of undress.

"You're the new girl, aren't you?" he asked, his gaze zooming in on me.

"Calm and clueless," God reminded me.

I offered the man what I hoped came across as a sweet smile. "I am, Your Majesty." I added a curtsy for good measure.

He threw back his head and laughed. "You may work out quite well." Then, he focused on Ellie. "Do you know where Lorna is?"

"No, sir," Ellie said politely. "Do you want me to go find her?"

He shook his head and said, "It wasn't important. Just tell her to come find me if you happen to see her." With that, he turned and walked back out.

Ellie rolled her eyes.

"Is he the head of the whole franchise?" I began to ask, “or…"

A scream of terror echoed down the hallway.

I held my breath, waiting for the big reveal.

"He's dead!" someone yelled. "Petunia’s dead."

Ellie paled and swayed weakly.

Instinctively, I crossed the distance between us to support her. "Breathe," I urged.

"First, Mariah, and now, Petunia," she said. "This is terrible!"

"It is," I murmured in agreement.

But I was going to get to the bottom of it.

23

It didn't take the cops long to shut the entire place down.

It occurred to me that if somebody wanted to put Knight Fights out of business, committing two murders in the span of less than ten days might do the job.

The police gathered all of the employees into the middle of the arena and lined us up like we were suspects. The king stood off to the side, deep in conversation with the detective in charge.

I did my best to appear calm and clueless.

Beside me, Ellie was a nervous wreck. "I don't understand," she said for the umpteenth time.

The Blue Queen, Lorna, who was standing on the other side of her, snapped, "What's there to understand? Petunia is dead. His head was bashed in."

I wondered how she knew that, and mentally moved her up my list of suspects. Not that I thought that the older woman had the upper body strength to actually pull the move off herself, but it seemed suspicious that she knew about the big man's manner of death.

She glanced over at me and sneered. "I heard the cops talking," she said, answering my unasked question.

"That's terrible," I said.

She shrugged. "Maybe that's what he got for playing favorites."

"Don't say that!" Ellie cried. "He was always nice to me."

"That's because you're a pretty young thing," the Blue Queen told her. "And he was a man."

"I think their main suspect is Maurice," Ellie suggested.

I followed her line of sight and saw that a number of police officers were surrounding the green-faced man. He had his arms crossed over his chest defensively and was staring down at the ground, shaking his head.

"It could be Adam," the Blue Queen suggested.

"Adam! Seriously?" Ellie squeaked in disbelief. "Adam the angel?"

"I saw them arguing in the stable, earlier," the queen informed us haughtily.

"Are you going to tell the police?" Ellie asked.

"Of course," the queen said.

I watched her expression carefully, wondering what she'd been doing in the stable in order to see the men fight.

"Well, in that case," Ellie said, as though she was somehow retaliating, "I'm going to tell them that I saw Petunia and the White Knight arguing."

"About what?" the Blue Queen asked curiously.

“A complaint from another employee.”

It took over an hour before the cops let us go sit in the spectator seats as they slowly questioned each and every one of us. When it was my turn, I was lucky to get a young cop who took one look at me and said, "I doubt you could bash anyone's head in."

Tucked away in my bra, God chortled softly.

"Probably not," I said, blinking my eyes innocently.

"Did you have any arguments with the man known as Petunia?" the cop asked in a bored tone.

I shook my head.

"Did you hear anybody arguing with him?" he asked.

"No, sir."

He stood up a little straighter when I referred to him as sir.

"But then again," I told him, “I've only worked here a couple of days."

"Trial by fire, huh?"

I nodded. And with that, he moved on to Ellie, who spun her story about the White Knight and Petunia arguing about his treatment of the staff.

I took the opportunity to look around and saw that some cops were still gathered around Maurice, and another group had circled around Heath.

It occurred to me that I could just go ask the falcons if they thought their handler was guilty. One way or the other, I'd be able to determine if he should be on my suspect list.

After another hour, they sent us home.

"Now what are we going to do?" God asked.

"Now, I'm going to get some answers from Whitehat," I told him. I dialed her number and waited for her to respond.

"I take it they let you go," she said as a way of greeting.

"Yes," I confirmed. "And now I need you to explain to me exactly what's going on."

She gave me an address and told me to meet her there in thirty minutes. Before I could protest, she disconnected the call.

"She's a control freak," I muttered.

"You're just figuring this out?" God asked sarcastically.

"What did you think of the queen's story about Adam?" I asked as I began to drive toward the address I’d been given.

"Sometimes killers look like angels," he declared.

"And we already know that the White Knight has a violent temper from the way he attacked the Silent Knight in the arena," I pointed out.

"So, they’re at the top of your suspect list?" God surmised.

I shrugged. "It looked like Maurice and/or Heath were at the top of the cops’ list."

"But what was the killer’s motive?" the lizard asked.

"I have no idea," I told him. "But I'm going to find out."

24

The address that Ms. Whitehat had given me took me to a parking lot beside an abandoned dry cleaner. Her white SUV was already parked beneath the streetlight when I got there.

The driver of her vehicle hopped out and opened the rear passenger door, silently signaling that I was meant to join her inside. I climbed out of my car and into hers.

We sat in silence for a long minute. I'd predetermined that I wasn't going to pepper her with questions. I expected her to give me the answers that I needed without my interrogating her.

A slight smile played at her lips. She turned to watch me staring at her. "Well played, Ms. Lee," she said with something that sounded like respect.

"There is a rumor that the Knight Fights franchise is a front for transporting stolen gems," she revealed.

I raised my eyebrows.

"According to the rumor, they move the jewels as part of their props and costumes. As you may know, Knight Fights is franchised in 40 of the contiguous United States.”

"And that is worth killing two people over?" I asked.

She shrugged. "People have been killed for much less."

I nodded, knowing that she was right. "We embedded a number of assets in the New Jersey Knight Fights, since the company's owner works there."

I nodded, thinking of the king.

"If his business is a cover for this illegal activity, he's probably involved," she continued. She turned and stared out the window into the darkness before adding, "We didn't realize it would be such a violent assignment."

"And you've gotten two people killed," I pointed out.

She shook her head. "It shouldn't have gone this way. Maybe a little bit of violence at the time of the actual takedown, but who kills off someone in a crowd of people like that? It’s bad for business."

That had been bothering me, too. "I should have been able to save her," I said quietly.

"No!" The vehemence with which she said it startled me, and I sat back in my seat.

"It was just dumb luck that you were there," she said. "It wasn't your responsibility. Her safety was my job."

I kindly did not point out that she was not doing her job well.

"You're not going back in," Whitehat said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't expect you to go back undercover there, Ms. Lee. It's too dangerous."

"So, you're just going to let them get away with it?"

She shook her head. "We’re going to hope that the police are able to bring the killer to justice."

I rolled my eyes. "I doubt that's going to happen, and it's not going to do anything about your smuggling problem."

"We can't win all of our battles," she said. "Sometimes you have to know when to just give up and pack up.”

"I'm not giving up," I said with quiet determination.

"You can't go back," Whitehat said, turning to stare into my eyes. "It's too dangerous."

"I've been in worse situations,” I told her. “I can handle this."

She frowned. "I don't like it."

"You are not able to stop me," I told her. "I started this. I'm going to finish it."

She tilted her head back and examined me.

"You've changed," she murmured thoughtfully.

I didn't know what she meant by that, but I wasn't about to ask.

"I could use some backup," I told her.

"You'll have it," she promised. "I'll leave a team waiting just outside the arena. One call to me, and they’ll be there within a minute."

“Great," I told her. "I also need some sleep, so I'm going home now." I opened the car door and slid out.

"Ms. Lee," she called after me.

I hesitated before slamming the door shut.

"Thank you," she murmured with genuine gratitude.

I nodded, closed the door, and got back into my car.

"Are you crazy?" God demanded to know. "Are you mad? Insane? Out of your mind? Nutso?”

"You don't like those terms," I reminded him mildly, refusing to get defensive.

"That's because, most of the time, they don't apply," he said indignantly. "She offered you an out and you refused to take it."

"Two people have died," I said. "I'm not going to let their deaths be in vain."

"You have more faith in your abilities than either she or I do," he pointed out.

"Fine," I told him. "You can stay at home, while I finish this thing."

The trip back to the house was spent in seething silence. Neither of us spoke, caught up in our own thoughts and strong emotions.

I parked at the top of the driveway, not wanting to alert any of the human members of my family that I'd returned. Alejandro trotted out to me as I climbed out of the car, carrying the lizard. "Do you require aid, Maggie Lee?" he asked in his lilting accent.

"No," I told him. "I'm fine.

"Then I shall lead you to your home," he declared.

I followed him, on foot, down the driveway toward the house. Before we reached it, Rowdy and Twitch crossed our path.

"We need to talk," Rowdy said excitedly. "I figured it out. I figured out who your thief is." The raccoon spoke quickly, and with obvious excitement.

"Hi, Maggie," Twitch said shyly.

I picked up the little rabbit and cuddled him to my chest. "How are you?"

"Who cares how he is," Rowdy said. "Didn’t you hear me? I think I figured out who the thief is."

"Who?" I asked.

"Pierce," the raccoon announced proudly.

"Who’s Pierce?" I asked, confused.

"He's a crow," Rowdy explained. "If you ask Mike about him, he'll tell you that he's the Lothario of the murder."

I blinked, trying to make sense of that statement. "And you're sure it's him?"

"Positive," the raccoon said. "He only steals one shiny thing at a time. Does that sound familiar?"

"It does," I admitted. Mike had been known to do the same thing. "But how did you figure out it was this Pierce?"

“I suspected him immediately," she said with all the self-importance a teenager can muster. "So then, once you gave me the go-ahead, I followed him. I found his treasure trove. I can take you to it."

"That'll be great," I told her. “Good work. But we’re going to have to do it some other time because I'm really tired right now."

"Okay," Rowdy said easily. "I would like ice cream."

"What?"

"Ice cream," she said. “I would like ice cream as my reward." With that, she ran off into the woods.

Twitch wriggled around in my arms until I put him on the ground, and then he hopped after her.

"At least one mystery has been solved," God said quietly.

"How am I going to tell Griswald the thief is a bird?” I muttered with dismay.

"You'll figure it out.”

"Thought you didn't have any faith in me," I reminded him.

"I shouldn't have said that," he admitted. "I'm just worried about you."

I nodded, I was worried, too, but I was going to take action.

25

I managed to slip into the house unnoticed by any humans. I quickly made my way to my bedroom and found the cat and dog sprawled out on the bed.

"Maggie!" DeeDee woofed softly as I placed God in his enclosure.

"How was your day, Sugar?" Piss purred.

"Terrible," I told her as I set an alarm on my phone. "I just want to go to sleep.” I climbed into bed between them, closed my eyes, and was out in just moments.

A few hours later, the buzzing of the phone awakened me. I sleepily turned it off and sat up.

"It's the middle of the night," the cat told me.

"I know," I said, swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress. "I need to go check something out. Will you come with me?"

"Of course." She leapt off the bed and waited at the door.

"Too me?” DeeDee asked hopefully.

I kissed the top of her head. "No, sweetie, I need you to stay and guard the girls for me."

"Okay," she panted good-naturedly.

"You’re not leaving me behind," God declared as I quickly changed clothes out of what I had worn the day before into a fresh set. "I'm not letting you go back there alone," he said forcefully.

"I’m bringing Piss," I told him.

"Me too! Me too! Me too!" Benny squeaked softly.

"You go find Rowdy, and tell her I could use her help," I requested of the cat before letting her out of the bedroom. DeeDee followed, no doubt going to take up position outside the room of my nieces. She ran off as I finished getting dressed.

"Don’t leave me here," God warned, a pleading note winding its way through his voice.

"If you're sure," I said.

"Positive."

I dropped him into my bra and Benny into my pocket.

The cat and raccoon were waiting by my car by the time I hiked up the driveway to where I’d parked.

"This might be dangerous," I warned them.

"I'm not scared," Rowdy declared.

"I am," God said. "But that doesn't mean that we’re letting her go alone."

I opened the door, and the cat and raccoon jumped onto the floor of the front passenger seat.

I climbed behind the steering wheel, took a deep breath, and started us on our journey.

I parked two blocks away from the Knight Fights arena.

"Smart," God complimented as I opened my door. The cat and the raccoon scrambled over my lap and leapt outside before I could even put my foot on the asphalt.

"Where to?" Piss asked.

"This way." I led them down the street, toward our destination.

"What are you expecting to find?" God asked.

"I don't know," I said, “but whatever is there, it cost two people their lives. We have to find it sooner rather than later."

There were no vehicles in the parking lot, and no lights on inside the building.

Reaching the front door, I jiggled the handle. It was locked.

"Did you expect them to leave it open for you?" God asked testily.

"I thought maybe with all the confusion, it might have been accidentally left unlocked," I admitted.

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my lock picking kit.

"You should've asked Hunting to come along," God said. "He could've gotten this door open in a jiffy.”

"Jiffy," Piss mocked.

“I should've asked Nat," I admitted aloud.

"Hi,” someone whispered from behind me.

Letting out a startled gasp, I whirled around, wielding my lock pick case like a weapon. Eyes. Nose. Throat. Groin.

The man I faced took a step backwards and held up his hands defensively. "Whoa."

“Nat," I sighed with relief.

"You need a hand with that?" he asked, indicating the door handle.

I nodded.

He handed a flashlight to me and took the lock picks I held. He inserted a couple, jiggled them for about half a second, and was rewarded with a loud click. "There you go."

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Opening the door for you," he said, pulling it wide so that I could step inside.

"Did Whitehat send you?"

"Tell me again why you call her that," he said with a soft chuckle.

I punched his shoulder. "Answer my questions."

He glanced down at me. "I'm immune to your torture."

"I could hit you harder," I threatened.

"But you won't," he said, “because you're secretly glad I'm here."

"But I don't know why you're here," I told him with irritation.

"Because I knew you'd come back," he said tiredly. "I know you, Lee. You don't know how to let things go."

"But how did you know I was here in the first place?" I asked. He pointed to the bruise that I had noticed before on his cheek. "Let me properly introduce myself, Betsy," he stressed my alias.

"I'm the Silent Knight."

I blinked, shocked, "Really?"

"Why would I lie about having such a stupid name?" he asked.

"But that means, you've been here for a while," I said, trying to make sense of what he revealed.

He nodded.

"You knew Mariah."

"I did," he said softly. "And her death is yet another reason why I couldn't let you come back here alone."

The depth of his emotion as he spoke startled me. Usually, he played things light and cheery. It was disquieting to have him sounding so serious. "You're blaming yourself,” I guessed, “for her death."

He looked away and shrugged. "I don't even know what she found," he said. “I was doing meet and greet photos out in the lobby.”

"You are the knight I ran into when I was here with the family," I said, smacking my forehead with my open palm.

"Took you long enough to figure it out," he chuckled. "At the rate we're going, we’re not going to find whatever it is we’re looking for here."

He took one of the flashlights back, turned it on, and ushered me inside. He held the door to allow the animals to follow. "Any idea what we’re looking for?"

"None," I admitted, fumbling to turn on my own beam. "I was trying to search the weight room when I stumbled upon Petunia’s body."

“Technically, you stumbled on the body," God felt the need to point out.

"Whatever it is, it's not in there," Nat assured me. "I've searched the whole thing multiple times while pretending to work out."

I’d seen Nat Hunting shirtless, and I sincerely doubted that he ever pretended to work out, but I didn't comment on his physique. Instead, I said, "I need to go see the horses.”

"Okay," Nat agreed. “I'll check Petunia's office. Maybe he'd found something and left us a clue there."

As we started to head in opposite directions, Nat called softly, "Be careful, Maggie. This is a dangerous place."

"You too," I murmured.

"What do you want us to do?" Rowdy asked.

"Take a look around," I said. "Just let me know if you find anything that appears to be illegal."

"You got it, Sugar," Piss said, and ran off into the darkness.

The raccoon lagged behind. "Why did you ask me to come along?"

"Because you did such an impressive job solving the burglaries," I told her honestly. "I need all the help I can get, and you're good at it."

The raccoon made a delighted chittering sound and ran off.

"I think that's gonna go to her head," the lizard on my shoulder commented.

"I can help. I can help. I can help," Benny announced.

"Okay," I said, taking him out of my pocket, “but be super careful." I pressed a kiss to the top of his head and put him down on the floor. He zoomed off.

"It's just you and me, kid," God said.

"And eighteen horses," I told him. We made our way down to the stables and heard the whinnying of the equine members of the cast.

"Hi," I called softly. "I’m Maggie. I'm not here to hurt you."

"She must not be up to any good," one of the horses called to her companions worriedly. "It's dark."

"I know it's dark," I told her, "and I didn't mean to scare you, but I promise that I'm not up to no good."

"She speaks!" one of the other horses whinnied excitedly.

"She understands us," a third horse said.

I let my flashlight beam wash over their faces and saw they were all watching me, slightly wild-eyed.

"Say something else, Maggie," a fourth horse implored.

"What else would you like me to say?" I asked. "I do understand you. And I hope you'll help me."

“With what?" the first horse who had spoken asked.

"I understand that Petunia and Adam had a fight here recently," I began. "Can you tell me what it was about?"

"Adam?" one of the horses asked, clearly confused.

"The little man who wears the bird head," another exclaimed.

"He never comes here unless it’s knight training time," the lead horse told me. "He's not allowed. He tried once and the king punished him."

"Punished him how?" I asked.

“He threatened to fire him," the horse revealed.

"He's never been back since," another horse added.

"So, he wasn't here and didn't have a fight with Petunia?" I asked, looking for clarification. I wondered why the Blue Queen had told us this lie, and if she had passed the story on to the police. Was Adam being made a patsy for Petunia’s death?

"No," the lead horse confirmed. "Petunia fought with Jonah."

"The juggler?" I asked.

"Yes," the horse confirmed.

"Do you know what they were fighting about?"

"Bothering one of the girls," the horse replied. “A human girl.”

"Did they say which one?" I asked hopefully.

"They did not," the horse said.

"Well, thank you for your help," I said.

"Thank you for talking to us, Maggie," the horse replied.

In unison, all the horses bowed to me.

"And I bet that's going to go to your head," God teased as we walked back out of the stable area.

"Why would Lorna lie?" I asked, ignoring his dig. "Why would she want Adam blamed for Petunia’s death?"

"Maybe it was a classic misdirection," the lizard suggested. "Maybe she clocked him herself.”

"It would take a lot of strength," I argued. "I don't think she is tall or strong enough."

"She could be if he was sitting," the lizard pointed out.

Before we could continue our discussion, we heard someone calling, "Hello?"

I immediately turned off my flashlight and pressed my back against the wall. Somebody was coming.

26

Somehow, probably because of blind luck, I managed to avoid the man that was searching the bowels of the arena. I made it to the exit door at the same time as Piss and Rowdy.

"We gotta get out of here, Sugar," the cat insisted.

I pushed the door open, and they scooted out into the night. I hesitated, unsure of where Benny and Nat were.

"Let’s go! It's not going to help anybody if you get caught," God urged.

"I can't leave them here," I said.

"Benny can hide anywhere," the lizard pointed out. "Hunting's fairly resourceful."

"Go!" a voice whispered urgently.

Peering into the shadows, I saw Nat Hunting sprinting toward me.

I jumped out the door and held it open for him until he was outside. Together, we ran across the parking lot, back toward the block where I parked my car.

"That was close," I said, gasping for breath after we'd rounded the corner.

"Did you see who it was?" Nat asked.

"No. You?"

He shook his head. “Did you find anything?”

It was my turn to shake my head. "We can't risk going back there tonight," I declared.

"I agree," Nat said. "We'll have to wait until business hours tomorrow."

"Assuming that the cops even let them open for business," I said.

"They will," he said. "The city wants the tax revenue."

When we reached my car, he said, "I'm starving. You want to go get breakfast?"

"That's a great idea." We drove over to a diner, took the orders for the cat and raccoon, who we left in the car, and went in and found a booth in the back.

He smiled flirtatiously at the waitress, signaling that I should be silent for a moment before speaking.

We ordered coffee and omelets. I got mine with sides of Taylor ham and extra crisp bacon for the cat and raccoon, respectively. The waitress’s eyes widened at the size of my order, but she had the good sense not to comment aloud.

"I think that Adam is in the clear," I told Nat as soon as she’d left us alone.

"I didn't know he wasn't in the clear," Nat replied. "I don't think the guy’s big enough to have driven that sword into a loaf of bread, let alone a human being."

"He certainly isn't tall enough to be the person I saw chasing her through the crowd," I confirmed. "But somebody seemed intent on framing him for Petunia’s passing."

"Why?" he asked. "He's just a sweet kid."

I nodded. "Maybe because he’s easy to frame?”

"Any other theories you want to share?" Nat asked after the waitress had brought our coffee.

I shook my head. I studied him for a moment and then asked, "Are you working for the insurance company?"

"What insurance company?" he asked, sipping from his cup.

"Well, Whitehat told me that this has something to do with missing gems. I thought maybe they were insured."

He shook his head. "I've heard that story, I don't think that's what it is."

"You're not going to tell me why you were there?" I asked impatiently. He considered me for a long moment. "You know I work for a number of organizations, right?"

I nodded. "Whitehat's group is chasing rumors about missing jewels. The people I'm working for, they're looking for high-quality pharmaceuticals."

I stared at him. "So, we’re thinking that Knight Fights is a front for both jewel and drug smuggling?"

He shrugged. "Maybe it's one or the other, maybe it's both, I don't know. But we do know that two murders have been committed. Something is definitely going on there."

I nodded.

"You going to work today?" he asked, his tone overly casual.

"Of course."

"Because I heard rumblings that half the staff isn’t going to show up," he said. "Nobody would blame the new girl if she quit."

I shook my head. "I'm not quitting. I am finding whoever killed Mariah and Petunia."

He nodded slowly. "Please be careful."

"You too," I said. "I heard that the White Knight delivered a pretty serious blow to you.” I reached across the table and traced the outline of the bruise on his cheek. He stayed very still, his eyes watching mine. Suddenly, realizing that what I was doing could be construed as an intimate act, I drew back. I cleared my throat. "What do you think of Maurice?"

"The dragon guy?"

I nodded.

The waitress placed our orders in front of us and announced she’d be back with more coffee, then walked away

"I hadn't really considered Maurice," Nat admitted. "Why? Do you have a feeling about him or something?"

I shrugged and dug into my eggs. "He seems a little controlling under the guise of being protective."

"How so?"

I told him about the exchange we had about El Mejor not liking employees hanging around.

"Who?" Nat asked.

"El Mejor," I repeated. "I assumed that was the nickname of the boss."

"Well, in Spanish it means ‘the best’ so I guess that’s one way to refer to a boss," Nat revealed.

"Either way," I said. "Maurice seemed a little too interested in my business."

Nat nodded and focused on eating for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Mariah never mentioned having a problem with him."

"Did you know her well?" I asked. It felt strange to be questioning him about a dead woman.

He shook his head. "It was our first time working together and we didn't really work directly with one another. My best guess is that she figured something out, but before she had time to tell anyone about her discovery, she was killed."

"She was killed in a crowd," I said, shaking my head at the memory of our collision and her subsequent death. "It was very important to someone that she not share her discovery."

"What's worth killing two people over?" Nat asked.

I shrugged.

After breakfast, we went our separate ways. I drove Piss and Rowdy home after they’d gorged on their favorite breakfast meats. I dropped them off at the end of the driveway.

When she got out of the car, Piss looked back at me with her good eye. “You’ll find Benny, won’t you?”

“I will,” I promised.

Rowdy threw her front arm around the cat's neck and licked her ear. "She will," she told her feline friend. "Maggie always does what she says she's going to."

"It'll be okay," I promised the cat.

I watched as she and the raccoon headed down the driveway, where they were met by Alejandro. Then, I headed back to Knight Fights.

There were very few cars in the parking lot, and I wondered if Nat's prediction about half the staff not showing up for work had been correct. Doing my best to look normal, I headed inside the building.

"You're here." The king sighed with relief as soon as I walked in the door. “Fantastic! I need you to take Ellie’s section.”

"She's not coming in?" I asked. I was surprised, considering how much she had looked forward to her potential job promotions.

"She's here," the king said, "but I need her to play the part of the Blue Queen. She's the only one who knows the part."

I wondered how, exactly, Ellie had been bumped from serving wench straight to queen, but didn’t voice the question.

"The queen and princess didn’t show up," the king explained. "So, Ellie is Queen, and you're covering your section and hers.”

I nodded my understanding. Wringing his hands, he rushed off.

I changed into my serving wench costume and walked into the arena to double-check that both my area and Ellie's former area were clean and ready for service.

Looking down into the center of the arena, I spotted Jonah and Maurice in a heated argument. Past them, Heath was working with the falcons. I waved at the birds.

Immediately, they both took off from their trainer and flew straight at me. Unsure of what to do, I held both my arms out so that I looked like a letter T. A bird landed on each of my arms. I winced as their sharp talons scratched at my bare skin.

"Have you figured out a plan to free us, yet?" Dora demanded to know.

"I'm working on it," I lied without moving my lips.

Down in the arena, Heath blew his training whistle. The birds ignored him.

"You'll have to do it before we get shut down," Pam urged. "Otherwise, we’ll end up in a zoo. People will gawk at us!" She shuddered at the idea.

"Nobody is going to shut anything down," I told them.

"You're a fool," Dora screeched. "That's what this has all been about."

Flapping their wings, they both took off.

"No, wait!" I shouted. "Come back."

They flew straight back to Heath.

"What did that mean," I asked God. "That's what this was all about?"

"They’re bird brains," the lizard said. "I'm not sure that I would put too much credence in anything they say."

"But—" I began to protest.

The trumpets sounded, letting the staff know that the audience would be allowed in at any moment.

Heath jogged out with the birds perched on his shoulders. Maurice and Jonah hurried out of the arena.

I headed down to the kitchen. On my way, I passed Ellie. She was decked out in the bejeweled belongings of the Blue Queen.

"You look beautiful," I told her.

She beamed. "I can't believe I'm finally here. It's like a dream come true." Hitching up her long gown, she hurried to take her place on the throne in the arena.

"It's more like a living nightmare," God felt the need to point out.

I didn’t disagree with him.

27

I'd almost reached the kitchen when a knight came lumbering up to me, blocking my path.

Since his mask was down, I wasn't sure who was in the costume. I waited, looking up at him expectantly.

"We’ve got a problem," Nat said. “A big problem.” He opened his visor so that I could at least see his eyes.

"And that is?" I whispered, glancing around, trying to see if anybody was paying any attention to our conversation.

"They're here," he said, sounding panicked.

"Who?" I asked. If it was the cops, we hadn't done anything wrong…for once. Well, a little breaking and entering, maybe, but in the grand scheme of murdering and smuggling, what was a little breaking and entering?

"Your family," he stressed.

I gulped as a wave of terror engulfed me. "My family?" I squeaked nervously.

He nodded. "Why didn't you tell me that they rescheduled their visit?"

"Because I didn't know," I said.

"And Griswald is with them," Nat added. "He probably took your spot."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I can't go out there and serve, they’ll see me.”

"Maybe we should pull a fire alarm," he suggested.

“Let's just cause more chaos in a place where there's been two murders,” I replied sarcastically.

"So, what do you want to do?" Nat asked. "You could just quit. You could do that. Just make a break for it. I wouldn't think any less of you."

I shook my head.

“Places!" People began to shout. "Everyone in their places!"

"I support whatever you do," Nat said desperately, before awkwardly pivoting and hurrying away to fulfill his role in the show, his armor clanging with every step.

I leaned weakly against the wall behind me. "I don't know what to do.”

"If the family sees you, you're going to have a hard time explaining why you are here," God pointed out.

"Maybe not," I said, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Maybe I can say that, coming here, I was overwhelmed by the happy memories that I'd made when Aunt Susan had brought us here when my sisters and I were kids and I wanted to be a part of that again."

"You are such an awful liar," God groaned. "Nobody is going to believe you."

"Do you have any better suggestions?" I asked.

"Betsy!" somebody yelled from the kitchen "Betsy? Are you working or not?"

I pushed myself off the wall. "I'm here. I'm coming."

I went and grabbed my tray. Keeping it perfectly balanced on my shoulder, I hurried toward my section. "Maybe they’ll be seated on the other end of the arena,” I said hopefully.

"I'm sorry," God said sarcastically. "Haven't you ever seen how your life goes? They’re probably sitting right in your section.”

I stumbled slightly when he voiced that scenario. I paused for a moment to get myself rebalanced. That’s when I heard what sounded like groaning. I stopped, put the giant tray down on a nearby table, and turned in the direction of the noise, searching for its source.

I walked down the hallway, past three doors, before I found the person who was moaning in pain.

I bent down beside the man, who was clutching his head. At least, since he was writhing on the floor making agonized noises, I knew he was still alive. Otherwise, the blood pooling from his forehead would have made me think he was already dead.

"I'm going to get you help," I said, crouching down beside him. “But first, we need to put pressure on that wound.” I ripped off my apron and held it against where the blood was gushing.

He rolled over slightly and stared up at me. His face was green.

"Maurice?"

"He's going to burn it all down," he gasped.

"Who?" I asked, bending closer so that I could hear his answer more clearly. He pointed past me.

"Look out! Look out! Look out!" a voice squeaked from behind me.

Turning toward Benny, I barely saw the flash of red that was speeding toward my head. I ducked away, instinctively raising my arm to protect myself. The metal bounced off my elbow and the blow knocked me to the ground. Instinctively, I dropped the rest of the way and rolled away from my attacker.

"Look out! Look out! Look out!” Benny urged again.

As I scrambled out of his path, I realized that Curt, the pyro guy, was trying to bash my head in with a fire extinguisher.

"Help!" God screamed. "Help!"

To me, it sounded like he was screaming at the top of his lungs, but anybody else would've heard a small squeak. I kicked out at Curt’s knee, trying to land a blow that would at least slow him down. Enraged, he swung harder with the fire extinguisher.

It bounced off my shoulder and I screamed in pain.

Convinced that I was down for the count, he ran from the room, closing the door behind him and locking us in.

Despite the dizzying pain that was traveling the length of my arm and up my neck, I forced myself to stand. Maurice had gone still. I didn't know if he was unconscious or dead. I was trapped, and he had said that Curt was going to burn the place down.

I knew that in order to save the most lives, I had to get out of this room. I limped over to the door and tugged at the handle, but it wouldn’t move.

"Benny," I called.

"I'm here! I'm here! I'm here!" The little white mouse ran over to stand directly in front of me.

"Can you get out of this room?" I asked.

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Then, I need you to go find help," I told him. "Do whatever you have to do but find me some help."

"I'll save you! I'll save you! I’ll save you!" My rodent friend raced out of the room.

"Who do you think he can recruit?" God asked. “Nobody’s coming. You have to save yourself."

"I'm going to try," I told him. I grabbed the door handle again, but it wouldn't turn. I began to pound on the door, screaming, "Let me out! Help! Let me out!"

Nobody responded. Everybody was busy working their jobs and the noise of the show drowned out my screams.

I turned around, looking for another exit. There were no windows in the room, so that wasn't going to be a way out. The locked door was the only exit route, and it wasn’t available.

I fumbled for my phone. If I could call Nat, he could come and free me. Or I could call Whitehat, and she could send the rescue team in. Pain radiated down my arm as I pulled out my phone. Gritting my teeth, I turned it on, and stared at a shattered screen. I tried to pull up my call list, but nothing happened.

"No, no, no!" I moaned.

"What's wrong?" God asked.

"It's not working. It must have broken when I fell."

"And you wonder why I complain about my sensitive skin," God said. "You have no idea how much force you exhibit when you take one of your tumbles."

"Now is not the time to discuss your sensitive skin," I snapped at him. "My entire family is in that arena and Curt is going to burn it down!"

The lizard fell silent.

All I could hear was my own heavy breathing.

"There has to be another way," he said softly.

If there was, I had no idea what it could be.

"Help!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, ripping my throat raw in my desperation to be heard.

But there was no help coming. I bent and checked on Maurice. While his head was bleeding, he did have a pulse. There was still a chance to save him. But I had to get out of here.

"Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!" Benny came scuttling back under the door.

"Is anybody out there?” I asked the mouse.

"Get away! Get away! Get away!" the little mouse squeaked breathlessly.

"Get away from what?" God asked, confused.

A second later, there was a huge crash and the door went flying into the room, knocked clean off its hinges.

I stared at the back end of Fred, the dancing horse.

"You found help," I said in amazement. I scooped up the little mouse, kissed the top of his head, and said, "Thank you so much, Fred."

"We have to stop the fire," God reminded me.

"Fire?" Fred whinnied nervously. Horses are notoriously scared of fire, not that I could blame them.

"We have to get to the arena," I told him. “We have to stop Curt."

28

Despitre his fear, Fred knelt down on his front legs. "Climb on!" he neighed.

I had never seen anyone ride the dancing horse, and it made me nervous to climb aboard, but I needed to get to the arena as fast as possible. I awkwardly swung my leg up and wrapped one arm around his neck, with my wounded arm, I grabbed onto his mane with my hand, gritting my teeth against the pain. He rose smoothly and began to gallop.

I don't know if you’ve ever ridden a horse, bareback, through the bowels of a large building, but it's terrifying.

I held on for dear life, with Benny screaming like an excited child on a roller coaster ride and God shrieking like someone falling to their death, as Fred galloped through the hallways.

I honestly don't know how I found the physical strength to hang on, as wave after wave of pain and terror beat against me, but somehow, I did. In hindsight, I'm pretty sure that it was the love of and for my family that gave me the strength to hang on.

We burst into the arena, just as the knights were firing their arrows as part of the archery competition.

Somehow, the gray horse that I was, at that point, hanging off, managed to dance between all of the flying arrows and we crossed through the line unscathed.

The audience, thinking that it was part of the show, roared their approval.

"Where is he?" I asked, raising my head. I scanned the area for Curt.

"There!" I said, pointing at the dragon who was lurking in the corner. If Maurice was unconscious in the room where I’d left him, somebody had to be in the dragon costume. What better way to start a fire and burn the place down?

I slid off the horse and stumbled toward the green dragon. "Stop!"

The knights, confused by the interruption of a serving wench stumbling toward a dragon, looked at each other, confused.

“What’s going on?” I heard the knight, Jimmy, ask clearly befuddled.

I ran, or lurched awkwardly, toward Curt. "Stop right there."

"Aunt Maggie!" a voice called from the crowd. Instinctively, I turned toward it, and saw Katie, waving at me wildly. "Hi, Maggie!"

To my horror, I realized my entire family was staring at me. Griswald and Delveccio looked confused, Aunt Susan was giving me a disapproving glare, and Armani had two fingers in her mouth and was whistling encouragement. Everyone else was cheering for me wildly. I waved weakly back at Katie, Alicia, Dominic, Marlene, Loretta, Templeton, Leslie, Archie and Ian.

Curt used my distraction to his advantage.

You just know it's going to be a bad day when you're being chased by a fire-breathing dragon.

I spun back toward him as a wave of heat hit me.

"He’s going to set us on fire first," God panicked. "Run!"

I stumbled, zigzagging as the dragon breathed fire at me. He kept coming.

The crowd cheered, believing the attempted murder was part of the show.

Realizing that in my injured state I couldn’t outrun him, I turned to face my fate.

“We’re going to be roasted alive like hapless marshmallows,” God moaned.

I was pretty sure that marshmallows aren’t burned on a stick weren’t alive, but it wasn’t the time to argue with him. I held my ground and faced Curt down. "You need to evacuate!" I yelled, but nobody could hear me over the cheering crowd. Almost everyone thought it was all part of the act. "He's going to set this place on fire! You need to get out!” I yelled at the knights.

The horses began to nervously back away.

“You need to run, Maggie!" God urged.

Shaking my head, knowing that the lives of my family depended on me, I stayed where I was.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something charging toward me, and I squeezed my good hand into a fist.

Suddenly, the Silent Knight marched his horse to stand in between me and the pyromaniac dragon. The dragon spit fire at him. The horse reared back, and Nat went flying. He landed on the ground with a solid clunk, and I worried that he'd seriously hurt himself, but there wasn't time to tell, because the dragon tried to burn me again.

This time, I ducked away, but still smelled the hair on my arms had been singed.

The other knights, having figured out that there was some serious trouble going on, all galloped out of the arena, which meant that the dragon had plenty of space to maneuver around me and the fallen form of Nat Hunting.

"You're not going to get away with this!" I shouted at Curt.

"This is a fireproof suit," he told me. "And I've rigged this place to blow."

He pushed off the dragon head and held out a remote control. Some in the crowd started to realize that there was a real problem and that this was not part of the Knight show. I heard worried murmuring, followed by panicked screams, but I didn’t dare look away from Curt. His eyes were crazed, and I knew he meant to do what he threatened.

"You don't have to do this," I told him. "We can work something out. We can all walk out of here."

"I've got my escape route all figured out," he assured me. "I'm going to be just fine."

"Ten seconds," he said. “Once I hit this button, there will be a ten-second delay. Ten seconds. Ten seconds later, this place will go up in flames, but I’ll have gotten back into my fireproof suit and will walk out via my planned escape route.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Why does anybody do anything in this world?" he asked bitterly. "Because I like getting paid. You and that other woman just got in my way." He raised the remote control up, his thumb hovering over the red button.

My heart stopped. I wasn’t going to be able to save my family. I fell to my knees. “Please.”

One punch.

That's all it took for Curt to be knocked unconscious. His head snapped back from the blow, and he dropped the remote control before he hit the ground.

I gasped with relief and stared at the person who'd rescued an entire arena full of innocent people.

"Hey, sis," Ian said.

29

Hugging Ian goodbye the next day was awkward. Partly because my arm was cradled in a sling, and partially because I was sobbing uncontrollably.

He had both arms wrapped around me and was pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You’ll come visit," he kept repeating. “I'll come visit."

After he had bravely saved the lives of everyone in the arena, Delveccio had rewarded him and Kristen with a limousine ride to the airport to start off their trip to Arizona.

"I'm only going to be a plane ride away," my brother assured me.

I kept crying. I hadn’t been able to have a proper goodbye with Darlene, or even Gino, really, and all my emotions about feeling alone and abandoned were flowing out like floodwaters.

"They gotta get to security," Delveccio finally said, tugging on my uninjured shoulder. "You have to let them go."

Knowing he was right, I grudgingly released Ian and stepped backward. "I’ll miss you."

"I love you," he choked out. Then, wrapping an arm around Kristen, they disappeared into the airport, swallowed up by the crowd of fellow travelers. I blinked, trying to clear my tears. I rubbed my eyes, but they kept coming.

Delveccio gently led me to the back of the limousine and settled into it beside me. Once the door was closed, he wrapped an arm around me. I sobbed into his shoulder. I'm pretty sure it's not really the best idea to cry on your boss’s shoulder, especially not if he's a mob boss and you’re his paid assassin, but I couldn't stop.

"I miss him, too," Delveccio choked out.

I glanced up at him, surprised.

"I miss Gino, too," he confirmed.

I cried even harder.

I was totally exhausted by the time he dropped me off in front of my home. Just before I got out of the car, he whispered, "Don't worry about Ian and the doc. I got them covered."

I climbed out of the car, offered him a half-hearted smile of thanks, and stood there swaying weakly while the limousine pulled away.

"They’re off?" Aunt Susan asked. She was sitting on the porch in a rocking chair, staring out at the sky. It was odd to see her without a project in hand.

I couldn't speak, so I just nodded.

"Brian’s here," she told me. "He said he needs to ask you some more questions."

I sighed. I'd given the police as much of a truthful story as I could when they’d taken my official statement the day before at Knight Fights, but the pain in my arm had grown unbearable and, eventually, the EMTs who had checked me out convinced the cops to let me go to the hospital. From there, I’d headed home with my entire family. We had gathered in the living room for the entire night, telling stories and laughing. It was a great last goodbye with Ian.

I walked around the back of the house, headed toward the kitchen door.

"Did you tell them yet?" Rowdy asked, scrambling over to me.

"Not yet,” I said tiredly. “I’ll let you know when we need to recover the stolen goods," I told her, wiping away my tears. I headed into the kitchen and found Piss and DeeDee sitting just inside the door, as though they were guarding it.

"You're back," Griswald called as soon as I stepped inside.

"I'm here," I said, my voice raw from the screaming I’d done the day before and the crying I'd just done.

"They got off okay?"

I shrugged and slid into the seat beside Aunt Susan's husband. "I didn't wait around to see."

"Are you up to answering a few more questions?" Detective Brian Griswald asked carefully.

I sighed. "I guess."

"We’ve got almost all the answers," he told me gently. "Curt has admitted to killing both victims and planning on torching the arena. He assaulted you and Maurice, who by the way will be making a full recovery, because he thought you’d figured out his plan."

"He's a monster," I muttered.

"He is, indeed," Brian agreed.

“Did he tell you why?”

“Because he was paid to,” Brian revealed.

“By whom?”

The detective shrugged.

I stared at him.

He sighed. “He took the instructions to kill his victims and burn down the arena via texts on his cell phone. We haven’t been able to figure out who sent the messages, and he claims not to know.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I think so. He’s greedy and seems willing to have done just about anything for money.”

I shook my head, disgusted.

“It’s tragic and frustrating,” Brian admitted.

"So, what do you need from me?" I asked. I’d spun the story about visiting the venue with the family and wanting to be part of the magic. Everyone I’d told the story to seemed to have believed me. I was wondering if Brian had not. There's no way I was going to tell him about Ms. Whitehat's involvement.

"I don't suppose he told you anything about who he was working for," Brian said hopefully.

I shook my head.

He shrugged. "If you think of anything that might point us in the right direction, please let me know right away."

“Sure.”

He stood up and added, "I'm glad you're okay, Maggie. Uncle Larry says you were way more heroic than the knights in the arena." He let himself out of the house and the cat and dog trotted outside with him, as though to ensure he'd reach his car.

"What do you need?" Griswald asked quietly.

"Just some sleep," I told him.

“I'll ensure that the house stays quiet for you," he offered.

I shook my head. “We have something to do, first."

"What's that?"

"We need to go retrieve the stolen goods," I told him.

I could feel the waves of disbelief coming off of him. "You solved it?"

"I observed," I said carefully. "I wouldn't say that I solved it."

“Who was it?" he asked. “I’ll have Brian come back to arrest the thief.”

“Let him go,” I chuckled. “It’ll be easier to show you than to explain." I pushed myself up from the table and swayed weakly as a new wave of pain washed over me.

"Maybe we should wait to do this," Griswald said, putting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

I shook my head. "No, let's finish this."

Before we could even reach the kitchen door, it opened, and a familiar face smiled at me. I started to cry again.

"Come on, Lee," Nat Hunting teased, "I don't look that bad."

"Actually," Griswald said from behind me, “you’re looking pretty rough.”

Not only did Nat have the old bruise from when the White Knight had struck him, but he had a new bruise that covered most of the other side of his face, a result from getting thrown off his horse.

"Armani just told me I'm rocking the pugilist look," he joked.

I squinted at him, unsure if the joke was his own or if he was making fun of my friend’s odd compliment.

"I'm glad you're okay," I choked out. "It was foolish of you to try to get in between me and Curt."

"Like it wasn't foolish of you to try to get between Pyro Curt and everybody else," he said. "You have a strange value system, Lee."

"Pretty easy to understand," Griswald said from behind me. "She loves her family and would do anything to save them."

“You okay, Sugar?” Piss asked, poking her head past Nat.

“I need Rowdy,” I told her.

“On it!” She sped away.

“Where are you going?” Nat asked.

“To retrieve stolen items,” I told him.

“Join us,” Griswald invited.

By the time we got outside, the raccoon was waiting beside the cat.

“Now?” the raccoon asked impatiently.

I nodded.

She began to run off and I followed after her.

“Where are we going?” Nat asked Griswald.

“Beats me,” Susan’s husband replied.

Flanked by Piss and DeeDee, I followed Rowdy as she led us through the woods. The two men followed me, and Twitch and Alejandro brought up the rear of our little caravan.

Rowdy finally stopped and declared, “There!”

I glanced around, unsure of where the stolen loot was.

“Up here!” Mike cawed.

Following the crow’s voice, I looked up and saw the metal shining against the low branches of a nearby oak tree.

“There,” I told Griswald, pointing at the stash.

He looked up and gasped, “I don’t believe it.”

“Our ‘thief’ is a crow who likes shiny things,” I told him. “All of the items that were stolen were near a window with a torn screen.”

“How are we going to get it down?” Griswald wondered aloud.

“I’ll get it,” Rowdy offered. She scooted up the tree, bounced on the branch where the stolen items had been stored, and sent them tumbling to the ground.

Nat laughed with delight, then held his side, wincing in pain. I wondered how badly he’d been hurt in the fall from the horse.

Griswald gathered the missing quarter, locket and an old silver tie bar. “I don’t know how you did it, but this is going to make some of our neighbors very happy. I’ll return their items right now.” Clutching the crow’s booty, he hurried off.

“Thank you,” I told Rowdy as she climbed back down the tree.

“Ice cream,” she reminded me.

I nodded.

“And Piss deserves half of it as a reward, too,” the raccoon admitted.

I looked to the cat, confused. She licked her paw, avoiding my gaze.

“Piss broke the deal!” Twitch announced.

The raccoon corrected the bunny. “Brokered, not broke.”

“What deal?” God asked from my shoulder.

“She convinced Pierce, the crow who curated the collection, that you’d replace it with something of equal value,” Mike explained.

“By curated, you mean stole,” God pointed out.

“I say curator, you say thief,” Mike squawked before flying away.

“Thank you,” I told Piss.

“I don’t want you to think I let you down, Sugar,” she purred softly. She trotted off and Rowdy, Twitch and Alejandro followed her.

DeeDee and Nat remained with me.

He looked up at the tree and said, “I’m glad the raccoon was able to knock them loose. I wouldn’t have wanted to stick my hands in there.”

I chuckled and then froze, a memory tickling at the back of my mind.

“Lee?” Nat asked with alarm. “Are you okay?”

I nodded slowly as the mental pieces of the puzzle slotted into place. “We have to go back to the arena.”

30

“See this yellow tape that says ‘Do Not Cross’? It means this is an active crime scene,” Nat pointed out. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

I nodded.

We were standing by the back door of the Knight Fights arena.

“We’re gonna get caught,” Nat muttered, even as he picked the lock. He opened the door with a flourish.

“You wait here,” I told him.

“What?”

“Wait here.”

He frowned at me. “You never said anything about me waiting in the parking lot while you go traipsing through the building.”

“One, I won’t be traipsing. I know exactly where I’m going. And two, you’ve done enough. You need to stay out here,” I concluded firmly.

“No.”

“No?”

“We’re partners,” he reminded me. “Wherever you go, I go.”

“We weren’t even working for the same organization for this job,” I countered. “Were we?”

He grinned, but didn’t answer.

“Just wait here,” I repeated.

“You’re not going anywhere alone, Lee.”

“What if I’m wrong?” I asked. “What if you’re risking your freedom for nothing.”

“Are you wrong?”

“I don’t think so.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Nat declared.

We stared at each other, locked in a silent showdown.

“With the time you’ve wasted arguing, you could have been in and out already,” God pointed out from my bra. “Go or go not.”

“Fine,” I muttered, charging into the building.

Piss and DeeDee, who I’d brought along as, hopefully, unneeded back-up, followed closely on my heels. Nat brought up the rear.

I walked quickly and with purpose toward my destination. The cops hadn’t been concerned with conserving electricity when they’d left the building, so most of the lights were on.

“That smell,” God groaned as I hurried along. “If I never smell another horse again in my life, I can die happy.”

“Too bad you can’t live happy,” Piss meowed cattily.

“Fight don’t,” DeeDee panted. “Needs Maggie us.”

I veered sharply, turning into the falcons’ room. The light was off, so I switched it on.

“You came back for us, Maggie!” Pam screeched with delight.

DeeDee cringed against me, frightened by the raptor’s call.

“We didn’t get our nighttime show meal,” Dora complained on a more subdued call.

I stared at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen closely enough to you.”

The bird cocked her head, her pupils dilating with interest.

“Listen to her about what?” Piss asked curiously.

“She tried to tell me what was really going on and I wasn’t paying attention,” I explained.

“She did?” God asked, sounding thoroughly surprised.

“When I assured her that this place wouldn’t be shut down, she said that was what all this was about.” I didn’t take my eyes off the bird as I spoke.

She bobbed her head in agreement.

“Just like she told me where Mariah had hidden what she’d found.”

“This is a bird you’re talking about and to, right?” Nat asked from behind me.

“Yes,” I murmured. I asked the falcon for permission to retrieve what Mariah had left behind. “Can I stick my hands where they don’t belong?”

“If you’re brave enough,” Dora taunted.

Slowly, I opened the door of the birds’ cage. It was a clumsy effort since one of my arms was still cradled in a sling, but eventually, I got it done. I reached down and slowly began to pat the straw that lined the bottom.

“What are you doing?” Nat asked.

“Gross,” God groaned. “Do you have any idea of how much excrement is down there?”

“Smell you that do?” DeeDee woofed worriedly.

“Not now,” Piss told her. “It’s time for the big discovery.”

My hand hit something hard and rectangular. I closed my fingers around it. “Thank you,” I told the birds as I removed it.

Nat stepped close enough to peer over my shoulder at what I’d removed. “A camera.”

“Smell I—” DeeDee began to pant.

“Shut up!” God shouted at her.

I brushed the remains of straw and who knows what else off and pressed the power button with a trembling finger. The screen flickered to life.

We stared at the picture of the king accepting a stuffed envelope from another man. The other man’s face was familiar.

I repeated what Mariah had said to me. “It’s the best.”

Nat let out a low whistle. “That’s Melvin Best, right? The real estate tycoon that’s buying up half the state.”

I nodded.

“Paying off King.”

“He certainly does appear to be giving a payment to the king,” I agreed.

“He’s not The King,” Nat said with irritation. “He’s just King. Or Jefferson King. Like Best is just Best, not The Best, like all his marketing suggests. King owns Knight Fights.”

“Hang on,” I said. “Are you saying that the king’s name is really King?”

“You didn’t know that?”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t prepped well for this job.”

“Yeah, he’s King and just decided to pretend to live up to his name.”

“But he’s got to be loaded,” I said. “Why would he take a bribe?”

“Why would he smuggle stolen jewels and/or pharmaceuticals? Maybe he’s padding his retirement plan. Could be he wanted out of the smuggling game and running a legit business, so he agreed to sell this property for a song to Best,” Nat posited.

I nodded. That made a kind of twisted sense.

“Me to listen!” DeeDee barked at the top of her lungs.

The raptors squawked their alarm and beat their wings.

Startled, we all stared at the Doberman.

“She seems agitated,” God remarked.

“What’s wrong, DeeDee?” Piss asked.

“Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!” DeeDee insisted.

31

“Easy, girl,” Nat urged.

I spun to face the dog. “Do you smell smoke?”

“Yes!” She jumped up and down. “Danger!”

“I don’t smell anything,” Nat said.

“Dogs have a much better sense of smell than us,” I told him. “If she thinks there’s smoke, there’s a fire. And after seeing this,” I waved the camera, “I’d be willing to bet that King or Best paid to have the place torched. That’s who Curt had to have been working for.”

Nat paled and nodded. “We have to get out of here, now!”

“Don’t leave us,” Pam shrieked.

“I’m not,” I promised her.

The horses down the hall began to stomp and kick. Their whinnies were laden with terror. They must have sensed the fire, too.

Nat’s gaze met mine. “Go out the way we came in. I can’t let the horses burn alive.” He bolted out of the room and ran toward the stable area.

With the use of only one hand, I fumbled to get the birds’ cage fully open. The air was growing hazy with smoke.

“Hurry!” God coughed. “I don’t want to be fried extra crispy.”

I plucked him off my shoulder and put him on the cat’s back. “Get him out of here, now,” I told the cat. “His lungs are tiny.”

“I’ll be back, Sugar,” she pledged, and then sped off.

“Go with them,” I told DeeDee.

“No!” The Doberman barked with a determination that told me there would be no arguing with my loyal canine friend.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I pulled my arm free of the sling and used both hands to dislodge the door of the cage. “Get out,” I told the falcons. “Be free!”

They shot out of the cage and the room.

Covering my mouth with one hand, I grabbed the dog’s collar. The smoke in the hallway had grown exponentially thicker. My eyes stung and my lungs burned as we began the sweltering return trip to the exit door.

Remembering that there would be more oxygen closer to the floor, I dropped to my knees and began to crawl. DeeDee kept pace, nudging me along. I was drenched in sweat, my injured arm was pulsing with pain, and it was getting harder to breathe.

“DeeDee,” I gasped. “I need you to get the camera outside.” I held it out for her.

“No!” she barked again.

“Please,” I begged, collapsing flat against the ground. “Get it outside and give it to Griswald. He’ll know what to do.”

“Leave won’t I Maggie,” she whined. Instead of taking the camera, she latched onto my wrist and began to pull with all her might.

I knew, then, that my beloved dog’s loyalty to me would be what killed her.

“That’s it!” a voice called. “Step, step, sway, sway. Step, step, sway, sway! One, two, three, kick! One, two, three, kick! Rock the conga! Rock the conga! Shake what your mama mare gave you!”

I knew I had to be hallucinating in the moments before my death, but I still squinted through the smoke, trying to figure out where the source of the dance instructions was coming from.

Then I saw him, Fred, the gray dancing horse, was leading a conga line of horses undulating down the hallway. Each horse held the tail of the one in front of it, as Fred shimmied them to safety.

“She’s here! She’s here!” a voice shrieked sharply.

“Over here! Right here!” another equally strident voice joined in.

Rolling over on my back, I saw that Dora and Pam were swooping over me.

The horses were stepping and swaying, the falcons were swooping and screaming, and I was being lifted off the floor.

“I’ve got you, Lee,” Nat murmured in my ear, clutching me against his chest.

“Here I’m,” DeeDee wheezed from beside him.

I can’t even imagine what the first firefighters on scene thought as Nat carried my limp form out of the blazing building, accompanied by a wild-eyed Doberman pinscher and almost twenty conga-ing horses. I doubt whether they even noticed the two falcons who flew out, shrieking, “Freeeeedom!”

--#--

I woke up in bed, surrounded by warmth. Piss was pressed against my head, DeeDee leaned against one of my sides, and the world’s warmest body was curled around my other side. Keeping my eyes closed, I smiled, feeling safe and content.

Finally, with the sunlight tickling my eyelids, I decided it was time to get up. I opened my eyes and then blinked rapidly, trying to recognize my unfamiliar surroundings.

Had I died? Was this wherever I was going to end up?

Had Piss tried to return to me in the fire and died, too?

A tear leaked out of my eye at the thought I’d been responsible for the deaths of my pets.

“Good morning,” God greeted.

I closed my eyes, unable to suppress a groan when I realized I’d killed him, too.

“It’s okay,” a familiar voice whispered.

Scrunching my eyes even tighter shut, I shook my head. It most definitely wasn’t okay.

“Breathe, Lee.”

I opened my eyes and found Nat Hunting staring down at me, concerned. “You’re okay,” he said softly.

“It’s all good, Sugar,” Piss purred in agreement.

“Gotta! Gotta!” DeeDee woofed urgently.

I blinked as the realization dawned that she wouldn’t have to “gotta” if she was dead. I turned my head, looking from side-to-side, and realized I was in Nat’s bedroom, in his bed and in his arms.

The End

A note from JB:

I hope you enjoyed The Hitwoman's Knight Fight!  I got the idea for this book when I heard an ad for a local Renaissance festival. I immediately started thinking about how Maggie and God would behave in that kind of environment. 

If you'd take just a moment to leave a brief review I'd soooo appreciate it.

Hugs and murder,

Jen

PS

Don't miss Maggie's next misadventure The Hitwoman's Evil Ex.  It starts with the line:

"You just know it's going to be a bad day when you're loading a lizard into a slingshot."

THE HITWOMAN’S EVIL EX

CONFESSIONS OF A SLIGHTLY NEUROTIC HITWOMAN 47

When the lingerie shop, The Corset, is trashed, everyone rolls their eyes, assuming that one of the owners left the shop unlocked and it was a crime of convenience.

But then a campaign of harassment begins, and Maggie realizes that the owners, her friend Armani and her Aunt Loretta, are in danger of losing what they’ve worked for.

Before Maggie can figure out who is threatening them, both women disappear.

Now Maggie must race to discover who is holding a grudge. One of Armani’s ex’s? One of Loretta’s? Or is it someone from Maggie’s past, who knows the best way to get to her is through those she loves?

Order The Hitwoman's Evil Ex

OH SHOOT!

A KIKI LONG MYSTERY FREE PREQUEL

Ever since her husband disappeared seven months ago and it came out that he’d been embezzling funds from the town, pet photographer Kiki Long has been keeping a low profile.

But now it’s time to focus on creating a new life for herself.

Risking the wrath of the town’s residents, Kiki attends the annual Pride Falls Fair where she’s regarded with a mix of animosity, curiosity, and pity.

When a participant in the pie eating contest drops dead due to poisoning, Kiki realizes that the pictures she captured at the fair could hold the key to figuring out the mystery of his death. But it’s not like she can go to Sheriff Rockland with them. He still considers her to be a suspect in her husband’s disappearance.

With the help of her cat, Kodak, Kiki sets out to prove that her friend, who baked the deadly pie, did not poison it. Can she catch the killer? Or will this new development be what lands her in prison?

Get Oh, Shoot! for Free

PSYCHIC CONSIGNMENT MYSTERY SERIES

Sun, sea, and murder…

Escape to the beach town of Sarasota, Florida, visit an inherited consignment shop and meet the Concordia sisters in this cozy mystery series with a twist.

Bea, Winnie and Amanda use their powers to run a store brimming with unusual merchandise and even quirkier clientele while solving mysteries and falling in love.

Check out the Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

Now available on Audio

One Woman’s Junk

Gently Used, Still Works

Another Woman’s Treasure

Something Old, Something New

CURSED CHICKS CLUB

What do you get when you combine a witch who doesn’t know her own power, a possessed cat and a dragon, all traveling in an RV caravan trying to break a curse?

Chaos and Adventure! Love and Laughter!

Follow Ravena and her friends as they try to right the world of wrongs, one magical moment at a time.

Visit the Cursed Chicks Club!

ALSO BY JB LYNN

HITWOMAN BOOKS IN ORDER

Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

The Hitwoman Gets Lucky

The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels

The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness

The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost

The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops

The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple

The Hitwoman’s Downward Dog

The Hitwoman’s Act of Contrition

The Hitwoman Hires a Manny

The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb

The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub

The Hitwoman and the Mother Load

The Hitwoman Under Pressure

The Hitwoman Plays Chaperone

The Hitwoman Takes a Road Trip

The Hitwoman in a Pickle

The Hitwoman and the Gold Digger

The Hitwoman's Juggling Act

The Hitwoman and the Fallen Angel

The Hitwoman Goes to Prison

The Hitwoman and the Exorcism

The Hitwoman Plays Games

The Hitwoman Owes a Favor

The Hitwoman and the Teddy Bear

The Hitwoman and the Body

The Hitwoman Pays a Debt

The Hitwoman Plays Courier

The Hitwoman’s Girls’ Night Out

The Hitwoman's Getaway

The Hitwoman vs The Security Guard

The Hitwoman Investigates

The Hitwoman Gets Her Man

The Hitwoman and the Ninjas

The Hitwoman's Charity Case

The Hitwoman's Egg Hunt

The Hitwoman's Dying Wish

The Hitwoman and the Sitting Duck

The Hitwoman and the Flash Mob

The Hitwoman Gets Caught

The Hitwoman VS the Training Schedule

The Hitwoman VS the Embezzler

The Hitwoman Spirals

The Hitwoman’s Reunion

The Hitwoman’s Knight Fight

The Hitwoman's Evil Ex

A Kiki Long Mystery

Oh, Shoot!

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later

Shoot The Moon

The Cat, The Witch, and the Dead Dude

Thankful, Grateful, Busted

And don't miss the Psychic Consignment Mystery series

One Woman’s Junk

Gently Used, Still Works

Another Woman’s Treasure

Something Old, Something New

Cursed Chicks Club

Once Cursed, Twice Shy

2 Spells Too Many

3 Times A Charm

Mind Your Own Magical Beesness

4 Wonky Jinxes

ABOUT JB LYNN

Author of the never-ending Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman series, JB Lynn (you can call her Jen) is a Jersey girl, who was transplanted in Florida for a while and is now putting down roots in North Carolina. When not taking photos and exploring the mountains with her rescue mutt, she writes the Psychic Consignment Mysteries and the Cursed Chick Club series because she’s got a soft spot for hijinks, humor, and heart (not to mention an almost compulsive need to tell stories!).

Sign up for Jen’s newsletter for book news, exclusive sneak peeks and more.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you’d like to share this book (and the author hopes you’ll want to), please purchase an additional copy for each person. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at jb@jblynn.com.

Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

For more info about my books, visit:

http://www.jblynn.com

And don’t forget to follow/friend me! Be sure to introduce yourself!!!

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