Leslie Langtry - Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy (Mystery Romance)

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Table of Contents

A KILLER DATE

Okay, we want details!

I sighed. His name is Diego. Hes Australian. I met him at the bookstore.

Ooooh! A man with an accent! Liv squealed.

My brother rolled his eyes. And?

Well, hes gorgeous as all get out in that tall-dark-handsome kind of way. Hes very funny and smart and likes kids. Happy?

What does he do for a living? Dak asked.

And there it was. The little thing I didnt want to tell them. Why? Because there was a teensy, weensy chance that there could be, in the way distant future, a slight conflict of interest there.

Hes a bodyguard. I couldnt lie to them. But Im sure it wont be a problem, I rushed to add.

A what? Gin! Are you crazy? Dak yelled. Wont be a problem! He just happens to be a bodyguard in a small city where my immediate family of assassins lives!

But really, how could that be a problem?

To Tom, my hero

Thank you for making this possible .

To Mom

Thank you for making me possible.

A LEISURE BOOK

August 2007

Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

Copyright 2007 by Leslie Thompson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

ISBN-10: 1-4285-0411-7 ISBN-13: 978-0-8439-5933-8

The name Leisure Books and the stylized L with design are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

Printed in the United States of America.

Visit us on the web at www.dorchesternub.com.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I have to thank my children, Margaret and Jack, for respecting my writing time (not an easy thing for an 8- and 6-year-old to do). A huge thanks to Jodi and Natalie, who kicked me in the ass and got me started. And I cant forget my critique group: Elizabeth, Kim, Susan, Stephanie, Theresa, Jan, Tom, Howard, Jane, Ellen, Gina. And I have to send props to my RWA friends from Phoenixthe RomBabes, as well as Misti and Jen from Ohio and of course, Fredericka from Chicago. Thank you to Leah, my editor, who took a chance on me, and a HUGE shout out to the Scoobiesyou know who you are! Thank you to Lori, Beth and Pam for keeping me sane every other Wednesday and to the girls of Brownie Troop #360you are my inspiration. And last but by no means least, thanks to my cousin Wendywho totally gets this family thing. You cant pick your family, but Id pick her.

PRAISE FOR LESLIE LANGTRY AND SCUSE ME WHILE I KILL THIS GUY !

With an irreverent, tell-it-like-it-is, suburban-mom-assassin narrator, Leslie Langtrys Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy delivers wild and wicked fun.

Julie Kenner, USA Today Bestselling Author of California Demon

Leslie Langtry has penned a cleverly fresh and glib mystery with just the right touch of romance in Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy.... It kept me totally entertained first page to last.

Tanzey Cutter, Fresh Fiction

CHAPTER ONE

On a large enough time line, the survival rate for everyone will drop to zero.

Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

No one really liked family reunions. I got that. But when I listen to people complain about it round the water cooler, I couldnt help rolling my eyes. I mean really, try it when you come from a family of assassins. Kind of gave avoiding Aunt Jeans potato salad a whole new meaning.

Thats right. Family of assassins. I came from a line of murderers dating back to ancient Greece. Mafia? Puhleeeese. Ninjas ? Amateurs. Illuminati? How pedestrian. My ancestors had invented the garrote, the ice pick, and arsenic. And Grandma Mary insisted that the wheel had actually been devised as a portable skull crusher. Id tell you the names of some of our famous victims throughout history, but Id had to sign a confidentiality clause in my own blood when I was five. So youd just have to take my word for it.

I turned the engraved invitation over in my hands and sighed. I hated these things. We only held them once every five years, but for some reason, this time, the reunion was only a year after the last one. That meant someone in the family had been naughty. That meant one of my relatives was going to die.

As I stroked the creamy vellum paper, for a brief moment I thought about sending my regrets. But only for a moment. After all, it wasnt an option on the R.S.V.P. card. Unlike most family reunions with sack races, bad weather and crappy T-shirts, where to refuse to go only meant you werent in the ridiculous all-family photo, to turn down this invitation was death. Thats right. Death. Any blooded member of the family who didnt show was terminated.

Now, where had I put that goddamned pen? I rattled through the everything drawer, looking for the onyx pen with the family crest engraved in gold on the side. It may sound pretty callous to throw a centuries-old family heirloom in with tampons, fishing hooks, batteries, and ten-year-old packs of gum, but I didnt exactly have the usual family sense o pride.

I found the pen behind some broken cassette tapes and dusted it off. The coat of arms practically glowed on the cold black surface. Crossed sabers entwined with an asp were topped off with a vial of poison. Lovely. Really sent that warm homemade-chicken-soup kind of feeling. And dont forget the family motto, carved in Greek on the side, which translates as, Kill with no mercy, love with suspicion . Not exactly embroider-on-the-pillow material.

The phone rang, causing me to jump. Thats right. I was a jumpy assassin.

Ginny? My moms voice betrayed her urgency.

Hey, Mom. I got it, I responded wearily. Carolina Bombay was always convinced I would someday skip the reunion.

Dont use that tone with me, Virginia. Her voice was dead serious. I just wanted to make sure.

Right. Like Id miss this and run the risk of having my own mother hunt me down. For some reason, this would be a joke in other families. But in mine, when you strayed, your own family literally hunted you down.

You know it makes me nervous when you dont call the day you get the invitation , Mom said, whispering the words the invitation . It was a sacred thing, and to be honest, we were all more than a little terrified every time we received one. (Did you ever notice that the words sacred and scared differ only by switching two letters?)

Im sorry, I continued lying to my mother. I just popped the R.S.V.P. into the mailbox on the corner. And I would too. No point in taking any chances with my mail carrier losing it. That would be a stupid way to die.

Well, Im calling your brother next. I swear, you kids do this just to torment me! She hung up before I could say good-bye.

So, here I was, thirty-nine years old, single mother of a five-year-old daughter (widowedby cancer, not by family) and still being treated like a child. Not that my childhood had been normal, by any means. You grew up pretty quick with the ritualistic blood oath at five and your first professional kill by fifteen.

To be fair, Mom had a right to be nervous. She had watched her older sister, also named Virginia, get hunted down by Uncle Lou when she failed to appear at the 1975 reunion. That really had to suck. Id been named after her, which kind of jinxed me, I think.

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