Lacey Luzzi: Spooked: A humorous, cozy mystery! (Lacey Luzzi Mafia Mysteries Book 6)

by Gina LaManna

  “You didn’t see who it was by chance, did you?” I asked.

  “What, am I supposed to do everything in this relationship?” Meg looked exasperated. “At least I noticed the car. What did you contribute?”

  “That was a great catch,” I admitted. “I was occupied.”

  “By your coffee?”

  “It’s a good coffee!” I said, a defensive edge to my voice.

  “So how you gonna get rid of him?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe he’ll just disappear.”

  “It’s unhealthy to think that things just disappear.” Meg patted her stomach. “I always tend to think donuts just disappear, but that’s a lie. They appear again, except on my thighs.”

  “Tell me about it.” I turned the car down a narrow side street, a small detour to see if it might be easy as pie to shake our tail.

  It wasn’t.

  Then again, I didn’t think baking pies was all that easy, anyway. The saying was a myth, at least at Casa Luzzi.

  “Bummer. What now?” I looked at Meg.

  “Well, you could let me drive.” Meg’s eyes brightened at the thought. “Remember that one time in your Kia when we shot all around the city? That time we were running away from Carlos’s guys. Didn’t even know you were related yet.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “We got away, didn’t we?” Meg raised her eyebrows.

  “Yes, but I barely had my life at the end of it.” My palms sweated just remembering the chase, Meg shooting from one alley to the next, nearly tipping the car on its side.

  “It’s funny in retrospect.” She chuckled.

  “Not really.” I almost gave myself heart palpitations from the anxiety, just thinking about it.

  “You have no sense of adventure.” Meg shook her head. “Well, let’s look at the facts. This guy is an amateur. He’s clearly never followed someone before, and I’m doubtful he’s ever driven a vehicle. Normally a person leaves a little bit of room, but this guy is practically running you down.”

  “What’s with the hazards and the windshield wipers?” I squinted in my rearview mirror. “He’s not what I would call inconspicuous. I’d notice this car whether he was following us or not.”

  “Maybe he’s just an amateur human being. Or maybe he’s from a foreign country that doesn’t have modernized cars. Or he’s an alien life form. Or maybe – this is probably the most likely case – he’s been kept in a bubble all his life. A huge, literal bubble. Thoughts?”

  “Oh, my gosh.” I slammed on the brakes, flicked on my blinker, and pulled onto the side of the road in a quaint, residential area somewhere between St. Paul and Minneapolis.

  “What are you doing?” Meg tsked. “Save the fancy stuff for the pros. My stomach’s gurgling, so take things easy, please.”

  “I think I know who it is.” I barely managed to get the words out before all hell broke loose.

  The old pickup truck that’d been tailing us careened off the road, pulling onto the side of the street behind our car. The problem was that the truck never stopped moving.

  With an earsplitting screech, the driver cruised full force ahead, pummeling into the back of the Lumina. Glass shattered, our vehicle shot forward, and my life flashed before my eyes.

  The small, beat-up red truck hadn’t even tried to brake by the looks of things. The crash jolted us hard, my head knocking against the steering wheel. Meg braced herself against the dash, flopping around, her grip on the bag of donuts never wavering.

  “Are you okay?” I gasped, once the car had settled and it was quiet once again. “Meg? Meg!”

  My best friend had curled into a ball, and wasn’t responding. I reached over and shook her shoulder. My head throbbed and I had a cut above my eye, but I was fine. The truck had been going relatively slowly, and the Lumina, fortunately, was a tank.

  Meg suddenly sprang to life at my touch. “Got it!”

  “Got what?” I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to slow my racing heart.

  “Your donut. I protected it. Not even a sprinkle out of place.” Meg, without a scratch on her, proudly handed the bag over to me.

  I exhaled loudly. “Cripes, you scared me! Next time say something.”

  “No prob. Say, your head is bleeding. Careful not to get it on your shirt.”

  “Thanks for your concern.” I tried not to sound sarcastic.

  “Always. I got my priority ducks in a row.”

  I paused, trying to figure out her “saying” as she skimmed her hands over my dash.

  “Well, in case you were wondering, the airbags don’t work.” Meg looked up at me. “That’s good to know.”

  “Would have been better to know before we crashed.” Amidst the chaos from being rammed in the behind by a truck, I’d totally forgotten about the truck itself, at least while ensuring Meg’s and my safety. “Where’s the guy who hit us?”

  “If you tell me that turd ran away from the scene of the crime, I’m gonna hunt him down, cut off his—”

  “What will you cut off?” Carlos stood next to the window of the Lumina, having materialized from nowhere.

  The windows had shattered in the crash, so when I turned to look at my grandfather, there was nothing between us. Which meant he’d heard Meg’s entire threat.

  “Carlos?” I said, not entirely surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just a quick PSA interruption. For the layperson, that means Pubic Service Announcement—” Meg started.

  “That’s public!” I quickly corrected.

  Meg stuck a finger up in the air, unfazed. She leaned into my lap and stared Carlos in the eye, trying to turn her threat into something less...threatening. “I didn’t cut off the statue’s digits, that’s all I wanted to say. I certainly wasn’t threatening you, Carlos, my man.”

  “Which statue?” Carlos raised an eyebrow.

  “Don’t ask me.” Meg sat back in her seat. “Lacey’s fault.”

  “Lacey?” Carlos looked to me.

  “Hang on a second. Why are you dressed like that?” I now processed the fact that Carlos wore a fedora on his head. And large sunglasses on his face. “Why were you driving the truck?”

  Carlos’s expression turned uneasy.

  “Trying to drive is more accurate,” Meg mumbled. “Trying and failing.”

  “What were you thinking?” I raised a hand in my grandfather’s direction. “You could have gotten us hurt, or worse. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Carlos’s eyes traveled to my forehead. “And you?”

  “Of course he’s okay.” Meg looked at her nails. “I think Carlos is part robot. Probably The Terminator was autobiographical about him.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, ignoring my friend and swiping blood from my head. “But what were you thinking?”

  “I needed to talk to you.”

  My jaw dropped open. “How about a phone call next time?”

  “Yeah, or how about we were just at your house like, two seconds ago?” Meg shrugged. “Lacey’s not that scary to talk to in person. Well, except for first thing in the morning. She can be pretty grouchy then.”

  “You don’t understand.” Carlos’s voice dropped low and he carefully leaned through my broken window. “We need to talk in private. Utter secrecy is required.”

  “What about the estate? That’s probably the safest place I know,” I suggested.

  Carlos shook his head, a darkness clouding his eyes that sent chills down my spine. If the estate wasn’t safe, then I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what Carlos had to say.

  “No. Somewhere private. Just you and me.”

  “The laundromat?” I suggested. “Ask Anthony to come by if you want extra ears and protection.”

  This time when Carlos shook his head, he garnered even Meg’s attention.

  “Carlos, what’s going on?” My voice trembled, and I swiped with nervous energy at the blood drying on my face. “Why did you follow us? Why can’t you trust anyone?”

  “Not h
ere. Where?” Carlos asked. “Somewhere completely private.”

  “My apartment?” I shrugged. “I’m running out of places. I’ve listed all the secure ones I know.”

  “No, no, those won’t work.” Carlos’s voice rose with aggravation. “Somewhere nobody will know me.”

  I wanted to press him for more information, to make him disclose what was going on before agreeing to anything. But there was something different about Carlos, something that frightened me to the tips of my toes.

  Carlos had been in the vehicle alone. My grandfather never traveled alone. All sorts of warning flags went off in my brain, telling me not to get involved. But when it came to a battle between common sense and curiosity, the latter won out.

  “There’s always Shotz,” Meg said, out of the blue. She looked disinterested, still picking at her nails. “Nobody knows Carlos there, and I run a tight ship. Anyone I don’t like, I kick out. Plus, it’s not a busy time now. I can rope off the side room if you guys want. Just so long as you don’t cramp my style when the beer tub girls arrive.”

  I blinked, defaulting to Carlos. I’d let him say no. I could not see my grandfather setting foot in a bar like Meg’s.

  “Fine.” Carlos gestured towards the vehicle. “Let’s go.”

  “A thank you wouldn’t kill you, ya know.” Meg glanced up, completely unfazed at the idea of scolding Carlos for bad manners.

  To my surprise, Carlos gave a quick bow of his head. “Thank you.” He didn’t look up from his shoes, but it was a start.

  “So in terms of getting there…are you going to follow us?” I glanced in the rearview mirror at the now crumpled and smoking truck. “Do you need directions?”

  “Er, my vehicle is currently indisposed. I’ll have my men pick it up.” Carlos cleared his throat. “I’ll ride with you.”

  “Sure, if you don’t mind the back.” Meg nodded towards the rear seat. “I’m not moving.”

  Carlos, without a word, opened the rear door of the perfectly intact Lumina and climbed inside.

  “Where did you learn how to drive?” Meg asked my grandfather, as I pulled forward onto the road. “Because you seemed pretty new at it.”

  “I never drive.” Carlos looked out the window. “Never once since I came to this country.”

  “I can give you lessons, if you like,” Meg offered. “For a minimal fee.”

  “Minimal?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “How about one million dollars?”

  “No.” Carlos shook his head.

  “Two million?” Meg asked.

  Carlos waited a beat, probably waiting to see if she was serious. Knowing my best friend, she wasn’t joking.

  “No,” Carlos said finally.

  “Well, turd.” Meg rapped her fingers against the dashboard. “I open up my bar to you, and I get no love in return.”

  “I appreciate it.” I reached over and patted my friend on the leg.

  “Thanks, but you don’t tip.” Meg looked in the backseat. “Do you tip?”

  Carlos looked at me through the rearview mirror. I was willing to bet he’d never been interrogated so thoroughly in his life. And certainly not by a woman.

  “Just say yes.” I told Carlos.

  “Yes,” Carlos said. “I tip well.”

  “Good,” Meg said. “Welcome to Shotz.”

  Chapter 4

  The drive was interesting, to say the least.

  For starters, I’d never chauffeured Carlos before, and it turns out he is the worst backseat driver in the world.

  “There’s a car in front of you, Lacey.” His knuckles gripped the seat so hard they turned white.

  “It’s three miles away!” I gestured and the car swerved slightly.

  “Lacey, they’re braking.”

  “Carlos, they’re still three miles away.”

  “Lacey, did you use your blinker?”

  I sighed, thankful for Meg’s running chatter. I’d never realized she would be so interested in a conversation with my grandfather. She bombarded him, one question after another, from the time we pulled away from the crash to the moment we walked into the bar.

  “Well, it was nice talking,” Meg said with a wave, as she guided us through the front door. “Take a seat in the far corner. You know the private booth, Lace. I’ll grab us a few beverages and join you in a moment.”

  Carlos and I made ourselves comfortable in the “private booth.” It sat far across the room, a spot built for secret conversations, whispered promises, and unsigned agreements. True to form, Meg blocked our section off, though it wasn’t as if there were any other patrons in the bar.

  “Does her mouth ever get exhausted from speaking?” Carlos shook his head. “My jaw hurts just listening after one car ride.”

  “She’s interested in you.” I rested my hands on the table. “Take it as a compliment. She doesn’t ask just anyone so many questions.”

  Carlos considered this a moment. He reached up and fingered his fedora, adjusting his dark shades.

  “You can probably remove the sunglasses. We are inside.” I gestured towards the ceiling.

  “It’s a disguise.”

  “Not a great one, if I’m being honest. I can tell that it’s you under there.” Except for the hat and sunglasses, everything about Carlos was exactly as normal.

  He wore a suit so expensive my wallet shuddered just thinking about it, and his shoes were shined bright enough to add wattage to the bar. I was certain that underneath the fedora, his handsomely graying hair remained styled to perfection.

  Though the man was petite in stature, nothing about his personality was small. He reeked of power, confidence, and money, which made everything about his being inside Shotz a little bit funny. Shotz, a perfect bar for Meg, wasn’t the usual venue Carlos frequented. Seeing my grandfather out of his element always shocked my system, reminding me that he was, in fact, a human being – despite all of Meg’s extensive robot theories.

  “So what’s going on?” I asked. “What’s with this sudden urge to crash into your granddaughter’s car?”

  “Someone’s breached my security team.” Carlos leaned over the table, his voice so low I strained to hear it. “I don’t know who to trust.”

  “So out of everyone, all your men and family and friends, you picked me?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

  Carlos sat back, his face a bit confused. “Good question, when you say it like that.”

  I frowned.

  “I suppose, somewhere deep inside,” Carlos swallowed, as if what he had to say was difficult, “I trust you. You, Lacey…” he shook his finger at me. “You make many mistakes. Millions of them.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “You make messes, you screw up, you cause all sorts of trouble—”

  “This is a wonderful conversation,” I said, a smile frozen on my face.

  “You’re not qualified for your job, you tend to overlook things, but…” Carlos paused, a small smile interrupting his message. “Somehow you make it work. I don’t know what they call it…um—”

  “Common sense?” I tried.

  “Nope, not that. Definitely not that.” Carlos shook his head.

  “Determination?”

  “Nope, not that either.” Carlos pressed a finger to his lip in thought. “Grit. That’s what I’m looking for – grit. I respect that in a man.”

  “Well, I’m a woman, but—”

  “You’ve got grit, Lacey.”

  I decided to stop correcting Carlos and go with the flow. Compliments from him were rare, even of the backhanded variety.

  “Have you told Anthony about the suspected breach?” I asked.

  “That would defeat the purpose of what I’m asking you to do.”

  I waited for an elaboration, but it never came. I cleared my throat. “What are you asking me to do?”

  Carlos took two long inhales. “I need you to look into a situation for me.”

  “I’m going to need more information tha
n that.”

  Carlos sighed. “We, the Luzzi Family, have several income streams, as you may have guessed. One of them comes from watching things.”

  “Things? Like…what sort of things?”

  “Precious items. Expensive items.” Carlos’s eyes flicked around the bar as he spoke. “We hold a reputation of utmost professionalism. Our security force is one of the best in the United States, if not the world. We have never had a security breach. For a high price, we are one of the most secure ‘storage’ facilities in the world.”

  “That’s impressive.” I waited for the other shoe to drop, wondering where in the world Carlos was storing all of his precious loot.

  “Until yesterday.”

  “Ah…”

  Carlos leaned forward, resting all ten fingers on the table top, gripping the wood so hard I could see the veins in his hands. “I have reason to believe that we are the target of a master thief.”

  “Carlos, I’m not sure how to say this,” I paused, “but you’re the target of many people. I’m sure this isn’t the first time someone’s been after you. In fact, I know it’s not.”

  “No, but this time it’s different. Something was stolen. Something of incredible value.” Carlos’s eyes burned with anger. “And it doesn’t belong to me. Do you know what this means for the Luzzi Family name if word gets out?”

  “Uh, we’ll be toast?”

  “Toast? Lacey, not everything is about food.” Carlos shook his head. “We’ll be destroyed. Utterly, completely obliterated. Nobody will trust us any longer. Trust means everything to me.”

  “That’s what I meant by toast,” I said with a shrug. “It’s a saying.”

  “Enough with the food! Order something if you’re hungry.”

  I reminded myself that English was not Carlos’s first language, and it wouldn’t be the first time a saying had been lost on him. Trying to be patient, I gave a small smile. “I’m full, thanks. What were you saying?”

  “I heard someone wanted toast.” Meg appeared out of nowhere, standing beside our table with two drinks. “Here you go, Carlos. Didn’t have any of that fancy limoncello business, so I just gave you some Bud Light.”