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

by Gina LaManna

  “I don’t have to, but I want to.” Anthony grinned. “Mack, do I lie?”

  “He’s the most honest person I know.” Mack nodded, his eyes dancing with laughter. “I’ve only known him for a day, but already he’s threatened me, punched me, and become my friend. It’s been a rollercoaster of a relationship.”

  “Watch it with the relationship talk, buddy. You’re moving pretty fast,” Anthony growled, though his eyes gleamed, too. “We’re just friends.”

  That got me smiling. “Well, we already made a promise to each other,” I said. “We’re only working together from now on. So this is teamwork now. And I agree with you. Let’s talk to Carlos. Let’s bring these two back to Lizabeth’s place. And then let’s figure out what to do next, together.”

  “I like the sound of that, partner,” Anthony said. “Shall we?”

  “Do you want me to come with you in the van, or drive the Audi back?” Mack asked.

  Anthony looked to me for an answer.

  “Do you mind driving the Audi?” I said after a brief hesitation. “I’ll drive the van, since I don’t really ‘do’ guns, and Anthony can ride with me and babysit these two. Mack, you can go ahead and let Lizabeth know we’re coming, and get anything else ready. Does that sound like a plan?”

  “As you say, boss.” Mack nodded.

  Anthony walked around the van, opening the driver’s side door. “Your chariot awaits, sugar.”

  Mack winked. “You know, some couples do a horse-drawn carriage for their sexy dates. I have never seen a kidnapping van referred to as a carriage before, but I guess it’s sorta romantic. I dig it. Y’all are weird.”

  A few minutes later, I was situated in the driver’s seat, while Anthony sat in the passenger seat with a gun balanced on his lap. His eyes never strayed from the two men in the back of the car; Oleg and the driver sat propped up against the wall, arms bound behind them.

  “So?” I raised my eyebrows and looked into the rearview mirror as I pulled away from the side of the road. “How does it feel to switch places?”

  Oleg glared back.

  “They say you gotta walk a yard in someone’s…hang on a second.” I frowned at the driver, as Mack pulled the Audi out in front of me, racing off into the distance, the passenger door noticeably absent. “What’s the saying?”

  Anthony shrugged. “Don’t ask me. ESL.”

  “Walk a mile in my boots,” Oleg said.

  “That’s not it, either,” the driver grumbled. “Are none of you from America?”

  “I am, as a matter of fact,” I said. “But you can’t judge me, since I’m controlling the gun.”

  “You’re not holding the gun,” the driver said. “That’s just a fact.”

  “She’s as good as holding it.” Anthony’s fingers danced over the shiny metal. “Do you wanna test us? We’re a team. If I hold the gun, she holds the gun, capisci? If she says shoot, I shoot.”

  The driver looked at his toes in response. He might have muttered something along the lines of “wrapped around her little finger,” but for the sake of peace in the vehicle, everyone ignored him.

  “So, who knows how to get to Lizabeth’s?” I focused on the road ahead. I’d been following the debris from Mack’s rapidly disappearing Audi as my directions so far, but either all of the parts had fallen off already, or I’d gotten lost.

  “Take a right up ahead,” Anthony said. “And then a…”

  Something in the air changed, then. Anthony trailed off, but before I could ask what came after the right, his face hardened and his lips turned into a straight line. Something was wrong.

  “Anthony, what happened?” I looked over. “What comes after the right?”

  Instead of giving me directions, however, he lunged across my seat and twisted the wheel hard to the left.

  “What are you doing?” I said. “I know we said we’d be a team, but this is crazy. You can just drive by yourself if you want, I don’t need to contribute to everything.”

  “Gas,” Anthony said. “Give it gas. Now.”

  Though it went against every electrode in my body, I scrounged up my last bit of courage and put my trust in Anthony’s instructions. Pressing my foot to the floor, the car leapt forward, the pedal hitting the metal with a clank.

  “Anthony, what are you thinking?” I asked, once I managed to catch my breath, the van twisting wildly out of control. “Watch out…watch out for…for – Oleg!”

  Anthony leaned over my lap, whipping the van from one side of the road to the other in a loopy sort of zig-zag down the street. Meanwhile, Oleg took advantage of the distraction to inch his way up towards the front of the van. I tried to swing out at him, but Anthony was in the way, and I only managed a feeble poke to Oleg’s forehead.

  “Look out!” I shouted again.

  But Anthony didn’t react in time. Oleg plunged his head downward, his arms still tied behind his back. And he bit Anthony on the arm.

  Anthony didn’t make a single noise in pain, though by the time I managed to get Oleg’s teeth loose from Anthony’s arm – a feat harder than loosening lockjaw on a turtle – angry red marks stood out in a perfect dental sample from Oleg’s mouth.

  Anthony turned, his eyes wide. “Did you just bite me?”

  Oleg cowered in the back of the van, scooting as close as he could to the doors, tucking his body behind the driver. “No.”

  “You bit me.” Anthony looked more awestruck than injured. “What the hell, man?”

  “Do you need a rabies shot?” I asked, chancing a glance at his arm. A little bit of blood dotted his skin, making me woozy. “I don’t know if I can drive under these conditions, what with the blood, and all.”

  My words startled Anthony from his shocked daze. The daze resulting from a grown man taking a bite out of his arm. “Drive, Lacey,” Anthony said. “Anywhere. Get out of here.”

  Pushing away the lightheaded feeling swirling around the edges of my consciousness, I pressed my foot to the accelerator, expecting to shoot off the road.

  Except there was one little problem. We didn’t get very far.

  Because at the same time the engine revved, four distinct shots rang out, followed closely by a hissing coming from underneath the van. Someone had shot out our tires.

  “Stay here,” Anthony said, “and hold this.”

  I barely managed to grasp the pepper spray – which he’d pulled from where, I have no idea – as he thrust it into my hand. I faced the backseat, holding the canister in front of me like a hairstylist on a mission: Tame-All-the-Flyaways. “Don’t move.”

  “What’s happening?” Oleg tried to peer out the window.

  “Do you two have anything to do with this?” I raised an eyebrow.

  Oleg and the driver glanced at one another. Eventually the driver shrugged. “I was just paid to drive this guy around for one measly trip. This is way above my pay grade, and if he thinks I’m ever working for him again, he’s an idiot. I just want to go home and sit in my new hot tub.”

  “That sounds nice.” I didn’t know if it sounded nice or not; I was too busy pushing away the fear bubbling in my stomach over Anthony’s safety. Someone had shot out our tires. Which meant a man – or a woman – was out there now, watching, waiting…ready to shoot. I ignored my pounding heart, and focused on getting some answers. “Oleg? Is this one of your men out there?”

  “I don’t know what’s happening, or what you all are doing.” Oleg’s eyes widened. “I just want to go away. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’m not sure what sort of sick game you all are playing.”

  “Game? A game?” My voice turned shrill. “You kidnapped me, and now somebody is shooting at our van, and you think it’s a game? Shut up, Oleg, I’m starting to really not like you. Which is a shame, because my cousin is best friends with your brother. Why’d you call him the other day, by the way? Why can’t you just leave Horatio out of everything?”

  “I just asked if he was hanging out with his friends lately,” Oleg said, his
eyes downcast. “Horatio only has one friend. So when Horatio told me that his friend was on vacation, I knew your cousin was out here, too.”

  “How nice of you to check up on Clay.”

  “You’re getting all angry at me over nothing.” Oleg frowned, then he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Just stop for a minute, Lacey, and think about it.”

  “I am thinking, and I’m thinking you’re nuts. I’m also thinking that I haven’t eaten since before this dress was put over my head, so I don’t have a whole lot of extra calories to waste, thinking about your stupid tricks.”

  “It’s not a stupid trick. I’m serious. Who knows we’re out here?” Oleg raised his eyebrows. “Huh? Think about that, Lacey. It might be worth those precious calories you’re holding onto. Because none of my men know I was even kidnapped, let alone that you’ve taken us down a different exit route. If I had any snipers lined up – which I didn’t – they wouldn’t be waiting for us here, that’s for sure. There wasn’t time for a change in plans. This is someone, or something, else.”

  I hesitated. Even I didn’t know where we’d ended up. If I was good at one thing, it wasn’t driving – it was getting lost. And I’d gotten us so lost I couldn’t tell you which way was west, and there was a huge, honkin’ ocean that should help guide us west. Maybe Oleg was right, he couldn’t have planned the massacre of our tires.

  And even if there was a tiny possibility he’d planned it, I couldn’t believe he was behind it. He’d looked just as surprised as me when the gunshots went off and our van tires deflated, and he wasn’t that good an actor, even if we were in Hollywood.

  “Think, Lace,” Oleg barked. “Where’s your little friend? The one who drove separately?”

  “Mack?” I shook my head. “No. He couldn’t have!”

  Oleg tilted his head sideways. “How well do you know him?”

  I swallowed. He couldn’t have…could he? Mack and Anthony were friends. But nobody else knew where we’d gone, nobody had been following us – at least, not that we’d noticed – and even if Anthony still had a radio in his ear, we were too far out of range for it to transmit back to Clay’s van.

  So…why? What could Mack possibly be after, if it was him? Why would he go through all that effort to help us, and then turn around and shoot at us?

  “He knew the plans, knew the inside scoop, he got you to trust him…” Oleg shook his head. “I have to admit, he’s good. I thought he was pretty chummy with you two. But I know when to admit I’m wrong. Sometimes the simplest answer is the right one, and it makes sense to me.”

  “No, it can’t be…” I paused, looking out the window, watching the top of Anthony’s head as he straightened up from a crouched position, opening the passenger side door to the van. But just as he turned to look at me, I saw it.

  The little red light, hovering above his collarbone.

  “Anthony, duck!”I screamed.

  For the second time today, I was too late.

  Anthony crumpled to the ground, accompanied by the hollow sound of a gunshot echoing across the hills.

  I screamed again. Words, phrases…nothing made sense.

  Blood pounded in my ears.

  Blackness seeped into the edges of my consciousness as I lunged for the van door.

  I half-fell, half-dragged myself around the car, a small part of my soul collapsing inside, the ache worse than if I’d been the one shot.

  As I stumbled around the front of the van, I found Anthony lying on the ground. Not moving.

  And I wished that the bullet had hit me instead.

  CHAPTER 30

  “Anthony, wake up!” I fell to my knees next to his body, my face dropping an inch from his, my fingers finding his shoulders, clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly between my fingers as I gave him a light shake. “Please, wake up.”

  “I’m not sleeping.” Anthony opened his eyes, a grimace that bordered on a pained smile twisting his lips upward. A wave of relief crashed over me.

  “You’re okay!” I clutched him to my chest, peppering his cheeks with kisses.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Anthony said. “Shoulder hurts a bit. Feels like a clean entry and exit. Can you check?”

  I looked down, instantly feeling nauseous at the sight of blood all down the front of my beautiful gown, the Christmas red now obscured by ugly, darker patches. “Anthony, you’re bleeding.”

  “I’ve noticed. You’re a step behind.” Anthony tried to smile, but this time he couldn’t even make it into a grimace. “My shoulder, please…”

  I don’t know where I summoned the courage to dig closer to the wound, but something in my subconscious kicked in and I ripped the fabric back, holding back a gag at the sight of the tiny hole that hadn’t been there moments before.

  “That bad, huh?” Anthony managed to raise an eyebrow before laying his head back on the ground. “You can go vomit now, but first call Clay. Get help.”

  “You really turn into a jokester when you’re injured,” I said, forcing my voice to remain light even though it wobbled like a leaf on a windy day. “Most people see their lives flash before their eyes when they get shot but you, mister, you turn into a stand-up comedian.”

  Anthony laughed, which quickly turned into a pained cough as he rolled his body closer onto my lap, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “I’ve already lost your sympathy? That didn’t take long.”

  My heart raced, every fiber in my body pinged with adrenaline, my muscles taut with worry, but I forced my hands to run through his hair without too much trembling. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “Call Clay,” Anthony murmured, his voice a bit softer.

  “I can’t fit a phone in this dress! It’s at home. I don’t have my phone.”

  “Phone in my pocket,” he grunted. “Mine.”

  I slid my fingers over his pants pockets, feeling him up in order to locate the mobile device.

  “Getting a bit handsy, are ya?” Anthony coughed again. “If you could grab a little lower and to the right, that’d be excellent.”

  “You have to get better before I do that,” I said. “Focus on hanging in there for now, and we’ll talk other business later.”

  Anthony nodded for me to lean in close. I dipped my head as I pressed Dial for Clay’s number, putting my ear to his lips.

  “Listen,” Anthony said. “Lacey…the man who shot me, he’s still out there. Call Clay and get out.”

  “But-”

  “You’d be shot already, if that’s what he wanted.” Anthony’s voice took on a frantic edge. “You need to get away from here. Tell Clay to grab this location from GPS and get out here, now. Send cops, paramedics, send his freaking best friend, I don’t care. Then you’re going to run, Lacey. Get lost in the hills.”

  “I’m not leaving you.” The phone rang on Clay’s end for a second time, but still no answer. I ran my free hand through Anthony’s hair, stroking it, trying my best to calm his contorted expression.

  Anthony closed his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Whoever’s out there doesn’t need me dead. Tell Clay and then run.”

  “No.” I shook my head. The phone rang a third time. Where was Clay? “I’ll never leave you, Anthony.”

  “Lacey, listen.” Anthony somehow garnered superhuman strength, despite his depleting blood supply, and pulled my head close. A metallic scent drifted up, and I could practically taste the blood on my tongue as he whispered in my ear. “I have to tell you something. But first, promise me you’ll run.”

  “What, Anthony? Tell me.”

  “Promise you’ll run after I tell you.”

  I swallowed. “I promise.”

  Anthony opened his eyes. “I’ve been meaning to say it for a while, but I didn’t know what you’d say back. Lacey, I think I’m in lov—”

  “Hello? Anthony?” Clay shouted through the phone. “Where are you?”

  I sighed. Anthony closed his eyes again. I raised the phone to my ear, barely holding in an eye roll, despite the rather
dire circumstances. My cousin, with his perfect timing once again.

  “Clay, it’s Lacey…” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Anthony’s shot. You need to come get us. Send help, now. To this location. Look up the GPS on his phone. Our tires are ruined, we can’t go anywhere.”

  “Shot?” Clay murmured. “Anthony? Bullet? Alive?”

  “Stop saying random words and do something, for Pete’s sake.” My voice came out in a shrill whisper. “Now! Yes, with a bullet, and yes he’s alive. But hurry!”

  “GPS. Anthony…” Clay trailed off. “Pete. Cake.”

  “Not cake, Pete’s sake. Clay, call someone!” I snapped. “Do you want to save his life? Do something. Anything!”

  Finally, my cousin seemed to jolt to attention. “Who shot him?”

  “We don’t know. Someone from a distance.” I resisted the urge to ask my next question, but I eventually caved. “Have you heard from Mack?”

  “No, I’ll call him now,” Clay said. “He’ll be closest, since—”

  “No!” I interrupted. “Send help, just in the form of not Mack.”

  “You don’t…you can’t possibly think he’s responsible?”

  I looked at Anthony, his eyes closed, his face pinched in pain. “I’m not sure who is responsible, but I need someone here I can trust. Anthony is hurt. Bad.”

  “It’s not Mack,” Anthony mumbled, but his words tumbled out so softly I worried he was losing consciousness. His next words came out so tiny, so sweet and vulnerable, I had to lean in to hear. “Mack is my friend.”

  Well, if my heart wasn’t completely melted, then I didn’t have a soul.

  “Hurry, Clay!” I said, trying to keep Anthony from going into full-on dreamland. “I’ve gotta go.”

  I set the phone on Anthony’s chest, and ran my hands through his dark locks, taking the moment to study the small tattoo peeking out from his torn black shirt, just above his collarbone. The dark skin on his face, now a shade lighter, contrasted heavily with his dark eyebrows and paling lips. When he opened his eyes, the normal glittering blackness was muted, a slate gray.

  “Take my gun, run…” Anthony closed his eyes just as fast as they’d opened. “I’ll be fine. Help will be here soon.”