Maggie Lee (Book 7): The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops by JB Lynn Page B

called Doc.” I was unduly proud of myself for figuring something out.
    “Yup.”
    “Was that the Heimlich maneuver you used on our Maggie?” Aunt Leslie asked.
    “Yes, ma’am. I was at the door when I heard someone shouting that someone was choking and needed help, so I just let myself in. I hope that’s okay.”
    “Of course.” Leslie waved a hand over the Chinese food. “Join us.”
    “What’s the Heimlich thingie?” Armani asked, mentally undressing my stripper savior with her eyes.
    Considering what he did for a living, Ben seemed to find her blatant perusal to be surprisingly offensive. His body posture stiffened and his voice became very formal. “A couple of well-delivered thrusts use air pressure to forcefully dislodge whatever is blocking a choking victim’s windpipe.”
    “Thrusts!” Armani crowed victoriously. “I knew it.” She gave me a thumbs-up.
    I ignored her.
    “So wait,” Marlene said slowly. “If you’re not a cop, why did you chase off Wally?”
    “Can we get back to why she choked in the first place?” the detective interrupted. “Why does your father want you to know he forgives you?”
    I shrugged. “How should I know?” I turned to Armani. “Was there another part of the message?”
    She shook her head. “He just said to tell you that he forgives you.”
    “And you don’t have any idea what that means?” Griswald asked, clearly not believing me.
    I shook my head helplessly. “I don’t.”
    “I do,” Leslie murmured.
    All eyes in the room focused on her.
    “This is all my fault.”

Chapter Thirteen
     
    Leslie’s gaze skittered nervously around the room before finally landing on me. “I’m sorry.”
    “About what?” I asked, bewildered.
    “I made a mistake.” Leslie bowed her head.
    I wasn’t in the mood to play Twenty Questions. “What did you do?”
    “I told them where to find him.”
    “Told who?” Griswald and I both blurted out with the same note of panic making our tones strident.
    My stomach somersaulted nervously at the thought someone might now my father’s location. Sure the man drives me crazy, but he’s still my dad.
    “Blanche.”
    “Who the hell is Blanche?” Brian thundered.
    I wondered how I’d ever thought he was bashful.
    “My sponsor,” Leslie whispered, eyes wide.
    “Wait,” I said, catching up to what was being said. “The one who was in cahoots to kill Marlene and me?”
    “Cahoots?” Armani mocked.
    “Shut up,” I growled.
    She pouted prettily, pretending to look offended.
    “Blanche,” I tried again. “The one who was mixed-up with that whole deal that ended up with Dad going into the Witness Protection Program?”
    Leslie nodded.
    “But she’s supposed to be locked up.” I turned an accusing eye on Griswald. The detective shrugged helplessly.
    “She might be,” Leslie offered agreeably.
    “She might be?” I raised my voice. “ Might be? You don’t know? And you offered up Dad’s whereabouts to a homicidal criminal?”
    “Easy, Maggie,” Zeke interjected in his most soothing tone.
    I rounded on him, ready to rip his interfering head off.
    Dabbing at the cup above his eye with a paper napkin, Zeke focused on my traitorous aunt. “Leslie?”
    Chewing on her lower lip, she met his gaze nervously.
    Zeke gave her a reassuring smile. “ When did you tell this Blanche woman where to find Archie?”
    “A while ago.”
    Digging my palm into the space between my eyes, I tried to rub away the tension headache I was forming.
    Zeke, keeping his tone soft, like he was talking to a skittish horse, looked for clarification. “A while ago as in a couple of hours ago, or as in a couple of days ago.”
    “Weeks ago.”
    Detective Brian Griswald’s sigh of relief was audible.
    I closed my eyes, striving to sound half as reasonable as Zeke. “That doesn’t explain why you think Dad was calling to forgive me.”
    “Well what else could he possibly be blaming you for?” Leslie countered.
    I shook my head. A