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

by Gina LaManna

  “You know, that’s not a terrible idea.” Clay said thoughtfully. “Extended coverage.”

  “What color is it going to be?”

  “I’m thinking blue.”

  “Blue’s a nice color,” I agreed.

  “Now that you know what I’m working on, tell me your hint,” Clay interrupted. “About the assignment.”

  I closed one eye, thinking of the best way to say something, while still saying nothing at all. “I’m looking for something or someone.”

  “Really.” Clay’s tone was flat. “I’d never have guessed.”

  “Hey, you asked for a hint.” I shrugged. “I’m looking for something. Or someone. That’s all you get, I’m sorry.”

  “Does it have anything to do with this email I just received from Nora? She still doesn’t know how to send a group message, so she sent each person in the family a separate email.” Clay clicked over to his Gmail account. “The title is MANDATORY PERSONALITY ASS. All caps. I told her that sounds like shouting, but she never listens. And what the heck is a personality ass?”

  “I think that should be assessment,” I said. “Probably, she shouldn’t have abbreviated right there.”

  “You think?” Clay smirked. “You’re a terrible liar, by the way. My gut tells me this personality assessment has everything to do with your assignment. I’m showing up to this event, only to see what it’s all about. I don’t like you keeping secrets from me, Lacey Luzzi.”

  “You keep all sorts of secrets from me,” I retorted. “Who’s your lady friend? Why the bulletproof bra? And for Pete’s sake, what the heck are you and Horatio doing on the Internet?”

  At my last question, Clay stood up, nearly toppling the table over. He cracked his knuckles and moved towards the kitchen. I followed him, keeping close behind as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

  “Want one?” he asked, holding it out to me.

  I shook my head.

  “Good, because this is the last one, and you can’t have it.” He pulled the beer close to his chest, popped the top, and took a sip. “And the answer to all those questions is none of your business. I’m the master of secrets, cousin.”

  “How come you get to know all my secrets?” I asked, noticing the smallest hint of a whine creeping into my voice. I did my best to banish it and be an adult. I was technically an adult, I had been for awhile. But sometimes, my inner kid took the wheel and booted me from the driver’s seat.

  “Because I have to know your secrets, so I can rescue you when those same secrets get your ‘personality ass’ into trouble.” Clay shook his head. “That’s why this secret assignment makes me nervous. When you inevitably find yourself tied up, held at gunpoint, or any of the other number of scrapes you’ve been in recently, what am I supposed to do, sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”

  “You could just make me a bulletproof bra.”

  Clay glanced skeptically in my direction. “On you, that wouldn’t help much.”

  “Clay!”

  “What? I’m just saying, the surface area—” Clay guzzled his beer. “Never mind. This conversation is gross. I’m not making you one, end of story.”

  “Fine.” I sighed. “On a completely unrelated note, do you have any information on where Oleg went when he was released from Carlos’s estate?”

  Clay raised an eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”

  “Me.”

  “For an assignment?”

  “Uh—”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Clay narrowed his eyes. “This is getting interesting. I may or may not be tracking Oleg’s every move, but I’d need to know why the information is important. I don’t give out secrets for free.”

  “Did Carlos ask you to follow him?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you tracking him?” I sat down at the kitchen table, trying to puzzle through Clay’s motivations.

  “Here’s a secret.” Clay took a swig of beer. “A good secret keeper knows the secrets when they’re needed.”

  I leaned closer, listening as Clay lowered his voice.

  “But a great secret keeper knows the information before it’s needed. Tell me, what are the chances Carlos – or someone – would want to know information down the line about Oleg? You name the type of info: maybe someone wants to keep tabs on him, find out where he’s working, use him as intel for a future case. What are the chances they’ll want to contact him at some point?”

  “High.”

  “Exactly. So knowing what he’s up to, who he’s talking to, where he sleeps – all of those things – they’re important for a secret keeper like me. Eventually someone will want that information, and they’ll be willing to pay a hefty sum for it.” Clay leaned back in his chair. “You see, cousin, someone who has once threatened the Luzzi family – someone like Oleg – will be forever a threat to the Luzzi name. They don’t get to disappear from our radar.”

  “So you anticipated Carlos would want to follow up with him, so you proactively tracked him as soon as he left the estate. Dang, you’re smart.”

  “Correcto.” Clay gave a nod. “Tell me. If Carlos asks a question and I have the information on hand immediately, how much would he pay?”

  “Probably a lot.”

  “Definitely a lot.” Clay wagged his head back and forth. “Now, say he asked a question and I said I’d let him know in a week.”

  “Probably a lot less.”

  “Definitely a lot less. Or nothing at all, because he could get somebody else to find the information. Carlos doesn’t enjoy working with me, doesn’t even like working with me…” Clay trailed off, beaming with satisfaction. “But he must work with me. Because I’m the best.”

  Clay’s tone gave me goosebumps.

  “And the best informationalist knows that information never pauses, never freezes. My job is ongoing, and the further I think ahead, the better off I’ll be.”

  “Wow.” I sat in stunned silence for a moment, awed by the amount of thought happening in Clay’s brain at any given moment. He was playing a chess game so advanced I didn’t even know the rules.

  “That’s why it irks me beyond belief when you keep secrets that I can’t figure out.” Clay leaned in, tapping a finger against my skull. “I hate when you keep things locked up in there, and then I have to play catch up. It’s very rude.”

  “I’ve been told by more than one person that my manners are something to be desired,” I said, thinking back to The Fish’s similar assessment. “Now…can I get some information on Oleg, or not?”

  “The man hasn’t shown any signs of violence since he’s come off vacation.” Clay finished his beer, then rested his elbows on the table. “He also hasn’t gotten involved in anything illegal, far as I can tell.”

  “I sense there’s a but in here, somewhere.”

  “I’m going to tell you his location, but only because it’s the lesser of two evils. I’ll make you a deal. You check in with me so I know you’re safe, and I’ll tell you where he’s working.” Clay frowned. “Unfortunately, it’s the only way I know to keep tabs on you, and if I don’t give you a bone, I have a feeling that you’ll go bug someone far more dangerous for information, and I won’t be around to help.”

  “That’s a deal.” I’d be willing to accept just about any of Clay’s terms in exchange for information. My deadline loomed closer and closer. I had the rest of Wednesday left to work, and then only one more day until Friday rolled around, Halloween coming with it.

  “Be careful.” Clay’s voice contained a firm warning. “Or I’ll never give you information again.”

  “Fine.”

  “He’s taken a job at a local mechanic’s over on White Bear Avenue. So far, seems like he’s been showing up to work, doing his job, and leaving. He lives a block away in an apartment Carlos set up for him.” Clay smiled. “I managed to get a bug in there before Oleg got situated.”

  “Has he had any visitors?”

  “Seems like the only thing this guy is interested in
is watching all of the “Sopranos’” seasons – over and over again – and heating up pizza bites.”

  “I can’t blame him. Those are both great uses of time.”

  “And harmless.” Clay nodded. “Visit him at work. He’ll be more likely to talk, and his boss is a good guy. Oleg hasn’t shown signs of turning against us yet, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you going to his house alone.”

  I stood up. “Thank you much.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “The mechanic’s shop!” I looked at him. “I wasn’t asking for information just for fun. I’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter 9

  By the time I made something to eat, showered, and put on normal-human clothes, it was closer to dinner than it was lunch. I even splurged and went with some makeup and lip gloss before heading out into the world. Sometimes, information was easier to get when I didn’t look like a walking zombie who’d stuck a fork in the toaster.

  “I’ve never seen anyone get fancier to go to an auto body shop,” Clay said, looking up as I passed through the living room on my way out the door. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “There’s plenty I’m not telling you, but not about my makeup.” I glanced in the microwave, using it as a mirror. “You really think I look fancy?”

  “Well, for you, I guess.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I whipped around, pleased that Clay had noticed my upgraded outfit – a nice pair of jeans, a shirt that wasn’t three sizes too big, and a trace of hair product to complete the package.

  “It’s just, well, you usually wear yoga pants.”

  “Do you have a problem with that?” I crossed my arms. “I mean, look at Veronica, for crying out loud. She’s just sitting around naked, day in and day out.”

  “Don’t bring her into this.” Clay pulled his mannequin protectively closer. “She didn’t do anything to you. You’re just jealous.”

  “How can I be jealous of a mannequin?” I shook my head, stomping towards the door. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  “Will it be tonight?”

  “Yeah, sometime tonight, but I don’t know when.” Still muttering to myself, words like silly, mannequin, and jealous, I jogged down the steps and hopped into my car.

  On second thought, it might’ve been good to bring pepper spray. A gun probably also would’ve worked, but I didn’t own one, first of all. Second of all, it’d be more useless than the pepper spray – at least I’d consider using the latter.

  But I didn’t miss the pepper spray enough to go back and get it, since I didn’t have plans to stay long. I’d drop by the mechanic’s, find out what, if anything, Oleg had been up to, and then move along. I still had to get to Meg’s bar tonight for a discussion about the Haunted House floor plan. The whole Halloween thing wasn’t high on my priority list this year, but keeping Meg happy was on there. In fact, it ranked up there with feeding myself.

  The drive didn’t take long. I parked on a street in front of the repair shop, pointing my vehicle in the direction of the highway. Never knew when a quick getaway would be needed. I touched up my lipstick and buttoned the top snap of my jeans, and I was ready to go.

  As I climbed out of the car, I made an impromptu plan: I would pose as a customer. I could say something was wrong with my car, which would give me an excuse to poke around longer than if I just waltzed in asking for Oleg. Because if the front desk attendant didn’t like me asking questions, I’d be out of luck, and Oleg would be tipped off that I was looking for him.

  I scanned the Lumina. Unfortunately, despite being in a car accident a few days ago, I was hard pressed to find so much as a scratch on the vehicle. Sure, the window had busted, but Carlos must have felt bad, as the glass had somehow magically repaired itself while I’d slept that very same night. The metal boat was more reliable than any car I’d ever owned. I doubted I could break it if I tried. Especially since I had tried.

  Maybe if I could just poke a hole in the tire…

  I took a safety pin from my purse, trying my best to wedge it through the tire, but the rubber didn’t budge. Hmm. It might look suspicious if I started hammering away at a nail, trying to pierce a hole in my tire.

  New plan: engine knock. Every once in a while the engine on my vehicle would shudder, the car would stall out, and I’d be stuck. It always started right back up, so I’d never gotten it fixed. Maybe this was a sign from God that it was time to get my car’s fainting spells checked out, and find Oleg. That’d be twice I’d kill two birds with one stone in the past week. Four birds with two stones wasn’t a bad ratio, either.

  “Hi,” I said, walking up to the counter, satisfied with my new plan. “I have a problem with my vehicle.”

  “Which one’s yours?” A bored looking man with graying hair, probably twenty years older than me, placed a clipboard on the counter. “Fill that out.”

  “The Lumina,” I pointed. “It kind of…faints, sometimes.”

  The man looked at me like I was crazy. His name tag said Fred. “Just fill out the paperwork.”

  “Thanks, Fred,” I said. Again, he looked up as if I were crazy, but I gestured towards his gray jumpsuit. “Your name tag says Fred, that’s how I know.”

  “Oh, I borrowed this. Name’s Gary.”

  “Oh.” I looked down as he wandered away from the front desk, into the privacy of the back room. “Thanks, Gary.”

  I sat down, quickly lied my way through the form, then waited patiently for Gary to return. After twenty minutes, he still hadn’t appeared, so I stood up and approached the counter. Another three minutes waiting at the counter, and my legs started to hurt. Jeans weren’t the greatest for just standing around.

  Impatience got the better of me, and I rang the little bell on the counter. A light clink echoed through the shop, but nobody appeared to help.

  I was just debating ringing it again after another five minutes, when Gary strolled back in, rubbing his face and yawning as if just waking from a nap.

  “Hi, what do you need?” Gary asked.

  “Uh, you just gave me paperwork to fill out.” I bit my lip to keep from letting annoyance creep into my voice. I needed him on my side, after all. Needed him to give me information. “Can I turn it in?”

  “Just leave it on the counter. It’s almost six, so we won’t get to it today.”

  I looked at my watch. It was five o’clock. “Oh, okay. Could you maybe take a look at it quickly and give me an estimate?”

  Gary had turned back towards the office once more, and I threw out the question as a last ditch attempt to keep him from disappearing.

  He hesitated, the look on his face saying he wanted nothing to do with my car. “Fine.”

  “You really need to work on your bedside manner,” I blurted, unable to stop myself. “I just asked for a little bit of help. Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

  The mechanic blinked. “I suppose.”

  “You suppose?” I turned away. “Fine, I’ll take my business somewhere else if it’ll be too much trouble.” I lowered my voice, muttering something about the terrible reviews that I’d be leaving online. When he heard the name Yelp, Gary cleared his throat.

  Suddenly, his agitation gave me a new tactic.

  “Crappy customer service,” I muttered, louder this time.

  Gary didn’t seem to be the owner of this place. He had a cushy job as a manager, napping in the back room while a few other men in jumpsuits toiled away in the garage. Complaints about his customer service might make his boss upset, and I was willing to bet Gary didn’t have a desire to go back to working on cars, when he could be playing Candy Crush on his phone, moving his rear end only when a customer rang the bell twice.

  “No, wait, ma’am—” Gary called out.

  I continued walking towards the door, tossing only the smallest glance over my shoulder to see if he would follow me. He did.

  “No, you seem busy.” I went heavy on the disgruntled customer to
ne, pushing the front door open and stomping down the steps. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

  “Wait, lady—”

  “My name’s not lady.” I whipped around. “If you’d read my form, you’d see that it was Sarah.”

  “I’m sorry, Sarah.” Gary shook his head. “I’m having a rough day. Wife left me last week, and I’m still in a bit of a funk. Hard to be cheerful, you know?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to decide if he was lying or being honest. I’d feel a little bad if his wife really had left him, but if he paid her as much attention as he’d paid me at the counter, I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  “Let me make it up to you.” Gary gestured towards the Lumina. “We’ll fix your car for the price of parts, and I’ll charge you twenty percent of the labor costs – just enough to cover the workers’ salaries. No profit for us on this one.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “You’d do that?”

  “If you’ll leave a nice review and kindly forget to mention that I’m a jackass.” A smile twisted on Gary’s lips.

  I couldn’t help but offer a reluctant smile back. “All right, I think that’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Gary nodded. “Now, Sarah, maybe I can take a peek at your car?”

  “That’d be lovely.”

  After fifteen minutes of head scratching and puzzled expressions, Gary looked up. “I just can’t seem to find anything wrong. It looks like someone tried to hack at your tire with a safety pin or something, but other than that there’s hardly a scratch.”

  “What about the engine knock?” I asked. “The car just stops moving sometimes.”

  “Well, I don’t see anything wrong. I’ll take it for a few test drives over the course of the next day or so, but unless the stalling event happens while I’m driving, it’ll be hard to say what’s wrong.”

  “Hmm.” I pretended to be puzzled. “That’s strange.”

  “What’s strange?”

  “I met one of your mechanics the other day at a restaurant, bumped into each other while eating lunch, and we got to talking. He said to bring my car in to this location because he might be able to fix it.”