by Gina LaManna
“No, sir,” Anthony said. “Your wife was just a bit...startled.”
“Thank you,” Carlos said with an appreciative nod. “My back has been giving me problems, and I can’t sweep Nora off her feet like I used to.”
“Carlos, look!” Nora interrupted. “Did you see baby Sprout?!”
Carlos gave me the strangest glance. “You didn’t name your poor kid Sprout, did you?”
“No,” I said with a smile. “Her name...”
I paused as Nora shrieked at the gender reveal.
“It’s a her, oh, jiminy crickets. A girl. It’s a girl! Carlos, it’s a girl!” Nora shrilled, positively overcome with excitement. “When can I hold her? What’s her name? And Lacey Luzzi, why didn’t you have your poor child in the hospital?”
“It’s not like I could time her birth,” I said. “Clay locked us into the building while I was hunting down my wedding ring, and it was this whole big incident.”
“Our daughter did take down a bank robber,” Anthony said, nodding toward Fidge who was pinned against the door in handcuffs. “He took one look at her and bam. Out like a light.”
Carlos raised his eyebrows, a hint of pride creeping in his gaze. He stepped closer to the stretcher, watching as I tilted the baby’s face so he could see her better.
“Yep,” Carlos confirmed with a shy sort of smile. “She’s a Luzzi, alright.”
“Bella Rose Luzzi,” I said, having taken a piece of my mother’s name, my grandmother’s name, and Anthony’s mother’s name, and sewed them together to form a beautiful new one. “I think it fits, don’t you?”
Nora’s eyes welled with tears again. “My middle name. Your mother’s, too.” Her lip trembled. “Oh, Lacey. Thank you. Thank you for keeping pieces of us with you and your family.”
I raised a hand and swiped at eyes I didn’t know had teared up. “Stop making me cry in front of all these people,” I said through a watery grin. “It’s embarrassing.”
“They’ve already seen a lot more of you than your tears,” Meg said, approaching from behind. “In fact, I reckon they’ve seen more of you than Anthony here, and the two of y’all are married. You’ve nothing left to be modest about. Oh, hello, Carlos.”
Carlos spun on his heel and stomped away.
At the other end of the hall, Carlos paused and turned around. “Nora,” he called, “give them space. You can smother them after the hospital.”
Nora tapped Anthony’s chest. “I hate to leave, plus it’s so warm and cozy up here, but...I think Carlos is right. You have so much to deal with. New parents, a crime scene, oh...you two will be such wonderful parents.”
Anthony set Nora down, waiting for her to test her legs and ensure stability before letting go. My grandmother sauntered over with timid steps, her eyes peeking slowly, cautiously over the edge of the bundle as if the moment she truly laid eyes on Bella, the baby would disappear in a whiff of smoke.
“Isn’t she perfect?” I held her up for Nora to see bright cheeks and fragile little eyelids. “I think she might have your smile.”
“Don’t be silly.” A sob wracked Nora’s shoulders. “One-day old babies can’t smile.”
“I can feel it,” I said. “A mother’s intuition.”
To my surprise, Nora tore her eyes from the great-grandchild she’d wanted forever and fixed me with the softest of stares. “I’m so, so proud of you, honey. Your mom is too. I know she is, I’m absolutely positive: call it a mother’s intuition.”
I swallowed, feeling a row of tears lining up behind my eyes and preparing for a march down my cheeks. “You are the best nonna a girl could ask for.”
Nora leaned in, kissed me on the forehead, and then gently backed away. I sensed there was more she wanted to say, but the moment was too overwhelming, and I understood. Her silence contained everything I needed to hear, to see, to feel.
When she squeezed my hand, the tears fell. They rained and rained down my cheeks, and I could only stop once a droplet landed on Bella’s forehead. Poor Anthony stood by looking helpless. So helpless that Meg reached out and grabbed his hand, and he didn’t move, let alone complain.
“We’ll meet you at the hospital,” Nora said once we’d both managed to dry our eyes. “Now that I’ve seen baby Bella, nobody’s peeling me away from her side.”
After Nora left, the paramedics began the process of carting me and my baby away, along with Anthony, to the hospital. Before we left, I made sure to watch as the police put handcuffs on Betty, Sandra, and Blondie—the woman whose name turned out to be Marge. She didn’t look like a Marge.
I had mixed feelings as the paramedics loaded Bella and I onto a stretcher and began wheeling us out. I understood that robbing banks was wrong, but after all Sandra and Betty had done for me—ensured the safe birth of my daughter—I felt a twinge of sadness they’d be sent away to do time.
“I-I’m really sorry about this,” I said, holding up a hand to the paramedic pushing the stretcher. I gestured for him to give me a moment with the two women. “I’m really sorry that my baby prevented you from your getaway plan. That sounds bizarre, doesn’t it?”
Betty grinned. “We knew there was only one real way this would end. Plus, it’s not so bad—we didn’t carry real guns with us when we held up those branches. We didn’t hurt anyone. We have everything we took stored in a secure location. We had a good reason for why we did it. I don’t think it’ll let us off the hook, but we might get lucky with a sympathetic jury. Plus, there’s always reduced jail time for good behavior, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “I’ll—I’ll visit you. I’ll send cookies or buy cigarettes for you or whatever you need in prison.”
Ginger laughed. “Don’t worry so much, Lacey. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re okay, and your baby is safe and healthy. I’m satisfied that Fidge will be going away, and Rankle, too.”
She nodded to the cop who, blessedly, was also in handcuffs. The other police officers had been hesitant to cuff one of their own, but after Meg’s testimony, the combined stories of the Femme Fatale, and my corroboration to all of it, they had enough to book him.
Apparently, there had already been some suspicion around his involvement on the case, but nothing had ever been proven. With our testimony and my hints that the cops might find payments to an offshore account in his name with a little digging, they had enough to get started.
“You idiot,” Rankle said as they pulled him away. “You don’t know what you walked into, Luzzi.”
Anthony’s head jerked up at the cop’s voice. Rankle had shot the retort at me, and he didn’t seem to care that Anthony had heard.
I pulled Bella closer to my chest, a chill shivering down my spine.
“Hey,” Anthony said, his voice so soft I could barely hear it as he approached Rankle. He didn’t seem to care that the cops could hear every word he said. “I think you’ll want to apologize to my wife.”
“I’m sorry you’re stuck with her,” Rankle said. “Then again, maybe all you Luzzis deserve one another. If she weren’t so nosy, and didn’t poke her fat ass where it didn’t belong, she could’ve had her baby in the hospital like a normal person.”
“She just had a baby, you meanie!” Meg shouted. “Lay off! She’s still skinnier than me, you jerkwad.”
I appreciated the colorful and creative ways in which my friends and husband had backed me up, but I still worried. I worried because Rankle had been a cop, and he most certainly had connections. It wasn’t just Anthony and I to worry about anymore—we had a baby girl, and I wouldn’t allow our actions to jeopardize her safety. Rankle still had a bone to pick with us, and egging him on would only make things worse.
“Anthony, it’s not worth it,” I pleaded. “Let him go. The cops will take care of it.”
“He was a cop,” Anthony snarled. “Sorry if I’m not in a trusting mood.”
“Well, he won’t be wearing a badge for much longer. Please, sweetheart.” I reached for him, but he stepped
further away and into Rankle’s space bubble.
“I will leave you alone because my wife asked me to,” Anthony murmured, his voice slipping into that dangerous, musical tone that said he meant business. “But if you think for a second that makes you safe, you’re wrong.”
Rankle’s face paled. Now that Anthony was up close and personal, Rankle seemed to realize his misstep. Bad choice to offend a Papa Bear Luzzi—even he had to know that.
“Bars can’t protect you,” Anthony said. “Neither can distance. So, I encourage you to apologize now before I...” He cleared his throat, glanced at the cops surrounding us. “I’ll leave it at that.”
“S-sorry, Luzzi,” Rankle said, his face red with rage. Spittle flew from his lips, and he snapped at the cops to take him away. “This isn’t over.”
The cops obliged, willingly taking away Rankle. In fact, they seemed quite pleased with Anthony’s threats.
“Thank you,” I murmured, as Anthony returned to my side. “He’s just not worth it.”
“I know, but I can’t stand it. I can’t stand people like him.” Anthony shook his head, turned to face the three women also in cuffs. “Especially when you three are headed to the same place he is—it doesn’t seem fair.” He stepped closer, directly in front of Ginger—a.k.a. Sandra. “I can’t thank you enough for your help. Whatever you need during your time...” He cleared his throat. “On holiday, let me know.”
His voice lilted at the end, as if suggesting there were ways he could help that weren’t safe to say in front of the cops.
Ginger caught on, gave him a cheeky grin. “I appreciate that, truly, Mr. Luzzi. But I couldn’t live with myself if I risked your freedom for mine. Enjoy your baby girl, and your wife. We knew the consequences going in, and we’re prepared to serve our time.”
Betty nodded along in agreement. “And I take back what I said, Lacey—feel free to send a Christmas card. I guess my address won’t be as private as I thought. And no palm trees, but I guess I’ll deal with it.”
I grinned. “I promise.”
Fidge had already been treated for a bump to the head, and he was now sitting up against the wall, handcuffs around his wrists. He couldn’t make eye contact with me.
“I think it’s time for us to go,” I said to Anthony. “The hospital, and then home. I’m ready to be home.”
“Come on, sweetheart.” He held my hand and nodded for the paramedic to push us away.
As we began to roll down the hallway, it was the soft-spoken question that caused me to raise my hand in pause.
“Why would I steal from the company?” Fidge asked softly, his eyes still averted to the ground. “I make more than my fair share of money. I’m wealthy beyond what I ever need. Why would I break my family’s ties and chance ruining a cushy career for what...a few extra bucks?”
“Greed,” I said simply. “What else?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t me. I’ve been framed.”
“Shut it,” Meg said. “At least admit when you’re wrong. Have a little respect for yourself. Look at those ladies marching away with their heads held high. They might’ve broken the rules, but cripes, at least they’re not hypocrites.”
Fidge’s head snapped up, his gaze finally landing on me. “I am not a hypocrite. I would admit it,” he whispered. “You’ve got this all wrong.”
Chapter 27
“THAT WAS A WHIRLWIND,” I said, sighing in relief as I sunk onto the couch in our living room the next day. “Oh, it’s good to be home.”
Anthony closed the door, went to the kitchen and poured himself a stiff drink. Celebratory, he claimed, though I suspected it was probably to help deal with the pain of the hairline fracture in his hand.
I patted the couch next to me as he brought his drink into the living room, admiring the sparkle on my ring finger where my temporary wedding band sat until my official one was returned—and fit. The beautiful diamond band Anthony ordered had arrived days ago, and he’d saved it to give me as a gift in the hospital to commemorate Bella’s birth.
As he sat, I curled against him and inhaled the scent of a fresh shower with a twist of bourbon. He smelled good, delicious, and I showed him so with a lingering kiss.
“It’s so nice to be alone,” I said, then corrected myself. “Almost alone.”
I glanced down at the little bundle in my arms, her sweet face calm in sleep. We’d just gotten home from a busy day and night spent getting all checked in and out of the hospital. We’d been offered another night’s stay, but I was ready to be home. To be alone, together, as a family.
The hospital had been filled with visits non-stop from family members, police, and a few random fans who’d followed the story of the Baby Bandit in the news. In fact, Bella the Baby Bandit was already a bit famous. She’d received more fan mail on the day of her birth than I’d received in over thirty years of life.
The women had been booked, as well as Fidge and Rankle. I didn’t much care to follow up with any of them, though I planned to send Ginger and the girls a Christmas card as they’d suggested. One with Bella’s adorable little face slapped all over it.
“I think I’m going to finish unpacking the car,” Anthony said. “Are you okay in here for a few minutes?”
I nodded as Bella squirmed, her eyes blinking as her mouth formed a cute little pout that told me the little baby wails were coming soon.
“I’m just going to walk her around,” I said, easing to my feet. “She likes to be carried, and apparently, she hates to sit down.”
“Huh, I wonder who she gets that from.” Anthony winked at me, kissed my forehead. He helped me to my feet. “Shout if you need anything—I’ll just be ten minutes.”
“Take your time. I think we can handle ourselves.”
Bella and I made our way around the house, bouncing into the kitchen, the bedroom, the living room. As she sunk back into sleep, I took the stairs up to the nursery slowly, thinking she might like to hear a story.
All the books we owned were currently shelved in Nora’s old bookshelf near the nursery door, and I deemed it far enough away from the explosive mobile to be safe. I’d have to have Anthony take that down the second he got inside.
I hummed quietly as I approached the nursery, my mind combing over the events from the previous few days. Everything had sunk into place, perfectly so. The bank robbers had been arrested, Fidge had been uncovered, Rankle taken away. It was almost too perfect.
Normally, too perfect wouldn’t be a problem, but this time it felt odd. I didn’t trust perfect, especially not in my life. Nothing was ever perfect when Lacey Luzzi got involved.
Why would Fidge risk his money? The motive felt wrong to me. As much as I wanted this case to be locked up, closed, and stashed away for good, I couldn’t wrap my head around a few items.
“Which book should we read tonight, sweetheart?” I kissed the top of Bella’s head, lingering for a moment over that sweet baby smell. “We could read...”
I listed the names of some of my favorites, not expecting a response, but leaving time for one just in case she felt inclined to let me know her thoughts.
“What about this one?” I slid a particularly colorful gift from Meg off the shelf and flipped it open to the first page, spotted some particularly naughty words, and realized Meg had mistaken this adult’s book for a children’s one. I decided this bad boy would go in Bella’s getting older bin that she’d never be allowed to see because I’d decided I wanted her to stay little forever.
“Maybe we should stick with the classics,” I said, and reached for another to show Bella the bright pictures and rhyming words of the literary genius known as Dr. Seuss.
Bella stayed sleeping, which probably meant she didn’t care what sort of book we read. I went with my favorite and inched over to the rocking chair in the corner, suddenly armed with all the excitement in the world.
There were so many things to show Bella! Books and songs and stories. Places to see and adventures she’d
conquer. Love she’d know from her family, and the friends she’d find along the way. And someday, who knew? Someday she’d find love and have children of her own. Her life was just beginning.
The notion hit me straight in the gut, a spot still tender—physically and emotionally—from all that’d happened over the past week. I already wanted time to stop, to keep Bella a little nugget of sleeping joy, safe from all of the wildness in the world, warm and cozy in her little bundle of blankets.
I curled her closer, leaving the book beside the chair as we rocked, my eyes beginning to close as I joined her in a light doze, just awake enough to keep my arms wrapped tight around our little girl, the weight of her a perfect fit against my chest.
I suppose the noise caught me by surprise, but I was so tuned in to my daughter that I didn’t process the first creak. Or the second, really. I suppose I assumed it’d be Anthony coming to check on us, but on the third noise, I knew—sensed, maybe—that the sounds didn’t belong in this nursery.
My eyes flashed open, and I saw him.
Here.
In my baby’s bedroom, a gun aimed at my forehead.
“Hey, Lacey,” he said softly, as if to deliberately not wake the baby. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 28
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING here?” I stared past the barrel of the gun to William Bean, the nervous little man who’d fainted during the second bank heist I’d witnessed in the last couple weeks. “Put the gun down, please.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not an option.” His voice was steady, soft, and he glanced toward the door as he moved to it, locked it. “I would highly advise you to keep your voice down, keep your movements to a minimum. You do anything to alert that husband of yours, and you’re dead. Sorry.”
“He’ll be up here in a few minutes,” I said, stalling, my mind working double time as I thought first and foremost how I could get Bella out of here, keep her safe. She was barely a day old. I could hardly move or sit without wincing in pain. “I am no threat to you, so why are you here?”
