Lacey Luzzi: Spiced: a humorous, cozy mystery! (Lacey Luzzi Mafia Mysteries Book 8)

by Gina LaManna

  CHAPTER 39

  I parked in a downtrodden neighborhood just outside the city center, a place that blended in perfectly with the sludgy snow and overflowing barrels of trash. The house in question was nothing special, but compared to the neighboring apartment complexes, it wasn’t the worst.

  Without bothering to check the street cleaning, snow emergency, and other flavors of parking signs, I climbed out of the car and shouted for Meg to wait with Nora. They were busy calling Anthony, Clay, and the rest of the gang for backup. Well, Meg was murmuring sweet nothings to Clay while my cousin struggled to work the three-way calling to loop in Anthony. Ironic, for a tech genius.

  My feet barely hit the pavement as I flew up the sidewalk, knocking on the front door of the address my father had given me. I had to keep moving before I got cold feet, literal or figurative. My heart pounded in my chest, pumping my bloodstream full of adrenaline as I bored holes into the wood with my eyeballs.

  The door didn’t open on the first, second, or third knock. But when I tried the handle, not only was it unlocked, it nearly fell off its hinges.

  “Hello?” I took a cautious step, hesitant to step too far inside without backup. However, if the girls were in danger, I couldn’t wait a second longer. “Is anyone home?”

  I gave a jerky wave in Meg’s direction, wordlessly signaling that I was going further into the home. Hopefully, she’d back me up if trouble arose since I hadn’t seen a gun in nearly two months, let alone touched one.

  “It’s okay,” a small voice said. “Nobody’s here except me.”

  As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I saw her. Without a doubt in my mind, I knew the shrunken woman before me was Adriana Miller. Nurse Dee. Marissa’s mother. At some point in the distant past, she might’ve been pretty, but a hard life had chiseled away her high cheekbones and the sun had sagged her skin.

  “He said you’d come,” she said. “He said if I didn’t answer the phone that you’d come.”

  I glanced around the apartment, trying to decide if she was nuts. “Who said I’d come?”

  Instead of responding, she extended a thin, emaciated arm, a wisp of paper dangling from her shaky fingers. “He said to give you this.”

  I rescued the paper as if it were a kite about to be blown away in the wind, cradling it in my palms as I read the words.

  Tonight. 8 p.m.

  Stone Arch Bridge.

  Come alone, or don’t come at all.

  If you bring friends, the girls won’t be returned in one piece.

  That is my promise.

  “Who gave you this?” My voice shook.

  “He said you’d know.”

  “Dark hair?” I murmured. “Blue eyes?”

  Adriana’s nod confirmed what I already knew. The Fish was back. Bigger, more dangerous, and better prepared than before.

  “He dated you, too?” she asked, her face filled with grief. “Did he fool you like he did me?”

  “Dated?” My voice cracked at the thought of ever laying a hand on that man in a tender way. “No, never. What on earth makes you think that?”

  Adriana walked over to the fridge, opening the door and staring inside with empty eyes. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “Sit down. You’re going to tell me what’s going on, right now.” My voice shook with a dangerous cocktail of fear and determination. My gut told me Adriana had been duped worse than me somehow, but that didn’t make her innocent.

  She sighed a rattling breath before pulling a Pepsi from the fridge and gesturing towards the kitchen table.

  I followed her, taking one of two tattered chairs that sat around the table. Adriana pushed the unopened Pepsi can towards me, but when I shook my head, she cracked the lid open and sat back in her chair.

  “What happened?” I asked, my voice falling on the thin edge between sympathy and frustration. “Tell me everything. It’s important.”

  “A few weeks ago, I met a man,” she said. “He seemed like a gentleman. Nice, polite, good looking – those blue eyes; you know what it’s like.”

  I nodded, but only so she’d continue. I disagreed with her assessment of him with a passion. His eyes weren’t pure, they were cold. His politeness wasn’t kind, it was calculating. His motivations weren’t genuine; they were meant to hurt. To kill.

  “Where did you meet him?” I pressed on for the sake of the girls. More than ever, time was of the essence.

  “We bumped into each other at the grocery store. Literally.” She let out a wry, light laugh. “I should’ve know it was too perfect. Nothing ever happens to me like it does in the movies.” She gestured around the kitchen. “I mean, look at this place. Doesn’t belong in Hollywood, am I right?”

  Layers upon layers of the regret, choices, and decisions that had landed Adriana here fell heavily around the room.

  “Sometimes life deals us a difficult hand of cards, but that’s not an excuse,” I said, thinking of the many hard hands of cards dealt to people in my life. Anthony. Carlos. Nicky. My mother. Arguably even myself. Adriana wasn’t the only one with problems. “So you met this guy at the grocery store.”

  “We got to chatting. Both of us had a frozen pizza in our baskets which, looking back, probably wasn’t a coincidence.” She wrapped bony fingers around the can of Pepsi, tapping it against the table. “One thing led to another, and we decided that if we were both gonna cook frozen pizza for dinner, we might as well just go out for the real thing.”

  “And you did, then and there.” I tried not to let any judgment slip into my voice. After all, if it had worked out fine, it would’ve been a cute story. It wasn’t far off from online dating, if I thought about it. Most first dates were with a stranger.

  “Look, I was lonely, and he was nice and polite. It’s not like I jumped in bed with him,” she said, her defenses rising. “We didn’t even drive in the same car. We walked a block away to a public pizza joint and got a slice. After that, we parted ways. I went home, and so did he. We didn’t even exchange phone numbers. I thought for once I’d met a normal human being. Excuse me for being optimistic.”

  I leaned forward. “Let me guess what happened next. Somehow, you bumped into him again?”

  “The next week,” she said. “I grocery shop on Mondays after work almost every week. So it wouldn’t have been all that strange to run into someone who had the same habit as me.”

  “But you hadn’t seen him any other Monday after work. These were the first two instances?”

  “You know how it is,” she said, her feathers preemptively ruffling. “Maybe we’d missed each other, or maybe we hadn’t noticed each other before. That day, we saw each other in the bread aisle. Since we’d eaten pizza together the previous week, it was only natural that I’d say hi.”

  “You made a joke then, and he joked back, and then you laughed, and he then laughed,” I said, already seeing The Fish’s plan of attack. My heart sank as I realized he’d involved another innocent victim. He’d preyed on the lonely and optimistic, a fatal combination. “Did you go out for pizza again?”

  “It became our weekly routine,” she said. “Monday night pizza for a few weeks.”

  “Did you ever invite him back here?” My eyes fell on the sink, which contained a handful of dishes in need of a wash. “Or go over to his place?”

  “Never his place,” she said. “And after four pizza dates, he stopped over here. Just once, for lunch.”

  “Would you say you were dating by that point?”

  “We’d never discussed it. Never labeled anything.”

  “But would you have said you were seeing him?”

  “We only kissed once. He kissed me, and it hardly counted,” she said, her eyes darkening. “I invited him over for lunch on Sunday this past weekend. By then, I thought we knew each other pretty well. He came for lunch, and I invited him to stick around after to see a movie, but he said he had to get going. He kissed me on the cheek, and that was the last I saw of him until today.”


  Something wasn’t adding up. I folded my arms over one another, working through the story as she’d told it. Could Adriana be involved? If yes, then why such an elaborate backstory that didn’t lead anywhere? What was I missing?

  “What aren’t you telling me?” I asked her, realizing her daughter hadn’t yet come up in conversation. “It’s important. I need to know.”

  Twisting her hands in her lap, she looked down. “When he came over for lunch, we talked about something. Someone.” She cleared her throat. “My daughter.”

  I feigned ignorance. “You have a daughter?”

  “We don’t keep in touch.” Her eyes locked on the Pepsi can, and her choppily painted nails wiggled the top of the can back in forth. “We’ve never kept in touch.”

  I tried to overlook the wistful tone in her voice, but there was a note of regret that registered in some universal place in my gut.

  “If you don’t keep in touch, then how did it come up?” I asked. I waited for a long beat, but when she didn’t seem inclined to respond, I let out a long sigh. “I know about your daughter. I’m related to Nicky, their dad. The girls are missing, and that’s why I came here. I’m looking for them.”

  “I never knew…” Her voice faded away. “I couldn’t have expected it.”

  “Expected what?”

  Her eyes went slightly out of focus as she stared at the Pepsi can. “I thought he understood.”

  “Focus, please. I haven’t decided whether or not you have anything to do with your daughter’s disappearance, but you can bet that if you are involved, I’ll find out.”

  “I didn’t do anything.” Her hands shook. “I promise, I never wanted to hurt them or take them away from their families. I just wanted to see her.”

  “Walk me through, detail by detail, how the subject of your daughter came up in the first place.”

  “He was a good listener, okay?” Her eyes blazed. “Do you know how hard those types of men are to come by? I’ve been alone for so long. The last string of men I’d dated were all jerks. Nicky, he wasn’t so bad. He was the last decent guy I had in my life, but neither of us was ready for a relationship, or for a child.”

  “Nicky made himself ready,” I said, my own defenses rising for my family. “He’s probably the last person that should’ve had children at that point in his life, but he’s made himself a good father. He loves your daughter. A lot. He takes care of her, so yes – you’re right. Nicky is a good man.”

  She swallowed, her eyes welling with tears. “When she was born, I told Nicky I couldn’t care for her. I wasn’t up for the challenge. Call it weak, call it irresponsible, call it lazy, call it whatever you want. I begged Nicky to put her up for adoption. Neither he nor I wanted to have a baby at that time. We were still screwing around with our lives. I didn’t even know what I wanted for myself, let alone someone else.”

  “But Nicky stepped up to the challenge,” I said. “And he let you off the hook.”

  After a staring contest with the dotted “i” in Pepsi, she nodded. “He didn’t want to give her up for adoption. Neither of us wanted to stay together. He said he’d care for Marissa, and that I’d never hear from them again. He just asked that I wouldn’t give her up for adoption. He wanted to raise her.”

  Having never had a child myself, I felt a little out of my league trying to sympathize with Adriana. From the pinched sound of her words, I could tell that even back then, the choice hadn’t been easy.

  “A few years later, by the time I’d cleaned up my own life, it was too late,” she said. “I eventually found a job in a nursing home and discovered I loved it. I bought a house. I could’ve given her a home.” She scanned the scarred table and the dishes in the sink. “Not a fancy home, but a real one. Except it was too late.”

  The way her face fell with regret, with opportunities missed and a life that’d passed her by, my heart wrenched with sympathy. I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “It’s not too late,” I said. “Help me find your daughter and her sister, and maybe you two can talk about building a relationship.”

  “It’s too late. I’ve been gone all her life.”

  “Look at me, I’m a living testament it’s not too late.” At Adriana’s raised eyebrows, I gave a small smile. “I only found my family a handful of years ago when my mom died. I’d never met my grandmother, my grandfather, Nicky – none of them – until I was twenty-six. Now, I’m nearly thirty, and I can’t imagine my life without them. As for my dad? I only met him a few months ago. I’m telling you, it’s not too late.”

  She sized me up, the skepticism heavy in her gaze. When I didn’t look away, the skepticism eventually began to melt. Underneath years of cynicism, I saw a tiny ray of hope glimmering in her eyes. “Do you mean it?”

  I nodded. “And I’m willing to bet that Marissa would be thrilled to have you in her life.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Before you go debating that point, we have to find her first. So can you please help me understand what happened during the lunch date discussion about your daughter? What did Blue Eyes call himself, by the way?”

  Her fingers played a nervous beat on the table top. “I’ll tell you everything. I want to find my daughter.” She looked at me then, her gaze hardened into a determination that hadn’t been there moments before. “His name? He called himself Anthony.”

  “Anthony,” I swallowed. “Really.”

  “Does it mean something to you?”

  I looked down. It had to be a message. The Fish was toying with me, playing with those closest to my heart. I raised my gaze, determined not to let him worm his slippery little way inside my head. My nerves were rattled enough without his mind games.

  “No,” I said. “It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Ten minutes later, I felt like I’d been through a war. Meg had texted a while ago asking if I was bound and gagged and in need of assistance, so I sent her a message back saying that things were fine, and could she please keep an eye on my grandmother? As for my father…he must’ve been further away than he’d initially estimated. There was no sign of him yet.

  As for Adriana, it was like pulling teeth to get the information out of her. From what I’d gleaned between her nervous sips of Pepsi, Adriana had gotten to know The Fish over four lunch dates. During which, he’d acted like a complete and utter gentleman. He’d paid the check every time, walked her to the car, never once pushed for anything other than the single kiss on the cheek, and overall behaved as an upstanding date.

  “Too upstanding, in retrospect,” she said. “I should’ve known I’d never find someone who was actually that good to me in real life.”

  “Hey,” I said, my voice coming out more sharply than I’d intended. “Don’t say that. There are good men left out there. Just because there’s one crazy apple doesn’t mean the rest of the barrel is spoiled. Everyone deserves to be treated with respect.”

  “Not me.” She shook her head, the tears pooling in her eyes. “Not after this.”

  “You weren’t trying to hand over your daughter to a kidnapper,” I said. “This man – the one you know as Anthony – he goes by The Fish. I don’t know his real name, but I know it’s not what he told you. I also know he’s smart. He’s as smart as they come, and he’s manipulated some very smart people.”

  “This isn’t the first you’ve seen of him.” Her voice fell flat. “He’s a professional. A professional kidnapper is holding my daughter hostage.”

  “You didn’t know what he was capable of doing, and there will be time later to talk about everything else. For now, the best thing you can do – the thing you have to do – is focus and finish your story. Can you do that?”

  She nodded. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

  I recounted her story back to her to make certain that I’d understood it all correctly. According to Adriana, sometime during the third date, The Fish had opened up about a daughter of his own. A daughter that I
suspected was fabricated, a mere figment of his imagination created to tug at a guilty mother’s heartstrings. With his sob story, he’d put Adriana so at ease that she’d opened up about her own daughter.

  “I never talk about Marissa,” she said. “I’m too ashamed about my past to bring it up. I’m not ashamed of her, of course, only of myself. Having to explain why I don’t have contact with my own daughter doesn’t make me sound very appealing on a first date now, does it?”

  “The Fish has a way of getting people to talk, so don’t be too hard on yourself,” I said. “I have to get going soon to get ready for tonight. People are going to come here, but you can’t tell them about this note, okay?”

  Adriana’s eyes flicked towards the piece of paper on the table. “You’re not going to involve the police?”

  “I can’t take the risk,” I said, thinking back to the time when The Fish shot a squirrel out of a tree just to prove a point. “This man means what he says, and he says what he means. I have to go alone.”

  She blinked, looking down. “I’m sorry you have to be a part of this.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what The Fish has against me, but this isn’t the first time we’ve run into one another. He’s after something, I just need to find out what before your daughter pays the price. On the bright side, until he gets what he needs from my family, Marissa will be safe.”

  A knock sounded on the door before I could say goodbye, and Adriana’s eyes grew wide. The knock continued, growing louder and more incessant by the second.

  “Are you expecting someone?” I asked, moving slowly towards the door. Standing off to one side, my pulse picked up as I waited for the person on the other side to appear.

  Bang, bang, bangity-bang.

  My fingers tensed, and I regretted my lack of a gun. At least for scare tactics.

  “Here.” Adriana stood up, pulled a huge, long knife out of the kitchen drawer, and handed it over.

  I proceeded to drop it immediately. “I don’t like knives!”