Lacey Luzzi: Sauced: A humorous, cozy mystery! (Lacey Luzzi Mafia Mysteries Book 4)

by Gina LaManna

  “Let’s walk,” Anthony said through gritted teeth.

  Chapter 9

  “Fine, I’ll walk,” I agreed. “But don’t think you can get out of this by kissing me or rubbing my neck or holding my hand.” Yes, all those options sounded great, but as painful as it was, I had to know if Anthony was willing to work with me in a professional capacity. If not, either our work or our private relationship would suffer. I needed to know which one would be the first to go.

  Guiding me in the opposite direction from Fede and away from the homeless man, Anthony led me down a side street one block over.

  “I wanted to talk to you in private because you deserve as much,” Anthony said, as we rounded the corner.

  I remained silent.

  “Lacey, you’re making this difficult on me,” Anthony said. “Talk to me.”

  “Fine,” I said, pulling up short and talking to Anthony’s back. He took a step before he’d realized I’d frozen in my tracks. Turning around, he dragged one hand through his hair and remained a short distance away. The space between us was a chilly one. “I know you work for Carlos. I know your job is important to you. It’s important to the whole Family – and I know that.”

  I took a ragged sigh. “It’s hard work being a girl in the Family. But it’s my job, too. I work hard. I want to do well. Sometimes I’m goofy and other times completely incompetent. But that doesn’t change the fact that I try.”

  “I know you do,” Anthony said. “Nobody doubts that.”

  “Really?” I asked, my voice snappier than I’d planned. “Because that’s what it feels like. First, you let me talk to a homeless person who I thought was one of your men. Second, you get a message that the rumors about a bomb are false, and you don’t tell me. Instead you pretend that everything is normal. I feel like I’m your pet puppy, Anthony. Like I’m a cute little golden retriever, like you’re showing me a good time, but putting me away when anything real happens. It doesn’t feel very nice.”

  “Lace,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. The reason I didn’t tell you was because I was having a good time with you.”

  I looked up, my confused face reflected back at me in Anthony’s creamy brown eyes. His gaze was soft, his mouth pinched with concern.

  “I don’t talk to many people like I talk to you,” Anthony said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. His back was stiff, his eyes hardening as he spoke. “It’s difficult for me to find someone I trust. Someone I feel comfortable to be myself around.”

  My internal emotions were roiling. He’d lied because he wanted to keep talking with me? I felt like the world’s largest dork now. A cruel dork.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know – I thought…I thought you were keeping things from me about the assignment because you didn’t trust me.”

  “No,” Anthony said. “I do trust you.”

  I shook my head. “But—”

  “There’s some things I can’t tell you right now,” Anthony said, interrupting me as I prepared to apologize again.

  I raised my eyes, the apology wedged in my throat. “About what?”

  “The bomb,” Anthony said, his eyes averted.

  I swallowed my apology with disappointment. “I thought you trusted me.”

  “I do, but—” Anthony gave a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s for your own good.”

  “No, Anthony. I don’t think so.” I shook my head. Gathering up as much courage as I could muster – all the way from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes, I faced the man I’d come to lo— er, like and trust. “It’s not for my own good. Carlos assigned us to work as partners on this. If you want to work together, I need to be a part of the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

  Anthony opened his mouth.

  “Don’t say you’re shielding me to keep me safe,” I said. “I’m not saying I want to bust in the warehouse and shoot up the place. I have no interest in guns, and I certainly don’t feel comfortable keeping them in my cup holder. I use butter knives to cut my steak because I’m afraid of sharp blades, and I nearly fainted the other day when Dr. Gambino pricked my finger.”

  He still refused to meet my eyes.

  “All I am asking is for transparency and honesty. If we’re going to be a team – partners – I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.”

  Anthony’s face contorted in a grimace that was impossible to mistake. Clearly he was fighting a battle as to whether or not he would tell me the information I asked of him. My heart ached as I longed to help him, but it wasn’t my decision to make. I’d expressed what I wanted; now he needed to decide what he wanted.

  My heart sank as his face settled into a harder version of what it was moments before. His chocolaty eyes darkened until they matched the color of raw cacao, and his lips were no longer soft at the edges. Pulled in a thin line, his mouth no longer smiled and his forehead creased with doubt. Running a hand through his hair once again, he stepped closer to me.

  “It’s all right,” I whispered. I couldn’t make this easier on either of us, but I would try. I wanted to be with Anthony, and he wanted to be with me. But if he couldn’t learn to trust and talk to me, I didn’t know what more I could do. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

  “Lacey,” Anthony said, grasping for my hand.

  I let him catch it, hold it, clasp his fingers in mine. When I peered up at him, my eyes were beginning to blur. My birthday had gone from exhilarating to devastating in a matter of moments, but then again, wasn’t that what falling in love was all about? The highest of highs followed by the deepest of troughs, all within a matter of minutes.

  Love? I distracted myself so I wouldn’t think about the moment at hand. Where had that come from? I’d barely done more than kiss the man.

  “You have to trust me. You have to believe me when I say this is something I can’t talk to you about,” Anthony said.

  His eyes pleaded with mine, and I believed that he was convinced he was doing the right thing. But I wasn’t.

  Alas, we were at a standstill.

  “I have two questions,” I said, my voice shaking. I cleared my throat and spoke with a stronger tone when I began again. “Please don’t lie to me.”

  “I haven’t lied to you,” Anthony said firmly.

  “Are you keeping something from me about the fireworks assignment from Carlos?” I asked.

  Anthony opened his mouth, closed it, and then clasped his hands in front of his body. His eyes were stony. “Yes.”

  I swallowed. I’d thought he wasn’t telling the full truth, so I wasn’t sure why it hit me so hard when he admitted it.

  “Lace—”

  “Second,” I said, holding up a finger, “are you leaving with Fede to work on the firearms thing?”

  “I don’t have a choice,” he said.

  “You do,” I said, my voice low and husky. “You’re the person Carlos trusts most. You’re the head of security. You do what you want. I thought you said you wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying,” he said, a fire beginning to blaze in his eyes. “I told you I wouldn’t lie.”

  “Then explain to me why suddenly forgetting about this whole bomb-going-off thing tomorrow is suddenly no longer on your agenda?” I asked. “The firearms issue can’t wait a day?”

  “It can,” Anthony said.

  “Well?” I raised my arms in a helpless gesture. “I promise you I’m not as stupid as I seem sometimes. Help me fill in the blanks, please.”

  “I promised you I wouldn’t lie,” Anthony said. “And I haven’t. Like you said, I do what I want. I’m the boss. I’m in charge, and now I’m pulling rank.”

  To my surprise, he closed the chilly distance between us and when our skin touched, the air went from frigid to flaming in a heartbeat. He pressed his lips to mine, an almost angry kiss, but one full of emotion and heart. His hand clamped down and held the back of my head tightly, the other arm pulling my body close with a tight gras
p around my lower back.

  When he broke the kiss, both of us appeared shocked. Both his chest and mine heaved with thick breaths. My mind and my spirit were rattled, but not my heart. The passion, the emotions, and the romance – none of it mattered if I couldn’t trust him.

  “I hate to do this,” Anthony said. “But it’s for your own good.”

  “’Bye, Anthony,” I said, stepping backwards, unable to remove my eyes from his.

  “Let me drive you home,” he said. “Please.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t know if I’m going home. “

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll call Clay,” I said. “I’m sure you have business to take care of.” The poison dripped from my voice, though I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me to dislike Anthony, let alone hurt him on purpose. They were hollow shells of words, the sentence a skeleton of what I really wanted to say.

  Anthony followed me for a bit as I strode back towards the front of the warehouse.

  “Stop,” I said. “You know what’s best, and you’ve decided that what Fede’s come to discuss with you is more important than the fireworks case.”

  “It’s not about important—”

  “I trust you’re doing what you think is right,” I said, stressing the you. “But I haven’t given up on the bomb. I’m sorry, but if you’re pulling rank, then I’m breaking it.”

  I could see how Anthony had achieved the position in the Family he held now. Unless he was a truly heartless person – which I didn’t believe – he was hurt, just like me. And if not hurt, at least conflicted. We’d been getting along so well, but apparently the old adage was correct about not mixing work and play. I regretted the moment Carlos urged me to work side by side with Anthony.

  Was a gig worth our relationship falling apart?

  I didn’t know that answer. No one could possibly know that answer. There wasn’t a right or a wrong one. I needed money, a job – I owed Carlos a follow-through on his assignment. People’s lives were in danger within the next twenty-four hours, under the threat of a bomb. The choice, as hard as it was, didn’t feel like a choice. I couldn’t knowingly let a bomb explode and injure innocent people.

  When Anthony couldn’t come up with a response, I hit the dial button and waited for Clay to answer.

  “Hi, can you come pick me up?” I asked when I heard his voice.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you need directions?” I asked.

  “I know where you’re at, cousin. Come on,” Clay said, as if upset that I doubted his ability to track me at all times.

  “Thanks. See you soon,” I said, hanging up and looking down. I didn’t have my purse on me, and I’d washed these clothes recently. Where had Clay stashed his dang tracking device this time?

  Anthony leaned against the wall of the warehouse that was apparently abandoned and completely free of fireworks, despite hours of work his men had put in staking out the place. I still couldn’t understand how their information had been so wrong. Weren’t they supposedly the best in the business?

  “You can go,” I said to Anthony. My shoulders sank. I wasn’t so much sad anymore as resigned. Disappointed, maybe.

  “I’ll wait,” he said simply.

  It was an awkward ten minute silence until Clay’s creep van trundled down the otherwise quiet street. Fede stood dutifully at the edge of the street and gave a wave as Clay drove by. A moment later, the homeless man copied him and waved in Clay’s direction as well. The former, probably because he recognized a fellow Family member. The latter because – well, probably because he wanted to be included in the party as well.

  I waved back to both the men as I climbed in the car. It was a bit depressing that I had taken to waving to people who clearly weren’t trying to get my attention. But it was my birthday and I was lonely. I could wave to whomever I wanted.

  “You know—” Clay started, as I buckled my seatbelt.

  “I know they weren’t waving to me,” I snapped. “Drive.”

  “Okey dokey. Someone took their grumpy pills today,” Clay said, as he stepped on the gas. “Wanna talk about it?”

  I stared blankly out the passenger window as my gaze met Anthony’s. His was full of what could’ve been remorse, but it was hard to say for sure – he maintained his business expression that didn’t have space for me. Our eyes remained locked until my line of sight was torn away as Clay turned the corner.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Clay said, whistling a tune as he merged onto the highway. “Where we going?”

  “Home, please,” I said. “It’s the middle of the night. I’m gonna get some sleep tonight and get to work in the morning.”

  “Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” Clay asked, casting a look in my direction. “You seem fairly, uh, distraught. Not that I know much about emotions or anything.”

  “I’m fine, really,” I said, turning my head so I faced out the window. My words fell flat even to me, and my reflection in the mirror was anything but fine.

  “You don’t seem—”

  “I’m tired,” I said. “I had a busy day and a late night. I am nowhere near solving the fireworks case, and I’m even less close to finding the sauce. I have twenty-four hours left to do both and I’m a little stressed. That’s all.”

  “Stop stressing,” Clay said. “Anthony’s working on it. He’s close, I’m sure of it.”

  “Great,” I muttered. “Makes me feel even better.”

  “Did you two have a falling out?” he asked. “Seemed a bit icy back there. Colder than Antarctica, actually. Below zero. We’re talking dry ice temperatures. We’re talking middle of winter—”

  “I get it,” I said. “It’s nothing. Just a business disagreement.”

  “You have to stop worrying,” Clay said. “I hate to see you like this.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I confessed. “I feel like I’ve exhausted all my leads and it’s just falling short. How do I fix it? What do I do next?”

  “What’s your plan?” Clay asked.

  “I don’t know,” I confessed. “Anthony is busy with something else now, so apparently I’m on my own.”

  “Ah,” Clay said. “I see. But listen, I know Anthony. He’d never leave you alone on this. I’m sure he has plenty of men on it. Nobody will get hurt, I promise you.”

  “How can you know that?” I asked.

  Clay’s cheeks brightened.

  “You, too?” I asked. “What the heck is going on? Why all the secrets?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clay said, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly it looked like ten white sausages were driving.

  “You know something I don’t,” I said, the exasperation seeping from my voice. “Cripes. This is just great.”

  “It’s not—”

  “Don’t tell me,” I interrupted. “Anthony has almost solved the fireworks case, and he doesn’t need my help.” I suddenly saw the logic – the reason everyone was acting weird. “You knew about it. So did Anthony. So did Fede. There’s no real threat anymore, they just wanted me to feel like I was doing something.”

  Clay’s eyes were wide, staring straight ahead at the yellow lines flying past, underneath his car, reflecting off his headlights in the dark of night.

  “Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “This is unbelievable. No wonder. Anthony wasn’t lying. It wasn’t that he thinks the fireworks case is unimportant. It’s that he’s either solved it already, or has almost solved it. He’s probably happy I left, so he could finish the job in peace.”

  “I don’t think that’s the case—”

  “Of course it is,” I said, now on a roll. “So when Fede showed up with new information on the firearms issue, Anthony felt it was more important only because the bomb was taken care of.”

  Clay’s ears were redder than a beet.

  “You knew about it. Anthony knows about it. I bet you Carlos knows about it.” I shook my head ag
ain, feeling like I had a very bobbly neck. “You all must think it’s so funny, so entertaining to have a woman in the Family business. Tell me, were you going to solve the mystery and then let me take all the credit, laughing about it behind my back?”

  “It’s not because you’re a woman,” Clay blurted.

  “I knew it,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “You know about it.”

  Clay’s face was the epitome of misery. “It’s for your own good.”

  I’d heard that enough for today. I was a thirty-year-old woman – I knew what was good enough for me. And even if I didn’t, it was about time I learned.

  “Take me to Meg’s,” I said. “I’m staying with her for tonight.”

  “Meg’s?” Clay asked weakly. He glanced at the clock. “It’s before two a.m.. Wouldn’t she still be working?”

  “Even better,” I said. “Take me to the bar.”

  ** **

  “What are you doing here, chickadee?” Meg asked as I stomped into her bar, followed closely by Clay.

  “Just in the area,” I said tightly. I caught her sneaking a confused glance at Clay. For a moment, I wondered if Meg was in on this whole keep Lacey in the dark thing, but dismissed it immediately. Anthony wouldn’t have coordinated with Meg. She had no say in anything related to Family business. Anthony didn’t even coordinate with me.

  “Can I have an extra tall, extra wide, extra strong vodka diet?” I asked.

  “You don’t need to diet, honey,” Meg said. “Let me get you the good stuff.”

  “Can I stay here tonight?” I asked, as Clay awkwardly slid up next to me at the bar. Meg had already turned her back and begun gathering a stack of fancy ingredients for a drink that was anything but diet.

  I shot Clay a hurt glance and faced the bar.

  “Lace…” he started. Thankfully, Meg – being the amazing friend she was – turned the blender on high speed, barring any conversation from happening, which was completely fine with me.

  “You know I’ve just been sleeping in that room back there, right?” Meg asked.