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

by Gina LaManna

  “Yeah okay, Mother,” he said. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”

  “Where are we headed?” I looked out the window to where we were climbing a narrow, winding road. I hadn’t been here before, but judging by the landscape, I guessed we were somewhere in the Hollywood Hills.

  “Not your problem.” Oleg faced forward. “Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

  “Uh, boss?” The driver glanced in the rearview mirror. “We’ve got someone joining us for the ride.”

  “What am I paying you for?” Oleg shot up in his seat. “Lose them!”

  I glanced back, my adrenaline beginning to pump. Through the tiniest sliver of window visible from my place of honor on the floor, I could just now see an Audi careening close to our tail end. It had to be Mack! And I prayed Anthony was with him.

  “It’s no use trying to get away,” I said. “They’ll catch you.”

  Oleg reached into his jacket, pulling out a shiny metal object. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but I’m not afraid to shoot.”

  “Oleg! You said nobody would get hurt!”

  “If people would just leave me the heck alone, they wouldn’t need to get hurt,” Oleg said, his voice rising to hysterical levels. He pointed the gun out the window. I sensed a twitchiness in his arms, a paranoia in his eyes that made me nervous. “I just want to be left alone!”

  However, before Oleg could fire, gunshots rang out in the night air. Whoever was behind us fired first, and one of the bullets pinged through the metal in the back door, somewhere near the roof of the van.

  I threw myself to the ground as Oleg’s driver cranked the wheel to the right. Sliding helplessly against one wall, I lunged towards Oleg, but the driver took us around another curve before I could pull my body up towards the front seat. I landed hard against the rear doors of the van, thankful that whoever was in the car behind us had stopped shooting.

  Again, I focused on working my way up to the front of the car, hoping that if I could get my hands on Oleg’s gun the two men would have to listen. Or maybe I could distract the driver until Anthony or Mack could shoot out the tires. But he was driving so erratically that I couldn’t get my footing, and I imagined Anthony or Mack would be having a heck of a time hitting the wheels now, as they veered every which way.

  I inched closer, my body sprawled against the ground, army crawling my way towards the front of the van. Just as I was close enough to reach out and grasp Oleg’s greasy hair, he whipped around, bringing his gun from outside the window and pointing it at my face.

  “Get back,” he growled. “Now, else I’ll shoot.”

  I let go of my death grip on the floor, my body sliding back towards the rear of the van as we ascended another hill. The garbage bags under my stomach rustled, and I felt like a mop sliding across the floor.

  Then, just as I reached the back of the van, another shot rang out from behind us. And this one hit something. Something important, judging by the racket it caused, and the sideways motion of the van.

  Oleg turned to face the driver, speaking rapidly in a language I assumed was Russian. I didn’t have time to confirm my theory, however, because the Audi pulled up to the left of the van, Mack in the driver’s seat, and Anthony in the passenger seat. Anthony was closer to us; he sat just feet from Oleg’s driver as the two vehicles raced neck and neck up the twisted road.

  I hauled myself to my knees for a better view of the window. His gaze fell on me as I popped my head up for one brief second. He took that second to give me a warning, gesturing for me to duck down.

  But what got me most were the grins on their faces; those…those clowns were enjoying the chase! While I sat here, all huddled up, my mind racing to dark places. Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful for their help. I just didn’t like how happy they were about it.

  Anthony gestured once more for me to get down, as the Audi started to pull ahead of the van. I dove to the ground, trying to figure out their plan in advance. But seeing how my mind didn’t quite work like theirs, I would just have to wait and see, and pray it was successful.

  I felt, rather than saw, when Mack and Anthony made their move.

  Oleg broke into a full-on panic, shouting at the driver, reaching over and grabbing the wheel himself. The van rammed into the Audi, the earsplitting screech of metal on metal making me cringe.

  I ducked my head, unable to watch, hoping and praying that Mack and Anthony knew what they were doing. Because Oleg was a man on a mission. A man on a mission with nothing to lose, which was a dangerous combination.

  CHAPTER 29

  The battle raged on for the next few twists and turns of the hilly road. By the time I pulled myself to my knees once again, the Audi was in front of the van. Where were they going? I wanted to wave my hands and say, Hey, don’t forget about me! But I held back, trying my hardest to trust in their plan. Assuming they had one.

  And then, they put their plan into action.

  “Stop!” Oleg yelled to his driver, but it was too late for the driver to do anything resembling stop.

  Out in front of the van, Anthony flung the passenger door open, while Mack slammed on the brakes. The van hurtled right past the slowing Audi, ripping the passenger door from its hinges. Then, a roar of acceleration from Mack, and the Audi pulled back in front. In the next two seconds, I watched my boyfriend hang out the door of a speeding car, a gun in his hand. Talk about surreal. I mean, I suppose it was sweet and all, but at the rate things were going, I wouldn’t be around to thank him. I’d be too busy having a heart attack.

  But I also couldn’t tear my gaze away from the vehicle out front, and in the next second, Anthony shouted. Mack, meanwhile, held their speed steady, despite an oncoming curve in the road.

  And with a flash of clarity, I knew exactly what Anthony intended to do, even before he made a move. Call it my Sugary Senses, call it a girl’s intuition, call it what you want – that man was going to leap from the Audi onto the van’s windshield, I could feel it in my bones.

  Out of the corner of my eye, a movement within the van caught my attention. I let out a guttural cry at the sight of Oleg raising a gun and pointing it at Anthony. Without thinking, I simply reacted, lunging across the back of the van, my arms outstretched, with fingers grasping thin air.

  I startled Oleg, his finger twitching, the gun firing as I leapt across the van. Thankfully, my movement alone was enough to ruin Oleg’s aim. The bullet shattered the windshield, but left everyone’s body bullet-hole free. I reached Oleg just as Anthony prepared to make the leap, his muscles flexed, his body wound tight as a spring.

  With the element of surprise on my side, I tried to wrestle the gun from Oleg’s hands. It didn’t work; the gun just clattered to the floor. At least it was no longer pointed at Anthony’s face.

  But that didn’t stop me from pretending. “Slow down,” I yelled at the driver, “else I’ll shoot you.”

  I didn’t have the gun, but my empty threat worked. And Anthony took advantage of the hesitation to make the leap. His body skidded across the front of the car, but he managed to latch on somehow, holding onto the windshield for dear life. The windshield, already punctured by a bullet, shattered even more. Anthony had thought ahead, wrapping a jacket or blanket around his arms, which helped him hold on despite the jagged glass.

  Then, Anthony pointed the gun in the driver’s face. Though I could hardly hear his scream of Stop! the message was clear. The driver of the van thought so, too. Either that, or he didn’t like the idea of toting around a grumpy Anthony with a weapon aimed at him. The driver applied the brakes, slowing the vehicle until it crawled to a stop on the empty road, high, high in the hills.

  By the time the driver put the vehicle in Park, he had raised his hands above his head.

  I pulled myself forward, half hanging over the front seat as I snatched Oleg’s gun from the floor. The Russian stared with a mute expression out the window, not bothering to resist as I “adopted” his one weapon.

  “Y
ou okay?” Anthony took heavy breaths, a bruise forming over his eye, a few cuts leaking blood onto his face and arms as he yanked open the passenger door, his gun trained on Oleg. Mack took over the other side of the car, his eyes trained on the driver.

  “I’m okay.” I nodded, Oleg’s gun dangling limply from my hand in the back of the van. “But I’m going to be honest…I don’t know how to use this thing.”

  Mack laughed. “Your honesty is charming.”

  I raised a hand. “Um, could someone please let me out of here? The doors are locked.”

  Anthony nodded at Mack, who walked around the back of the van and shot the lock off the door, extending a hand to help me down.

  “You probably didn’t need to shoot the lock off the door,” I said. “I’m sure there’s a key.”

  “Yeah, but it’s more fun.” Mack grinned. “Anyway, your boyfriend would’ve made one hell of a stuntman. I’m trying to convince him to take up the movie biz as a secondary source of income.”

  “He’s busy enough as it is,” I grumbled. I tried not to let the wobble in my legs show as my feet hit firm ground.

  While Mack rescued me from the back, Anthony instructed Oleg and the driver to get out of the van, then secured their hands behind their backs. “Lacey, you all right?”

  “Did you pull that rope out of thin air?” I tried for a joke, mostly to cover my shaking knees. My voice cracked only a little bit. Anthony still didn’t stop watching my face, his gaze scrutinizing my every feature. “I’m fine. Really.”

  He didn’t look convinced, but he turned back and finished tying knots with the rope. When he was satisfied, he situated the pair of kidnappers face-first against the side panel of the van.

  “Go give her a hug.” Mack nudged Anthony with his elbow, pointing his gun at the backs of the kidnappers. “Go on, now.”

  With one last look at the kidnappers, then at Mack, who had the situation under control, Anthony dropped his arms, took a few steps sideways, and swooped me into a hug. The embrace was crushing, but I loved it anyway. A hiccup-sort-of-gulp slipped from my throat, and I let my head fall against his torn dress shirt. My hands snuck up around his neck, my fingers weaving through his hair, grasping tight and never wanting to let go.

  “It’s okay, Lacey,” Anthony’s voice was a soft caress against my skin. “Please, let go of my hair. You’re squeezing so hard you’ll make me bald. I don’t do bald, sugar.”

  I choked out a laugh, letting my fingers slide down from his hair, but not taking them off his body. I toyed with his collar, brushed his shoulder, wiped a smear of blood from his chin. “Thank you for coming to get me,” I said. “Really…” I sighed. “Thank you.”

  Anthony’s hand clasped the back of my head to his chest, stroking my hair. “It’s over. It’s all over.”

  “Lizabeth?” I managed to mumble.

  “She’s safe. We took her, Nora, and everyone else straight to the van. We just barely caught up to you, but thanks to Mack knowing this area like the back of his hand, we managed. It’s him you should thank.”

  “But he did the jumping from one car to the next.” Mack’s eyes crinkled in a smile, though his gaze didn’t waver from the backs of the Russians’ heads. “Like I said, stunt man in the making.”

  I shook my head. “You guys make for a set of strange friends,” I said. “I’m not sure I like it. Too dangerous.”

  “Now you know how I feel about you and Meg.” Anthony pressed his lips to the top of my head. “I’m scared stiff every time you girls so much as go out for a drink.”

  I laughed. “I suppose that’s fair.”

  “We can’t stay here all day.” Anthony gestured to the dark road. “But before we figure out how to proceed, I need to understand a few missing pieces of the puzzle. I have the general idea down, but a few things aren’t connecting. Let’s start with Oleg and Lizabeth. Start talking, folks.”

  I explained to him, starting from the beginning, and how Oleg had tried to nab me from the Haunted House, but hadn’t succeeded. How he’d overheard Lizabeth’s job offer, and then subsequently made sure she needed extra protection. Once Lizabeth had hired us, Oleg’s plan had gone into motion. And how he wanted to exchange me for money and invisibility, both from Carlos and The Fish.

  “What if Lizabeth didn’t hire you?” Anthony asked. “No offense, but she could’ve hired anyone else.”

  I shrugged. “Good question.”

  “Thoughts?” Mack stepped close enough to Oleg that the Russian’s hair fluttered from Mack’s breath.

  “Then I would’ve tried something else,” Oleg muttered. “This was like, my tenth attempt to get Lacey. I was playing a numbers game; if I tried and failed with enough scenarios, one of my plans just might work. The Haunted House, the alley, the first car chase through Hollywood…I was getting warmer each time. It was just a matter of patience on my end.”

  Anthony strolled behind Oleg. To the casual observer, Anthony appeared relaxed and at ease. But I could see him wired tight as a drum – his shoulders rigid, his fists clenching and unclenching, the slow burn in his eyes that meant someone was in big, big, trouble.

  “What on earth made you think you’d get away with this?” Anthony’s voice dropped to a decibel so low, I strained to hear it. “Haven’t you figured out by now that Lacey is off-fucking-limits?”

  Oleg’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought—”

  “You weren’t thinking,” Anthony said. “Unless your brain doesn’t work very well. I somehow don’t think that’s the case. Because you know she’s the granddaughter of Carlos, and you know what Carlos thinks of you messing with his family. And that’s just for starters.”

  Oleg twitched.

  “But whatever Carlos would do to you is nothing…nothing compared to what I’d do if you’d hurt her. Do you understand me?” Anthony raised a hand, rested it on Oleg’s shoulder, and began to squeeze. He squeezed and he squeezed, and he didn’t stop squeezin’. “Do you understand me?”

  Oleg’s face flashed with pain.

  “I’m not hearing an answer.” Anthony’s knuckles turned white.

  “Yes,” gasped Oleg. “Yes.”

  “She’s my girlfriend.” Anthony let go, his fingers resting lightly on Oleg’s back. “Let’s make sure everyone knows it.”

  Oleg gave a shaky nod.

  “Good.” Anthony patted him on the back. “I’m glad we could come to a friendly agreement.”

  I stepped forward, resting a hand on Anthony’s forearm. “Come here, Anthony.”

  I took his hand and led him away before he did something to Oleg he might regret. I looked into his eyes, waiting, holding his gaze until some of the fire burned off, and the glittering black of Anthony’s “business gaze” returned. Better the calm, collected, unfeeling Anthony in a situation like this, than the emotional, unpredictable version. I’d never seen the anger take over him so thoroughly, and as much as I appreciated his protective side, Anthony’s mood was flirting with the edge of danger.

  Anthony put his hands on either side of my face, his kiss taking me by surprise. It was hard, rougher than usual. I’d never seen Anthony lose control before, and though he hadn’t quite lost it this time, I sensed he’d been close. When he pulled away, the last of the wildfire had faded from his eyes, and he offered me a small smile.

  “I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have…” He shrugged, gesturing helplessly at Oleg. “I couldn’t help it. People make me crazy.”

  I waited. I held his hand. I didn’t have anything to say at the moment, but with each passing second, I could sense the anger seeping from his fingers to mine, where it evaporated with the night breeze.

  Eventually, he spoke. “I’m lucky to have you here…you calm me down.”

  “Arguably, neither of us would be here if I hadn’t gotten myself kidnapped.” I ran a hand through Anthony’s ruffled hair, returning the hint of a smile lingering on his lips. “So, what’s next?”

  Anthony’s eyes
flashed a grateful glimmer at the change of subject. “These two clowns won’t be going anywhere. Let’s take them back to Lizabeth’s for now, if that’s all right.”

  Anthony looked to Mack, who nodded and grinned. “Lizabeth has a special place beneath the garage for special visitors like Oleg.”

  “Really?” I asked. “She seems so sweet and, I dunno, polite. So…unlike Carlos in that sense.”

  Mack shrugged. “I don’t think she’s ever used it before. But she has a lot of money – all money that she earned herself. And she didn’t get a lot of money by being stupid. She’s prepared for the worst case scenario, I’ll tell you that.”

  Anthony nodded. “I’d like to get in touch with Carlos and…” He stopped talking, swinging his gaze around to me. A confused expression crossed his face. “Oh, my God. Lacey…I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” It was my turn to look perplexed.

  “This is your job. Not mine.” Anthony slid his arm around my back, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “What would you like to do, boss?”

  The heat in my stomach had nothing to do with the closeness of Anthony’s body to my own. “You’d actually listen to me?” I raised one eyebrow. “But you’re better at this, uh, kidnapping stuff than I am.”

  Mack laughed. “Based on the stories I’ve heard, you’re quickly catching up from personal experience, Lacey.”

  Anthony curled me into him, holding my shoulders and situating us chest to chest, eye to eye, and nose to nose. “Why shouldn’t I listen to you?”

  I looked down. “I dunno.”

  “Look at me.” Anthony’s cheek quirked up in a smile, though his eyes radiated kindness. “You’re smart. You’re capable – yes, in strange ways sometimes. However, you are the person who secured this job, all by your lonesome. Have confidence in yourself.”

  I looked over Anthony’s shoulder, then at his forehead, and finally at my feet before I eventually met his gaze. “You don’t have to say those nice things.”