Read Online The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels by J. B. Lynn - Free Book Online Page A

wants. What he’s willing to kill for.”
    “I don’t either.”
    “You’re sure?” He sounded suspicious.
    “I told you, I have no idea. But the way you’re talking, I think you do know, or at least have an idea.”
    He sighed heavily, taking a turn so swiftly the wheels squealed in protest. “I think it’s more than a coincidence that the day your father breaks out of prison, Kowalski…” He glanced over at my bruised face. He winced. “Kowalski hurts you.”
    I thought about that for a second, remembering how just a few hours earlier in the barn, though it felt like a decades-old memory, I’d confided I’d been suspicious about running into Kowalski at the prison.
    “You think this is my dad’s fault?” I asked slowly.
    “I think he’s probably involved,” Patrick admitted heavily. “If you can figure out how, maybe we can stop them both.”
    Sinking back in my seat, I tried to come up with a connection for the rest of the ride to Katie’s facility.
    Slamming to a stop in the No Parking Fire Zone, we leapt from the truck. We raced through the quiet halls of the medical institution, Patrick following three steps behind. Rushing past the nurses’ station, I saw Vinnie, Delveccio’s nephew and hired muscle, flirting with one of the women by flexing his bicep. That meant that Delveccio was in the vicinity, but I didn’t care. I kept heading for Katie’s room, intent on keeping her safe from Paul. A shiver of foreboding skittered between my shoulders when I realized her door was closed. It was never closed.
    I was so focused on the door that I didn’t notice the man in the suit standing beside it, until he caught my arm as I tried to barrel past him.
    “Ow!”
    His grip hurt, as he practically yanked me off my feet.
    “Let me go!” I kicked him in the shin.
    I’m not sure which of us it caused more pain. Kicking someone while wearing sneakers was not the brightest idea I’ve had. We both wobbled, reaching to rub our respective injuries.
    “Let her go.”
    The man in the suit and I both froze. Slowly, we turned to find Patrick glowering at us.
    “Let her go.”
    The angry, uncompromising command would have scared me even if I hadn’t known he’s a secret hired killer.
    It must have spooked the man in the suit too, because his grip on my arm loosened. He didn’t let go though. “US Marshal,” he said, using his free hand to reach into his suit jacket.
    Patrick moved faster, knocking my arm free of the marshal’s grip, and pinning him against the wall with an arm against his throat.
    A gaggle of gossiping nurses gathered to watch the exchange. Vinnie joined them.
    “Jesus,” I muttered, remembering how Patrick had pledged to kill Kowalski for laying his hands on me. “Rule Number One.”
    Patrick slid a sideways glance at me, not appreciating that I was reminding him of his Don’t Get Caught rule.
    Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that Delveccio had stepped into the hallway to find out what all the commotion was about. I didn’t think it was a good idea for the mob boss to see the hitman lose his cool. “Who are you?” I demanded of the marshal. “What are you doing by my niece’s room?”
    “Easy,” the marshal wheezed. “I was just reaching for my I.D.”
    Patrick patted down the front of the man’s jacket. Removing his arm from the man’s throat, he took a step back, resting his hand on the butt of his gun.
    There was a collective gasp from the rubber-necking nurses.
    “Take it out,” Patrick ordered. “Slowly.”
    The marshal did as he was told. “U.S. Marshal Frank Weller.” He held out his credentials for Patrick to study.
    They looked legitimate to me. Then again, I hadn’t really bothered to look at the last set of U.S. Marshal credentials flashed my way the last time my father had taken an unsanctioned vacation from the big house.
    Releasing his grip on his gun, Patrick reached into his pant pocket and pulled out his badge. “Detective Patrick