Mama Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Hitmen Page 2

  Liv frowned as she took one, expertly throwing it at a dart board where she hit bullseye. “I don’t know. Maybe if we added some grips.”

  Dak held up two extremely ugly wigs. “I have a lot of these disguises from various gigs. Think we could promote them as Halloween costumes?”

  Mom lit up, “I think that’s a great idea! Just make sure you remove everything from the hidden pockets. I have to live in this neighborhood. I don’t want some idiot coming back complaining about finding a baggie filled with anthrax or a switchblade.”

  The adults nodded as if this was the most natural conversation to have about a garage sale. I noticed the spouses weren’t there. My dad, Diego, had told me he wanted nothing to do with this. He’d fled to Australia to visit his sister for a week. In hindsight, I wondered if I should’ve gone with him.

  Liv held up a bra that could shoot lasers out of the nipples, demonstrating how it worked by putting twin holes in the wall.

  Louis shot me a look and I nodded. “Mom,” I said. “We’re going to my room.”

  Our parents waved us away. They were too lost in their own little world. I don’t think they even saw us slip into the house.

  You might think it strange that my room was soundproof or that the lock on the door was unbreakable. That was a perk for being in this family. I looked around at the pink and white room with all the stuffed animals, the ‘Hang In There’ poster of a kitten dangling from a branch, and my decapitated American Girl Dolls (I should mention that I’m the only person to be banned from the doll hospital for consistently brining in mangled dolls). I was an adult now. It was time to think of moving out or, at the very least, redecorating.

  “Alright, spill it,” Alta sat on my bed as the boys sat in chairs.

  There was no more escaping the inevitable. I took a deep breath. “Grandma Mary…”

  A chorus of groans filled the room. To describe Great Grandma Maryland as a character would be like comparing a rabid, bipolar badger to an upside down floating goldfish. She used to run the Council – the board made up of the Bombays of her generation – and they handed down all assignments. The oldest generation always ran the Council. It was kind of like a retirement of sorts. When that generation died off, the next generation became the Council. My grandmother Carolina, had been part of the very last Bombay Council.

  Anyway, when Great Grandma was forcibly retired, she was sent to a nursing home in Greenland. Once the Council disbanded, she was brought back to this area. Our parents thought she’d gone crazy, but her mind was still sharp as a tack.

  Dementia isn’t really a problem when you can still take down a roomful of gangsters at the age of 75. She was still at the top of her game and possessed an epic amount of patience as was evidenced a couple of months ago when she used her glasses to set an old man on fire. Apparently, he’d stolen her shuffleboard slot.

  “Anyway, Mary Skyped me. Said she had some unfinished business she needed me to take care of. She knew our parents wouldn’t consider it so the next day, this showed up under my pillow. I still don’t know how she got in here.”

  I pulled an envelope with a broken, red wax seal, out of a hidden panel in my dresser.

  Woody whistled as he took it. “This is the Bombay Crest! I never thought I’d get to see one of these up close.”

  He wasn’t alone in his awe. Over the centuries all assignments were dispensed in sealed, unmarked envelopes with the crest in red wax, so there was never a question as to what was inside. Bombays weren’t allowed to pick their cases and they weren’t allowed to say no. Trying to back out was fatal. Mom always said, You can’t pick your family, but you can pick them off.

  Alta and Louis crowded around him as they opened it. I stayed where I was, waiting for my cousins to read through the file. It wouldn’t take them long to realize that the stiff cooling his heels in Alta’s trunk was evil. The Bombays specialized in very bad men, and the occasional woman. We didn’t discriminate.

  After a few moments, Louis looked up with a giddy grin. “You know what this means, don’t you?” The three of us exchanged unreadable expressions.

  “Great Grandma is bringing assassination back.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I can’t believe this,” Alta took the file from Woody and turned a few pages forward and back. “Grandma Mary actually gave you an assignment! A real assignment!”

  “Why did she wait until now?” Louis asked.

  Alta cocked her head to the side. “Why did she ask you?”

  “Why didn’t she ask me?” Woody whined.

  I shrugged. I had no idea why she chose me over any of the cousins. I’d like to think it’s because I’m amazing, but maybe I was just the first one she asked. And just in case that was the reason, I was going to keep that to myself.

  “So, the Vic was the grandson of someone Grandma Mary took out forty years ago?” Alta handed the file back to me and I shoved it back into my secret drawer.

  “That’s what she said.” I didn’t have much to go on.

  When a Bombay received an assignment, it was to be accepted with no questions asked. Even though we were technically disbanded, I didn’t think it was safe to question a woman who once killed a guy using a cannon. A Civil War era cannon, that she’d stolen from a county courthouse in Kentucky.

  Vic, who was currently ‘chilling’ in Alta’s trunk, was a domestic terrorist, responsible for blowing up a synagogue a couple of months ago. But that wasn’t the half of it. He was planning to take out a series of Muslim temples all over the Midwest on the same day. The man also had a collection of fingernails and an unnatural attachment to chickens. I don’t know how she knew about that (it’s possible she’s psychic), but she wanted him gone. And she’d picked me.

  “I want in,” Louis said.

  “Me too,” Woody added. Alta agreed.

  I held my hands up, “Now wait a minute. This was a one-off. Grandma said if I told anyone, I’d be sorry.”

  Most grandparents didn’t threaten their grandkids…and if they did, they didn’t usually mean it. That was not the case here.

  “I think we should visit her.” Woody ran his fingers through his brown curls.

  “I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” I protested because this would get me closer to the truth that maybe choosing me was random. I wasn’t egotistical, but this was my first job and getting help kind of bruised my self-esteem.

  “It’s a brilliant idea!” Louis grinned. “We’ve got time to kill, and I sure as hell don’t want to get sucked into helping with the garage sale.”

  He had a point, and looking around at my cousins’ eager faces, I had a sinking feeling that I was outgunned.

  “I’m not so sure about this, guys. She’ll probably kill me – literally kill me.”

  “Oh, come on,” Woody protested. “What could she do? We’ll all be there.”

  I pointed at him. “You don’t have the mad skills she has.”

  “We could put you in a bombproof suit,” Louis said, chewing his lip. “I could make one with bubble wrap, duct tape and a diving helmet.”

  “Or an astronaut suit,” Woody added helpfully. “Mom has one.”

  Alta looked worried. “Maybe Romi is right. We should stay out of this.”

  Awesome. My cousin had my back.

  “We could go without you…” Louis suggested.

  That idea chilled me to the bone. If they did that, and Grandma really wanted me dead, going as far as the moon wouldn’t help me.

  “Fine. But I’m packing pepper spray…” I said as I grabbed a canister from my desk and shoved it into my pocket.

  If this hit taught me anything, it was that I was in a bit over my head. Maybe the four of us could partner up on jobs. Wait, why did I think there would be more? Besides, Grandma was more likely to attack me, which would void any kind of partnership. I hoped the others realized what we were doing. I hoped they’d think of me fondly.

  “How did she get her intel?” Louis mused.

  “Where there’s a Bombay, there’s a way,” I pointed out. “And she’s loaded. She can afford the things she’d need to keep an eye on the world.”

  To be completely honest, we were all loaded. Four years of college hadn’t even put a dent in our trust funds. We could buy anything we wanted…houses, cars, dinosaur DNA, anything. And yet, our parents still thought we needed jobs. They were kind of confused that none of us had even tried so far.

  “I think we need a plan on how to approach Grandma,” Alta, ever the cautious one, said.

  “Please don’t mention that you had to help me with Vic,” I begged. “Say Louis was bugging me – that’s how he found out.”

  “Fine,” Louis didn’t see this as a dig. He was proud of what he could do. “We just have to be careful not to piss her off. Dad told me once that she killed three people with one finger.”

  Alta nodded, “I’ve heard that story too. And the one about the hat pin on the airplane. No one noticed that guy was dead until she was already off the tarmac.”

  “What’s a hat pin?” Louis asked, but Alta merely shrugged.

  “What about the time she shot some guy from a mile away?” Woody added.

  There were lots of stories about our badass grandmother. Most people would think we were exaggerating. But then, most people didn’t come from a family of hired guns. Most people also had sweet, gray-haired grannies who baked bread and had cats. We had a grandmother who killed people and liked it.

  “So, we’re saying we should stay out of arm’s reach,” Louis said.

  “Absolutely,” I grimaced. “And watch out for her dish of hard candy.”

  Woody’s eyes went wide. “Poisoned?”

  I shook my head, “No. Old. She’s had some of those butterscotches for at leas
t ten years.”

  Happy Hill Home (Grandma hated the name but did admit it was an excellent cover) was nestled in the country in a meadow surrounded by trees. The building had been some sort of mental asylum back in the day, but had been converted into a mansion, then was a boarding school (something that doesn’t work here in the Midwest), and finally a campus for some peacenik cult, before a complete renovation into a senior living facility. As we walked in the front door, I never could resist staring at the sweeping staircase, the marble floors and extravagant woodwork that made it so appealing. Why did someone build an asylum with such expensive features?

  We signed in with the nurse but declined her offer to take us to Grandma’s rooms. We knew the way. Not that we visited a lot. Mainly on her birthday and the anniversary of the death of Benito Mussolini – an occasion she celebrated more happily than her birthday. I’d always wanted to ask her about that, but Mom would silence me and give me that look. You know the one. The look that says don’t you dare. All moms have it.

  “Get in here!” Great Grandma barked from her room while we were still in the hallway. “I could hear you coming a mile off.”

  When Grandma Mary commanded, you fell in line whether you wanted to or not. I entered first and kissed her on the cheek before taking a seat (out of arm’s reach). Alta brought up the rear, closing the door behind her. Grandma scowled and took a remote off her dresser and locked the door.

  “So, you found out, eh?” A rare grin split her wizened face.

  “I’m sorry,” I started to say, but she held up a hand to silence me.

  “This was all part of my plan, Romi,” She snapped. “That’s why I gave you the gig. I knew you’d need help and would call your cousins.”

  Hey! That seemed unnecessary. The others would’ve screwed it up too. Probably.

  “Monty and Jackson are on their way. Should be here any minute now. Have some lemonade and cookies.” She also held out a dish of hard candy but we waved it away. We did each take a cookie…because hey! Cookies!

  Getting Monty and Jack here was a coup. They lived in L.A., where they ran a special effects company for movie studios. The twins were Missi’s kids and took after her in every way.

  We ate in a very uncomfortable silence. Our grandmother just scowled at us like a scary drill sergeant with an itchy trigger finger. Occasionally one of us would glance at the others and shrug, but Grandma didn’t say a word.

  The room was very nice. The furniture was expensive, there was original art on the tastefully painted walls and heavy, damask drapes. The only thing that was out of place was a dead plant on the dresser. The curled black leaves of the philodendron threatened to disintegrate into dust if you so much as sneezed. Why did she keep that thing?

  After about ten minutes, she hit the remote and the door unlocked. Monty and Jack stood, fist raised, in mid-knock. They exchanged glances, shrugged and entered the room. Apparently, this didn’t surprise them one bit.

  The twins were a bit older than the rest of us. Monty was tall and thin with dark hair. His twin, Jack, was shorter with red hair and freckles. They were lots of fun and we were happy to see them, even if we still weren’t sure why we were all here.

  “Hey guys!” Monty gave hugs all around as Jack stood there smiling. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

  “I did,” Jack said.

  His brother spun around and stared. “You knew? You could’ve told me.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “I don’t have to tell you everything.”

  “Dude,” Monty pointed at his twin. “We work together and live together. This should’ve come up in conversation at some point.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jack stepped closer to his brother.

  “Yeah!” Monty stepped closer still. It was pure posturing. These two were thick as thieves but Mom told me that recently they’d started bickering. I couldn’t help but wonder if all these years of being within a few feet of each other, 24/7, was starting to take its toll.

  “Enough chit-chat!” Grandma barked. “I have water aerobics in half an hour and I’m not going to miss it because of you.”

  We all shut up and watched as she punched a few buttons on the remote and a screen unfurled from the ceiling. A projector popped down and started whirring. How did she get this stuff?

  “I have a proposition for you. I think it’s a damn shame that your parents retired the family business.”

  The screen came alive with images of fires, angry mobs, the KKK on the march and other chaos. It was a bizarre montage of violence, although I thought I spotted a couple of babies giggling and later a panda cub. It didn’t seem appropriate to point that out. She probably just took a course on Windows Movie Maker. Mom said a few months ago, Grandma had taken a basket weaving class, but got kicked out for using razor wire.

  “Several of our former clients have been in touch. They have stacks of assignments with no one to carry them out. That’s where you come in.”

  Woody, Monty and Jack were so excited they were practically vibrating in place. Louis frowned – but then he always did that when he was thinking. Alta and I didn’t react at all.

  “What about our other cousins, Clint, Savannah, Delhi and Madrid?” I asked. There was also Theodore and Sofia (Louis’ kid sister), but I figured they were too young for this. Besides, they hadn’t been trained to grow up to kill people. They were the first generation to do that. Theo was the first Bombay in four millennia without a place name.

  “Are you getting the whole Council back together for this?” Alta added.

  I hoped not. Mary’s siblings, Dela (short for Delaware) and Lou (short for Louisiana) was alright, but their cousin, Troy, was a mean old man and I didn’t really know Florence. They made up the European Branch of the Family and since we disbanded, we didn’t see them much.

  She shook her head. “It will just be Dela and me. Your parents and your grandparents must never know about this.”

  Our grandparents weren’t an immediate problem as Louis’ and my grandmother, Carolina, her brother Petersburg, and their cousins California and Montana Bombay were out of the country for the summer. Keeping it from our parents was another thing entirely.

  This was a serious breach of Bombay etiquette. The Council was always made up of the siblings of that generation so that everything was balanced. Lou, Troy and Florence would not be happy about this. As to the other four cousins, I didn’t know if they’d want to be part of this.

  Perhaps sensing that we were uncomfortable with this break with tradition, she added, “Troy, Lou and Flo are far too old anyway. And your grandparents are all on that cruise in Greece.”

  I toyed with mentioning that Grandma was also old, but I didn’t want her to tear out my spleen with a bobby pin, so I said nothing.

  “How’s this going to work?” Jack asked.

  Someone knocked on the door. Before it could open, the screen and projector disappeared.

  “Mary,” A pretty, young nurse with a great smile walked in, holding a clear cup full of pills. “It’s time for your meds. Oh! I didn’t realize you had visitors.”

  Grandma Mary transformed before our very eyes into a frail, sweet little old lady. “Yes! I’m so happy they came by! Miss Beal, these are my great grandchildren!”

  This sudden change didn’t startle us. We understood what was going on. Having a convincing cover is half the job of being a good assassin.

  I was surprised when she introduced each of us, bragging about how Louis, Alta and I had just graduated from college, and then how Woody had been at the top of his class at Wharton and about Monty and Jack’s business in LA. She’d been keeping tabs on us. I should’ve been flattered. So why did that make me nervous?

  The problem with coming from a family of assassins is that if anyone goes rogue, some unlucky Bombay was given the assignment to kill him. It’s an unfortunate problem, especially since Mary had to order the execution of family members on more than one occasion without hesitation. If we agreed to do this, that would have to be off the table. Would any of the old traditions and rules be brought back? Once this nurse left, I’d have to remember to mention that.

  “How lovely!” The nurse set a cup down on the table and gave the dead plant a glance. “Still in bad shape? Are you sure you don’t want me to throw it out and get you another one?”