by Gina LaManna
“Maybe she went to the pool,” Anthony said. “Or to check out the food. She loves food.”
I glared at him. “Key. Now.”
Anthony read the concern in my eyes and took off down the hallway, ignoring the rent-a-cop’s plea for him to stick around.
“Yeah,” I told the security guard, “I wouldn’t get on his bad side if I were you.”
“What is he,” the guy asked, “an FBI agent?”
“Worse,” I said. “Or better. Depends on whether he likes you or not.”
“And you are?”
“His wife,” I said with a snarl. “What have you found in there? What happened?”
“I’m guessing a bomb,” he said, amid a spray from the fire extinguisher he’d grabbed from the box on the wall, “but I don’t have the training to go in—the fire department is on the way and will be here in a few minutes. I’m just trying to keep the flames down so the damage doesn’t reach the other rooms.”
The word bomb sent creepy crawlies all over my skin. Especially after Clay’s recent jaunt into our room along with his confession of a missing suitcase full of prime ingredients meant to build something that went boom.
“I think I see a foot in there,” the rent-a-cop said, a sudden panicky tone to his voice as he let the extinguisher drop. Sprinklers had begun to go off in the room, sending a cloud of smoke toward the door. “I thought you said this was your room, lady. Is there anyone else in there?”
“There shouldn’t be!” My voice reached screechy decibels. “But then again, there shouldn’t have been a bomb either! My best friend has the adjoining room...”
“Was the door unlocked?”
A small crowd had gathered, though I barely noticed as I spoke through a raw sensation in my throat. “Yes. She popped her head in a few minutes ago.”
The wail of sirens outside was a mixture of relief and irritation.
“Why are they taking so long?” I demanded. “Where’s the foot? I’m going inside.”
“Lacey—stop!” Anthony had returned and yanked me back as I took a step closer toward the doorway. “Think about your daughter. Don’t go racing into the flames when I have the key.”
“The key to what?” I asked blankly.
In answer, Anthony picked me up and carried me a few paces over, plopping me by his side as he inserted the key into the lock outside of Meg’s room and waited impatiently for the light to blink green. Once it did, he let us into the room. “See?”
“See what?” I snapped. And then, “Oh.”
There was Meg, asleep on the bed in all her glory. Mighty orange earplugs stuck out of her ears and a gel eye mask with fake long lashes had slid down from her eyes and rested on her mouth. Her chest rose and fell evenly. The only sign of the blast from the room next door was the slinking of smoke from underneath the adjoining door and the rush of firemen as they blasted by in the hallway.
“But if she’s in here,” I said, holding my breath. “And my grandparents and Bella are upstairs...”
“Then who was in our room?” Anthony finished grimly. “I have no idea.”
“What the hell was that?” I gasped. “And why?”
“A bomb,” Anthony said. “And I have a feeling I know who it belongs to. What do you say we find that cousin of yours?”
“Ours,” I said. “Take a little responsibility. He’s your cousin now, too.”
“Nope,” Anthony said. “That’s where you’re wrong. Because that would mean Meg is becoming some sort of relative, and I can’t deal with that.”
We both watched the sleeping bridezilla for a few more minutes before I remembered the very reason we’d come in here. To make sure she was alive. It would probably be a good idea to evacuate the room in case there were any more surprise explosions.
“Meg,” I said, lightly snapping the eye mask against her face. “You’re gonna wanna get up. Maybe see if they can upgrade you to that Presidential Suite because—ah!”
Meg rose with her hands stuck out in front of her body. She went instinctively for my throat, her hands locking around my neck in a murderous grip. It was only when I pinched the soft skin behind her elbow that she let go.
“Jeez!” I said. “Why is your first instinct to wake up strangling people?”
“I’m marrying into the mob, my friend. I have to be alert at all times,” Meg said, then spoke proudly to her hands. “Nice job, guys.”
“We’re not really...” I hesitated glancing over my shoulders. “Doing those things anymore.”
“Maybe not,” Meg said. “But I can help you get back to it. Revive the Luzzi Family to its former glory, if you will.”
“It’s quite glorious enough,” I said. “Now get out of bed because there’s a fire next door.”
“There’s not supposed to be that much chemistry until the honeymoon.” Meg waggled her eyebrows. “Are you two already thinking about giving Bella a sibling?”
“No,” Anthony said, while I sort of gave a shrug.
“No,” Anthony said again calmly. “I mean, not yet.”
“Well, I’d love if you could try to make the next one a boy,” Meg said. “That would be very neat.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” I said dryly. “But on the way here, you didn’t even seem to like Bella all that much.”
“Are you kidding?” Meg threw her feet out of bed and climbed down. “I love that nugget. I just wanted to be sure that little knucklehead doesn’t keep her mama from enjoying her best friend’s wedding.”
In a way, for Meg, that was sort of sweet. And she really had been the most doting aunt over the last several months. The number of outfits she’d bought for Bella numbered well into the hundreds. It’d gotten to the point where Anthony was pulling tutus out of his underwear drawer. While I might not hand Bella off to Meg alone just yet, I had to admit she’d been a gigantic help around the house.
“Speaking of the baby,” Meg said, her eyes opening wider. “Shouldn’t you be more worried? Wasn’t she just sleeping in the bomb zone?”
“She’s safe upstairs with Nora,” I said, and then in a moment of panic I drew out my phone and called upstairs. I confirmed all was well with Nora, Carlos, and Bella while Meg hiked on her camo vest over a pair of white, lacy shorts that were on the dangerous end of see-through.
“Got my wedding outfit on,” she announced proudly. “Nifty, huh?”
“Sure,” I said. “Might as well pack the rest of your things because I don’t think you’ll want to stay next to this smoky room. It’s a real bummer we won’t be having adjoining rooms this week, but it’s probably for the best if we both move rooms.”
“Oh,” Meg said with a nonchalant wave. “I don’t mind the smoke, but yeah. This not having adjoining rooms business is pure crap. I bet we can get you hooked right up next to us in the Presidential Suite. We’ll figure something out, chickadee, don’t you worry.”
Anthony cleared his throat loudly behind us. “Why don’t I take care of the rooms while you go find your cousin, Lacey.”
“I think Clay went to the computer lounge,” Meg said. “No huge surprise there. Thanks for doing the rooms, Anthony. That would be the Presidential Suite for me and Clay, and you and Lacey can request the one that butts right up to it.”
“Right,” he said, but he was already halfway out the door, and it came back a garbled response through the chatter that filled the hallway.
I made my way out after him while Meg finished packing her things. In a moment of panic, I wondered if my bridesmaid dress had blown up. Then, in a moment of glee, I wondered if my bridesmaid dress had blown up.
“Anthony Luzzi!” I yelled down the hallway and jogged after him. “You remember how I hated my bridesmaid dress?”
“How could I have forgotten?” Anthony asked, running a hand over his face. “You’ve only been staring at it and bursting into tears for three months now.”
“Well, we had that little chat before,” I wheedled. “That little chat in which I joked about
it going...you know...poof.”
Anthony frowned, flicking through his very-smart brain in search of one trivial bridesmaid dress memory. Eventually he located it and broke into a huge grin. “I love you, Lacey. But no, I didn’t blow up a hotel room as a sign of my love and devotion to you over your hatred for a dress.”
“Whew,” I said. “That’s a good thing.”
“But your cousin,” Anthony said. “Was missing what seems to be a very combustible suitcase, so one might wonder...”
“It couldn’t have been Clay’s fault!” I argued. “Someone died in there, Anthony. Clay doesn’t hurt people.”
We both hesitated as we simultaneously assessed my last statement.
“He doesn’t hurt people on purpose,” I amended.
“Listen, Lace—there’s a reason you’ve banned Clay from giving Bella gifts that can’t fit through a metal detector,” Anthony said. “I’m not saying this is his fault, but...you need to find him. Quickly. Before the police catch wind of all this.”
I sullenly returned to the scene of the blast just as Meg hauled her last suitcase into the hallway. While she found a bellboy and requested assistance with her small army of pink bags, I sidled over to the fireman overseeing the scene.
They’d gotten the fire stopped, so I chanced a glance over the firefighter’s shoulder for a peek into the room. I couldn’t see a foot, couldn’t tell if there really had been a body in there at all. For everyone’s sake, I hoped the room had been empty as expected.
“What are you finding in there?” I asked as the man stepped forward and blocked my view into the room.
“We’re asking all hotel guests to stay back,” he said. “We’re working on determining the cause of the fire, and—”
“Well, I can tell you the cause,” I said. “It was a bomb, or some sort of blast. I mean, the door is halfway across the hallway. I’d think that’s pretty obvious.”
“Do you know something about this, ma’am?”
I put a hand on a hip. “Not particularly, but I do know that’s my room, and I was almost in there at the time of the fire, so yes. I know a little about the room. How bad is the damage? I have a bridesmaid dress in there that I’m quite...” I hesitated. “Concerned about.”
The firefighter read my tone correctly and gave me a thin smile. “Lucky for you, the blast site was concentrated around the entrance to the bathroom and the front door. Most of the room is relatively untouched, aside from smoke damage. We’ll be in touch with a full workup once we get through our initial assessment.”
“So, the dress isn’t gone?” I asked. “You know, gobbled up by flames?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Dang,” I said. “I mean, good. Is everyone okay? Someone said they saw a foot, but that doesn’t make sense. No one was inside.”
I was talking myself down. Feeling almost calm about the whole situation. There was no way someone could have been inside! Anthony and I had just left. Meg was fine, and Clay was at the computer station. My baby was safe upstairs with her grandparents.
Even my clothing wasn’t ruined (unfortunately). On top of everything else, I’d packed most of Bella’s things and trekked them upstairs to Nora’s room. That was exactly why it paid to be an unreasonable, over-attached, helicopter mother. I’d packed enough for Bella to last a week and brought it upstairs for her hour playdate. And that would save us the hassle of needing to buy all new baby things on our vacation.
“You’re sure nobody was in there, ma’am?” the firefighter asked. “Nobody you know?”
“I’m pretty sure,” I said. “My husband and I were just in that room, and nobody was there. We left—I went upstairs to drop my daughter with her grandparents, and my husband was getting ice. We were coming right back to the hotel room for some...” I cleared my throat. “You know, to do some things.”
The firefighter blinked, then shook his head. “Well, I’m afraid to say, Miss—”
“Mrs. Luzzi,” I finished for him. “What are you trying to say, officer?”
“Someone was in the room when the bomb went off,” he said. “And they didn’t fare as well as your dress. Now, if you’ll back off and give us some space, I’m sure the front desk will arrange a new room for you and your husband. We have work to do.”
I backed away from the door to our hotel room and let Meg hook her arm through mine and drag me down the hall toward the computer lounge. She chattered the entire way, but I couldn’t pull myself out of zombie mode to listen.
If Clay had been involved in the blast...if there had been a casualty from his stupid little inventions...
“There’s the groom,” Meg said, wheeling us through the doorway into a windowless tiny room with no natural light, and only the greenish tinge of computer glow bouncing off Clay’s pale face. “There’s my cutie pie. Say, guess what happened?”
“How could you?” I demanded. I extended a finger and pointed it at Clay as I stepped forward. “Tell me you weren’t involved, Clay.”
“Fine.” He raised his hands and spun the chair around. “I wasn’t involved. Whatever you’re talking about. What are you talking about?”
“The bomb that went off in my room,” I said. “Blew the door right off the hinges. And get this, Clay, it killed someone.”
“It killed someone?” Meg asked. “Who?”
“Where’s Bella?” Clay asked, panicking as he glanced at my arms. “You never let her out of your sight. What happened? Is she okay?”
I softened for a brief moment that his first thought was about Bella, but I crossed my arms as I responded. “She’s upstairs, safe with her great-grandparents, fortunately. But someone is not safe—someone died in my room.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Clay said. “I already told you. My, ah, specialty gear got lost.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “Absolutely positive? Because if one of your toys harmed someone, this family is not standing up for you, Clay. We love you, but this is serious. Someone—”
“I get it,” he said. “But I’m telling you that I had nothing to do with it.”
I expelled a huge breath of relief. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Then he frowned. “I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t have any materials to whip up a blast big enough to...never mind,” he said quickly at the look of dismay on my face. “I didn’t do it, Lacey. I just meant I couldn’t even have done it on accident if someone set my suitcase on fire.”
“Well, that’s how suitcases should be,” I snapped. “They shouldn’t explode if they get lit on fire.”
“So, what happened?” Clay asked. “How did someone get in your room and end up dead? Why weren’t you in your room?”
“We don’t know who the body belongs to, but the timing is uncanny,” I said. “Anthony and I had just left the room for no more than ten minutes. He was getting ice; I was taking Bella upstairs. It was a godsend he’d thought to get a bottle of champagne, or else maybe he’d have been in the room at the time of the blast, too.”
“You’re telling me that somehow,” Clay said, pausing with another frown, “in a ten-minute window that the two of you weren’t in the room, it caught on fire and burned down, killing someone?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” I said. “Weird, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Clay said, “unless they made a mistake.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Was your break planned?” Clay pressed. “Had the two of you planned to be away from the room?”
“No, I just told you,” I said. “It was sort of—sporadic. You know, we wanted some time to be together...ah, alone, and it just sort of—well, you know how those things go.”
“Boy howdy, do we,” Meg said, clapping Clay on the back.
He reddened. “I’m just saying, that’s very coincidental.”
I rolled my eyes. “And it still doesn’t explain why someone was in our room.”
“What if a maid or a hotel staff member came by to c
heck on you?”
“Maybe,” I said. “But I hope they figure it out. All I know is that I am not getting sucked into this mess. The focus is on Meg this week—not investigating explosions.”
“No,” Clay said. “But don’t you think it hit a little close to home to just sit back and do nothing about it?”
“He brings up a good point,” Meg said. “Plus, who needs the spa anyway? Nothing like a little adrenaline to bring a nice flush to the cheeks. Where do we start?”
Chapter 3
Starting things—anything, really—had become a lot harder since Bella had arrived. The laundry, grocery shopping... picking all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms box. Work in general was more tedious when I had a baby strapped to my chest.
This included solving crimes, apparently. I’d stayed far away from the family business, and business of all sorts, since Bella’s arrival. Despite my best intentions, nothing “got started” in the way of an investigation at all. Bella needed feeding, a bath, and bedtime stories, and that all happened by seven p.m. I was sleeping by eight.
Apparently, my bedtime only got earlier on vacation, thanks to the time change. I must have knocked out by seven p.m. because the last thing I remembered was a slight whiff of smoky hair (despite a shower), and suddenly, I was waking to the light graze of Anthony’s fingers over my skin the next morning. It was a testament to how exhausted I’d been that I didn’t even remember eating dinner.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Anthony whispered in my ear. “How’d you sleep?”
“Actually...” I stretched. “Really, really good. How is that possible?”
Anthony gave a smug smile.
“Did you get up with Bella last night?” I squinted at him. “Did she almost sleep through the night?”
“I might have,” he said, brushing his fingernails across his shirt and blowing an exaggerated breath of air at them. “Did my strategy work?”
“I’d say so,” I said, laughing as I pulled him closer to me. “Have I told you lately how sexy I find you? All this getting up in the middle of the night and changing diapers business gets me all excited.”