Agnes and the Hitman Read online



  Shane felt a powerful hand slam into his chest and lift him into the air. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he flew upward over Carpenter, over Joey, over the entire boat and tumbled into the water behind the boat. He went under, the weight of the gear he was wearing taking him down. He couldn’t breathe, the force of the explosion having knocked the air out of his lungs.

  Shane unbuckled his combat vest and tore it off. He felt pain radiating through his chest and could only wonder at what wounds he’d sustained. They wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t get back to the surface and air.

  He blinked, trying to figure which way the surface was. He forced himself to remain still for a moment and looked about. He kicked toward the light.

  Shane popped to the surface right behind the jet boat. Carpenter and Joey were leaning over the rear, Carpenter stripping off his gear, getting ready to jump in.

  “I’m all right,” Shane managed, but he couldn’t hear his own voice, just a loud ringing.

  A brief smile crossed Carpenter’s face and his mouth moved, but Shane could only hear the ringing. Then the smile was gone and Carpenter was looking over his shoulder, shouting something. He shoved Joey over the side, diving off himself. Just as the bow of the cruiser sliced over and into the jet boat, crushing it and forcing it under. Shane blew the air out of his lungs and went back under, seeking the safety of the deeper water.

  He was buffeted as the cabin cruiser churned by overhead, propellers ripping what remained of the jet boat to shreds, slicing by scant feet above his head. He forced himself to remain underwater as he watched the propellers move away. He stayed under until his lungs were screaming for air; then he went for the surface, using a piece of the wreckage to cover breaking the surface.

  He sucked in air as he watched the cruiser continue to plow away. When the cruiser disappeared around a bend of the river, he looked around for the others. Carpenter was hidden by an overhanging branch, holding on to a piece of wreckage with one arm, the other around Joey, who had a cut on his forehead, blood seeping down his face.

  “That didn’t go as planned,” Carpenter said.

  “Lousy work,” Shane gasped, his ears still ringing. “We’d have stayed to clean up.”

  “Well, thank you, Mr. Dean, for being a sloppy-ass killer,” Carpenter said.

  “We should deliver that in person,” Shane said.

  “We should do that later,” Carpenter said, nudging a dazed Joey toward the bank.

  “Yeah,” Shane said, looking back in Casey Dean’s direction. “But we’re definitely gonna do it.”

  When Joey hadn’t shown up by live, Agnes began to panic. The rehearsal dinner was at seven, and while Garth could set up the tables and even put out the plates and silver, she had to be down there dressing the place with flowers and favors. Beyond that, catering was not within her grasp. Family cooking she could do; catering a rehearsal dinner for the first family of Keyes? No.

  She wiped her hands on her Cranky Agnes apron and stepped over Rhett to open the fridge and looked at the turkey Joey had put in there. Taylor had promised that he’d make Palmer’s favorite meal, turkey and dressing, and Joey had sworn he could handle it. But now it was too late to make the turkey, and Palmer had wanted some special kind of gravy with bourbon in it, and… She looked at the turkey and thought, I’m screwed.

  Rhett bayed, and she heard Taylor say, “Agnes?”

  Agnes turned around to see him standing in the doorway again. “Not now.” She turned back to the fridge. There were new potatoes in there. That could be simple. Maybe butter sauce-

  “I want to work this out.”

  Rhett growled.

  Agnes closed her eyes. “Well, that’s just great. No. Now get your ass out of here. I’m busy.” Pay attention, Agnes. “Where’s Joey?”

  “I don’t know,” Agnes said. “Beat it.” Don’t be stupid, Agnes.

  She heard him come closer, and Rhett growled again.

  “He’s not here?” Taylor said.

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to cook?”

  She turned around. “You quit, you lying, cheating bastard-”

  Agnes, you dumbass, you need him.

  “I know,” Taylor said. “That was wrong.”

  Agnes…

  Dr. Garvin, I hate him.

  Okay, first of all, this isn’t Dr. Garvin, this is you, talking to yourself, obviously, so pull yourself together.

  Second, you need help and he owes you big.

  Third, you can use this to your advantage, if you’d get your head out of your butt and stop doing the easiest thing, which is anger, but no, you have to wallow in your emotions and hide behind your rage, so go ahead and screw up your life again. Go ahead. Feel free.

  I want Dr. Garvin back.

  “What’s Joey got in there?” Taylor reached around her and opened the fridge, and Rhett growled again, and Agnes hesitated and then bent to pat the dog.

  “It’s okay, Rhett,” she whispered, and the dog looked at her as if to say, Sucker, and then padded back to his place under the table and collapsed into semi-slumber.

  “Huh,” Taylor said. “Okay. Sure.” He began to take things out of the fridge. “Get me a tray or a box or something so I can get this stuff down to the kitchen in the barn. Did you do the dessert?”

  “Raspberry-chocolate heart-shaped cakes,” Agnes said. “I covered them with ganache and plated them, and I’m going to use raspberry sauce as… Look, Taylor-”

  He closed the fridge door and opened the cupboard next to it. “I screwed up. I know this won’t make up for it, but it’s something. And besides…” He grinned down at her. “I want to show the Keyeses I can cook.”

  You gonna be smart or you gonna be dumb, Agnes?

  Agnes drew a deep breath. “You want back in. You’ve looked around and realized you backed the wrong woman and that the Keyeses aren’t going to side with Brenda, especially since she’s losing her grip and killing people now, and your future is going down the tubes, and you want to switch sides.”

  “Yes.” He looked embarrassed but determined.

  “So you want to come back so you can be part of the wedding and have the catering business and the Two Rivers Cookbook and everything we were going to do.”

  “Yes.” He was eager now, and she began to see how easy it had been for Brenda to lay things out for him. Almost like leaving a trail of bread crumbs for him to follow.

  “Okay,” Agnes said, starting her own trail. “You can cater the dinner tonight and the wedding tomorrow, on two conditions. The first is that you work your ass off on this wedding and make sure it happens. You are on my side now, and you do everything in your power to make sure this wedding happens and that I keep the house.”

  “Yes,” Taylor said.

  “The second is that you sign your share of the house over to me.” Taylor’s face went blank.

  “I’ll finish the cookbook with you, and I’ll let you cater out of the barn, but you sign your share of this place over to me. You tried to swindle me out of it, you sign it over to me. The house belongs to me entirely. I get it all.”

  “Agnes,” Taylor said, trying to smile. “Agnes, honey, with the down payment and everything I put into the barn, that’s over a hundred and fifty thousand-”

  “The high price of being a bastard,” Agnes said. “You sign your half of the house over to me, and I’ll finish the cookbook with you and let you cater from the barn. Otherwise you lose everything.”

  Taylor tried one more charming smile, which slid right off Agnes, and then he nodded. “All right. But maybe when you’ve had time to think about us again-”

  “I never think about us,” Agnes said. “Us is deader than a doornail. I have a new Us, and I’m keeping it. The only thing I want you for is this rehearsal dinner and the wedding tomorrow. Cook. And show Garth how to do everything, because you need an assistant and he needs skills, and for God’s sake, try to remember whose side you’re on this time.”

  Tayl