Agnes and the Hitman

Agnes jerked her head up. “What?”

“You and me, honey. We can make it work.” He came closer, his face eager. “I was so damn dumb, I didn’t see that I already had it all with you. Two Rivers, the Two Rivers Cookbook, that cool blue bedroom upstairs…” He cocked his head at her and smiled the smile that had curled her toes a week ago. “Come on, sugar, we were great together.”

“I’ve had better,” Agnes said, and went back to her fondant. “Since when?” Taylor said, outraged, and Rhett barked at him, a little snarl in there for garnish. Taylor took a step back.

“Since this week.” Agnes patted a fondant lump gently to smooth it out. No dice, it was going to have to be a flamingo.

“That Shane guy? Jesus, Agnes, did you even wait a minute after you stabbed me with that fork before you went to bed with him?”

Agnes stopped patting fondant to think about it. “Couldn’t have been much more than ten minutes. Fifteen, tops.”

“Agnes!”

Agnes straightened. “Taylor, you are in no position to become indignant. You got engaged to me to swindle me out of my life savings, and now you’ve discovered you married a murdering whore, and you’re trying to dump her and latch on to me to save yourself. It’s not going to work. Even if I were stupid enough to take you back, you think

Shane’s going to come home, find you in his bed, and just say, ‘Oh, okay, no problem’? Do you know what the man does for a living?”

“No,” Taylor said. “But I think if you explained that we’d reconciled-”

“Yeah, well, we haven’t.” Agnes picked up the cake round and turned to take it to the pantry and saw Brenda staring at them through the screened door. Oh, sweet Jesus, she thought, almost dropping the cake. “If you’ve come to borrow a cup of sugar, the answer is no,” she called to her. Although I’ll trade you a cup for those account numbers in the Caymans.

“I came to see what Taylor was doing in here,” Brenda said, coming into the kitchen and fixing him with a basilisk stare.

Rhett growled again, but this time he crawled under the table.

Smart dog, Agnes thought.

“Hello, Brenda,” Taylor said weakly.

“We were just talking about the catering,” Agnes said, taking the fondant-covered tier to the counter by the window. As she got closer to Brenda, she could hear her breathing. She was almost hyperventilating. Anger, she thought. Been there, done that.

“I thought Taylor had decided he couldn’t do the catering,” Brenda said through clenched teeth, staring at her husband.

“He was just reiterating that,” Agnes said. The stupid son of a bitch.

“Yes, I was,” Taylor said, trying to sound stern.

“And I was telling him that I understood that.” Agnes picked up the next cake tier and brought it down the counter. “So now you can both vacate my premises so I can finish this cake for Palmer.”

“Green?” Brenda said, contempt all but curling from her mouth.

“Golf course.” Agnes unwrapped her next ball of grass green fondant. “With flamingos. He’s going to love it.”

“Well, nobody ever accused you of having taste,” Brenda said. “Bless your heart.”

“Taylor,” Agnes said. “You can go now. You and the whore you rode in on. Bless her heart.”

Brenda exhaled through her teeth.

Taylor looked helplessly from Agnes to Brenda while Agnes began to roll fondant, the heat of her anger making her strong and the fondant smooth.

“We can go into town now if you want, Brenda,” he said.

Brenda lifted her chin. “I suppose. I do hate picking my way across that dangerous splintered old bridge, though. I surely don’t see how anybody’s going to get to the wedding now. So I’ll call Evie-”

“Oh, the bridge is fine,” Taylor said. “Sturdy as all get-out. Much better than the old one. I drove right up to the house, so you just have to walk along the path.”

Brenda’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

Agnes smiled as she rolled fondant like a maniac. “That Shane. He sure is a miracle worker. Got that bridge in last night. It’s a beauty. And after that he hung the prettiest black shutters you’ve ever seen on every single window in Two Rivers. If you didn’t notice them, you make sure you look, Brenda, because they certainly are gorgeous. Check out the carriage lamps, too.” She beamed at Brenda. “Now get the hell out of my house.”

Taylor went over to Brenda and ushered her out the back door, turning as she went out to give Agnes one last look.

“No,” Agnes said, and he nodded and went out, a lost soul, which was what he deserved.

She rolled the fondant onto the rolling pin, lifted it over the cake, and flipped it on. “Don’t give me any crap,” she told the icing and smoothed it swiftly down over the sides.

Perfect

“No flamingos for you,” she said, and went to get the next layer, wondering exactly how much Brenda had heard and exactly how much trouble Taylor was in.

And why her subconscious thought she was an idiot.

Shane knew Carpenter was behind him, perfectly still. He could almost sense his friend’s calmness in the face of his own surging anger.

Fortunato. Fuck.

“What happened to my father?” Shane asked finally. “And my mother. You told me she died in a boating accident.”

“She did,” Joey said. “The same accident your father died in. I couldn’t tell you who he was, because that would have made you a threat to the Don, as the son of the eldest brother. He’s got no kids, he ain’t go

Shane was on his feet before he even realized it. He punched Joey square on the mouth, knocking the old man to the floor of the jet boat, and then Carpenter was there, wrapping his powerful arms around Shane, pulling him away.

“Easy, my friend, easy,” Carpenter said.

Shane allowed Carpenter to push him back to one of the chairs and shove him into it. All the rage he’d suddenly felt was just as quickly gone. He couldn’t believe he’d lost control like that. He never lost control. And he could see it now, what his uncle had done. “You did it to protect me.”

Joey nodded as he dabbed off the trickle of blood on the side of his mouth with a handkerchief he’d pulled out of a pocket. “I did. It was okay as long as Frankie was here. He was protecting you, too. Protecting all of us. Him staying down here was part of the deal, too. Let Michael become Don even though he was youngest. Frankie didn’t want it anyway, though it sure pissed Brenda off. Then Frankie disappeared the night of the robbery, and I knew I had to get you out of here. That’s when I shipped you off to military school.”

“You could have told me,” Shane said.

Carpenter let go of him and went back to the wheel, reversing them off the beach and turning south down the Intracoastal.

“What good would it have done?” Joey said. “The name would have been a weight around your neck. And my deal with the Don was that you didn’t know. I kept my part and he kept his. He didn’t go after you, even though you being alive has always been a threat.”

“Why arc you telling me this now?” Shane asked as Carpenter pointed the boat toward another island.

“Because the Don’s coming here for the wedding. And he knows you’re here and who you are. And all this crap is coming up about Frankie and the robbery. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but it’s best you be prepared.”

The bow of the boat scraped onto a beach, and Carpenter grabbed the second receiver and jumped overboard. He slammed it into the beach above the high-tide mark.

“Tell me the truth, Joey,” Shane said. “Are you pla

“No.”

“Because he’s got a professional hitman in the area who is supposed to take out someone who is a threat to-” Shane froze. “He’s here to hit me.”