Agnes and the Hitman Read online

“Like?” Shane asked.

  “Maybe I should check out the barn,” Xavier said. “Nobody in there anymore. Party moved out to the shore.” Xavier nodded. “Most likely you’re right. What’s important is what happened over yonder.” He gestured behind Shane, down the path. “What happened yonder?” Shane asked. “Your Miss Agnes,” Xavier said. Shane sighed. “What did she do?”

  “She appears to have murdered her former fiancé, Taylor Beaufort. Which is why my associate Robbie Hammond arrested her and why he is currently on his way with her to the county jail.”

  That’s my girl, Shane thought.

  “I’m real sorry about this, Miss Agnes,” Hammond said as he locked the cell door behind her.

  “That makes me feel so much better,” Agnes said, hugging herself against the cold. It wasn’t that cool in the jail, she knew that, but she’d been cold ever since she’d seen the fork in Taylor’s neck and felt his hand grab the edge of her apron in one desperate clutch before he died. “You can’t possibly think I killed Taylor. I was with Maria right there on the path-”

  “No, ma’am,” Hammond said. “I had just joined Maria when you screamed. You were in the woods with the victim.”

  “You moron” Agnes said, shivering with rage and something else.

  “Hammond, can you get her a jacket or something?” Maria said.

  “Yeah, Hammond, get her a jacket,” a voice said from the bottom bunk said, and the woman there rolled over-a blowsy blonde who looked like she rotated in and out of the place on a regular basis- peered out at Agnes, and then sat up to get a better look. “Well, look what we got here. Betty Crocker. Nice apron, Betty. Mob Food? That how you got in here, cookin’ for the mob?”

  “Humor,” Agnes said to her, shivering. “Har.” She turned back to the cell door. “Hammond, if I’d done it, why would I have screamed?”

  “To make me think you hadn’t done it,” Hammond said, sticking his considerable chin out.

  Agnes gazed at him for a moment, thinking of all the things she’d like to do to his stupid, determined face. “Hammond, you’re dumb as a rock, but Xavier isn’t. When he finds out you’ve arrested me on the thought process of an addled two-year-old-”

  Hammond frowned at her. “He knows. I called him.”

  Oh, just hell, Agnes thought. They’re all nuts.

  “He said you were better off in here than out there. Probably wanted to keep you from killin’ anybody else.”

  “She didn’t kill anybody, Robbie,” Maria said, steel in her voice.

  Hammond stepped back. “Okay, honey.”

  “Honey?” Agnes said, and thought about reaching through the bars and strangling him.

  “Hey,” the blonde said. “What are you in for, Betty? Beatin’ your egg whites?” She laughed uproariously.

  “Murder.” Agnes took off her Cranky Agnes apron and tossed it on the bunk above the blonde and then climbed up, looking for a blanket.

  “We’ll get you right out of here, Agnes,” Maria said, looking daggers at the blonde.

  “No, you won’t,” the blonde said. “You ain’t gonna find a judge tonight or tomorrow or the next or Monday. Not on a holiday weekend, you ain’t. Now what are you really in for, Betty?”

  “Murder.” Agnes pulled a tissue-thin blanket off the bunk and wrapped it around her, and then stretched out on the mattress and looked at the ceiling. It was peeling. Naturally.

  The blonde poked at the thin mattress from underneath. “I ain’t askin’ you again.”

  “For the love of God, Hammond, tell her,” Agnes snarled.

  “She killed her ex-fiancé with a meat fork,” Hammond told the blonde.

  “She did not,” Maria said, turning on him.

  “Allegedly,” Hammond said hastily. “She allegedly was found standing over her ex-fiancé with an alleged meat fork.”

  “I didn’t have the meat fork,” Agnes said tiredly. “He did.”

  “Right,” Hammond said. “The fork was in him. She wasn’t touching it. Still, you know, he was holding on to you. That’s pretty bad.”

  “Just like the rest of my day,” Agnes said to the ceiling.

  “A meat fork,” the blonde said with newfound respect in her voice. “Nice touch, Betty.”

  “And right after you found Shane with a stripper, too,” Maria said, her face crumpling again.

  “A girl’s gotta earn a living,” the blonde said, sounding defensive.

  “And she’d just been doing Palmer ten minutes earlier,” Maria wailed.

  “I don’t think so,” Agnes said tiredly, still staring at the ceiling. “That just does not sound like Palmer.”

  “He was wearing the flamingo hat!” Maria said.

  “That also does not sound like Palmer.” Agnes took a deep breath, mostly to keep from screaming. “Nothing’s been what it seems so far. Why should tonight be any different?”

  “Those rich guys,” Hammond said.

  “You stay out of this,” Agnes said, rolling so she could look down to see him. “You just stay out of this. Somebody just died horribly out there, do not use this as an opportunity to make time, damn it.”

  Hammond put his arm around Maria. “It’ll be different with me,” he told her.

  Maria nodded with a sniffle.

  “Listen to me, young lady,” Agnes said, sitting up. “What are you trying to do? Ruin your life? Fine, go ahead. Throw your life away in a big dramatic gesture even though you love Palmer and he’s the one you should be with. What the hell.”

  “You want me to forgive him for cheating on me?” Maria said, grabbing on to the bars so she could glare through them. “That’s why you stabbed Taylor!”

  “I didn’t kill Taylor,” Agnes said, glaring back. “Although it worries me that you think I did.”

  “Of course I don’t,” Maria said, outraged. “I meant the first time.”

  “There was a first time?” Hammond said.

  “No,” Agnes and Maria said together.

  “And anyway, I don’t see you forgiving Shane,” Maria said, changing the subject. “I don’t see you saying, ‘Hey, you boinking the stripper, not a problem, I still love you.’“

  “I don’t love him,” Agnes said. “I just met him. And I don’t have to forgive him. He didn’t boink her.”

  “You are so naive,” Maria said.

  Hammond tugged on her arm. “We have to go. You shouldn’t even be back here.”

  “Maria,” Agnes said.

  “We’ll get you a lawyer,” Maria said as Hammond pulled her through the door.

  “Won’t do you no good,” the blonde said, and then it was quiet, which gave Agnes plenty of time to think.

  Not that there was much to think about.

  Like, who killed Taylor? Well, he’d been willing to leave Brenda to come back to her and Brenda had almost certainly overheard that, and he’d flouted her to cater the rehearsal dinner, so Brenda was one suspect. And then there was…

  Brenda. That was it. Nobody else would want to kill poor old Taylor. And nobody else would know that Agnes had stabbed him in the throat with a meat fork. And nobody else would be so viciously cruel as to tell Maria a story that would drive her out to the barn knowing Agnes would go with her, and then arrange for Taylor to be there at the same time, and stab him when Agnes was there, and leave him to die slowly in the woods for Agnes to find him…

  Brenda. Hell, she’d already killed Frankie and Four Wheels; Taylor was just filling out her dance card. Of course it was Brenda. She’d stolen her own daughter’s life savings.

  Well, that filled up a minute. Now what was she going to think about?

  Well, there was Shane, having sex with a stripper. Of course he was a guy, and guys did tend to like strippers, but he also knew she was waiting for him back at the house, and Shane just did not strike her as the kind of guy who’d do that. Which was odd because ordinarily she was paranoid about that kind of thing and could work up a really good outrage, but Shane boinking a stripper a hundred y