Lacey Luzzi: Seasoned: A humorous, cozy mystery! (Lacey Luzzi Mafia Mysteries Book 7)

by Gina LaManna

  “I’m not.” Mack smiled easily. “Those things aren’t exclusive.”

  “Hmm.” I finally wriggled most of the paper off, sliding out a box with red and green colorful pictures on the outside. “Look! Mack, look! I never told him I liked these.”

  “Gingerbread houses?” Mack peered closer. “Neat.”

  “You’re being patronizing.”

  “No, they’re just…not my thing.”

  “But Anthony knew they were mine…” I sighed. “A house made of sugar and candy. It’s a dream come true.”

  Mack shook his head, moving back to the stove and pouring coffee into two cups. “No sugar in here until you try it plain.”

  He set the cup before me, as I eyed the beautiful gingerbread house set, touched by Anthony’s thoughtfulness. Maybe we could put it together after the event, once he arrived. That’d be nice.

  “Drink it,” Mack instructed. “This is the real deal.”

  I looked into the cup of black. It looked like coffee, smelled like coffee, but was missing all of the coffee fixings. “I need about fifteen sugar cubes.”

  “Just try it first.”

  “Good morning,” Meg said, waltzing into the kitchen. She swiped up the coffee mug in front of me, downed the whole thing in one gulp, and smiled at the two of us. “Thanks, that was delicious.”

  Mack gaped at her. “How did she do that?” He turned to me. “That was boiling hot.”

  “I’m descended from a dragon,” Meg said. “Good coffee. I’d have more, if you’re making it.”

  Mack moved back to the stove mechanically. “All right. At least someone appreciates it.”

  “Give up now if you’re trying to convince Lacey to try it.” Meg clasped my shoulder in her hand. “She won’t drink it unless it’s sugar soup. So, what’s for breakfast?”

  “Well, let’s figure out what we’re doing today, first,” I said. “That way we know if we should go out, eat here, which direction to drive, etc.”

  “Miss Lizabeth called this morning,” Mack said, turning around after flicking the stove on to boil water. “She meant to come welcome you this morning, but she’s…indisposed.”

  Meg pointed a finger down her throat. “Gag.”

  “She gave me permission to disclose all the details of the case to you, in her absence.” Mack crossed his arms. “Is now a good time?”

  I nodded. “Good as ever.”

  “It’d be better if I had something in my stomach,” Meg said. “Something along the lines of bacon, eggs, and hash browns.”

  “It’s not often we see girls out here who aren’t on a diet,” Mack said. “I like that in a woman.”

  “I know you ain’t looking for a relationship,” Meg said. “But if your internal clock starts beeping and you’re sick of hitting the snooze button on that biological alarm, come on out to Minnesota. We got girls who can eat there, not like these skinny things out here. Well, Lacey’s skinny, but not because she doesn’t eat, that’s for sure.”

  “I can talk and cook at once. Does that work for y’all?” Mack raised his eyebrows.

  “You really don’t have to,” I said. “It’s not your job to cook or entertain us, we can grab a bite to eat on the way somewhere. Please, enjoy your coffee. Take a load off.”

  “I don’t have to, but I like to cook.” Mack reached into the fridge and withdrew a carton of eggs. “I’m not good at much, but I can cook breakfast foods. Good, Southern breakfasts.”

  Meg nodded in approval.

  I opened my mouth to protest again, but Mack bulldozed ahead. “So, the reason you’re here is because we’ve received threats regarding the premier.”

  “What sort of threats?” I leaned forward. “Phone, written, verbal?”

  “Phone.” Mack opened the egg carton. “Someone had been calling Miss Lizabeth’s cell phone, a number she doesn’t give out to anyone except her highly trusted personal staff. Like myself, for example.”

  “You’re not making these phone calls, are you?” Meg asked. “Cause it’d be a shame if I had to shoot you after this fancy breakfast.”

  “Not me.” Mack broke an egg over a pan. “The threats are vague. She’s gotten five calls total. Three of them are the heavy breathing sort of thing, scare tactics. The other two, those were from a mechanically disguised voice. The first one said, ‘I’ll be waiting for you. Your next public appearance.’”

  “And the next public appearance is the premier?” I asked.

  He nodded. “The dog won its fashion show or whatever, but that was a few weeks ago. The threats didn’t start until about a week ago. The first one we took seriously, but couldn’t do too much about. The second threat came through the day we called you. Miss Lizabeth was willing to overlook a threat to her own person, but when the caller involved her dog, she requested extra security immediately.”

  “Why did she hire us?” I asked. “Luzzi Services?”

  “She’d been talking about you nonstop since she returned from Minnesota, just waiting for the opportunity.” Mack shrugged. “It wasn’t a secret that she was impressed with your safekeeping of her dog’s crown. She put you on speed dial.”

  “What did the second threat say?” I tried to hide my pleasure at Lizabeth’s glowing praise.

  “It said, ‘The dog has it coming. Your next public appearance.’” Mack gave a wry smile. “The first threat was for her. She all but ignored it. But when they brought the dog into the mix, she ramped it up. Loves that thing more than most people love their children.”

  “Speaking of…” I lowered my voice and whispered to Meg, “do you have Tupac in your room? Is he fed?”

  “Of course.” Meg smiled. “He’s my BFF. You know, since Anastasia didn’t let me keep Ying or Yang, I had to adopt him.”

  “You can’t adopt him, he’s my cat.”

  “Too late.” She shrugged. “He likes me better.”

  “That’s stealing!”

  “Mack, you tell her what’s up,” Meg said. “Shouldn’t Lacey just want whatever’s best for Tupac?”

  Mack raised his hands and stepped backwards, busying himself at the stove.

  “Share him?” I suggested.

  “Deal,” Meg said. “Eighty-twenty custody. Eighty goes to me. You take the twenty percent when he needs his litter box cleaned.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “That’s life.” Meg winked. “Now, is that bacon I smell?”

  CHAPTER 13

  Twenty minutes later, the scent of sizzling bacon had acted as an alarm clock, dragging Clay from the depths of slumber. He stumbled wearily into the kitchen, where Meg waved, mid-sip on her fifth cup of coffee.

  “Late night?” she asked.

  Clay’s eyes flicked to me. “A bit.”

  “He was busy looking into something for me,” I said, glancing at Clay. “I asked him to do me a favor.”

  Clay’s gaze first turned surprised, then morphed into one of relief. “Yeah, I finished up only a few hours ago.”

  “Pop a squat.” I patted the seat next to me, filling Clay in on all of the threats Lizabeth had received as Mack dished up a heavenly smelling breakfast. By the time we each had our plates full, I’d caught Clay up to date, and silence overtook the room once more.

  “Not a chatty bunch when food comes out,” Mack said, nodding with approval. “We’ll get along just fine.”

  Nobody answered, as we were all too busy eating. Breakfast at Casa Luzzi never lasted long, unless they were Nora’s pancakes. In that case, they turned into fossils, since nobody would touch them with a ten-foot long fork.

  After breakfast, we showered, each of us able to shower at the same time, without the hot water running out. In separate bathrooms, of course. Which I considered the definition of luxury. Back home, Clay and I had to wait forty-five minutes for the hot water heater to recharge between showers. And if someone flushed the toilet, forget about showering for at least sixty minutes.

  I wrapped myself in a robe after a long, lavende
r-scented shower, shuffling back to the room. When I opened the door, I found not one, but three outfits laid out on the bed. Three different styles. All my size.

  I glanced around, wondering if this were all real. I pressed the intercom button to connect me to Meg’s room. “Did you find clothes?”

  “Three sets!” she called back. “I couldn’t decide which to wear, so I put them all on.”

  “Did you see who dropped off the clothes?”

  “The ghosts.”

  “What?”

  “The ghosts,” she said, the patience waning in her voice. “Who else do you think did it? I haven’t seen another soul here except for Mack, and no offense, but dudes don’t understand female clothing sizes. All those fresh hand towels, the appearing clothes, slippers, and robes…the only explanation is the ghosts.”

  “I agree with that,” Mack said across the intercom. “It’s definitely the ghosts. We call the main one Charlie.”

  “Does this intercom not have any privacy?” I asked, punching the button. “I’m connected to Meg’s room only.”

  “No, you’re not,” Mack said. “Your intercom has been on for hours.”

  “Well, can someone fix it?” I asked. “It’s a bit invasive.”

  “Ask the ghosts,” Meg said. “They left out fresh sheets for me, too.”

  “I’ll send someone in,” Mack said. “Give me a few minutes.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Not now! Mack, that was too fast! I’m still not dressed. Tell Charlie to come back.”

  “That’s not Charlie,” Mack said. “I haven’t said anything to him yet. I’m down in the garage prepping the vehicles for today.”

  I removed my finger from the button, taking slow steps towards the door. I hugged the towel to my body, wishing the wood had a peephole through the center of it. Since I couldn’t peek, I cracked the door open the smallest amount, sneaking a quick glance into the hallway.

  Nobody.

  A shiver slithered through my body, and for a moment, I wondered if there might be ghosts. Goosebumps prickled my flesh, and I scanned the hallway one more time. Still seeing nobody, I started to close the door.

  But before I fastened it shut, a box on the floor caught my eye. A small package, light blue in color, fancy wrapping paper, no card.

  I smiled, throwing the door open and retrieving the small box. I waited there for a moment, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mystery delivery man or woman, or maybe Charlie, but only silence filled the hallway. I took the box back inside with me, closing the door and flouncing on my bed.

  My first thought went to Anthony. Another present? He’d said a larger one was coming. I toyed with the ribbon holding the wrapping paper together, wanting to pull it, but for some reason hesitating. Maybe it was actually from Lizabeth, as a gift for working over the holiday season, helping her so last minute. I searched again for a card, but like the first time, couldn’t find a note. Maybe it was on the inside. Or so I told myself, because I didn’t have the patience to wait.

  Unwrapping the box, I found a plain, white, obviously expensive gift box. I didn’t own many fancy pieces of jewelry, so I couldn’t point out a brand, but I could tell it wasn’t Kmart.

  “Ooh,” I breathed at the sparkling silver bracelet – a thin, delicate band with a teensy diamond in the center. I picked it up, my fingers holding it as gently as a dandelion gone to seed, enjoying the feel of it in my palm.

  My heart raced, the ache in my stomach growing larger until it felt like a hole. I missed Anthony, more than a reasonable amount after a single day. Underneath the puffy fabric that’d guarded the bracelet in its box, sat a simple white card, with a simple message, printed in a simple font.

  Thinking of you!

  I clasped a hand over my mouth, hiding a squeal of glee. Wait ’til I showed Meg this gorgeous thing! I could wear it to the event tomorrow night. A subtle message that Anthony was with me, even if he couldn’t be here in person.

  I reached for my phone, sending him a message.

  Me: Thank you for the gifts, Anthony. Xoxo It’s beautiful.

  Anthony: Beautiful? You like it?

  I looked down at the bracelet. The silver glinted under the sunlight filtering through the curtains, the gem casting just the right amount of sparkle without being gaudy.

  Me: You didn’t have to do that, it’s very thoughtful.

  Anthony: It’s just something small. I have a much larger version at home.

  My mind flicked a hundred miles an hour. A much larger version? Of what, the bracelet? My mind went to dangerous territory. A much larger version of the…diamond?

  Almost immediately, I went from feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to feeling like I might throw up. I liked Anthony, a lot. One might use the word love, if one’s name was Mack. But Anthony and I had only been dating six months, not even. We didn’t live together. I hadn’t seen his place. I didn’t know half of his life story. I wasn’t ready to get married.

  Suddenly things started to make sense. Anthony being “busy” these past few days. His hinting with the bracelet. The Christmas holidays coming fast…was he testing the waters, seeing if I’d be okay with it?

  I focused on doing some who-who-hee deep breaths – the kind I’d seen in movies during childbirth classes – and focused on bringing my heart rate down to a manageable level. My breathing bordered on hyperventilation status and, try as I might, stars blinked around the edges of my consciousness.

  How would I break the news to Anthony? I didn’t want to upset him, hurt his feelings, or scare him away – all of those would be bad, worst case scenarios. But if I waited too long and he asked me…oh, no, what if he asked me to marry him in front of my family on Christmas?

  I wouldn’t be able to say no. But I also wasn’t sure if I could say yes.

  Toying with my phone in my hands, I considered my response carefully.

  Me: Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t think it’s necessary.

  Anthony: =]

  Oh, no. Why did I ever teach him to use emojis? Now I couldn’t tell if he was actually happy, or just trying to appease me.

  Me: Really, you’ve done so much for me already, maybe we should take things slow. My present to you isn’t anything crazy.

  Speaking of, I needed to find him a present.

  Anthony: You’ve been asking for a while now, I figured this might be the right time.

  I snapped my eyes shut, not sure this was a conversation we should be having over text message.

  Me: Well, I know you’re busy, and I’m about to head to the event site to set up surveillance equipment, but I just wanted to say thank you, again. I can’t believe how lucky I am.

  Anthony: I saw it, and knew you had to have it. I’m glad you like it.

  Me: I like it. And I like you, and I can’t wait to see you. Bye for now…XO

  Anthony: =]

  Anthony: >3

  I twisted my head sideways, trying to decipher the last emoticon, and failing. Was that supposed to be a heart? I shrugged, clicking my phone off and sizing up the bracelet once more. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, there was no arguing about it.

  And who was I to freak out over a bracelet? Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. We’d never talked about marriage before, so maybe I just had a case of the Christmas Crazies, and I was letting the holiday spirit get to me.

  But even so, the clues were there. Anthony’s elusiveness had me wondering.

  I needed a distraction right now, something to think about that’d keep my mind from spinning out of control. Picking the midpoint between the casual and the fancy outfit on the bed, I dressed in a finely tailored pair of jeans and oversized white blouse, feeling quite chic as I slipped my feet into perfectly sized boots. If Charlie was a ghost lurking around this place, he certainly had good taste.

  CHAPTER 14

  Putting all thoughts of rings, weddings, and long term commitments out of my mind, I focused on the task at hand: preventin
g Meg from getting arrested before we even started the job.

  “Are you sure y’all don’t need help?” Mack asked. He stood next to my shoulder and watched as Meg ducked behind an empty concession stand in the expansive new theater. “What is she doing?”

  “I do need help. Babysitting.” I rolled my eyes, looking to Mack. He’d parked the inconspicuous Honda in the lot on the corner. “She’s burying guns in a secret place. Backup, she says.”

  “What about the workers?” Mack crossed his arms. “If I was a fifteen-year-old kid with zits on my face, and I found a gun in one of the popcorn buckets…”

  “Yeah, good point.” I gave a wry smile. “You don’t have to stick around. This is what we signed up for, not you. I’ll give you a call when we need a ride home.”

  “Okay.” He moved towards the couch in the corner of the theater, taking a seat, his eyes locked on Meg’s latest hiding spot – the soda fountain.

  “You can leave the building,” I called to him. “You don’t have to stay.”

  “I don’t have to, but it’s more entertaining than sitting at the Starbucks next door.” His blue eyes danced with amusement, and I gave up trying to get him to leave.

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Lacey, check it out,” Meg said. “We’ve got a fully stocked artillery bar.”

  “We don’t need a fully stocked artillery bar,” I said, surveying her handiwork. A Taser sat next to the Junior Mints in the display case, lightly hidden under a package of Red Vines. The butt of a gun poked out of the popcorn popper, while what might be a grenade sat atop the soda fountain. “This is dangerous. We’re supposed to make this place safer, and I’m afraid you’ve done the opposite. What if a bystander finds this?”

  “So I shouldn’t leave my pocket knife under the rug?”

  I shook my head.

  “Aw, darn.” Meg set about retrieving all of her supplies, filling up a popcorn bucket with more firepower than I’d ever seen in one place.

  “We’ve got to be strategic about this,” I said. “Where’s Clay?”