Lacey Luzzi: S'mored: A humorous, cozy mystery! (Lacey Luzzi Mafia Mysteries Book 5)

by Gina LaManna

  “Yeah, in a second. My arms are full, plus I’m hungry.” Meg heaved her way past me as I unlocked the front door, bursting into the spacious kitchen. “You hungry? ’Cause we didn’t pick up three rotisserie chickens just to sit around and sniff ’em all night.”

  “I am starving,” I said, as my stomach roared loud enough to drown out my own thoughts.

  It didn’t take either of us long to unpack the chickens. We forgot about unpacking the rest of our things, and instead divided the drumsticks somewhat evenly between the two of us. We dug right into the meal while standing at the island in the center of the kitchen. Traveling took a lot out of us, judging by the silence that descended on the room as we ate. Although Meg and I didn’t agree on everything in life, it was mutually understood that when given the option between eating and talking – eating always came first.

  Usually nothing interrupted a meal, but when a thump sounded outside the front door, I laid down my chicken leg, feeling a chill creep over my spine.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked Meg.

  “Are you implying I passed gas?” She looked up from her plate, pausing as she gnawed on a wing. “Because I most certainly did – but that was like five minutes ago. You’re late to the party.”

  “No, it sounds like there’s someone – or something – outside.” I meandered over to the front hallway and peeked out the long window next to the door. “There’s a car out front. One that’s not mine.”

  “Your car isn’t yours, to be fair,” Meg pointed out. “It’s stolen. Technically it belongs to someone else.”

  “There’s another car here besides the Lumina.” I ignored the whole stolen thing for now. “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t invite any guests.”

  “I see that accusing look you’re sending me, and you can stop that right now because I didn’t invite guests, either,” Meg said. “If anything, I un-invited people. I have a guest list of negative one, seeing’s how I scared Anthony away.”

  “Then who knows we’re here?”

  “Eh,” Meg shrugged and resumed devouring her dinner. “This is Carlos’s place. Isn’t it bulletproof and helicopter-proof? If so, we can deal with the car dealie-bob once I’m done getting my strength up with some much needed calories.”

  “Yeah, but those safety features for Carlos won’t help us if the person gets inside.” I shoved up my sleeves. “I’m gonna go investigate.”

  “You got a gun?” Meg asked.

  “Of course not,” I said, trying my best to sound appalled at the notion. “I’m on vacation. And anyway, it’s probably just a local friend of Nora’s stopping by, kind of like a neighborhood watch. They probably don’t recognize my car, so they’re just checking out the visitors and making sure we’re okay.”

  “They don’t recognize it because it’s not your car,” Meg called after me as I stomped towards the front door. “It’s stolen, for the hundredth time!”

  I didn’t bother to respond this time, instead focusing on pumping myself up to open the door. It’s just the neighbor, I told myself. It’s just the neighbor.

  I couldn’t see anything at first as I peeked through the window, but after a second of waiting and watching, my heart nearly stopped beating as three men appeared from around the corner of the porch, approaching the flimsy screen door.

  “Meg?” I called, my voice a little shaky. “We’ve got company.”

  “Dang nab it. I got two legs left to eat. I’m not happy about this disruption.”

  I turned my attention back to the men, sizing up their appearances. One of them was short and well-groomed – he stood closest to the front, and I guessed he would be the talker of the group. The man next to him was tall and lean, but the super-skinny sort of lean – not the trim and in-shape kind of slim. The third guest was just plain ol’ big all around. He stood over six feet tall, was plenty wide and plenty round, and he wore an expression about as interesting as a soggy noodle.

  I went with my gut on this one and opened the door an inch, leaving the chain in place. I didn’t get the dangerous vibe from these men. If anything, all I felt was confused.

  “Hi there,” I said. “May I help you?”

  The short, well-groomed man spoke. He was a smaller version of Mario Lopez, with eyebrows tweezed to distinct, fake arcs, hair gelled so tightly it could’ve been a wig, and skin that shimmered with a not-especially-human sort of sheen.

  “I am Marco,” mini Mario Lopez said.

  “Hi, Marco,” I said.

  Marco slapped the big guy on the shoulder. “And this is Alfie.”

  “Hi, Alfie,” I said, looking up at the boulder of a man.

  “The little one is Dan.” Another slap from Marco, this one on the arm of the skinny rail, who swayed dangerously close to the edge of the steps.

  “Hi, Dan,” I said, the man wobbling like a water-logged Twizzler.

  Luckily, Dan righted himself and reached an emaciated arm forward. “Hey, girl. ’Sup?”

  “’Sup,” I said, more confused than ever. “What are you guys doing here?”

  Despite the harmless greetings, I’d begun to panic slightly. My heart raced and my palms turned sweaty. These guys didn’t exactly seem like the killer-type, but they still hadn’t given me a good reason for showing up here unannounced, either.

  Before any of the three visitors could speak, Meg appeared behind my shoulder. I relaxed ever so slightly as she cleared her throat as loudly as a roaring lion, making her presence plenty known. However, any relaxing on my end disappeared when I felt the thunk of her large, ugly gun landing on my shoulder. I tensed right back up, too stiff with shock to move.

  “Spit it out,” Meg growled. “My girlfriend asked you a question. And I’m also curious to know the answer as to why you’re here, since I’m busy eating some rosemary roasted chicken that I got on sale from the rotisserie thing, and I’m kind of grumpy about not having some in my mouth right now.”

  “Meg – the gun,” I said. “Not necessary.”

  “How do you know?” She sighed. “Unfortunately, these clowns ain’t girl scouts. If they were, I’d accept cookies as a bribe to put the gun away.”

  “Please, put the gun down. You’re getting rotisserie grease on my shirt,” I wanted to gesture towards where Meg had rested the gun on my shoulder, but I was too afraid the thing would misfire. Meg glanced at the gun, which was indeed slick and shiny with rosemary scented chicken grease.

  And now, so was my shirt.

  “Come on,” I said. “You heard the woman. Tell us why you’re here or I’ll let her shoot just so I can go take a shower.”

  “Ms. Nora Luzzi invited us.” Marco eyed the gun warily, but to his credit, he didn’t give away any signs of terror. Maybe it was the botox and the painted-on eyebrows, but even so, I was impressed.

  “Oh, no,” I said. “No, no, no – she didn’t.”

  “Yes,” Marco parroted, “yes, yes, yes – she did.”

  I eyed them in a fresh light. Mini Mario seemed serious. And I wouldn’t put it past Nora to “forget” to mention that she’d invited three Italian men the same weekend Meg and I planned to arrive at the cabin.

  I crossed my arms. “How do we know you aren’t lying? You could’ve found Nora’s name on the mailbox. How do we know you’re not psycho killers? Or people with a hankering to steal our chicken and run?”

  “We’re not psycho,” Marco said, which didn’t help with my uneasiness. He hadn’t said they weren’t killers. Or hankering to steal my chicken, for that matter. “In addition, I have proof of Nora’s invitation. She said you’d be skeptical.”

  “Oh, you do?” Meg raised her au naturale eyebrows. “What sort of proof?”

  “Yes. Ms. Nora said to tell Lacey that…” Marco cleared his throat and paused, as if waiting for a drumroll. “Nora said you might want to use your gift from her while I’m here.”

  Mini-Mario Lopez gave a small bow. When he returned to my shoulder level, he was smiling pleasantly. I frowned with a fur
y I hadn’t felt in a while. I knew Nora had an ulterior motive when she’d slipped me the lingerie.

  “It’s not okay?” Marco asked, his thick accent even stronger as concern etched onto his brows. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s not your fault. But I am sorry about the mix-up,” I said, waving a hand, unlatching the chain on the door and putting my hands firmly on my hips. “To clarify, I will not be using that present. At all, let alone on you. Sorry.”

  “Ooh, a present? What is it? I love presents.” The gun wavered as Meg peeked around to get a better look at the men.

  “It’s nothing,” I said. “I’m sorry again about the mixed signals, but you guys should just grab a hotel for tonight.”

  “We can’t stay here?” Marco shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I think Nora might call my father if you turn us away. Then my father would be upset and call Carlos. My father would tell Carlos that his granddaughter isn’t hospitable for family members. Is a problem, yes?”

  I couldn’t quite follow Marco’s explanation of the Family tree, so I paused. In the off chance turning these men away would upset family ties, I didn’t want to be the one held responsible. With a grumble, I held Marco’s gaze.

  “I’ll call Nora. If she says she sent you, you can stay. If she doesn’t know you, Meg is allowed to shoot. You have a ten-minute head start, as I have a few words I need to say to Nora.”

  I turned around and took a step back into the house to make the phone call in private. I glanced over my shoulder, startled as the men began to follow me inside.

  “Whoa, whoa, hold on. Nobody’s coming in ’til Nora says so.” I whipped my cell phone out and nodded at Meg. “Watch them.”

  “My pleasure,” she grunted, swaying the gun in their direction. She was so close to picking Alfie’s nose with the barrel of the gun that I almost told her to step back. But I didn’t.

  “Hey Nora, this is Lacey,” I said, walking out of earshot. “Did you send three stooges up to visit the cabin?” I paused and listened as Nora rattled off a few descriptions that accurately matched our guests. “Yeah, there’s one here with the fake eyebrows. Names are Marco, Alfie, and Dan.”

  Nora continued to describe Alfie and Dan perfectly, and I cast a disappointed glance at the men as my grandmother confirmed my worst suspicions. I noticed Meg eyeing up the big one – Alfie – as if he held some strange appeal.

  “Why did you invite them, Auntie Nora?” I groaned. “I’m not interested in these men.”

  “Dear, you said you were open to something happening. Marco and friends happened to be in the area. Who knows? Maybe it’s fate!”

  “It’s definitely not fate,” I said. “Definitely not.”

  “Let them stay for one night, dear. Just one. I promise they’re harmless, and it will help smooth over some ties for Carlos,” she said. “Please.”

  “This sounds dangerous,” I said. “I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t be so harsh and cynical, Lacey. Men don’t appreciate that. One night. Please.”

  “Fine. They can stay one night. One,” I said.

  “Don’t forget the present I gave you,” Nora said, her voice high-pitched. “Maybe you can test it on them.”

  “Not a chance,” I said.

  “Well, fate has a way of working itself out,” Nora said. “I’ll let you go now, dear. Have fun.”

  “I’ll work fate out,” I grumbled, turning back to Meg.

  I should have just told my grandparents about Anthony and me. That way, this whole debacle could’ve been prevented. But when presented with the right opportunity, I’d panicked, all because of the dreaded baby talk. And now I had the King of Unibrows over here, asking to see my lingerie outfit.

  “No luck?” Meg asked, as I stomped back to the door.

  I frowned at the men. “You three are allowed to stay here one night. And you’re sleeping on the second floor far, far away from us. My door will be locked. And I have a gun.” That last part was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that.

  “Thank you, Lacey,” Marco said, bending to one knee and grasping wildly for my hand. He planted a sloppy kiss on the back of my wrist. “I will win your heart over, I promise.”

  “No thanks,” I said. “I have a boyfriend. In fact, he might be here tomorrow.”

  Meg raised her eyebrow at me. I shrugged at her in a sort of go with it vibe.

  “Alfie,” Meg said, waggling her eyebrows. “In case you’re wondering, my door will be open tonight.”

  Chapter 6

  The Three Musketeers clattered through the house, lugging their Meg-sized suitcases upstairs. I’d barely had time to explore, and already we had visitors. As I sulked in the entryway behind them, I took in the lay of the land myself.

  The format of the cabin was simple. The screen door led straight into a hallway that ran through the middle of the place. Off to the left of the hall sat a closet, opposite the kitchen where our chicken lay cooling on the counter.

  The kitchen had obviously been redone years after the place had been built, based on the modern, stainless-steel appliances. The rest of the cabin had the old-timey feel of a countryside getaway, though somehow Nora had combined the two styles successfully. For the life of me I couldn’t guess why she’d wanted to redo the kitchen. Cooking was not one of her talents.

  Meg and I quickly scoped out the best bedrooms downstairs, staking our claims while the boys struggled to haul their suitcases upstairs. As I moved my belongings into one of many bedrooms, I called across the hall to Meg, who was setting up her room a few doors down.

  “Yo. Meg, do you have the Target bag with my pajamas? I had it in the car.”

  “No,” she hollered back. “I can’t find anything in my own bags, let alone yours!”

  I dug through my bag, unable to find my pajamas. “Dang. I must have left them in the car.”

  A few footsteps later, and Meg appeared in my doorway. She wore what could only be described as a frilly, over-sized doily. Her leopard print undergarments shown through with unfortunate clarity.

  “Everything you brought on this trip is see-through, huh?” I asked.

  “This ain’t see-through,” Meg said. “It’s couture.”

  “Oh, sorry. My mistake.” I looked closer for the name of the brand, but couldn’t find anything. “Couture by who?”

  “It’s knockoff couture, inspired by the real thing. I bought it out of your cousin Joey’s trunk. He had a bunch of real sweet deals. You should pick yourself up a purse from him and replace that nasty black thing you got. He had some real pretty ones in bright yellow.”

  “Yeah, I’ll have to check it out,” I said, unconvinced. “So you haven’t seen my pajamas?”

  “No. And I’d check the car for you, but I don’t want to risk getting dirt on my couture pajamas.”

  “I’ll go look,” I said, stuffing a T-shirt back in my bag. “Thanks, though.”

  “I actually wouldn’t be that sad if you forgot your pajamas, though. They’re no fun at all. They’re flannel and huge.” Taking a step closer, she dropped her voice. “Chickadee, we’ve got eligible men in this house. None of this sweatshirt and sweatpants crap. Your cousin Joey might have some extra couture he could give you a discount on.”

  “Meg,” I hissed. “Anthony. I’m dating Anthony. Even if the men are eligible, I’m not.”

  “Hmph. Even if you’re taken, that doesn’t mean you should give up on life. I’m being your best friend now and giving you some tough love. Ms. Lacey Luzzi, I will have an intervention if you glue sweatpants to your rear end.” Meg shook her head sadly. “You should follow my example. I dress to make myself happy.”

  “Anthony fell in lov—” I paused at the dreaded L-word. “Er, Anthony fell for me just the way I am. Yoga pants and all.”

  “I’m only saying, just ’cause you’re in a relationship doesn’t mean you should stop trying,” Meg said. “Who knows? Maybe Anthony will be so turned on by my sexy attire that he’ll try and come o
nto me, and I’ll have to drop kick his ass. That wouldn’t be good, huh?”

  “Yeah, that probably won’t happen.” I started walking down the hall. “Him and I, we’re committed to each other now.”

  “I’m just saying,” Meg said, following me into the hallway. She pulled up to a short stop. “Hang on a second, Lace. You say your PJs were in a plastic bag? On second thought, I might’ve seen them. In fact, I remember thinking that Target bag was full of garbage. If you find my leftover Taco Bell mixed in with your pajamas, it was an accident. I swear.”

  I groaned. Impossible. Not my favorite yellow sweatshirt. I’d just replaced the original that’d blown up in my first mission for Carlos. The poor thing couldn’t catch a break.

  “It’s a blessing in disguise!” Meg called after me. “Just remember, there’s always Walmart couture!”

  I jogged down the front steps of the porch and up the short path to where the sturdy Lumina sat parked. I’d originally sold my soul to Carlos at a chance for a little Kia, but that had also been lost in the fiery aftermath of a bomb, an all-too-frequent occurrence with my new job.

  Beeping the car open, I peeked around the yard to make sure none of our visitors were outside – smoking or talking or drinking – or whatever it is men do at night when they’re bored. I didn’t want to be surprised by Mini-Mario Lopez while digging for my PJs.

  Thankfully, the place was silent.

  I slipped to the other side of the Lumina to get a better look at the vehicle the Italians had driven out here. A tiny little Fiat, it was a wonder that the big guy, Alfie, could fit in there at all. I imagined him having to be folded up into a pretzel and placed in the back seat, and I stifled a smile at the image.

  As I reached for the Lumina, a crack sounded behind me. I swiveled around, my heart pounding audibly in the quiet night.

  There wasn’t a soul in sight.

  My fingers twitched with anxiety. The cabin was tucked back from the road, surrounded by thick, gnarly woods, except for the backyard. The lawn behind the house led straight towards the menacing, inky black lake. The tree leaves rustled under the dark sky, and the whole moment took a turn for the eerie.