Marked for Murder

By Leslie Langtry

From USA Today bestselling author Leslie Langtry comes the latest laugh-out-loud Merry Wrath mystery...

Merry Wrath has been out of the spy biz so long that she's sure the CIA has forgotten all about her. Life in suburban Who's There, Iowa is pretty quiet in comparison to the Company, and as long as her Girl Scout Troop isn't inadvertently burning down her garage (again), Merry is thinking it's time to clean out all the plastique and booby traps she's been hiding in the basement, once and for all. That is, until assassin Hilly Vinton (who isn't an assassin because the CIA doesn't have assassins...but totally is) shows up with an agency-ordered Termination Contract on Merry.

This has to be an elaborate prank. Or so Merry thinks, until she learns that the contract also went out to the Russians, Chechens, and Colombian cartels. It isn't long before Merry's small hometown is flooded with interested bad guys. When these killers start showing up as bodies, Merry isn't sure if she should go on the lam (which has Hilly's enthusiastic vote) or stay to protect Who's There. There are too many questions! Can she solve the murders before the murderer gets her? Should she stay or go? How's it possible that the troop's future-predicting cootie catcher is so accurate? And why does the CIA want Merry Wrath dead?

What critics are saying about Leslie Langtry's books:

"I laughed so hard I cried on multiple occasions! Girl Scouts, the CIA, and the Yakuza... what could possibly go wrong?"
~ Fresh Fiction

"Darkly funny and wildly over the top, this mystery answers the burning question, 'Do assassin skills and Girl Scout merit badges mix...?'"
~ RT BOOKreviews

"Mixing a deadly sense of humor and plenty of sexy sizzle, Leslie Langtry creates a brilliantly original, laughter-rich mix of contemporary romance and suspense."
~ Chicago Tribune

"Langtry gets the fun started from page one."
~ Publisher's Weekly

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
• Release date: Apr 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215596524

Leslie Langtry

Leslie Langtry is the USA Today bestselling author of the Greatest Hits Mysteries, The Adulterer's Unofficial Guide to Family Vacations, and several books she hasn't finished yet, because she's very lazy. Leslie loves puppies and cake (but she will not share her cake with puppies) and lives with her family and assorted animals in the Midwest.

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MARKED FOR MURDER

a Merry Wrath Mystery

by

LESLIE LANGTRY

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Copyright © 2023 by Leslie Langtry

Cover design by Janet Holmes

Gemma Halliday Publishing

http://www.gemmahallidaypublishing.com

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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CHAPTER ONE

The good news is, I'm not here to kill you! Hilly patted me on the back as she handed me what looked like a piece of mail.

Always good to hear, I said as I took the envelope and ushered her into the house.

The assassin, who wasn't an assassin because the CIA doesn't have assassins because that would be illegal, sat at the dining room table, where I'd been trying to untangle a skein of yarn from my angry cat.

How have you been? Hilly asked, her eyes on the envelope in my hands. How's Rex? How's the weather?

Hilly? My eyebrows went up. What are you doing? She didn't make small talk. Hilly was always more the hello, who do I kill? kind of spy.

She began picking at her cuticles. Something I'd never seen her do before. I broke up with Max.

That stopped me cold. "Max? Who's Max? You were dating someone? Like a human man?"

She didn't look at me. Instead, she picked up the yarn and began untangling it from Philby, my cat who looked like Hitler and basically had the same disposition.

"I was thinking of taking up knitting, I said. But Philby found my yarn, and… I pointed at the feline führer, who looked like she was bound up to be kidnapped. I did a cartoon double-take. Hold on! You said you were dating a guy!"

Hilly seemed to deflate as a whoosh of air came out of her mouth. Fine. I'm not dating anyone. I'm trying to talk about useless stuff to make this easier for you.

My breath caught in my throat. This seemed bad. Hilly was never anything but completely forthright. She pointed to the envelope.

I gently lifted the flap. There was a folded piece of paper inside, but I didn't pull it out.

It's okay, Hilly said. I transferred it to an envelope myself. I'm pretty sure there's no anthrax inside. I haven't used the stuff in years. She cocked her head to one side for a moment to think before looking at me and nodding me on.

I pulled out the piece of paper and unfolded it. I was right to be wary. There, at the top of the page, was an unflattering photo of me. The agency photographer got me on a day when my short, dirty-blonde hair was messier than usual and I looked like I was distracted by a case or constipated (you'd be surprised how similar those expressions were).

The page held all my vital information, including my discharge from the CIA due to the vice president of the time accidentally outing me in order to get back at my senator father. My current address was there, with the notation that I was married, with my husband's information.

None of this would be unusual, if it weren't for the huge red words stamped across the top that read TERMINATE, BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY.

Merry? Hilly asked, waving her hand in front of my face after a few minutes of me staring at the kill order with my mouth hanging open.

I looked at her and blinked. Then I plopped down in a chair.

See? Hilly said as she went back to untangling the yarn. This is why I wanted to make small talk first. I've heard it lessens the blow. It's something I've been trying with my targets lately. And it works, until they realize what I'm there for.

I stared at her. Were you sent to kill me?

Hilly nodded eagerly. Yes! And of course I told them I would do it.

Why did you do that? was all I could manage. My voice came out squeaky, like when a yappy little dog inhales helium.

She shrugged. "Because they'd think I'd handle it and they wouldn't assign it to anyone else! I mean, if anyone's going to kill you, it should be a friend, right?"

She pulled a huge tangle apart. Philby just sat there like a yarn mummy, glaring at me as if 1) this was all my fault and 2) wondering if she could be the one to take me out.

But I have no intention of killing you. I just thought it would buy us some time, Hilly continued. That's really nice of me. Especially when there's a dumpster across the street at your old house, sitting there so convenient like.

Hilly liked dumpsters. It was her calling card. She always left her targets' bodies in dumpsters. She said it helped the environment by recycling.

The ladies moved out of my old house, I said, as if I had to justify why there was a dumpster in my driveway. Is this real? Then it hit me, and I clutched my chest. Whoa! You almost got me there! Good job, by the way. I totally fell for it!

My pounding heart started to slow down with relief.

Hilly looked confused. My smile faded.

This is real? I held up the piece of paper. There's a termination order out on me? Why?

Hilly propped her face in her hands and looked at me. I don't know! What did you do? And more importantly, why didn't you do it with me? She paused. But then there'd be a termination order on me too. She brightened. Thanks for not involving me!

I didn't do anything! I got out of the chair and began pacing. I've been out of the agency for years! This is some sort of mistake!

Riley Andrews walked into my house without knocking and rushed over to me, guiding me back to my chair as if I was old and infirm. His gorgeous blue eyes were deadly serious. Riley had been my handler when I was a spy and now lived in Who's There, Iowa as a private investigator. The man was too gorgeous for his own good, which was controversial when he had distraught female clients who worried that their husbands were cheating on them. Unfortunately, many of them began cheating on their husbands with Riley, so maybe his being a PI wasn't the greatest of ideas…

Merry, I have some bad news. I don't know how to tell you this, but…

I held up the paper, and he stopped talking. He looked at Hilly.

"They sent you? I thought you were her friend!" he snapped.

Hilly once again seemed confused. I volunteered. She turned to me. "Wait, am I not your best friend? Cuz that might change things…"

She did it to buy some time, I explained. Do you have any idea what's going on?

Riley sat in the next chair. I don't know. I can't think of anything. I just got a call from Ahmed at Langley, who tipped me off and asked if he could now buy Girl Scout cookies from Kelly since you were about to be dead.

My name is Merry Wrath Ferguson, and I used to be a CIA agent before my untimely dismissal. Originally named Fionnaghuala Merrygold Czrygy, I changed my name and moved back to my hometown to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. The answer, it turned out to my complete surprise, was to be a Girl Scout leader for a troop in Who's There, Iowa.

Somewhere along the line, I got married, had two cats, a dog, and two houses across the street from each other. My husband, Rex, was the town's detective, which came in sort of handy because I always seemed to be tripping over bodies.

But this was new, because the body in question was about to be mine.

I had a perfect record! I shouted. I got excellent evaluations! I've been inactive for seven years! How is this possible?

Riley and Hilly shrugged simultaneously, which seemed unhelpful at best.

It's a mistake, I decided. Who do I call? HR? Wait, I don't want to do that. Those women are scary.

I should probably explain that the human resources department at the CIA was made up of Amazonian dominatrices who had their own dungeon. No, I'd better not bother them. They took their jobs and masochism very seriously.

Ahmed didn't say why? I pressed Riley.

No. He looked at Hilly, who finally freed Philby from her cocoon. You don't know why?

The assassin snorted. "No! Like they'd tell me anything. They just want me to get the job done."

We have to figure this out! I insisted. In a few days, they're going to realize Hilly didn't do the job and this town will be crawling with agency assassins, who aren't assassins because…oh, screw the disclaimer!

Why don't we just fake your death? Hilly suggested. I can get a body from Soo Jin at the morgue!

Dr. Soo Jin Body was the county medical examiner and a close, personal friend.

Do you think she'd do it? I wondered.

Or… She tapped her chin. "I could just go to Des Moines, find someone who looks like you, and floss the orca."

Hilly had used one of her unusual euphemisms for her job. The CIA had experimented briefly with this idea before realizing that it only confused people and because animal activists found out and protested the spy agency hurting (or in this case grooming) wild animals. Admin rescinded the practice, but Hilly still used it. No one stopped her because she had a 100% kill rate.

Killing someone who looked like me wouldn't completely solve the problem. I'd have to go into hiding forever. We have to fix this by getting the order reversed, I said after a moment.

Riley stood up and headed for the door. I'll see what I can find out. The door slammed behind him.

Hilly looked disappointed. So, no body double? She looked longingly at the dumpster across the street. Alright, fine, she sighed. What's plan B?

I went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. "This is plan B, I said as I poured us each a glass. Plan C is to try to talk to someone at the agency and find out how to reverse it."

Hey! Hilly said as she swallowed the whole glass in one gulp. I think there's a way!

She asked for access to my laptop, and it took her a few minutes once she'd logged in.

There are forms for everything here, I pointed out. There's a form to appeal a termination order! Could it actually be this easy? The CIA was known for their slavish devotion to unnecessary paperwork.

Hilly pulled it up, and we looked it over.

It says you need three years' tax returns. Hilly squinted at the screen. A urine sample, and five character references. I don't know how you'd send in a urine sample digitally.

Why is it fifty-two pages long? I groused. That will take days!

Hilly sat back and bit her lip. They only gave me three days, mostly out of respect for the fact that I have to kill my best friend.

That seemed uncharacteristically nice of them. A thought popped into my head. What if I call Dad? He's chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee!

Oh sure. Hilly seemed less enthusiastic about this idea. That might work.

My heart felt twenty pounds lighter. I could do what people have been doing for centuries when faced with a sticky problem—go get help from my dad.

He's in Mongolia, kiddo. There's no phone service where he is, and he'll be gone a week. What do you need? Mom asked.

I slumped. Judith Czrygy, while a brilliant and beautiful power player among congressional spouses, couldn't help with this unless I required a gala fundraiser to solve this problem. And I certainly couldn't tell her what was going on, because she'd get on the first plane and come here to protect me.

Oh nothing, Mom. Thanks though. Love you! I hung up. Crap. That's not going to work.

We started to fill out the online form. After three hours of only advancing four of the fifty-plus pages, I closed the laptop.

Back to my idea? Hilly asked hopefully.

Not a chance. It looks like we're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way, I decided.

Hilly perked up. Kill everyone at the CIA? I have been playing around with some special poisonous gasses, and if we send it through the right ducts…

I held up my hand to stop her. Sometimes I didn't really know if Hilly was kidding or not. Nope. We're going to handle this differently. We're going to have to prove my innocence.

The trick was going to be finding out what I was supposedly guilty of first.

CHAPTER TWO

We were interrupted by the doorbell. Hilly ran for it and returned with Grigori Ivanovich and his giant henchman, Jerry, who as far as I knew didn't have a last name. Grigori was a dangerous Russian who ran his own crime syndicate. Jerry was a huge, six-foot-five-inch henchman who had a major crush on Hilly because she kicked his butt in a fight. Love is weird. Go figure.

I have just heard! Grigori came forward, grabbed me by the shoulders, and crushed me in a bear hug.

You just heard? How is that possible? I gasped for air before extricating myself from his grip.

The old Russian who bore a striking resemblance to Santa shrugged. The word went out this morning. He motioned to Jerry, who was making moony eyes at Hilly, who didn't notice. We came to help.

What do you mean, the word went out this morning? I asked. This is internal CIA business.

Grigori bent down to pat Philby on the head. The furball traitor purred beneath his touch while fixing me with an angry stare. They don't trust the agent they sent. They're hiring it out on contract.

My legs turned to rubber as I fell back into my chair. More assassins were out to kill me?

They don't trust me? Hilly gaped. "I'm the best they have! If I say I'm going to fluff dry the squirrel, I mean it! She must've realized what she'd said, because she turned to me. Sorry. I mean anyone but you."

Thanks, I said weakly.

Grigori looked around. You have a lovely home. Leonard trotted into the room, and Grigori began to pet him, much to Philby's dismay. You could use some rugs though. I'll bring some for you next time. Do you like Snoopy?

The elderly Russian gangster was a hard-core rug latch hooker who made all of his men join in his hobby. His specialty was flowers, but he did the occasional puppy and kitten from time to time.

This is bad. Hilly sat down across from me. It's very rude for the agency to bring in other contractors. And very bad for you because at this moment, assassins from every cabal are going to come here in hopes of currying favor from the CIA.

Not helping, I grumbled.

But she was right. This was very bad. Who's There was literally going to be crawling with killers. The CIA rarely involved others…especially in domestic policy. They must really want me dead if they were going to these lengths to end me.

I still think I should find a look-alike, Hilly said.

I'll help. Jerry nodded eagerly. Whatever you need, I'm your man. He was looking at Hilly, not me.

Oh. Hilly sounded dismissive. That's nice.

Do you want to go out sometime? Jerry asked hopefully. You've never returned my calls.

Hilly shook her head. I'm sorry. I just broke up with my boyfriend, Max. I'm afraid I'll need some time to recover.

She was using the fictional Max on him, but I wasn't going to say anything. It wouldn't do to have her get distracted right now. At least, not more than normal.

I will provide security, Grigori sat. Philby ran over and dropped into his lap. And I will keep an eye on the situation.

Hey hon? Rex called from the doorway before appearing. There's a bunch of guys in the front yard, armed with AKs, latch hooking rugs. He spotted Grigori and looked at Jerry, who smiled and waved.

Hello, Grigori. Rex extended his hand. His tone was friendly but wary.

It is nice to see you too, my friend. Grigori shook Rex's hand. Have you met my colleague, Jerry?

Jerry shook Rex's hand and then glanced at Hilly as if to say, see what a great guy I am?

Rex looked at Hilly and me. What's going on?

You'd better sit down. I indicated the chair next to me.

Merry! Riley ran into the house…again. The contract has been extended to other organizations, including organized crime! He stopped when he spotted Grigori and Jerry. He immediately got between them and me. If you want her, you're going to have to go through me, he growled.

Sit down, Lancelot, I said wearily. They say they're here to help.

Ah. That explains the guys with guns in the front yard making rugs, Riley said before greeting Grigori and Jerry in a more friendly way.

Will someone tell me what's going on? Rex asked firmly.

Hilly filled him in, with Riley interjecting now and again. Grigori explained his presence. Rex took it pretty well, considering that his wife was a target for assassination from her old employer.

Ever the host, my husband seemed to process this as he offered everyone drinks and food then went to the kitchen to prepare it. Rex never overreacted, choosing to keep his cool at all times, even if he was screaming inside. It was one of the things I loved about him. I followed him, closing the door behind me.

I am so sorry about this, I said as I closed the gap between us.

Rex took me in his arms and squeezed me tight. It's not your fault. He then held me at arm's length. Is it?

Not that I'm aware. I pulled cheese, crackers, and sausage from the fridge. I've been out of the agency a long time now. I can't for the life of me figure out why this is happening.

We took food and drink into the dining room, which had new visitors, including Ron, Ivan, Kurt, and Teo.

Little sister! Ron came over and crushed me to his chest so hard my feet left the ground.

I want to hug little sister too. Ivan took me from Ron, my feet still above the floor, and did the same thing.

Ron and Ivan were two muscleheads who used to work for the Chechen strongman I'd been embedded with back in my spy days. They'd since moved here, married Rex's twin sisters, and were expecting their first children, both boys who were due at the same time. Together, the two of them had the intelligence of a block of Swiss cheese.

Let me down, please, I asked politely.

Kurt Allen Hobbs III, Esquire, Riley's new protégé, stepped forward, but I held up my hands.

I've been hugged enough today, but thank you all for coming.

Kurt smiled, most likely thrilled about the idea of taking on some assassins. The kid started out with his own bounty hunter business, helped me with a couple of things, and now worked for Riley. He was a good guy and made up for his naivete with an extreme enthusiasm you would usually see on state fair princesses and anyone from Turkmenistan.

I, too, heard it through the grapevine, Teo said solemnly. A former cartel brother told me.

So the cartels know too? I threw my hands into the air out of frustration.

Teo was a retired Colombian drug cartel leader who'd been an enemy when I was with Carlos the Armadillo. The US government had granted him immunity for intel, and he'd moved to Who's There to settle down with his daughter, Elena. While he was very friendly now, I was getting used to his existence, and that's all I'm going to say about that.

Don't worry. Teo flashed a grin. I told them I was taking care of it. They won't send anyone else.

We should have thought of that, Grigori countered. "I'll send out a notice to my private Russian oligarch group and my Killers Hookers group on Facebook, saying I'm