Sugared

by Gina LaManna

  “Yeah,” Meg said. “I didn’t think that one through.”

  Clay, meanwhile, had fumbled his way to hang up the call. “Sleep, you idiot,” he commanded. “Sweet dreams, Bob.”

  “Gentle,” Meg said, as Clay shoved Bob toward the couch. “I served a lot of drinks to save up for this thing.”

  “He’s an asshole.”

  “Clay, watch your language around him,” Meg said. “You know he’s still in learning mode, and we don’t want him picking up those things. Also, it’s Lent, and it’s not fair that you can curse, but I can’t.”

  “Talk to me about murder,” Clay said, shoving his body into a kitchen chair. “I need to calm down.”

  “Something is horribly wrong with you,” I said. “But I need your help, so here it goes.”

  I caught Clay up on what we’d seen in the cathedral, the mysterious cake testing, and Alessandra’s disappearance. I hadn’t yet decided if Alessandra’s disappearance had been her trying to jilt us, or if something worse had happened. It wasn’t suspicious enough to sound the alarms quite yet, but if she wasn’t home by dinnertime, I’d involve Anthony.

  “So, you think someone was sending you clues via cake?” Clay raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t know if it’s a clue, or what. I just know there’s a series of weird things happening here, and in my experience, that sort of thing is rarely a coincidence.”

  “Why do you think the body was left in the cathedral?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “They are calling it suicide, but I just don’t think that can be right.”

  “You think someone is warning you to, what? Not get married?”

  “Too late for that,” Meg said. Then, at my disgruntled glance, she remembered the secret. “I mean, you already paid for the cakes. What are you going to do, cancel?”

  “You could,” Clay said, oblivious to Meg’s slip. “Wouldn’t you rather be alive than dead?”

  “I mean, the answer to that is always yes,” I said. “Do you mean alive and unmarried versus dead and married?”

  “Sure,” Clay said. “Why go through with the wedding if you think it’s dangerous?”

  “I don’t know if it is or not,” I said. “I’m trying to think through all the options.”

  “Well, I will run things through my system,” Clay said. “And let you know if any of the data points are matching up in a weird way.”

  “Bob, wake up,” Meg called. “Bring me a glass of water.”

  Bob rose to his metallic toothpick style legs and moved creakily into the kitchen. For a thing made of metal, I was impressed by the smoothness in his stride. There was almost a sense of beauty in how every little piece of him worked together to function, not as a bunch of itty bitty gadgets, but as one whole entity. Almost like Power Rangers post morph.

  Bob managed to retrieve a bottle of water from the pack on top of the counter, clamp it in his claws, and carry it over to the table. Meg retrieved the bottle, cracked it open, and took a sip. “Thanks, Bob.”

  “You are welcome,” he crackled. “Also, the answer to your question is ready.”

  “What question?” I asked.

  “The data points connecting from your story,” Bob said. “Clay instructed me to run it through my system.”

  “No,” Clay said, standing angrily. “I said I was going to run it through my system.”

  “Isn’t that sort of one and the same?” I asked. “You know, since Bob belongs to you.”

  “No, Bob is a jerk who’s trying to take over my job,” Clay said. “I am only keeping him alive so I can study the pieces of him. I’ll show Dane Clark who’s the best in the business. I could be a billionaire if I wanted, you know.”

  “Why aren’t you, then?” Meg asked. “I wouldn’t mind a billion bucks.”

  “Because that’s just showing off.” Clay tipped his nose higher. “And we don’t need to hear Bob’s response because I’ll have mine by tomorrow.”

  “But he has an idea now,” I said. “It can’t hurt to listen, right?”

  “Correct,” Bob said. “The data points connect and triangulate on a name and location.”

  “Hold on.” I held up a hand, glanced first to Clay, then to Bob. “You know a name and location?”

  Bob moved his metallic head in some semblance of a nod.

  “Shut up, you show off,” Clay said. “I’m on the case.”

  “What’s the name and location?” I asked. “This is about the murder of our friend. Your pride can take a backseat today, Clay. Stop arguing with the robot.”

  “I’m not arguing,” Clay said.

  “You are arguing,” Bob said. “The name and address are here.”

  On Bob’s narrow chest, a small digital screen no larger than a tablet flickered to life. On it were the words:

  Nickname: The Zebra.

  Location: Blaine, MN

  Place of employment: Zebra Stripes bowling alley.

  “The Zebra?” Meg asked. “Holy moly. Carlos was talking about that this morning.”

  “What did he say?” I asked. “I’m assuming we’re not talking about the animal?”

  Meg raised an eyebrow. “According to Carlos, the guy is an animal. He’s dangerous, goes by the name of The Zebra.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Meg said. “I zoned out.”

  “Meg!”

  “What? Nora was serving breakfast! A girl’s gotta eat. Plus, she was having Marinello’s croissants delivered, so we all knew it was gonna be good.”

  “Thanks, Bob,” I told the robot. “I think we have what we need.”

  Clay glared at Bob, then instructed him to go back to sleep and shoved the bot toward the couch.

  “It’s okay, babe,” Meg said, sidling toward Clay. She pecked him on the cheek. “Your butt is way more beautiful than his. Who needs a brain when you have a behind like yours?”

  Chapter 10

  “I thought we were going back to the estate,” I said, watching as we turned the wrong direction.

  “We are,” Meg replied.

  I looked behind us. “Really? Because you should’ve gone the other way at that light.”

  “We’re going there. Just not right now.”

  I shifted in the passenger’s seat to look at her. “What do you mean, not now? We have to talk to Carlos about The Zebra.”

  “Yes, and we also need to eat dinner. That doesn’t mean we have to do it right this second.”

  “Where do you think we’re going instead?”

  Meg pinched her lips together for five minutes. That’s how long it took for us to pull up in front of a store called Sexy Suits. A hole in the wall shop tucked away from the rest of the world in a quiet little side street. I couldn’t decide if the shop was dingy or quaint.

  “What’s this?”

  “Surprise!” Meg threw her arms out. “I planned a surprise bachelorette party for you.”

  “You know I’m already married.”

  “And I also know you missed the bachelorette party the first time around, so now we are going to make up for it.”

  “I don’t want to make up for it. I’m not a party sort of girl.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “No. Recently, every party of mine has been interrupted with shooting, an argument, or some other disaster. From here on out, it’s only private parties for me. Parties for one. Maybe two, if Anthony’s home.”

  “Don’t be a sourpuss. This will be a small party.”

  I sighed. “How small?”

  “The ladies of the family. Me and you. If you feel like inviting Nora or Alessandra, go for it. There’s enough space for ten. I just couldn’t remember if you had any friends besides me. I pretty much count for a hundred friends.”

  “You most certainly do.”

  “Oh, what about that Vivian? I always did love her pink Jeep. She’s a hoot—let’s bring her along.”

  “Along where?”

  “On a cruise!”

  �
�Meg, what?! No! When? Tell me you didn’t book this yet. Can you get a refund?”

  “It’s tomorrow, and no refund. I had to pay everything up front. I got a major discount.”

  “I’m getting married on Saturday! Or re-married, or renewing my vows—whatever. There’s no time for a cruise!”

  “We’re going to Lake Minnetonka, relax,” Meg said. “The most glamorous lake in all of Minnesota.”

  I closed my eyes for a long moment. “You’re joking.”

  “Nope! All paid for.”

  I glanced at my winter jacket. Then I looked outside where the temperature read thirty-six degrees. “It’s freezing. There’s no way we can do a cruise on Lake Minnetonka.”

  “The ice on the lake went out a few weeks back during those record highs. We’re not actually going to sail much, just sort of sit on the boat. Like I said, I got a major discount.”

  “Because it’s freezing!”

  “Well, I can’t control the weather, now can I? Otherwise this state would be a balmy seventy-seven all year round.”

  “So, there’s no way to back out of this?”

  “None. That’s why we’re here to buy you a new bathing suit.”

  “You mean a wetsuit? A snowsuit? Because we might get flurries tomorrow.”

  “The hot tub might be working on the boat. Don’t cruises have hot tubs? Come on, stop arguing. It’s all booked, I’ve already hired the entertainment and the food—so, sit back, relax, and enjoy.”

  “Entertainment?” I asked weakly.

  “And food. Don’t forget the food.”

  “There’s no way out of this, is there?”

  “Nope.”

  ***

  Two hours later, we emerged from the store after Meg had tried on the majority of swimsuits in stock. We were all exhausted, particularly the sales clerk. I hadn’t bought a thing. Meg had bought ten things.

  “Now we can go home,” she chirped cheerily.

  “And by home, you mean...”

  “The estate,” Meg said. “Remember, chickadee, I’m basically family now.”

  I was too tired to argue. Plus, I now had to conserve my body heat and energy for a bachelorette party tomorrow aboard Boat FreezeALot. A fantastic addition to an already crappy week.

  Then again, it wouldn’t be right if I had a normal bachelorette party—like maybe a spa day with girls, or a Britney Spears concert, or something actually fun. That wasn’t how this family worked. Fun didn’t seem to be in the cards for us.

  “Hello, ladies,” Harold greeted as Meg and I climbed the stairs to the estate. “Can I take your bags?”

  “Oh, these?” Meg shifted them higher. “Nah, thanks, Harry. I’ll just put them in my room.”

  “Your room?”

  “Yep,” Meg said. “Once I became part of the family, I inherited the rights to a room.”

  “When did she become part of the family?” Harold asked me.

  I forced a smile in his direction. “Do you know where I can find my grandfather?”

  “Do you need to talk to him? Right now?”

  I froze as Meg entered the hallway first. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Harold said, then cleared his throat. “Meg, you might want to sit this one out.”

  The sound of a crashing plate punctuated the silence.

  “Nope,” Meg said, rubbing her hands together with greedy excitement. “That’s my invitation. I ain’t missing this show.”

  “Carlos, get in here right this second!” Nora stuck her head out of the swinging door as we made our way toward the kitchen. She listened a moment, and obviously decided that he wasn’t moving fast enough. “I mean it! If you want to eat, you better get your tush down here before I come and find you.”

  Meg raised her eyebrows at me, and then we cautiously walked into the kitchen with my grandmother. “Nora, how about I pour you a glass of wine?”

  “No, thank you,” she snapped. “I already had one.”

  “How about another?” Meg asked.

  “I already had another.”

  “Do you want me to help?” I asked, hovering like an awkward toddler behind my grandmother. I pointed over her shoulder toward the stove. “Something’s smoking there.”

  “Do I look like I need help?” She clanked her ladle hard against the saucepan, little driblets of red scattering like blood across the white stovetop. “Sit down and relax. Carlos!”

  Something in my grandmother’s voice must’ve broken through my grandfather’s stubbornness because suddenly, footsteps hurried toward the kitchen. And I mean hustled. My grandfather never hustled for anyone.

  He made his way into the kitchen, glanced at Nora, then at me. He looked like he wanted to kill me.

  “What?” I asked him.

  “What did you do?” Carlos had the nerve to hiss at me. His voice fell so low I was sure Nora couldn’t hear him. “What did you do to put her in this mood?”

  “Why is it always my fault? I haven’t even been home all day,” I said. “I walked in on her like this.”

  “Eat, people.” Nora smacked the still hot pan of pasta sauce on the table. Next, she plopped down the pot of noodles still brimming with boiling water. Apparently, the thought of draining the noodles hadn’t arrived this evening. “Hurry up before it gets cold.”

  “Oh, uh, do you want me to drain the noodles?” I asked, peeking into the pot. Not that draining them would do much good—the poor fettucine looked caked to the pan. It’d take a sledgehammer to bust the noodles loose.

  “Do they look like they need to be drained?” Nora asked. She poured herself a glass of wine. On second thought, she grabbed the bottle and set it next to her as she sat down opposite of Carlos. Meg looked hungrily at the bottle, but Nora didn’t even notice. “I. Said. Eat. Mangia.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Meg stuck her fork into the pot and pulled out a steaming noodle, dunked it in the sauce, and ate the thing whole. “This is delicious.”

  “I know,” Nora practically spat. “Of course it’s delicious. What about the rest of you. Suddenly not hungry? I’ve been slaving all day over this feast, and you’re too proud to eat my pasta, Lacey?”

  “I told you.” Carlos murmured to me. “What did you do?”

  “I’m as confused as you are!” My voice inched up in volume. I cast a tentative glance at my grandmother. “Nora, is something bothering you?”

  “Does it look like something’s bothering me?”

  “Yes,” I said. “It does. You’re flying off the handle at all of us.”

  “Does it look like I’m flying off the handle?”

  Nora rarely had anything but a smile for the world, so this level of fury was quite unusual. Whatever I’d done wrong was a mystery to me, and she seemed adamantly against talking about it.

  I already had enough mystery in my life without worrying what I’d done to tick off my grandmother. Instead, I turned to Carlos to sort out the other mystery.

  “Carlos, what do you know about The Zebra?” I asked. “I hear he’s operating just outside of the Cities near Blaine.”

  I threw out everything I possibly knew about the situation, and even things I wasn’t sure of, just to see if Carlos reacted. He did, and it wasn’t pretty.

  “The Zebra?” His voice was deathly quiet. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “I don’t have time for this!” Nora stood, snagged her wineglass first, then the bottle, and stormed out of the room.

  Carlos didn’t bother to turn his head and watch her leave. He didn’t even comment on it. Nor did he smile, grin, or give me any other sign that he thought I was completely crazy, and that’s the part that scared me the most.

  “Do you know anything about it or not?” I asked. “I’m asking as a favor.”

  “Why?”

  “Curiosity.” I crossed my arms and sat back, trying to play the tough guy part. The illusion was a little bit shattered by Meg scraping crusted noodles from the side of the pan and slurping them down.

>   “Meg,” I said finally, as she sucked in a particularly long noodle. “Do you mind?”

  “What’s in it for me?” Carlos asked. “Assuming I know anything at all.”

  “Obviously you do, and obviously it’s not great news, so I’m willing to offer you a deal,” I said. Leaning against the table, I swiped Meg’s fork from her plate before she could start hacking away at the noodles again and ruin my bargaining moment. “I’ll go after Nora and find out what’s upsetting her.”

  “You promise me that by the time she comes to bed, she’ll be whistling,” Carlos fired back. “And you have a deal.”

  “She’ll be singing The Sound of Music.” I extended a hand. “One more catch. You won’t ask questions of me, you’ll just answer my questions.”

  Carlos thought on it for a minute.

  “It’s a good deal,” Meg encouraged. “I’ve never seen Nora in such a rage. You’re gonna be sleeping on the couch for a while, my friend, whether you did something or not.”

  Carlos must have agreed with her assessment because he nodded. “The Zebra. Arms dealer. Drug dealer. Ran out of the state twenty years ago, recently returned.”

  “Who ran him off?” I asked. “Was it you?”

  Carlos’s silence was enough of an answer.

  “Ah,” I said. “That’s why you’re so upset. His return is personal.”

  “Why’s he called The Zebra?” Meg asked. “I swear, Lacey’s about to start a zoo. The Fish, The Zebra. Can’t someone be called The Blimp or something? What about The Hamburger? I mean, honestly.”

  “Black and white,” Carlos said. “He didn’t choose the name, it was gifted to him after he murdered his own brother.”

  “He murdered his brother?” I couldn’t hold back the gasp, or the look of horror on my face. “For what?”

  “The Zebra has rules for those who work with him, for him. Those rules are black and white. Break a rule, and that is it. No second chances, no mercy, nothing. His brother was made an example of. The Zebra treats the white stripes like royalty, but cross over to the darker side—steal from him, lie to him, test his boundaries... and that will be your end.”

  “Crap,” Meg said. “I about wet my pants. That’s the most terrifying thing I ever heard.”