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

by Gina LaManna

  “Do you remember his name?” Gary gestured towards the garage. “I can grab him, if he’s in today.”

  “It started with an O,” I said. “Not Oliver, something more foreign. Olick, or something.”

  “Oleg?”

  “Yeah, that’s probably it.” I squinted, as if trying to remember. “Is he in today?”

  “Yeah, I just saw him before you got here. Let me go grab him.”

  My heart raced. I hadn’t really thought this far ahead. What would I say to Oleg? I could ask how things had been going, say that Carlos wanted me to check in with him. But on the same point, I didn’t want to make him skittish.

  Oleg was the type of guy who worked for other men, the men with real power. Men like The Fish. I’d rather keep Oleg close and watch his every move. Because if I scared him away, it wouldn’t solve the problem and I’d be back to square one. I had to tread lightly.

  Or, I would’ve had to tread lightly, if Oleg had been around.

  “He’s not here, must’ve slipped out for a bite to eat or something.” Gary tilted his head. “He’s not supposed to leave without saying something to me, but every once in a while the guys run down to the Dairy Queen and grab a hot dog.”

  “There’s a Dairy Queen?”

  “Sure is. Few blocks that way.”

  “Interesting,” I said, for lack of something better to say. “So he’ll be back today?”

  Gary nodded. “Main shop’s only open for another thirty minutes. But tonight, Oleg and I were gonna do a few specialty repairs on a restored Mach 1 Mustang for a private client. Make a few extra bucks on the side, if you know what I mean. We agreed to meet back at the shop around ten after a dinner break.”

  “So, I should wait here?”

  “You can.” Gary shrugged. “No telling if he’ll know what’s wrong with the car though. I’ve serviced my fair share of Luminas in the day, and I’m telling you this one is pristine.”

  “Oh, right.” I’d forgotten entirely about my vehicle’s supposed problems. “Well, it’s worth a shot. If not, no problem.”

  “You’ll still leave that nice review?” Gary winked.

  “Of course. Say, one more thing.” I held up a finger as Gary turned back towards the shop. “What do you think of him?”

  “Who, Oleg?” Gary paused, then shrugged. “I dunno, a bit strange, but then again we all are. Seems to me like he’s just another average joe trying to make a living in this country. But then again, aren’t we all.”

  “Sure are.” I smiled. “I was just curious. You know, we got to talking about cars after he asked me out on a date. So I was just asking your opinion, you know, if he was a nice guy.”

  “I understand.” The puzzle pieces fell into place as a look of comprehension dawned on Gary’s face. He leaned in, whispering. “Your car ain’t really broken, is it? You just want an excuse to talk to the man?”

  “Well, it is actually broken,” I whispered back. “But not as bad as I’m making it out to be.”

  Gary crossed his arms. “You sly fox. Well, I’ll tell you this. Oleg seems harmless. He shows up to work and leaves, I think he has an apartment a few blocks away. Works pretty hard and never takes days off. Willing to work on side projects with me when we get ‘em – the stuff the main shop doesn’t typically handle.”

  “Sounds like he’s a nice, hard-working, normal guy.” I smiled, taking a step back as Gary took a step closer to me. “Thanks for the info.”

  “One last piece of advice. Unsolicited, I know, but you deserve to hear it.” Gary moved even closer, so close I could smell the onion bagel he’d eaten for lunch on his breath. “You deserve to be with someone extraordinary.”

  Extraordinarily…garlicky? I couldn’t stop my nose from wrinkling at the scent, trying my best to breathe through my mouth. That didn’t help, either. I could taste the onions.

  “Really, like yourself?” Even my voice sounded skeptical.

  “I’ve got a nice manager’s salary, I can fix up your car real nice…” Gary reached out a hand for mine.

  “No, no.” I shook my head. “I can’t. Plus, didn’t you just leave your wife?”

  “It doesn’t have to be anything serious. What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “Might be getting back together with my boyfriend,” I mumbled, remembering I couldn’t use the whole boyfriend excuse since Oleg had supposedly asked me out on a date. “Gotta go, car’s not broken.”

  “Have dinner with me.” Gary didn’t drop my hand.

  Part of me wanted to stay polite, the way I’d been raised by my mother. Always smile and nod. But another part of me fumed inside. If I were a guy, this situation would never be happening. Gary wouldn’t have invaded my space bubble with his onion-breath, and that didn’t seem fair to me. My stubborn side won out.

  “No, Gary. I said no.” I withdrew my hand from his.

  “Fine.” Gary raised his hands. “I’m not missing much, I can already see that.”

  My mouth parted in surprise at his jab. “Hey, buster. Remember that nice review? Not happening.”

  Gary crossed his arms. “Big deal.”

  “I’m leaving you a negative review.” I stomped towards my car. “And you’re right, nothing’s broken. But even if it were, I wouldn’t let you touch it.”

  As I climbed into the Lumina, I realized I’d spoiled my chances of getting any additional information out of Gary about Oleg. But I couldn’t bring myself to feel all that sad about it. He’d had it coming, and probably a lot more of it.

  I whipped around the block, angrily driving around the surrounding streets until I spotted the large DQ sign that would provide a bit of solace after my bad encounter with the car repair shop. Unfortunately, the Lumina had it in for me.

  I pulled carefully into the drive-thru, thinking that no less than six Dilly Bars should do the trick. But halfway through the line, just as cars had begun piling up behind me, I heard a noise. A small...hiss. Rolling my window all the way down, I leaned out, listening. And feeling – feeling the car sinking.

  My rear tire was rapidly deflating.

  The same exact tire I’d tried to pop with a pin thirty minutes ago.

  “Now?” I asked. “Now, Lumina? Shame on you. You couldn’t’ve gone flat ten minutes ago, at the repair shop?”

  Cars began honking and my palms accumulated sweat at an unfortunate pace. I got out of the car, waving at the people behind me, shouting apologies.

  My sorry’s! didn’t do much to calm the onslaught of, Move it lady and, Gimme my ice cream!

  Becoming more and more flustered, I walked up to the drive-thru window.

  “No walk-ups,” a pimply teen said in a monotone. “Sorry.”

  “I’m – look, there’s my car.” I pointed down the drive-thru line. All the cars in front of me were gone, but at least ten cars waited behind me, along with one or two waving middle fingers.

  “Well, what’s the holdup?” he asked, his pupils so dilated I wondered exactly what the kid had been smoking in the bathroom.

  “I have a flat tire.”

  “I work at Dairy Queen. I don’t fix tires.”

  “Right,” I said. And I’ve just offended the manager of the local repair shop, so I can’t call him. “Well, can you help, maybe? Direct traffic or something?”

  “I work at DQ, I’m not a traffic cop,” the kid said. “There’s some shop down the block I think, guys come in here in their mechanic jumpsuits all the time.”

  “Yeah, I can’t go there.” I inhaled a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “I’m in a bit of trouble over there.”

  “You’re in a bit of trouble here, too.” The kid added unhelpfully. “Sounds like you just make trouble wherever you go.”

  “That’s not true!” I raised a finger. “Look, buster—”

  “Excuse my girlfriend, Sarah,” a voice spoke behind me. “She’s just having a rough day.”

  “Anthony?” I whipped around.

  “Sarah?” Anthony repeated, rai
sing an eyebrow with an amused grin.

  I blushed. “What are you doing here?”

  Anthony ignored my question and spoke to the teen. “What’s your name?”

  “Trevor.” Finally, the kid looked as if he were paying attention.

  But then again, so was every other person in the line of cars. Paying attention to Anthony’s tall stature, broad shoulders, and intimidating black outfit, complete with black sunglasses. Mysteriously, all of the middle fingers had disappeared, the honking horns had been muted, and people had suddenly gained a sense of patience.

  “Trevor, I need you to do something for me.” Anthony leaned in, as if he were a secret agent asking for help with an assignment.

  Trevor nodded eagerly. I wondered for a moment if he’d be as eager to help if he knew Anthony’s true job, and then I decided that yeah, he probably would move even quicker.

  “I need you to double all of these peoples’ orders. Now. In the next four minutes. And then I need you and your team to deliver all of the correct, doubled orders to their matching vehicles. And then I need you to take this bill, keep the change, and put a smile on your face.”

  Trevor nodded, glancing down at the hundred dollars Anthony handed over. “Sure thing, sir.”

  “And then I need you to apologize to my girlfriend.”

  Trevor blushed. “I’m sorry.”

  “For?” Anthony raised his eyebrows. “Where are your manners, buddy?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t offer to help you.” Trevor hung his head.

  “Much better.” Anthony patted the boy’s head. “Keep in mind, the women are always right, my friend. It’s better than any lesson you’ll learn working at this joint.”

  “And go to college.” I gave a firm nod, trying to contribute to the conversation.

  Both Anthony and Trevor glanced in my direction, neither commenting.

  “What?” I asked, shrugging my shoulders. “I thought we were giving advice.”

  Anthony turned back to Trevor. “One minute is up. You have three minutes to get all these orders packed and delivered before…”

  Anthony trailed off, leaving poor Trevor to wonder what might happen if he didn’t move his rear end fast enough.

  “Or else what?” I asked, once Trevor had disappeared, shouting orders to his team at the top of his lungs. “Just out of curiosity.”

  “Use your imagination. Sometimes, less is more.”

  “Except when it comes to ice cream,” I added.

  “Nope.”

  “Let’s agree to disagree.” I gave a quick smile, before looking up at Anthony. “Thank you for helping. What brings you here?”

  “I’m drawn to trouble.” Anthony stepped closer, closing the awkward gap between us.

  “Good thing that’s my middle name,” I said, resting my head against his shoulder, letting my frazzled nerves rest for a moment before I stepped back. “As much as I want to get Dairy Queen and picnic with you, I have to get my car out of here. Carlos will only let me expense so many orders to keep people happy.”

  “I’d suggest you call the local repair shop, but that didn’t seem to work out.” Anthony tried to hide a smirk, but failed. “I thought I was going to have to give Gary a shakedown when he got in your face, but then you went ahead and did it for me.”

  “Well, he was rude!”

  “Rude. Yes, that’s one way to describe it.” Anthony inhaled, and despite the good-natured twinkle in his eyes, I sensed a hint of anger beneath the surface. “What were you thinking going there alone, if I might ask?”

  “Can we talk later?” I glanced at my car. “I need to get this fixed. My wheel’s on the rim. I’ve never seen a tire so flat.”

  “What do you expect, when you poke it nine hundred times with a needle?”

  “You saw that?” I flinched. “I was trying to do the whole method-acting thing. You know, make my car really broken, so it was easier to pretend I needed to be at the mechanic’s.”

  Anthony shook his head, probably wondering why he was dating such a piece of work. Meanwhile, I focused on my car.

  “Let’s just pop the spare on,” Anthony walked towards the trunk.

  “Uh, what spare?”

  Anthony remained silent, and I suspected he was counting rather quickly to ten under his breath. “You don’t have a spare?”

  “I never needed one.”

  “That’s the point. You don’t need it until you have a flat.”

  “Oh, well…” I paused. “I missed the boat on that one.”

  “I’ll call someone.” Anthony pulled a phone out of his pocket, pressed a few buttons, and yapped in Italian. Turning back to me, he nodded at the Lumina. “Someone will be here in a second. Grab your things, you can come wait in my car.”

  “I have a better idea.” I held out a hand, smiling at Anthony. “Follow me.”

  Chapter 10

  An hour and two hundred bucks later, Anthony and I sat squished on a bench inside the cramped Dairy Queen. A full ice cream cake sat before us, decorated carefully for Molly’s Bachelorette Party. The cashier had explained that Molly didn’t want her cake anymore, not since her boyfriend ran off with the housekeeper.

  “Your car is fixed, looks like. Shall we head out?” Anthony scanned the inside of the DQ – red wire benches, the sweet scent of waffle cones, the heady ice cream flavors in the air – he didn’t fit in here. All black clothing, crossed arms, and unwavering expression, he looked far too serious for a place that spelled bliss.

  “We could leave,” I said. “But should we leave is the better question?”

  I sliced another sliver of cake onto my plate. Because when I cut up a cake into eight slivers, and then ate them in small pieces instead of one large one, somehow the calories disappeared. It was science, I’m pretty sure.

  “How much of that are you planning on finishing before we leave?” Anthony nodded towards the platter, which had a decent-sized chunk missing. He hadn’t touched it.

  “Well, if you’d help me…”

  Anthony shook his head.

  “Fine. Be that way, make me do all the work, you’re welcome.” I rolled my eyes, took another bite of cake, and set down the fork. “But really, I think we should wait.”

  The skepticism faded from Anthony’s eyes as I explained my secondary reasons for coming to DQ – that Oleg had a date with Gary at ten p.m. tonight, and I wanted to be there for it.

  “You think he’ll show?” Anthony asked.

  I shrugged. “Unless he suspects something. I’m starting to believe coincidences aren’t real anymore, and I’m wondering if Oleg was tipped off about my visit to the shop. I can’t think of another reason he’d randomly slip out for a bite to eat, right at the end of the day, when that’s not his normal M.O.”

  “You’re starting to think strategically.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “I don’t like it, I feel like my innocence is evaporating before my eyes.”

  Anthony pushed the plate towards me. “Have another bite of cake.”

  I gave him a slight smack on the shoulder. “Sugar doesn’t solve everything.”

  “Most things?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled, taking him up on his advice. “I’m surprised you haven’t pestered me more about this assignment. You have a bit of leverage now that you’ve rescued me and my vehicle.”

  “I’m a patient man.”

  “No, you’re not.” I raised an eyebrow. “So what’s the catch? What’s happening here?”

  “I’m not usually patient, but I can be.”

  “Wait a minute…you’re not assigned as my bodyguard again, are you?” I squinted. “We’re not having a repeat of that whole fiasco.”

  “I’m still your bodyguard, doll. It’s just not a secret anymore.”

  “Hrmph. I prefer the term co-worker.”

  “I don’t care what terms you use, as long as my body stays close to yours.” Anthony winked. “For more than one reason.”

  “Aren’t you Mr. Jokester
today?” A light blush crept up my cheeks, remembering just how close we’d been last night. I pushed the thought away, forcing my mind back to work. “But seriously, you’re not tasked to follow me, are you?”

  “No.”

  “But. I sense a but in there.”

  Anthony raised his eyebrows. “You don’t say?”

  I exhaled, trying my best to stay focused, though Anthony was doing a good job of derailing my efforts. “I’m talking shop, pal. Business. Stop dodging the question and talking about my butt.”

  “Your words, not mine.” Anthony gave me an innocent, doe-eyed look.

  I closed one eye and pressed a hand to my temples. “Anthony…”

  “All right, fine. You guessed it. Or rather, I did.”

  “The assignment? How did I give it away?”

  “I can piece things together.” He leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table between us. “First, you’re looking for something. Carlos ditches me and the rest of my men to talk to you – alone. I’m guessing something was stolen, and he suspects it’s an inside job.”

  My jaw hung open.

  “Carlos is in a foul mood, worse than I’ve seen, and that only happens if he thinks someone he trusts has betrayed him. Now who exactly, or what, I’m not sure.”

  “Dang, you’re good.” I blinked. “I’m impressed. So now that you know just about everything that I do, I suppose there’s no harm in asking you to help me?”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing?” Anthony gave me a salute. “But nobody can know.”

  “Deal.”

  “So what’s this new obsession with Oleg?”

  “When he was on ‘vacation’ at the estate, Nora and he made friends. They talked a lot, which means she could’ve accidentally let something slip. And even if she didn’t, when she removed the shades from his window, Oleg had a clear view of the hallway leading up to the entrance to the estate’s safe. If he had half a brain, I imagine he could’ve put the comings and goings of guards together, and figured out it wasn’t a broom closet.” I paused. “That, plus the fact his release date coincided a bit too closely to the theft, raises a red flag in my opinion.”