Sugared

by Gina LaManna

  “And the money,” I added. “He said if we didn’t give him the money before tomorrow, he’d show up at our wedding.”

  Anthony’s fingers tensed. “I will not allow him to threaten our wedding.”

  “Right. But, you guys are safe,” Meg said. “Because you already got married, remember? So why don’t you just cancel this one since it’s for show, anyway?”

  Anthony brought the car to a jerky stop. “I will not cancel it.”

  “Push it back?”

  Anthony turned to look Meg in the eye. “I will not let anyone threaten me, nor my family.” His voice was deadly—poisonous—and as black as his pupils. “Is that understood?”

  Nobody had a response.

  “We’re here,” he said gruffly, opening his door and climbing out into the alley behind the bowling lanes. “Wait in the car.”

  “What if he kidnaps us?” Meg asked. “Shouldn’t we stick close to you?”

  Anthony looked to me, but I shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time I got kidnapped while waiting in the car.”

  “Fine,” he said. “Come with me, but don’t try anything. Stay with me, and don’t talk unless asked. This is my business now.”

  “Fine by me,” Meg said. “I’m just here for the show.”

  We strode toward the building, Anthony in front, Meg and I scurrying to keep up. She’d thrown a t-shirt over her camisole, but it didn’t help with the length of her shorts. Apparently the first sunny day in a while had Meg thinking she was at the beach.

  Heads turned as we walked in, half of them looking at Anthony and the other half looking at Meg. I was the invisible sidekick squished between them as we trooped to the front desk.

  “Ralphie.” Anthony leaned on the desk and read the nametag of the same man who’d greeted us earlier in the week. “We have business to discuss.”

  “I don’t know you,” he said, eyes shifty as he looked between the three of us. “And I definitely don’t think we have business.”

  Ralphie was a big guy, but not quite as big as Anthony. And definitely not as muscled. Ralphie’s strongest asset was his size. Anthony had size, brains, and physique on the guy...not to mention a motive, and we all knew it.

  “Let’s try this again.” Anthony reached out, fiddling with the plastic nametag across Ralphie’s chest, and snapped it in half. Then, he tucked both pieces into Ralphie’s shirt pocket. “I’m going to remember you, Ralphie, if we don’t get along today. If we become friends, however, I might forget I ever knew you.”

  “What do you need?” He glanced over Anthony’s shoulder and caught sight of Meg and myself. His eyes narrowed. “Hey, those are the two bitches who came in here waving a gun—”

  Everything happened so fast. One second Ralphie was pinned against the wall, then he was bent over his desk, then pressed to the ground. By the time my eyes could focus again, Anthony had Ralphie sitting hunched over in a chair.

  “Would you like to apologize to my wife?” Anthony asked in a quiet, almost-gentle voice just next to Ralphie’s ear. “In case you are curious, there is a right answer to the question.”

  “What about me?” Meg asked. “He can apologize to me, too.”

  Anthony sighed. “And Meg, too.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ralphie said, his voice strained. “I don’t know what you want. I just work the front desk, and—”

  “Where does The Zebra hold his private meetings?” Anthony asked. “Three seconds.”

  “Private meetings? What are you talking about?”

  “Two seconds.”

  “He doesn’t have—”

  “Fine then.” Anthony pulled half of Ralphie’s name badge from his pocket and ran a finger over its jagged edge. “We can catch up later in private.”

  “You never counted down to one!” Ralphie cried. “The private meetings are held in the back. We’re not allowed to step foot there.”

  “I figured,” Anthony said wryly. “Hence the word private.”

  Ralphie hung his head, his pose almost pitiful. In one day, he’d turned on his boss, offended the wrong women, and was now stuck facing Anthony. I almost felt bad.

  Stepping forward, I rested a hand on Anthony’s shoulder and addressed Ralphie. “Believe it or not, my husband is not out to hurt you—we know you’re not the problem. Please help us.”

  Anthony reached for his wallet, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. “Go buy yourself a nice lunch and take a little time off this afternoon.”

  “A hundred bucks?” Ralphie’s eyebrows pinched together. “The Zebra will kill me. A hundred bucks is nothing.”

  “Then I’d get a head start if you don’t want him to kill you,” Anthony said. “Now where’s the office?”

  “He said not to disrupt him today,” Ralphie said sullenly. “He has a girl in there. I wasn’t supposed to know, but I saw her go in the back entrance this morning. She hasn’t come out yet.”

  Meg and I exchanged a look, my fingers tightening on Anthony’s arm.

  “I don’t think she’ll mind,” Anthony murmured in a painfully tight voice. “Let’s see...where was I? Three, two...one.”

  Ralphie stood and limped a little toward the back of the game room. He headed straight for the line of pool cues I’d noticed on the wall during my last visit. To my surprise, he picked one up, then pressed a small knot of wood behind it. A door built into the mahogany cue rack swung open and revealed a dingy passageway beyond.

  “Go through there to the end of the hallway. I don’t have a key, so you’re on your own.”

  Anthony patted Ralphie on the shoulder and handed over the money, then waited until he skulked away.

  “I recommend the burger place across the street,” Meg called after him. “And don’t forget the vanilla shake.”

  Anthony just stared at her.

  “What?” she asked. “A hundred bucks will get you far at that place.”

  “Can you make Meg wait out here?” Anthony asked, turning to face me. “Please?”

  “We don’t have time for this,” I said, launching myself into the hallway.

  Anthony smartly decided not to argue, following the click of my shoes. The lights were dim, the tiling on the floor cracked and dirty. Even the walls were coated with grime, and the whole place stank.

  “It’s like a zoo back here,” Meg said. “Perfect for The Zebra.”

  “How long have you been holding onto that joke?”

  “About thirty minutes,” she said. “Admit it, I made you laugh.”

  The door at the end of the hall was locked as promised, but Anthony made quick work of it, using a set of tools from his pocket. It flew open at Anthony’s push, and we all gathered our breath as we waited for whatever sat beyond the wall.

  “Alessandra!” I cried, rushing toward her. “Thank God!”

  She sat tied to a chair with duct tape across her mouth. I carefully peeled the tape back before pulling her into a hug.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I brushed her hair back. “Why did you come here without us? What happened?”

  “Lacey.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but his touch was firm as he pulled me back. “Give her some space.”

  “He’s not here,” Alessandra said, her voice monotone. “I overheard him on a phone call before he left earlier. He’s planning to be back this afternoon—I assume anytime.”

  “Are you okay?” Anthony asked, his gaze searching. “Did he...”

  Her eyes flicked to him. “I came here to confront him. He bested me, tied me up, but nothing else. He barely even spoke to me.”

  “Take her outside, get in the car and lock the doors,” Anthony instructed me. “Pull Patty around the block out of sight.”

  “What are you going to do here?” I asked. “Come with us. We’ll figure out a way to deal with him later. We’ll turn the recording over to the police.”

  “Take her,” Anthony said, this time speaking to Alessandra. “And leave. I will call when I’m done here.”

  Al
essandra hesitated at his revised instructions, glanced at my injured arm, and gave a resigned nod. “It’s for the best, Lace.”

  “Come with us,” I pleaded to him. “It’s not worth doing something you’ll regret later.”

  “Oh, sugar...” He pulled me in for a hug and kissed my forehead. “I won’t regret a second of it.”

  “Lacey, come on.” Alessandra guided me out of the room, following directly behind Meg. I turned back just before Alessandra closed the door and found Anthony sitting in the chair, the ropes and duct tape at his feet.

  Waiting.

  Chapter 27

  Sunlight streamed through Patty’s windows. All three of us sat in the vehicle cooking in the heat and waiting for a sign that something, anything, was happening inside the bowling alley.

  We’d driven to the back of the building, across the street from the rear parking lot which, though it provided us a great rear view of the place, didn’t give us any lines of sight toward the front.

  Finally, I tapped the glass with my knuckle. “Can we please crack the window?”

  “Better not,” Alessandra said. “Let’s just wait here like Anthony said.”

  “Anthony didn’t say anything about overheating Patty,” Meg said, and cranked the window down an inch. “If someone wants to get at me through this teensy crack in the window, let them try. I’ll break their fingers off.”

  I shuddered. “What’s taking so long?”

  “It’s been minutes,” Meg said. “Give the man some time to strut his stuff. Also, we have a horrible view. Let’s drive around to the front.”

  “No,” Alessandra said. “We’re staying put.”

  “We won’t be able to see if The Zebra arrives in the front!” Meg argued. “I want to know when it’s going down inside. Then again, maybe he’ll come in the back. Dilemma.”

  “Going down?” I looked to Meg. “What do you think he’s going to do?”

  “Nothing rash, that’s not Anthony’s style,” Meg said. “He’s more of the svelte sort of fellow.”

  “Maybe I should go back in there.”

  “No.” Alessandra reached out, breaking her long, forlorn gaze out the window. “I already made that mistake—don’t make things harder for Anthony.”

  “But—”

  “I was so stupid.” She turned her gaze back to the window, slid down in the seat, and let her hand fall from my wrist. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

  “You weren’t stupid, you were emotional.”

  “My brother shouldn’t have to take care of my mess,” Alessandra said. “Not when I’m the one who screwed everything up in the first place.”

  “Listen—”

  We didn’t have time to listen because four black cars rushed onsite, flooding the alley with a fleet of Carlos’s uniform black vehicles. Eight men, two to a car, all leapt out at once, hurrying into the building. They all wore plain suits and matching, unreadable expressions.

  “Look at those cute little Anthony wanna-be’s,” Meg said with a giggle. “They’re adorable.”

  “I’ve seen them before,” I said, waiting to place a few of the faces with my memory. “They’re from the estate.”

  “The trainees,” Alessandra said. “Anthony was telling me about them—they’re going to watch over the estate while you guys are away for three weeks. Or, at least, they’re supposed to help the other guards.”

  “But what are they doing here?”

  “I assume Anthony called them.” Meg cracked her knuckles. “I bet that means he’s done with his part. Speaking of the devil, here he comes. Will you check out his hair? Nothing like a good confrontation to put a little swagger in a man’s step.”

  My eyes locked on Anthony. He strode from the building like a life-size action figure. As he moved, he nonchalantly rolled the cuffs of his white button-up shirt. When he looked up, his hair had a distinctly mussed ‘do that likely hadn’t happened on purpose.

  “Hello, ladies,” Anthony said, and a quick smile flashed on his face. “I’m driving.”

  Meg had been sitting in the driver’s seat so she could control the radio, but as Anthony leaned down and spoke through the crack in the window, she fanned herself and evacuated the seat without argument.

  She squished into the back with Alessandra, and the second Anthony sat down, Meg stuck her head through the gap between the seats. “So? How was it?”

  “How was what?” Anthony asked. He stuck the key in the ignition and gave it a turn. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re full of it,” Meg said. “Give me a bone. Was it awesome or what? Dish, man.”

  To my surprise, Anthony grinned broadly. He glanced at Meg in the mirror, winked, and then pulled the car onto the street.

  “Oh, you’re a tease.” Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “I feel like that was our first moment of bonding ever, and you didn’t even explain.”

  “Explaining would be nice,” I added. “Why did your trainees just storm Zebra Lanes?”

  Anthony’s eyes flicked toward me briefly. “Because I’m done there. They can clean up the mess.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I proved my point.”

  “Is he alive?” I asked.

  Anthony raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t harm a hair on his head.”

  “Yeah, what about the rest of his body?” Meg asked. “Arm hair? Leg hair? I’m dying for the details.”

  “He’s well enough to be taken into the police station.” Anthony’s voice grew calm. “The trainees will take him there. You can drop off the recording and give your statements later. For now, we’re going home.”

  “Why don’t we swing by the station now?”

  “I don’t deal with the police as a rule.”

  “Good choice,” Meg said.

  “What?” I stared at her. “You were a cop. My dad was in law enforcement.”

  “Well, I’m not anymore,” Meg said. “And your dad is an exception.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Anthony drawled. “But I would agree. In addition, you don’t have hours to sit at the station—not if you want to make it to the rehearsal dinner on time.”

  I debated on it for a minute. Probably, Nora’s wrath would be more frightening than an annoyed police officer. “Fine. But what will they arrest him on?”

  Anthony pulled something out of his pocket. It was small, a tiny recording device. He handed it into the backseat and shot Alessandra a glance in the rearview mirror. “It’s up to you if you want to listen.”

  Alessandra held the recorder with reverence. “He confessed to killing Beckett?”

  Anthony’s silence said enough.

  Alessandra clutched the device in her hand. She licked her lips, clearly searching for the words to say. She couldn’t think of anything, and neither could the rest of us, so we spent the remainder of the ride home in quiet.

  When we piled out of the car, Meg and Alessandra disappeared into the estate to get ready for the dinner while Anthony and I continued home. He parked, and we walked in stiff discomfort toward the door, the air awkward and stilted between us.

  “I won’t ask what happened,” I said, turning to face Anthony before he unlocked the door. “But please tell me you didn’t get yourself in trouble back there.”

  He hesitated with his hand on the lock. “I didn’t.”

  “But?”

  “There’s no but. All I know is that I’m marrying you tomorrow for the second time. Nobody is going to stop that from happening.”

  My fingers found the edge of his shirt, toyed with it, then snuck up and around his neck as we sank into a delicious embrace. The stilted silence melted into warmth as we melded together, the last beats of sunlight radiating down on us before the dark of night washed it way.

  “We could always skip dinner,” Anthony murmured as he clicked the lock open. “Haven’t we been there, done that?”

  I gave a garbled groan of agreement.

 
Anthony took that to mean one thing, scooping my legs out from underneath me and carrying me over the threshold into the house. My arms swung around his neck as he held me to his chest, stumbling toward the living room couch.

  “I’m sorry if I worried you back there,” Anthony said after he plopped us down on the couch, his hands coming to rest on either side of my face. “I didn’t hurt the man. But if I ever see him again, I can’t make the same promise. Nobody comes after my wife, or my child.”

  I wound my fingers through Anthony’s as he adjusted his position, curling up next to me. “It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  “We’re going to be parents,” he echoed.

  The idea hung over us, a new concept to which we were both still adjusting. But it was a pleasant one, nerve-wracking, maybe, but exciting.

  “What if we named the baby Arnold?” I asked, chancing a cheeky glance over my shoulder. “I just feel we should honor our first fake-baby.”

  “For a boy or a girl?”

  “Funny. Do you have any better ideas?”

  “Anthony.”

  “For a boy or a girl?”

  “Very funny, Mrs. Luzzi.”

  Chapter 28

  The rehearsal came and went as expected. From there, the immediate family left the cathedral and headed back to the estate for more chaos.

  Tables overflowed with fine foods, cheeses and meats, fruits and desserts. Delicious wines flowed freely, and a sparkling Nora single-handedly filled the room with chatter.

  It passed almost too quickly, and as the party began to wind down, I found the night had been a most pleasant distraction from the events of the day. My father left the party first, planting a kiss on my cheek when I walked him toward the exit.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, squeezing his hand as he turned to leave. “Thank you for being here.”

  “Lacey, about tomorrow. Are you sure you want me to...be a part of it?”

  My father’s face held a pinch of excitement, and I smiled. “Of course I do.”

  He smiled softly, nodded. Giving my hand a squeeze back, he took the stairs down and paused, offering one last wave.