by Gina LaManna
I picked up the paper, taking my time to unfold it. Stalling, I tried to gauge Carlos’s mood, but I couldn’t place it. Somewhere in between nervous and confused, maybe. Carlos didn’t “do” nervous; he did angry, though. Boy, did he do angry well. He’d also mastered a variety of emotions and characteristics including, but not limited to, hard-assed, cold-blooded, unforgiving, smart, and strategic. Every once in a while he showed something resembling love, but that was more like a glimmer in the distance, and not a bright, shining, beacon of love. Let’s put it this way. Carlos didn’t believe in Cupid. And if he did, he believed in the same Cupid as Meg – one shooting real bullets.
When I couldn’t delay opening the paper ball any longer, I ran a hand over the sheet, smoothing out the crumples. I leaned forward, doing my best to read the smudged words on the page. Meg swallowed her half of the bread loaf, then leaned over my shoulder to read right along with me.
Dear Dad,
We ran away. We love you.
Marissa and Clarissa.
P.S. You can have my piggy bank, since I took all the money out – Marissa
P.P.S. You can have mine, too – Clarissa
“Those kids are generous,” Meg said. “Leaving a will behind at such a young age. What are they, four?”
“No, they’re at least…somewhere between the ages of six and twelve.” I never quite remembered the ages of my cousins, Marissa and Clarissa. All I knew was that they were young, squeal-y, and the spawn of the devil. They also thought kissing was gross and they teased me and Anthony to no end. That put them in middle school, right?
“Well, this explains why Nicky ran out of here in a huff,” I said. “When did they run away?”
Carlos inhaled. “They must have left the note this morning. Nicky dropped them off at the school’s front door like usual, then went to the Laundromat for a shift. He stopped home at lunch, and found this.”
“So the girls walked home to leave a note?” I looked down. “For them, that is surprisingly thoughtful.”
“They didn’t show up to their first class of the day. The school called home and left a message, but—”
“Nicky was at the Laundromat,” I finished. “I see. So they disappeared sometime around eight this morning, and it’s around one now.”
“It’s after one,” Carlos said. “You were late for our meeting.”
Meg turned her attention to the baguette.
“I called your friend at eleven,” Carlos said. “She was supposed to get you the message.”
“She did. It’s my fault,” I said. “I was busy. I didn’t realize it was important. You could’ve called me. I have a cell phone.”
“If someone says they’ll deliver a message, I expect it’ll be delivered.” Carlos looked at the top of Meg’s head, which was the only visible part of her, since her nose nearly touched the table while she examined the wood with surprising vigor.
“Hey, leave Meg out of this,” I said. “She delivered the message. Now, what specifically do you want me to do about this?” I gestured to the note.
Carlos stared at the paper as if it might burst into flames at any minute. “Fix it,” he said eventually, but this time his words contained the slightest hint of a question mark.
“The girls are probably just going through a rebellious stage.” I shrugged. “We’ve all done it. And their dad is Nicky, so give them a break. He’s doing the best he can, but he’s not Mr. Mom.”
“Yeah, and their only real female influence in life is Lacey,” Meg jumped in. “That doesn’t leave them much hope from the ‘girl’ end of things.”
I frowned in her direction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s a compliment. They’ll grow up to be empowered women, that’s for sure, but they also won’t listen to any rules. I mean, Lace, you brought a bulletproof bra to their show and tell. That’s kind of against the rules. What were you trying to teach those kids?”
Carlos put a hand over his eyes.
“It was your bra!” I glanced at Carlos, then lowered my voice and continued talking to Meg. “It wasn’t my fault Clay gave it to me instead of the lasers I wanted to bring.”
Carlos’s other hand came up at the mention of Meg, Clay, and bras all in one sentence. I didn’t blame him; the image was overwhelming.
“Yeah, I bet they were impressed with the looks of that puppy.” Meg grinned. “Anyway, I meant that as a compliment, Lace. I mean, you’re proud of your granddaughter, right, Carlos?”
Carlos laid his head on the table. His back rose and fell in even motions, but each “exhale” was accompanied by a powerful hiss.
“Never mind.” I waved a hand. “We understand that the girls’ mothers aren’t in the picture, and that Nicky’s doing the best he can. We also need to remember that the girls are smart – street smart. They’ve cleaned me out of cash on more than one occasion, and I never saw it coming.”
“I bet they had a lot of money saved in them piggy banks,” Meg said. “Maybe they went on vacation.”
“I think you might be onto something.” I reached out and very gently, very cautiously, rested my hand on top of Carlos’s. He was still deep breathing into the table, though at my touch, his hisses quieted to puffs. “Carlos, it’s going to be fine.”
“I once ran away,” Meg said. “I was seven. Do you remember that, Lacey? I stole all your mom’s clothes and set out for a career in dancing.”
“Yeah, I remember. You came back as soon as your stomach started growling.” Looking back, it was a funny story. Not so much at the time, however. One night, Meg’s mom hadn’t come home to their apartment, so Meg set off in order to teach her mother a lesson. Meg made it as far as my apartment, which was two doors down from hers. She’d realized that she had to go to the bathroom before running away, and since she had locked herself out of her own apartment, she used ours. Then, she decided she was hungry. And if you give a mouse a cookie…
My mom had fed Meg, popped a movie in, and got a spare key from the landlord when it was time to change into pajamas for the night. Thankfully, Meg didn’t seem to remember the part where her mom hadn’t noticed her missing.
“Hey, Missy, your runaway attempt wasn’t successful, either.” Meg nodded in my direction. “You were what, five?”
I laughed. “Yes, I was mad at my mom because she wouldn’t let me have a second bowl of ice cream for breakfast. Though now that I think about it, I’m surprised I got the first bowl.”
“You were cranky that day, so she had to let you have it.” Meg smiled back. “But when you ran away, you went out with a bang. All you packed was underwear. You shoved, like, fifty-six pairs into your backpack. How fast do you go through them?”
“I wanted to be prepared.” My face bloomed a brilliant red. “At least I didn’t pack an apple slicer and no apples!”
“All I have to say is that not much has changed.” Meg grinned triumphantly. “You still eat ice cream for breakfast and you still shove pairs of undies in your purse.”
Carlos’s head thunked against the table and the hissing sounds came back.
“I do not!” I looked down where, to my dismay, a tiny hint of lace peeked out from my purse. Or rather, my safe transport vehicle for fresh underwear. “And even if I do, you don’t have to tell my grandfather!”
“Then move your underwear drawer into Anthony’s place so I can use your closet when I visit,” Meg said. “It’s simple.”
“I still live there! You can’t take my underwear drawer.”
“Right.” Meg paused in thought. “Good thing I just came up with a solution that’ll help us both out.”
“What’s that?”
“Move your underwear drawer.”
I sighed a long, drawn-out sigh. Then my eyes caught the piece of paper, and somehow, somewhere, I scrounged up the resolve to table the discussion about undergarments until later.
“Carlos, the point of all this is that the girls are most likely fine. Most little girls run away at so
me point in their lives, and I’m sure they’ll be home before the school day’s over. They probably went to the mall or something. Maybe they wanted to impress a boy.”
“A boy?” Carlos’s head shot up, his face so red I worried he’d pop.
“Or, maybe they wanted new nail polish.” I waved a hand. “Don’t they have cell phones?”
“Yes, we’re working on that angle,” Carlos said. “But they’re those pay as you go pieces of junk that are hard to track. They’re not picking up when we call, and their message boxes are now full.”
“Clay could find their phones,” Meg offered. “I’ll ask him in exchange for a small favor.”
Carlos looked at me. “What sort of favor?”
I looked to Meg. “What sort of favor?”
Meg cracked her knuckles. “There’s two options. The first? Let me have your bedroom, Lacey. You’re hardly living there anyway.”
“No. Try again.”
“Fine. Option two: one million dollars.”
“Meg, be reasonable,” I said. “How about you ask Clay to find the girls’ phones, and Carlos will…uh, what will you give her?”
Carlos looked at me. “One hand-rolled cigar.”
“Deal.” Meg stuck out her hand. “Shake on it?”
Carlos looked at her hand like he might a particularly slimy fish, then he looked at me. I raised my shoulders. “Do you want Clay’s help?”
Carlos reached across the table and gave the shortest, briefest shake of a hand possible. “You call him now, and I’ll give you the cigar before you leave today.”
Meg was up and out of the kitchen, pulling the phone from her pocket before I could catch the baguette flying out of her lap. “You’re sweet, Carlos, you know that?” She paused in the doorway. “You’re a big old softie for your granddaughters, I can tell.”
Then Meg was gone, the swinging door whooshing shut as she started yammering to Clay.
Carlos’s eyes focused on the table. “I’m not a softie.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” I said. At Carlos’s glare, I added quickly, “But don’t worry, you’re not soft. I’m sure she’s just surprised that you’re not ignoring her.”
“I invited you here today, not her. Why is she here?”
“She’s helping us, and frankly we can take all the help we can get.” I pushed the paper towards him. “What do you want me to do about this?”
“I thought my instructions were clear.”
“You said to fix it. Are we sure something’s wrong? I can’t report them missing to the police for something like twenty-four or forty-eight hours. I don’t remember all the details.”
Carlos’s eyes darkened. “But they’re children.”
“They’re smart children,” I said. “Really, Carlos, I’m sure they’ll be back before the school day is over. They’re probably at the playground hiding in the tunnel and giggling.”
“Is that what you did when you ran away?”
I nodded. “All girls hide from their parents at some point. In fact, I’m surprised it has taken them this long to start acting out. They’re probably looking for a little attention from their dad.”
“But Nora gives them attention.”
“It’s not the same.” Feeling a wave of exasperation, I almost told Carlos to take a chill pill. But a tiny streak of uncertainty in his eyes stopped me in my tracks, and all at once I understood why he’d called me.
Carlos didn’t understand women; he didn’t understand girls of any sort, let alone his young granddaughters. He even handled his wife with a dainty set of gloves – yes, he loved my grandmother, but he didn’t understand her. He’d asked me here because, for once, I had an advantage on him: I was a girl. And I understood how girls thought. Some of them, at least. Meg’s brain would forever remain a mystery, but she was a special case.
“What if they don’t come back?” The slight groove of worry lines only cemented Carlos’s concern.
“They will. I promise.” I offered Carlos my most confident smile, though I had to admit that his discomfort was starting to worry me. “I’ll tell you what. I don’t have an assignment right now, and my day is free. I’ll go over to Nicky’s house and ask him a few questions. Maybe the girls left another note and he didn’t find it, or maybe there’s a hint where they went.”
“A hint?”
“Maybe they Googled a nearby park on their laptop, or left a friend’s phone number sitting around. Who knows? Maybe a whole group of kids ditched school today. Or maybe they’re already home safe and sound, and Nicky’s too busy yelling at them to call you.”
“Then what?” Carlos cleared his throat. “If they’re not there, I mean.”
“Well, we’ve already got a few bases covered and people chasing down leads. By the time I’m done asking Nicky questions, Clay should have some information on their cell phone locations. We can stop by their school and talk to their teacher. We’ll get a feel for who they hung out with at lunch. Kids talk a lot at lunch, and I’m sure one of their buddies will know exactly what they’re up to today.”
“Okay.” Carlos rapped his knuckles against the table. “Fine.”
“Okay?” I smiled. “Do you feel better?”
Carlos scowled. “I’m not upset.”
“Sure, sure you aren’t, buddy.”
“Don’t call me buddy.” Carlos leaned back against the wall, stretching his arms, twisting his neck, and looking everywhere but into my eyes. “But what if they didn’t run away…?”
My blood ran cold. “Carlos, do you have any reason to believe that someone’s after these girls?”
His eyes darkened. “No.”
“Then why would you say something like that?”
“Because they wouldn’t be the first family members to run into trouble due to the nature of my job.” Carlos’s eyes were clear and unblinking. As close to apologetic as I’d ever seen.
I flinched as memories of The Fish hijacking my birthday party and popping up at the Family vacation home in Tonka came rushing back. Maybe I’d been thinking of the situation all wrong. I’d been looking at the girls’ runaway note through the lens of a “normal” girl, and sometimes, even “normal” girls ran away from home. However, Marissa and Clarissa weren’t “normal.” They were related to Carlos Luzzi, and I knew all too well the hazards of sharing a name with our grandfather.
“I’m going to go talk to Nicky,” I said, my voice quiet. “I’m sure they’re fine, Carlos, really. But I won’t take any chances.”
He gave a single nod. “Good.”
CHAPTER 7
“Nora?” I called, glancing down the hall. If I wasn’t mistaken, my grandmother was busy trying to blend into the wall; a feat that was nearly impossible, considering she had on a pair of lime green leggings and a pastel pink tank top. Meanwhile, the wall was white.
“Oh, dear. I had no idea you’d be here.” Nora gave a lighthearted chuckle. Except it wasn’t airy and light as usual. This time, it was more of a forced guffaw.
“Did she swallow a donkey?” Meg glanced at me with wide eyes. “Because that sound coming out of your grandmother is not natural.”
“Nora, is everything okay?” After Carlos had released us with a request for regular progress reports, Meg, me, and the baguette had taken our leave.
“Everything’s fine, dear.” Nora wrung her hands together, her eyes focused on the ground. “I’m just…uh, busy.”
The last time Nora had been busy with anything besides The Google, Words with Friends, or matchmaking her family members, perms were in style. “Really?”
“Let me handle this.” Meg stepped forward, holding the baguette out in front of her like a wand straight out of Hogwarts. “Nora, do you have something you want to tell Lacey?”
“Are you doing that thing again?” Nora’s eyes widened in fear, and she looked at the breadstick like it might combust in flames. “That magic thing where you read people’s minds?”
“Yeah,” Meg said. “I’m psychic.”
“Meg is not, and has never been, psychic,” I muttered.
Meg harrumphed. “If I wasn’t psychic, then how did I know Nora had something to tell you?”
I could’ve listed off a hundred reasons, but I refrained because Nora was eyeing Meg as if she had descended from Zeus himself, and I didn’t want to break the spell. If I had to choose between my grandmother believing Meg was psychic or telling the truth and not getting my information, then Meg was as magic as they came.
“It’s true,” Nora said in a hushed tone. “I did have something to tell Lacey.”
“What is it?” I stepped forward, laying a hand on Meg’s arm so she’d lower the baguette.
“Boom.” Meg opened her hand, the bread tumbling to the floor. “Dropping the baguette.”
“Nora, what’s going on?” I bent over and retrieved Meg’s gluten-wand as Nora wrung her hands a few more times. “Is this about the girls?”
Nora gave a single nod. “It might be.”
“Come here and talk to us. Meg and I are looking into it.” I led my grandmother out of earshot of the security guards wandering the house, away from the Hallway of Infamy, where Carlos might be eavesdropping from the kitchen, and into a small alcove off the Great Hall. “I just talked to Carlos. He gave me the details.”
“But there’s one detail I didn’t tell him.” Hunching over, Nora appeared shrunken as she eased into a chair, her feet dangling so they barely brushed against the ground. “I tried to convince myself it wasn’t important, but now I’m wondering if it has everything to do with them running away.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. Behind me, Meg walked back and forth, thunking the loaf of bread in her palm like she would a nightstick. I turned around. “Relax Meg, okay? It’s my grandma. No need to bust out the baguette.”
“Auntie, I prefer Auntie, I’m not that old,” the white-haired, ninety-going-on-twenty-year-old said. “But I can’t keep it a secret anymore. Lacey, don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“I can’t promise that. If it can help find the girls, I’ll have to bring it up to Carlos and Nicky.”
