by Gina LaManna
“Ditto,” Meg said. “Let’s get out those smoke bombs.”
Anthony gave our plan a thought, and then he sighed. Reaching into his pocket, he removed a few colorful little spheres and glanced down at them.
He nodded to the cabin, a small rickety wooden structure concealed so well it wouldn’t be found unless someone had been given a map.
Anthony gestured for us to be silent and spent the next few minutes scanning the perimeter. I slapped four mosquitoes, flicked a fly from Anthony’s shoulder, and decided I had to go to the bathroom in the amount of time it took for him to declare the surroundings free from additional guards. There wasn’t time for the bathroom, but I managed to swat another mosquito from Meg’s forehead before Anthony spoke.
“We’ll go ahead with the plan,” Anthony said hoarsely. “This first smoke bomb is meant to distract the guard—you two will stay put after it’s tossed until I’ve got the guard restrained. Once I’m sure there’s nobody else, you two rush the cabin.”
“How noble of you,” Meg said, fanning herself. “I like when you do all the work.”
“If something goes awry,” Anthony said, “don’t show your faces. Take off down the mountain and contact Carlos. He’ll know what to do.”
I heaved a sigh. “Isn’t that a gun in front of the guard?”
“Why, yes, it is,” Anthony said wryly. “Did you expect him to watch over Coco’s charge with Super Soakers?”
I scowled. “I just don’t like the idea of you charging at a man with a loaded gun.”
“He’s reading a book,” Anthony said, “His gun is an arm’s reach away. I’ll be on him before he can breathe in the smoke, and once he does catch a whiff, he’ll be too busy trying not to inhale the stuff to go for his gun. I’m more worried about what happens if there’s a second guard in the cabin.”
“How many of them smoke bombs you got?” Meg asked. “Just fork over a couple of them and we can smoke ‘em out ourselves.”
Anthony didn’t look entirely displeased with Meg’s idea, which was a definite first. He handed me a smoke bomb and a lighter. “Lacey’s in charge of the bombs.”
“Sounds good!” Meg snapped her fingers. “Let’s get this show on the road. I can’t leave my honey alone for any longer. I’m sure he misses me.”
Anthony prepared two smoke bombs, lining up the wicks as he flicked on the lighter. “One’s going to the cabin, the other to the guard. Wait for my Go before you rush anywhere.”
“Got it,” I said.
“Three, two ...”
“Bombs away!” Meg shouted.
The guard looked up, the smoke bomb struck, and the plan shot forward in high gear.
“So much for the plan,” Anthony called as he sprinted toward the guard while I tried and failed to keep up with him, veering toward the cabin as we got close.
As if climbing the mountain hadn’t been enough for my miserably unused leg muscles, sprinting across uneven ground while trying to avoid foul-smelling smoke was enough to just about send me into cardiac arrest. Or at least twist an ankle. However, both Meg and I somehow made it to the cabin at the same time Anthony tackled the guard.
“See?” Meg said, as she pulled the door open to the cabin. “It’s not even locked. I told you that guard was alone and bored.”
“Or,” I said, “it’s not locked because there’s someone else inside...”
“Clay!” Meg shrieked as the door swung open. “We found you!”
“And his friend,” I said urgently. “Meg, look out!”
Clay’s “friend” was a second guard sitting at a similarly styled wicker table and chair set. However, in all her giddy glory, Meg was completely oblivious to my warning. She threw herself at Clay with alarming force and wrapped herself around him with wild abandon.
The guard stood, the chair toppling backward as he watched the reunion, startled. By the time he realized he should be holding his weapon, it was too late. His hesitation had given me the time I needed to light the smoke bomb.
When he glanced at me, I tossed it in his direction. It probably would’ve been better to whip out my little pink stun gun, but since that was tucked safely back in my sock drawer at the hotel, I had to do without. Fortunately, my aim wasn’t as horrible as usual.
The smoke bomb’s trajectory brought the capsule sailing down to land directly in front of the guard. He instinctively reached out and caught the smoke bomb in his palm, wick side up, and watched as the putrid, thick fog engulfed him. The entire cabin was smoked out in seconds.
“Those must be some military-grade smoke bombs,” Meg said from somewhere to my right. “I can’t see anything! Where are you? Lacey? Clay?”
“What are you guys doing here?” Clay asked. “Meg?”
“Hurry, this way!” I said, backing toward the door. “Follow my voice! Anthony is with the other guard outside.”
“Which of the other guards?” Clay asked. “The tall one or the short one?”
“What do you mean?” I swiveled to face him as we cleared the smoke at the front door of the cabin. “There’s three of them?”
Clay didn’t need to respond, however, because the answer was right before my eyes. The short one, as Clay had called him, stood with his arm extended, holding Anthony at gunpoint. Anthony stood with the second guard clasped to his chest. He’d managed to cuff the first guard’s hands behind his back, but any further plan was foiled by the appearance of the other guard.
“Uh-oh,” Meg said. “I can see why Anthony didn’t want to do this plan if there was more than one guard hanging around.”
My heart pounded, and my palms dripped with sweat. I was out of smoke bombs with no other weapons to my name. I definitely wasn’t fast enough to break into a sprint and tackle the guard. He’d mow me down before I took two steps forward.
“Meg,” I whispered, “give me your backpack.”
“What?”
“Your backpack,” I said. “Where’s the parachute button?”
Meg’s eyes gleamed. “Y’all hate to admit I’m useful, but you always find yourselves coming to me in moments of need.”
“I will thank you properly later—if this works,” I said brusquely. “The backpack.”
Meg shoved it over my shoulders and strapped me in without anyone noticing the exchange. Before I could open my mouth, she reached for my chest and pressed the button to deploy the parachute.
“Clay made this contraption,” Meg said, as she gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Isn’t it nifty? Well, you’ll find out soon. Have a nice ride!”
“Nifty,” I murmured, as Meg gave me a light shove.
Luckily, the wind was cooperating. As the fabric filled with gusty puffs, it began dragging me across the clearing before I could properly aim. The straps yanked hard at my shoulders and my neck jerked back as the strings went taut. My feet lifted off the ground for a brief second as the parachute gained momentum.
The parachute was large enough that even though the trajectory wasn’t perfect, the fabric thwacked into the short guard as a bullet rang from his gun and nearly shattered my eardrums. Before he had time to fire again, I was on top of him, and we went down in a heap together.
The parachute engulfed the guard in a sea of fabric while I wriggled on top, struggling to detach myself from the backpack. We were a cluster of limbs until I felt a strong arm moving me to one side as Anthony clawed his way through the parachute and loosed the gun from the guard’s hand.
He gave it a hefty toss, sending the weapon sailing far, far out of reach—lost somewhere in the thick foliage. I hit the eject button and struggled to stand. On wobbly legs, I made my way back toward Meg as Anthony made quick work of the flailing guard... just in time for me to remember there was another one still in the hut.
“I’m out of handcuffs,” Anthony said. “Watch your legs or you’ll get tangled again.”
“There’s another guard,” I called. “In the cabin!”
“Perfect.” Anthony swore as he rolled the
short guard into the parachute like a burrito. He secured the package with rope around the guard’s chest and legs, and one more around the waist for good measure. It was more effective than most straightjackets.
Just as he finished, a spluttering sound came from the hut as the final guard entered the scene, stumbling as he blinked putrid smoke out of his eyes. He wobbled toward the crowd, but judging by his dazed expression, he couldn’t see much of anything.
“Hey, you,” Meg called loud enough to get his attention. “Yeah, I’m talking to you.”
The guard turned his face to the sound of her voice. He squinted. “Me?”
“Nobody steals my fiancé.” Then Meg rushed at him in a football style tackle and took him down at the waist. “That’s for making me think I had a runaway groom.”
“Meg, I would never run away from you!” Clay knelt by Meg’s side as she subdued the guard. “I love you. I can’t wait to marry you.”
Then my cousin and my best friend shared a sloppy reunion kiss which had me wincing and turning away. Even Anthony dared not venture too close to the newly reunited couple despite the guard still flailing beneath Meg’s weight.
“Let’s get out of here,” Anthony said, shielding his eyes with his hands. “Here’s some rope, Meg. Tie him up, and then let’s move before Coco catches wind of Clay’s release. I’m sure he’s expecting the guards to check in sooner or later, and we have to be gone before then.”
“We’ll call the police once we get back,” I said. “Leave an anonymous tip for them to come and collect these guys.”
“That’s being too kind,” Meg said. “We could leave them here for the bears to eat.”
“We’re not in the business of letting people get hurt,” I said. “Plus, it’ll be our little message to Coco. If he messes with our family, there will be consequences.”
“Amen, sista.” Meg said. She shoved her hands in her pockets and then looked around. “So, anyone got a better way down from here? My legs don’t feel like walkin’.”
“Do the guards have a vehicle?” I asked Clay. “Like a jeep or maybe a convertible or something?”
Clay shook his head. “They hiked up here. They made me hike up here, too, and I haven’t forgiven them. My glutes are still sore.”
“Too much information.”
“I’ll have to give you a butt massage,” Meg said. “I know that’s your favorite.”
“You guys are gross,” I said. “Let’s get walking.”
“I vote we take the parachute down,” Meg said. “We can swim to shore.”
“We’re hiking,” Anthony said. “Strap on your backpack and let’s move. Meg, if you deploy that parachute, I am not coming after you.”
“Fine,” Meg said. “Although, I do have one request. On account of the fact I discovered some smooshed grapes and a packet of dry oatmeal in my vest, can we take a break first?”
Chapter 20
“Welcome home!” I clapped Clay on the back as we re-entered the hotel. “Good to be back?”
“You can say that again,” Clay muttered. “Though I have to admit, the food wasn’t all bad. Anyway, I’ll feel better after a shower and some time with my...” He swallowed nervously. “Did you by chance hear anything about my missing luggage?”
“We retrieved it,” Anthony said dryly. “Your toys should be in order. Meg has the suitcase.”
“About that order you speak of,” Meg said, raising a finger to interrupt Anthony. “I wouldn’t get too attached to that idea. You’d just be setting yourself up for disappointment.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clay swiveled his gaze to Meg. “Did someone take my babies? I knew it. TSA was jealous. Did they rifle through my things? They shouldn’t have because I have some very sensitive...ah...toys in there.”
“I know,” Meg said. “And if by someone you mean me, then yes. Someone took your things. Or at least, a few of them. But that someone is very pleased with how they worked if that makes any difference.”
“You did what?” Clay’s jaw dropped open. “Why would you mess with my explosives?”
“Voice down,” I muttered to Clay. “You’re in a public place, and we do not want to be declared terrorists while on an island in the middle of the ocean. Or anytime really, but especially now.”
“You’ve taught me well over the years,” Meg said to Clay, tilting her chin up in defense. “And I needed some of your firepower for protection. What’s mine is yours, right? Er—what’s yours is mine, I mean. Whatever. I mixed up a little bomb that sent a cake exploding into the stratosphere.”
“You’d have been very proud,” I said, attempting to help keep the reunion civil. “It saved our lives.”
“Is that right?” Clay’s look of dismay was immediately replaced by one of shock and admiration. He swung an arm over his fiancée’s shoulder, pulled her close, and set off alone toward the elevators. As they left, he could be heard murmuring in Meg’s ear, something that sounded like, “Tell me more, pumpkin.”
I shuddered. “If they team up on Clay’s hobby, the outcome could be...”
“Devastating?” Anthony suggested. “I’m thinking we might need to build a bunker if that’s the case.”
“I’m thinking that’s not a terrible idea,” I said. “Speaking of teamwork, do you mind picking up Bella? I’m going to find Carlos. I have to talk to him.”
“About what?”
“A suspicion that’s been niggling at me for a while now. It finally became clear when I was getting blown around up on that mountain. It’s like that parachute shook an epiphany right into me.”
“Would you care to share more details about said epiphany?”
“I would,” I said, “but I think I need to take it up with Carlos, first. If it involves him, I’d like to give him the chance to fix things.”
“Very well,” Anthony said. “But before you go—I have something you might need.”
“Oh?”
“This came through on the drive back,” he said. “I’ll forward it to you in case it’s relevant to your...visit with Carlos.”
Anthony extended his phone toward me. On the screen was a somewhat blurry image of a skinny guy with black hair that was just a little too long. The subject had slicked it back and wore dark sunglasses that shielded most of his face, which was tilted somewhat to the side. The photo was black and white, and it appeared that the man in it hadn’t known he was on camera.
“Is that—”
“I’ve been doing a lot of digging on this Coco figure,” Anthony said, “and his records are buried deep. This is the only photo—suspected photo, really—my guys could come up with that matches the name.”
“Your timing couldn’t be better,” I said, exhaling a sigh. “Thank you.”
Anthony kissed my forehead. “Try not to blow up this phone or ruin our family tree with your chat. Carlos has led a complicated life and much of it is in the past.”
With that cryptic piece of information to puzzle on, I watched as Anthony headed outside to scour the umbrellas for where Nora was probably sitting in a big fluffy sunhat reading books to Bella. I watched him go with a sense of regret, wishing my biggest concern on this trip was making sure Bella remained slathered in sunscreen or not eating suspicious food from the buffet line. But life was never that easy.
I climbed the stairs to the second floor and knocked on Carlos and Nora’s door. When there was no answer, I waited for a few minutes, then checked the lobby bar, the cafeteria, and the smoothie shack, but there was no sign of my grandfather. It wasn’t until I looked up a list of hotel amenities and saw the cigar lounge that I knew I had him cornered.
The cigar lounge was on the far end of the hotel’s first floor, tucked into a little alcove that kept the swirling smoke locked inside. I stepped through the doors and spotted an old piano through the haze, and on it, a man playing some light jazz. He looked up and smiled at me, and that’s when I realized he had no teeth.
I quickly scanned the room and
found Carlos perched by himself in the far corner, a lit cigar balanced between his fingers. He was staring outside, mesmerized by something I couldn’t see. When I followed his gaze, all I could see was a cluster of trees, and I had no clue what might be fascinating about them.
I inched over, waving a hand in front of my face as if that would dispel the years of smoke build up. The decor was distinctly ‘20’s in nature. Old maroon chairs sunk and hissed as patrons sat on them, while deep mahoganies and solid wood paneling brought out the dim, shadowy aura of the room. It was hard to believe people were baking outside in glaring sunlight just on the other side of the wall when it felt like the middle of the night in here.
“Lacey,” Carlos said, glancing over toward me. “I suspected you’d come to see me.”
“Huh? How could you have possibly known that?”
Carlos gestured for me to have a seat. “I think you’ve been mulling this over for some time, whether you were aware of it or not.”
I thought Carlos gave me a lot more credit than I deserved. Frankly, it hadn’t dawned on me that this mess might be partly Carlos’s to clean up until Sam had said something last night that niggled the epiphany loose in my brain.
“Then you know what I’m here about.”
Carlos shook his head.
“But—”
“What can I help you with?”
I expelled a deep breath as Carlos took a drag of his cigar. “You should quit doing that,” I said. “It’ll kill you.”
“I’ve lasted over sixty years in my...” Carlos blew out a perfect ring. “Profession. I am not afraid of anything.”
“Well, maybe you should be,” I said. “After all, it was tax fraud that got Capone.”
Carlos gave a dry laugh. “You’re a Luzzi through and through.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Carlos’s eyes landed on mine, surveying me with a hint of amusement. “In the nature versus nurture argument, I believe you’re a case that leans toward proving nature. It’s a compliment.”
