Lacey Luzzi Box Set

by Gina LaManna

  “The guards are supposed to keep track at the gate,” Nora said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure they’d be completely accurate, since once in a while we have a guest who requests a visit to not be documented.”

  I frowned. That could be troublesome. The type of person who might request that a visit be wiped from the record was exactly who I was looking for. At the same time, those logs might give me a place to start. I could get Clay involved, have him help develop a program to look for patterns of comings and goings and, within those patterns, inconsistencies.

  Just maybe we’d get lucky.

  “I’ll go talk to Fede,” Nora said, bustling out of the kitchen. “Finish your meal, and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  As soon as Nora left, I turned to Anthony to explain my plan.

  He had other ideas. “I’m hungry?”

  I recoiled from his stern look. “You’ve done the same thing to me. Don’t you try and play innocent, mister.”

  “Help me eat this,” Anthony said.

  “For a man who’s supposed to be a strategic genius, that’s your best solution? Seriously?” I blinked. “Watch and learn.”

  Anthony fell silent as I picked up the plate, fished for a plastic garbage bag from the drawer, and dumped the pancakes inside. Then, I set the plastic bag gently inside the garbage container. Next, I picked up the plastic drainer from the sink – the gross contraption that catches the gunk – and proceeded to dump said gunk on top of the plastic bag.

  “Don’t you think that’s good enough?” Anthony wrinkled his nose.

  I shook my head, wadding up a few paper napkins and setting them with creative expertise on top of the gunk, on top of the plastic bag, inside the garbage.

  “That’s a lot of effort to throw out a few pancakes,” Anthony said.

  “It’s a lot easier than trying to swallow them,” I said. “And a whole lot easier than trying to convince Nora you’re not hungry.”

  “Point taken.” Anthony looked up at me with an expression that might be described as impressed.

  “Ta-da!” I waved.

  “You are a master,” Anthony agreed. “Excellent. Now, do I get to know your plan?”

  “Oh, right. Sometimes I get a bit carried away with the ‘creative’ part of hiding food.” I sat at the table next to Anthony, close enough that our legs touched. “The list might be helpful, but that’s not the important part of my plan.”

  “I figured as much.” Anthony nodded. “You’ll give it to Clay and have him analyze it for patterns?”

  “Yep,” I said, pleased to see that we were thinking along the same lines. Maybe this teamwork thing could work out better than I’d ever expected. “I mostly wanted a minute alone with you to explain my plan, that’s why I sent Nora off.”

  “You’ve got about three minutes before Clay or Nora break in here.” Anthony lifted a hand, tucking a hair behind my ear. “I’m yours for that time, however you’d like to use me.”

  His gesture gave me pause. “Seriously? Here, Anthony? Now?”

  “I’m just offering.”

  “I’m tempted, but...no.”

  Anthony sighed. “First you squeeze my thigh, then you put your leg up against mine – when are you going to stop teasing me?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m just sitting next to you.”

  “You’re teasing me.”

  I smiled, planting a big smooch on his forehead. “Is that better? There’s more where that came from. Later. For now, listen closely.”

  “I’m listening,” Anthony said, his gaze trailing down my neck, past my collar bones.

  “Listen to my mouth, Anthony,” I said. “My words.”

  His gaze jerked up. “You look nice today.”

  “Why, thank you.” Even though time was short, it was hard to pass up a compliment like that. All his nice words and affectionate glances made it difficult to stay on topic, but I forced myself to continue. “Should I tell you about the plan?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Unlike Anthony, who could switch from business to pleasure and back in a second, it took my mind a few seconds to adjust. “So, we have a Haunted House tomorrow.”

  “Unfortunately,” Anthony said. “I don’t plan on taking part.”

  “I wouldn’t say that so fast...”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Remember how I wished we could just wrap everything into one huge bundle and figure it out all at one time?”

  He murmured a yes, not sounding convinced.

  “Well, I think we can do that.” I paused, letting the notion sink in for a second, before quickly explaining my new and improved plan to him. When I finished, I gave him a hopeful glance. “What do you think?”

  “I think...” he drifted off. “I think that’s not the worst plan you’ve ever had.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Riding a tandem bike? Taking two elephant-sized suitcases on vacation?” Anthony shook his head. “I’m not judging, just saying a few of your ideas could be improved upon. This plan? I have to admit, I like it.”

  “Those were out-of-the-box ideas.” I crossed my arms. “You win some, you lose some, that’s the nature of being a creative genius. But anyway, you think my idea will work?”

  “It’s risky. I think you shouldn’t be involved, but you’ll try to be.” Anthony moved closer to me on the picnic table bench, our legs brushing against each other again. “But I think if we’re to get the missing item back, this might be the only way in our short time frame.”

  “Having Clay look through the patterns might get us somewhere eventually,” I said. “But it will take time. And Nora said the records aren’t one hundred percent accurate, so there’s a good chance that our culprit – especially if he is on the inside – knew how to get his name off those sign-in lists.”

  “I don’t like you getting involved with this.” Anthony shook his head. “It could be dangerous.”

  “Does that mean you won’t help?” My shoulders sagged. Without him, the plan might still work, but it would be far more difficult.

  “I said I don’t like putting you at risk.” He rested a hand on my leg. “I didn’t say that’d stop me from helping you. If anything, I’ll keep you glued to my side during the process.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t like the idea of interfering with the Haunted House. I don’t like the idea of you getting involved with bad people. I don’t like the idea that you are expected to come up with these sorts of schemes as part of your job.” Anthony rubbed his temples with one hand, leaning into me with the opposite shoulder, as if for support. “You’re sure you don’t want to be a school teacher?”

  I rubbed his back. “So you’ll help me?”

  “One change in the plan.” Anthony spoke towards the table. “I’m locking myself in the safe, alone.”

  “Compromise,” I said. “We’re both going inside.”

  He glanced sideways at me. “Fine. When would you like me to kick the plan into motion?”

  “Just as soon as—” I stopped talking, noises from the hallway interrupting my train of thought. Walls shuddered, footsteps stomped across the floor, and Harold was shouting down the hallway.

  A second later, Meg burst into the kitchen hauling a tottering pile of boxes, blankets, and what looked like spider webs. “I’m here!”

  “That means it’s my time to leave,” Anthony whispered.

  “Now,” I said. “Start the plan now.”

  Chapter 18

  “THIS IS SURE TO BE the best Haunted House in town,” Meg said, scattering her armload of goods all over the kitchen table. She stacked pumpkins on top of ghouls, on top of candy corns, on top of masks, on top of tombstones – leaving no room for the snack of wine that Nora had set out for us.

  I worried that we’d be the ones to bring about the collapse of the priceless family heirloom, thanks to the weight of the supplies. The kitchen table had lasted in pristine condition for a bazillion ye
ars – or ever since Nora and Carlos had eloped – but it hadn’t yet experienced an art project by Meg.

  “Yes, I think it will be one for the books,” I said. “Marissa and Clarissa will be pleased.”

  “Why do you keep implying this holiday is all about kids?” Meg asked sharply. “I’m decorating for me.”

  “Of course.” Since Meg appeared to be speaking to me now, I took it upon myself to agree with everything she said, so as not to risk the cold shoulder again.

  I set to work cutting out a cardboard pumpkin with a goofy face, thinking it looked eerily similar to Joey, who was now married to my cousin Vivian. It didn’t take long for my mind to wander elsewhere, busy plotting out the details to make this plan work.

  The whole idea was simple, spurred by the notion that maybe I could kill two more, or even three, birds with one stone. I could get Meg speaking to me again, decorate and host a Haunted House, and catch the man behind the crown theft, all in one night.

  The success of the idea hinged on the ability to ensure everyone in the house went full steam ahead in their efforts to make the Luzzi Haunted House the best Halloween attraction this town had ever seen. Little did they know, it would serve a dual purpose, the Haunted House working as the perfect cover for another, entirely hidden, event.

  As for Meg, I’d already made headway there. I’d take snippiness over silence any day. There’d be time to work on improving our relationship alongside the other two goals. Namely, setting up the Haunted House, whilst also laying a trap.

  I gave up cutting out Joey-the-pumpkin, since he now looked more like a starfish, and moved onto untangling spider webs at Meg’s insistence.

  Anthony’s part in this whole gig was to set up a rumor. This is the part I needed him for, specifically, because the rumor had to come from someone high up, someone trustworthy, dangerous, and believable. In other words, not me.

  At this very moment, Anthony should be letting it slip to one of the chattier guards that the Luzzi Special Forces team had enacted a special plan to acquire and lock up an item for safekeeping during the Haunted House, using the event as a distraction. A large ticket item, one certainly worth stealing.

  He’d lay breadcrumbs that insinuated he was nervous about the whole thing; Anthony would say that Carlos had put me in charge of bringing the client’s goods into the safe, and express concern that I had been given such a huge assignment while I was still so new to the job.

  To make the rumor more appealing to a potential thief, Anthony would also mention that he himself wouldn’t be around to help with the transfer, and that the Haunted House would make things difficult, what with a hundred people walking around in masks and costumes. He’d argue the whole thing was a terrible idea.

  Too dangerous, he’d say. He’d make a joke about the situation, most likely, tell Chatty-Cathy-the-guard not to blab the secret, and be on his way. From there, Chatty-Cathy-the-guard would probably tell one other guard, then two, then soon everyone on his shift would know about this supposedly secret plan.

  Which meant that by tomorrow night, everyone on the inside should have heard about these precious items I’d supposedly be bringing to the safe and locking up for a client. And, if all went according to plan, someone would try to rob Carlos.

  The one hitch? Anthony and I would be waiting for the thief.

  “So how’s this going to work?” Meg asked. “For the layout. Do we have the full house at our disposal?”

  “I don’t think we have time to decorate the full house, even if we wanted to – there are just too many rooms.”

  “Do you even want to decorate anything?” Meg dropped the pumpkin she was dressing up, with an annoyed look. “I’m not trying to force you to do anything.”

  “I just meant there’s a million rooms.” I paused. “How about this...we decorate the outside of the estate, by the front door. That way when people come into the house, the ambiance is set. We can have Harold dress up like, I don’t know, a skeleton or something, and—”

  “Skeletons aren’t scary,” Meg scoffed. “We need him to be like a clown or something.”

  “All right, a clown, then,” I said, still in non-argumentative mode. “He can let the kids in—”

  “This isn’t just for kids,” Meg said. “Adults, too. I’m advertising this event at my bar.”

  “You’re what?”

  “We’re going through all this work, I want to make sure it’s worth it.” Meg tipped her chin up. “I’m just putting out the word in case one or two of my customers are interested in stopping by.”

  “Mmm,” I mumbled, finding it harder and harder not to argue. “Well, then Harold can greet the kids and adults—”

  “In a creepy voice,” Meg added.

  “—in a creepy voice,” I said. “Then we can decorate the entryway. A few cobwebs, things like that on the way to the Grand Hall. There, that’s where we can focus most of our efforts.”

  “That’s the room with the missing finger?” Meg asked.

  “That’s right!” I nodded. “I forgot all about that. Maybe we can take this opportunity to glue the finger back on without Carlos noticing.”

  “Yeah, or we could blame it on a guest. That could work, too. He’d never know.”

  I hesitated. “Carlos always knows.”

  “Well, I’m a better liar than you.”

  “We’ll see,” I hedged. “Let’s focus on decorating for now, and see what happens. We’ll deal with the finger later.”

  “Okay, so we deck out the Grand Hall.” Meg opened her arms before her as if directing a choir. “That will be rad. But how about we have a grand finale right here, in the kitchen?”

  “This is a private room, I’m not sure my family would go for that, especially if we have guests walking around.”

  “Then where do you propose we have the grand finale?” Meg asked.

  I pictured the house in my mind, trying to find a room that we’d not only be allowed to use, but one that was relatively close to the safe. As much as Carlos’s safe wasn’t public knowledge, I was willing to bet a fair share of his guards knew where the entrance was located. Carlos probably didn’t have to be all that secret about hiding it, since there were so many layers to get through before one reached anything worth stealing.

  “I’ve got the perfect idea,” I exclaimed, wondering why I hadn’t thought of it before.

  “Thanks to me,” Meg grumbled. “I gave you the idea of a grand finale.”

  “Thanks to you,” I agreed. “Do you want to see the place I’m thinking of?”

  Meg squinted. “I dunno, do I?’

  “I think you do.”

  “Fine,” Meg said. “Just remember, it was my idea.”

  Chapter 19

  “WOW, GOOD THING I HAD the brilliant idea to come here,” Meg said, surveying Oleg’s old holding cell. “This is perfect.”

  I nodded, glancing at the familiar “prison” cell. Despite the hotel-like furnishings, fresh bed sheets and decorations, and the lovely view from the window, the room would be perfect for the grand finale in more than one way.

  “The bars on the window are ideal for ambiance,” Meg said. “We can let people come through the Haunted House in waves – groups of ten, maybe – and have the guards working in costumes to scare them. Then, just when they think it’s over...wham!”

  I jumped as Meg slammed the door shut.

  “We trap them,” she cackled crazily. “We tell them, ‘Time to go now,’ but before they head out, the door locks. They’re trapped.”

  “And then we let them out,” I clarify.

  “Maybe. I haven’t decided on that part,” Meg said. “Otherwise, maybe we just keep them trapped here all night. That’d be kinda funny, too.”

  “Probably also illegal.”

  “We’re not charging these people to come in, right?” Meg shook her head. “I don’t get those people who complain when we give them something for free.”

  “Well, it’s sort of like kidnapping.”


  “But they want to be scared.”

  “And they also want to be let go,” I said, walking towards the door.

  Besides the ambiance created by a real life jail cell – barred windows and all – the room was perfect, due to its prime location next to the safe. Anthony and I would be hiding out in the inner chamber all night, waiting for someone to slip inside. If we led the Haunted House tour right past the entryway, hopefully we’d tempt the traitor into acting sooner rather than later. After all, we were running out of time.

  And by giving the thief the ability to slip away unseen, hopefully he’d waltz right into our waiting arms. Well, more like my waiting arms, and Anthony’s waiting gun.

  “I’ve got a great idea of what to do with that fan.” Meg stared up at the ceiling. “Shall we get decorating?”

  Over eight hours later, we’d eaten two dinners, watched the sun set through barred windows, and waded through piles upon piles of decorations, rubbish, and costumes. But I had to say, the house looked quite spooky.

  From the front door all the way to Oleg’s former holding cell, skeletons danced in the hallways, spiders the size of my head hung from the ceiling, and cauldrons steaming with witch’s brew lined the way. Hands down, it was one of the creepiest homemade haunted houses I’d ever seen.

  Throughout the afternoon, Nora had ducked her head in and out of the hallways while, not surprisingly, Anthony and Carlos had made themselves scarce, along with the rest of the guards.

  “Looks good, girls,” she murmured, always disappearing back to her piles and piles of papers. She was knee deep in the soul mate analysis portion of the personality test. “Keep up the good work.”

  We finally finished the setup after a grueling day of bending over, climbing on chairs, and crawling into small spaces. Most of the time it was me doing the crawling, bending, and climbing, which led me to believe that Meg was using my non-argumentative state to boss me around a bit more than usual.