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

by Gina LaManna

  “There, good girl,” the man said, removing the hand from my mouth and sliding it over to my shoulder. Now both of his large, strong hands held my back to the wall, his gun glinting in the sunlight from the window. “I knew you were the smartest of the bunch.”

  Despite the dangerous weapon on his hip and the threatening words spewing from his mouth, the man looked like an average, American soccer dad. Sandy, brown hair covered a cherubic face, his cheeks ruddy with exertion. He had a bit of a beer belly, which didn’t say much about my own fitness levels, seeing how he’d snuck up and taken me hostage before I’d even realized what was happening. Even now, I could feel the strength beneath his bulky arms as he pressed me harder and harder into the cement wall.

  “Ouch,” I whispered, squinting in pain, unable to move much of anything. My arms were trapped, my shoulders out of commission, and my breaths shallow. I eyed his waist, wondering if I could get my knee up into the body part that would make the “dad” part of “soccer dad” no longer valid.

  But I hesitated. Something told me that if the man wanted me dead, I’d be dead. And seeing how I was still alive, I couldn’t waste the opportunity to find out why he did want me.

  “Here’s what’s happening. We’re going to go out the window,” he said. “Drop down onto my waiting van. You try one funny thing and I shoot. The fall won’t break your legs…unless I help it along. Got it?”

  “There’s glass on the window,” I said, feeling a bit dumb.

  “Captain Obvious, aren’t you? It pops off.”

  “You planned this in advance,” I said, speaking slowly. “Your van is waiting, you’ve scouted out this place…why? I hadn’t even planned to be here until a few days ago. And we didn’t know we’d be back until an hour ago.”

  “You’re making my job a lot easier for tomorrow night,” he said. “I didn’t plan on you coming back here today, but that’s a lucky break. You came back, I happened to be ready…and whabam.”

  My mind flashed to the bomb downstairs. If I could hold this man here for a few more minutes, Clay or Meg might come looking for me. And if not, maybe the bomb would go off and, since I was aware of this teensy issue and my captor was not, I might be able to get a jump on him and grab the gun while he was distracted.

  “Let’s go,” he said, reaching for the gun and removing one hand from my shoulder. “Move towards the window. Any funny business and I fire.”

  I raised my hands above my head. “Hang on, I’m making your job easier for tomorrow night?” The situation started clicking into place. “Does that mean you’re really after Lizabeth, for some reason?”

  The man stared at me. “I’m not answering your questions.”

  “You are,” I said. “You think that if you get me and my team out of the way tonight, you’ll be able to get to Lizabeth and her dog tomorrow night.”

  “Move.”

  I took two steps to the window, estimating how much longer I needed to stall the man before my cousin and friend realized something was wrong. Well, that something more than an impending bomb was wrong. I stopped in front of the sink, mentally calculating the time left on the bomb’s timer to be around two minutes.

  “Can I use the restroom first?” I asked, my voice quiet. “Really quick. You scared me back there and, well…if you don’t want me to pee in your van, that might be the smart thing.”

  “I planned for your arrival,” the man said. “I’ve got garbage bags for you in the backseat, you lucky girl.”

  Uh-oh. Garbage bags meant easy clean up. I didn’t like this man considering clean up duties when it came to things involving my body.

  “Who are you working for?” I asked. “You’re obviously getting paid to do this.”

  “If someone is paying me, do you think they’d like me to let my lips flap about it all night long? Get to the window and pop the glass out.”

  I took two more steps towards the window, my fingers feeling the edges of the frame. I spotted the latch to pop out the pane immediately, but pretended I had no clue how to sneak out a window. He certainly couldn’t have known that window-sneakage was one of my fortes; after the stint in the bathroom at Tonka, I was practically a pro. Then again, I’d been kidnapped right after that, as well. Maybe I should stop sneaking out windows so often.

  “Is it Janie?” I asked. “Is she paying you? Or maybe Amanda?”

  “The latch is to the left,” he said. “Flick it up and pull.”

  I pretended to struggle, counting down the seconds, hoping Clay would come looking for me. But when the gun pressed against my back, I magically found the release lever, lickety-split.

  “I’m going,” I said. “Even though I still don’t understand what you want with me.”

  “Push the pane out, but don’t you dare let it fall,” he said. “Any loud noises, and you’ll get one more to join it; the bang of my gun, if you know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said through gritted teeth, “because you just said what you mean.”

  “Lacey?” Meg called up the stairs. “Come down here. We might have to go with Operation Volcanic Toilet.”

  “You have two options, lady. Get out that window in the next three seconds, or else we’ll wait here, and I will shoot your friend the second she walks in the door.”

  “You wouldn’t do that,” I said. “You want us alive.”

  “My instructions were to get you alive, not anyone else.”

  “So you are working for someone. Who?”

  “Option one or two? Choose now.”

  Neither of my options looked good, but anything would be better than Meg walking into a trap. I turned, popped the window pane out of its frame, and set it gently onto the floor.

  “Let’s go. Help me up.”

  “Now you’re talking.” He grunted, keeping the gun trained on my rear end as he leaned down and hoisted me onto the window ledge.

  I straddled the ledge, giving one last thought to how satisfying the crunch of this man’s nose would be if I connected my foot with his face right now.

  “Don’t do it,” he said, as if reading my mind. “I’ll shoot.”

  The sound of footsteps thumped outside. I hauled myself over the ledge, ready to drop to the ground below. “I’m listening to you, so if you shoot my friend after this, you’re dead.”

  “Let go, now.”

  I closed my eyes, preparing for the fall. But a split second before I let go, the door to the bathroom burst open and a whirl of wild hair, a tornado of Runts, and the screams of my best friend whipped into the room.

  “Operation Volcanic Toilet!” Meg screamed, not even bothering to look up. “Look out, folks!”

  Everything happened so quickly that neither I nor my attacker had time to react. Not before Meg tossed the package into the middle stall, a plunk signifying its landing in the toilet bowl.

  Time froze, and in that moment Meg looked up, her eyes first scanning me, halfway out the window, and then my captor, who had his gun aimed at her face. She blinked once.

  Then came the boom.

  The explosion sent a spray of water through the bathroom. I watched the man’s finger tighten on the trigger, and reacted amidst the chaos in the only way I knew how: I donkey-kicked his face.

  He collapsed to the floor, the gun clattering underneath one of the stalls, as the rest of the bomb detonated.

  True to Meg’s predictions, light flashed, smoke erupted from the middle stall, and I threw myself at the floor, collapsing in a pile of limbs. I coughed as a shower of water and singed toilet paper rained down on my body, now curled on the floor in the fetal position.

  The man rose, though all I could make out was a janitorial uniform stumbling through the haze in my direction. I couldn’t see Meg, but I could hear her screaming a streak of expletives that couldn’t be found in the dictionary.

  “Stop, you…you!” Clay’s voice filtered through the bathroom. “I don’t know if this is the ladies’ or the men’s room, but I’ll shoot. Get awa
y from my cousin, whoever you are.”

  I had no clue if Clay could actually see me. I wasn’t even entirely convinced he had a gun. For all I knew, he was bluffing. But I wouldn’t turn down a good bluff if it’d save my life.

  The attacker stopped when a metal click sounded somewhere on the far side of the stalls. I pressed my body under the sink, as far away from him as possible, scrambling for anything I could use as a weapon. My flailing hands came back with two options – a roll of toilet paper or a stack of hand towels.

  I threw both at him, the paper products fluttering harmlessly to the ground as the man shook his head at me. “Tomorrow,” he rumbled, backing towards the window. “If you don’t show up, the dog is dead.”

  With his final threat, the mystery man pulled himself through the window and launched his body from the ledge. I rushed over, just in time to hear the loud thunk of him hitting the van below. He rolled from the top of the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat, zooming away from the building.

  Clay joined me by the ledge just as the van reached the end of the block.

  “Do you have the gun?” I said. “Quick, see if you can shoot the tires.”

  “I was bluffing!” Clay’s eyes looked wide. “I don’t touch barbaric weapons like guns!”

  “But I do,” Meg lumbered to her feet. She rested her hand against the tampon dispenser for support, but it crashed to the ground when she leaned on it. “Flimsy thing,” she scoffed. “Anyway, I’ve got his gun. Let me shoot him. I’ll hit more than the tires, that’s for sure. That man really put a crick in my neck with his little stunt.”

  “He’s gone.” My shoulders slumped as the van turned away down the side street. “It’s too late.”

  “Too late?” Clay gave me a skeptical look. “I’d say his disappearance is a good thing. Saved your life, maybe.”

  “But he was our one chance at finding a real lead,” I said, staring wistfully out the window. “If we could just find out who he was working for…”

  “What makes you think he was working for someone?” Clay asked.

  “He told me.”

  “You getting all cozy with him up here while we were trying to defuse a bomb?” Meg stuck her lip out. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “No, I was stalling, hoping someone would come looking for me when I didn’t return.”

  “Well how were we supposed to know, chickie? You come in the bathroom and take a long time, make some loud noises like that, we ain’t gonna come knocking on the door.” Meg shook her head in disbelief. “That is just plain bad manners. A girl needs her privacy during moments like that.”

  “Next time, you’re welcome to knock at least. These were special circumstances. I wouldn’t have been doing my business while Clay was working on the bomb.”

  Meg nodded. “I understand. You didn’t want the pressure of time. I get it, girlfriend. Some things can’t be rushed.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “What else can you tell me about him?” Clay asked. “Tell me now, while it’s fresh in your mind, any little details that might be important. When we get back to Lizabeth’s, I can review the security footage from the cameras I set up earlier, and match up the data points.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You already had them rolling?”

  “I always have the ball rolling.” Clay crossed his arms, though his face turned uncertain. “Don’t expect anything though, Lace. If this guy is a professional – which he probably is, since you say he was hired to do a job – then he’s going to have stolen a car. And the maintenance uniform would also be “borrowed” from a supply closet. I’d even be willing to bet the gun isn’t registered to the correct name.”

  “Aw, shucks,” Meg said. “Don’t you hate when they throw a kink in the plan like that? Why was he here tonight, anyway?”

  “I don’t know why he was here, but I’m guessing it was for a similar reason as ours,” I said.

  “Dumping bombs in the toilet?” Meg looked amazed. “Well, if that ain’t a coincidence, then I don’t know what is – two bombs, two toilets, one day. Wowzers!”

  “No, I think he was scouting out the place,” I said. “He didn’t answer most of my questions. Didn’t say much at all, in fact. But he did confirm he was working for someone. And he did say that our showing up here tonight would make his job easier tomorrow.”

  “So he’s after Lizabeth?” Clay frowned. “Do you really think it might’ve been Janie or Amanda that hired this guy? I didn’t think they had it in ’em. But I suppose we could’ve overlooked something…”

  “What if it’s not them?” I shrugged. “Is there a way you could check? Emails, phone calls, that sort of thing?”

  Clay nodded. “I’ll dig into the girls’ accounts tonight. If they were interacting with a third party vendor like our friend here, I’ll know. I can check bank statements, payment information, all of the well known black markets, but I’m going to give you another warning. My gut tells me someone else is involved. Someone with a bigger reason than a donation or a second place finish.”

  “Could be more than one person,” I said. “I’d hate to rule anything out; our deadline is looming, and we’re running out of leads.”

  “Roger that,” Meg said. “Speaking of, why don’t you sit out tomorrow night, Lacey? You can watch from the van, with Clay. Do the computer thingies.”

  “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I won’t let one measly kidnapping attempt ruin this job.”

  “I ain’t worried about you. I’m worried about myself.” Meg looked sheepish. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but Anthony threatened me with unspeakable things if I didn’t bring you back in one piece.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah.” Meg’s eyes widened. “I was looking forward to spending some quality time with Clay in that van tomorrow night, playing with the audio and visual doohickeys, but I’d rather not infuriate Anthony if I can help it. Might be best if you sit with your cousin and I take the front line.”

  “No dice.” I shook my head. “If they went after you, I’d just feel even worse.”

  “I don’t want dice,” Meg said. “I don’t really gamble. Except for Thursdays, Saturdays, and Wednesday mornings.”

  I paused, briefly wondering what it was about Wednesday mornings that pushed Meg to become a bettin’ woman.

  “This is my gig, I signed us up for it, and I’m taking full responsibility for it.” I glanced around the disheveled restroom, sighing with relief when I realized the damage wasn’t as bad as it looked.

  Really, the mess was mostly shredded toilet paper, towels, and the now-missing metal compartment from the wall. The only thing that really needed fixing was the window, and maybe the toilet. Give the mirrors a few good squirts of Windex, and we’d be golden.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Meg.” Clay pursed his lips. “It might be best if you stay behind the scenes. You’re still involved, just not so out there.”

  “Did Anthony threaten you, too?” I gave Clay my best don’t-lie-to-me glare. At his lack of response, I sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes. Well, there’s one other reason I can’t disappear tomorrow. The man said that if I didn’t show up, the dog would get it.”

  “Not Poopsie!” Meg sucked in a breath.

  I gave a solemn nod. “And if something happened to her, that would defeat our entire purpose for being out here, this whole job. I’m not running away, and I’m not letting anyone get hurt. All this means is that we have to step up our security.”

  “I’m on board with that,” Meg said. “Long as it means more bombs.”

  A silence fell over the room.

  Eventually, it was broken by the appearance of a familiar face. “I knew parking could be tricky in Hollywood…but I didn’t think I was gone for that long,” Mack said, strolling through the doorway. “And of all places to host a party, why here?”

  I looked at the restroom in disarray, a weak smile on my face, waving towards the shre
dded paper towels. “Easy confetti.”

  Mack leaned against the doorway. “Dare I ask?”

  “Tell him,” Meg said. “Tell him how it is, Lacey.”

  “I’ll tell you in the car.” I tapped my toe against a pile of TP confetti. “Mack, do you happen to know a cleaning crew I can call to send over here? I don’t think too much is broken, but it does need a good scrubbing.”

  He gave a quick nod, pulling out his phone, his fingers rapidly texting away. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Yo, Lace,” Meg said, in that wheedling tone of voice when she wanted something. “Remember how you asked if I could use bombs to help instead of hurt us?”

  Seeing where this was going, I bit my lip. “Yes.”

  Meg broke into a grin. “Well, that one helped you, didn’t it?” She reached over, poking me in the shoulder. “Go on, say it.”

  “Say what?” I wiped a fleck of paper product from my face.

  “Tell me I’m the Bomb-dot-com.”

  “I’m not saying it, that was just lucky.” I looked at the middle stall. “Not to mention, if it weren’t for you leaving the bomb in the Runts in the first place, we wouldn’t even be here.”

  “Come on, Lacey…just say it.” Meg gave me another poke. “Without me here, you’d be gonzo. Kidnapped. Worse.”

  “Fine,” I said with a small smile. “You’re the Bomb-dot-com.”

  “Darn right I am.” Meg grinned. “I’m explosive.”

  “Whoa, relax there, cowboy,” I said. “I’m still not convinced it was anything but a fortunate accident.”

  “Does it matter?” Meg marched around the room, proudly sticking her chest out. “I really like saving your life. I think that means a promotion.”

  “I’ll raise your CVS makeup budget to a hundred bucks.”

  “Deal,” Meg said. “And when you buy me business cards, can you put Meg, the Bomb-dot-com as my tagline?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Shucks.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, tossing an arm over her shoulder. “Just because I like you.”

  However, for the first time, a flutter of doubt rose in my stomach. What the heck was I doing, trying to play in the big leagues? I didn’t know the first thing about working security details. I was a failed stripper turned mobsterista. I didn’t belong in Hollywood among the fancy people. I didn’t belong in the same league as Anthony, a man who could make problems disappear so thoroughly, it was like they’d never existed in the first place.