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Shaved

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by Gina LaManna


  “And here I thought you liked my bank account and my body,” Anthony said, deftly sliding me on top of him. “When the whole time, you get hot and bothered by a full night’s sleep.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I said, and dove in for a kiss.

  “You know—”

  “Shh,” I said, nodding toward the separate living area stocked with Bella’s crib and playthings. “She’s going to wake soon, and we have to investigate a bomb. We’ve gotta keep this quick.”

  “I was promised an hour of alone time yesterday,” Anthony groaned. “I didn’t intend to spend it waking Meg from a nap and finding a dead body in our hotel room.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “But I think I have a way to make it up to you.”

  “Is that right?” He grinned.

  I dove back in, and by the time I came up for air, we were both grinning.

  “That was nice,” Anthony said, curling me against him. “I’m glad that happened.”

  “Me too,” I said. “But we should really be figuring out what happened yesterday.”

  Anthony glared at the ceiling. “What about no working on vacation?”

  “It’s hardly work when it might be our lives at stake,” I said, sliding from bed and striding over to the shower. Anthony’s eyes followed my every movement. “I mean, I know you said you set up some safety precautions last night—whatever that means—but we’ve got to get to the root of the problem, not the symptoms.”

  “Fine, then, Dr. Luzzi.”

  “You’re not taking me seriously,” I said.

  “You’re naked,” he said. “Get back here.”

  “If I get back there,” I said. “Will you listen to me?”

  “What?”

  I rolled my eyes, but half an hour later we were both grinning all over again.

  “Now will you listen to me?” I asked, not making the mistake of getting out of bed naked this time around. I wrapped a robe around me, and miraculously, Anthony’s eyes landed on my face. “We need to get some more information on the body they found in the room.”

  “How do you figure that’s going to help?” Anthony sprawled in bed, his head resting on his bare arm. He looked mighty tempting, despite the morning’s fun and games.

  “It doesn’t sit well with me that our hotel room blew up and magically left behind a dead body. I’d feel better if we had some answers.”

  “Fine,” Anthony agreed. “I’ll find out more information on the person. You handle Bella.”

  “Hey, mister, I’m not sitting this one out.”

  “I didn’t ask you to,” Anthony said. “But I don’t think we want to drag our daughter into these sorts of things, do we? We don’t start the mobsterista training program until she’s a year old.”

  I squinted angrily at him. “Try again.”

  Anthony laughed. “I’m not cutting you out of the action. Unless you have contacts that reach the Hawaiian fire department, then probably, I should be the one to do the research.”

  “Fine,” I agreed. “But call me the second you find anything out.”

  Anthony agreed by climbing from bed and pulling me in for another kiss. “By the way,” he said, as he walked toward the bathroom and climbed into the shower. “You still owe me an hour of uninterrupted alone time!”

  “After this morning?” I called after him. “You are spoiled, mister.”

  He grinned. “I just might call us even if you climb in here with me. There’s room for two.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, saw the peacefully sleeping baby tucked in her crib, and figured it was probably a sign from God that I should take advantage of this unicorn of an opportunity.

  I shrugged, dropped my robe, and climbed aboard.

  “IT’S A BEAUTIFUL MORNING for walking, isn’t it?” I chirped, as Meg and I traipsed out of the grounds of our resort and headed toward town. I pushed the stroller and walked with a special bounce that came after a rare full night’s sleep.

  “You got a lei this morning, didn’t you?” Meg winked. “And I’m not talking about the flower necklace.”

  “No comment,” I said. “How was your morning?”

  “Fine,” she grumped. “It’s really annoying that they couldn’t find us adjoining rooms, don’t you think? I mean, I know Anthony said he tried his best, but I just find it hard to believe that a sexy mobster can’t get what he wants in a stinkin’ hotel.”

  “Yeah, he said he tried hard,” I said, but I didn’t elaborate. “Bummer is right.”

  Anthony had secured Meg and Clay the Presidential Suite and had requested a room as far from them as possible for us. Because of the whole bomb incident, they’d comped our room and given us a penthouse. It was not a hardship.

  We had views of crystal blue waters, palm trees, and a shower with four nozzles. Despite my double-teaming the shower this morning with Anthony, we still hadn’t managed to use all four nozzles. I didn’t even know how to dream that big.

  We also had extra special treatment in the way of a personal butler on call 24-7, and this butler gave Harold a run for his money. The man had brought marshmallows on request for my coffee concoctions, though I didn’t dare call them sugar bombs aloud within hearing distance of hotel staff. In case they got the wrong idea about explosives.

  “Anyway,” Meg said. “Why don’t I push the stroller for a bit? I haven’t spent enough time with my almost-niece this afternoon. And plus, after the workout you probably had this morning, your arms need a break.”

  Before I could respond, Meg had elbowed me out of the way and taken charge of the stroller. I enjoyed the hands-free walk and the ability to make silly faces at Bella while we were on the go, instead of standing behind her, and before I knew it, we’d reached a little stretch of land with all the makings of a small beach town.

  We passed a Java Hut and a swimsuit shop, along with cutesy cafes and expensive little jewelry shops. Even though I was supposed to be getting caffeinated and ready to investigate a potential murder, it was hard not to get sucked into the sway of relaxed island life.

  Meg had chosen Kauai as her destination, one of the smaller, more remote islands. Chickens squawked and ran freely across yards and streets, while the soft sound of crashing waves against the shore provided a calming background track to our morning stroll. The humidity was already rising, and it felt like a true summer day.

  Both Meg and I had chosen lightweight dresses that blew in the rare breeze and left our shoulders strapless in hopes of achieving an even tan for the wedding day. Meg had on a huge floppy hat—so huge I had to stay at least three paces away from her in any given direction—and oversized, very round sunglasses she claimed made her look like a movie star. I was thinking a bug.

  “Here we go,” I said, pointing up ahead toward the sign for Java Hut. “Let’s stop by on the way back—I promised Anthony I’d bring him some coffee.”

  “Oh, my, what a cute baby,” a woman said, stopping us on the sidewalk. “How old is she? What’s her name?”

  I opened my mouth to reply to the woman, who appeared to be a local. Her hair was a beautiful black, worn down her back in a pleated braid, and her skin was a gorgeous shade of bronze that reminded me somewhat of Anthony’s coloring. She wore comfortable-looking strappy sandals and sunglasses that didn’t make her look like a bug.

  Before I could answer, Meg fawned over Bella, leaning forward and gushing. “Oh, thanks. She’s almost a year or something. Her name is Bella.”

  “Bit small for a one-year-old,” the woman cooed to Bella. “You’re a precious little peanut, aren’t you?”

  “She’s—” I started, but again, Meg interrupted.

  “I rounded up,” Meg said. “She’s not a year yet.”

  “I was going to guess six months,” the woman said. “Anyway, she’s darling. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” Meg chirped, and sauntered away as the woman passed by us.

  “What was that all about?” I asked once she was out of earshot. “Did you just
pretend Bella was your baby?”

  “Not really,” Meg said. “I just didn’t say she wasn’t my baby.”

  “Because she’s not.”

  “No, but people treat me nicer when they think I have a baby,” Meg pointed out. “See—watch.”

  She flounced forward with the stroller, waltzing straight up to Java Hut and jutting a hip out as she waited for help. Sure enough, someone from inside the shop hurried forward and pushed the door open for her, holding it wide with a huge grin as she passed through.

  I followed closely behind, but the woman holding the door leaned toward Meg and forgot all about me. As the door slammed shut in my face, I could just about hear the woman saying to Meg, “Adorable baby you have. How old is she?”

  “I see your point,” I grumbled, elbowing the door open for myself and squishing into the packed shop. Somehow, there was room for Meg and a stroller, while I had to suck in the last of my baby weight and hold my breath in order to secure a spot in line.

  “Want anything?” I asked Meg.

  “If you’re buying, then yeah,” she said. “Double mocha fudge with extra, extra whipped cream. Don’t forget the extra-extra, okay?”

  “Got it,” I grumbled, squishing my way toward the front of the room as the other patrons ordered and shuffled off to the side to wait. I must have used up all my good luck on getting Bella to sleep through the night because it appeared I’d run fresh out of it.

  However, my luck took a turn for the positive when I realized the person waiting in line ahead of me was wearing a FIRE shirt and talking in loud, proud tones to the man behind the counter. He mentioned something about the incident yesterday and my ears perked right up.

  “Are you talking about the explosion at the hotel?” I asked, squeezing closer to the counter and trying to wedge my way into the conversation. “I heard about that. Actually, I saw part of it. I’m a guest of the hotel.”

  The two men looked at me with annoyance, and I realized I’d interrupted their private conversation. So, I took a page out of Meg’s book.

  “Sorry to barge in,” I said, thumbing over my shoulder toward Bella. “But my baby and I are staying there, so I just wanted to be sure there wasn’t a threat to the hotel—I mean, we considered switching, but we can’t afford it, and moving around with all of her baby things...”

  “Cute baby,” the man behind the counter said with a smile. “How old is she?”

  “Six months,” I said with a grin and a praise-be to Meg. “It’s her first vacation. We’re here for a wedding.”

  “She’s sweet,” the firefighter said, his expression also softening. “And no, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. We determined the cause of the blast was a small bomb that had been placed on the cleaning cart. It was very localized and didn’t do all that much damage to the hotel—except to the poor woman who was pushing the cleaning cart.”

  “Gosh,” I said. “Do you think whoever planted the bomb was trying to kill her? Or the people in the room?”

  The firefighter shrugged. “The detectives are looking into it. I don’t have much of a theory at all because it’s so bizarre. Either way is strange—killing a cleaning woman, or some random guests? Makes no sense. People are going crazy these days, and that’s the scary part.”

  Just then, his radio crackled, and the fireman picked it up and pretended to listen to the garble. Or maybe he could actually understand it, but to me, it sounded like a pile of gibberish.

  “Gotta run,” he said. “Kai, how about that coffee to-go?”

  The man named Kai turned his massive back to us and shuffled around behind the counter to prepare the beverage. He slung it over the counter as the firefighter tossed a few dollars tip into the jar and gave him a friendly nod goodbye.

  “For you?” Kai asked, turning to me. “What will you have?”

  “Oh, um,” I hesitated, staring at the menu. “I’ll try a macadamia nut latte, my friend will have a double mocha fudge with extra-extra whipped cream, and for my husband...whatever your strongest, blackest coffee is.”

  “You got it,” he said. “Sixteen dollars even.”

  As I forked over a twenty and told him to keep the change, I leaned against the counter and watched him prepare the whipped cream on Meg’s tower of chocolate fudge coffee. “Really weird about that explosion, huh? What else did the firefighters find?”

  Kai gave me a shifty-sort of glance. “I don’t know, not much.”

  Obviously I was getting the outsider treatment. “Sorry if it seems like I’m prying,” I said. “But I have a bit of a secret. The room that exploded? It was mine.”

  “Yours?” he asked, stopping mid-milk-steam. “You’re Lacey Luzzi?”

  I winced as the milk overflowed. “I am, but how did you know my name?”

  “I, ah...” Kai hesitated. “There was an article about it in the local paper.”

  “Did I hear you got your name in the local paper?” Meg asked, shoving through the crowd and using her elbows as a weapon to part the sea of people. “That’s my girl, Lacey. You know, she’s sort of famous back in Minnesota.”

  “Really?” Kai glanced skeptically at me. “For what?”

  “Well, she married like the most handsome dude in the state, and her grandfather’s kind of infamous. You know, all cloak and dagger. Literally, daggers.”

  “But he’s a reformed man now,” I said quickly. “Super reformed.”

  “Or so he says.” Meg gave Kai a knowing look. “Anyway, Lacey solves crimes. It’s kind of her jam.”

  “Interesting,” Kai said, looking quite alarmed. “Well, it looks like you walked right into a mystery. Sounds like someone had it out for the cleaning lady.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It is,” Kai agreed, then handed over a tray teeming with beverages. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  I grabbed the tray and nodded my thanks as Meg swiveled the stroller around.

  “We’ll see you around, probably,” Meg said. “We’re here all week for my wedding, and it’ll take a lot of caffeine to get me married. Keep that extra-extra whip handy, pal.”

  Meg and I left Java Hut, slurping our respective coffees in silence as we made quick work of the walk back to the hotel. I was anxious to hear Anthony’s updates on the case. I was also anxious to get rid of Anthony’s piping hot coffee threatening to burn my hand right off my arm.

  “Here’s your stupid coffee,” I said to Anthony as I kicked open the door to our new room with Meg in tow. “The rest of it has spilled all down my arm, so just lick along the scorch lines if you need a refill.”

  Anthony looked entirely too interested at the prospect of licking down my arm, so I shoved the coffee into his hand and demanded to hear about his findings.

  “My findings?” he asked, surveying my bare arm, up to the top of my ruffled dress. “What findings?”

  “The explosion,” I said, miming a blast. “Boom, bang. Crash.”

  Anthony cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. “Right. Victim’s name was May Kalani. She was thirty-four-years old, involved with a boyfriend, and has been living here on the island for most of her life.”

  “Any reasons someone might want her dead?” I asked. “We found out that the bomb had been placed on the cleaning cart, so there’s a chance it was meant as a special gift for her, and not a random thing after all.”

  “How’d you find that information out?” Anthony narrowed his eyes at us. “You told me you were just going to get coffee.”

  “I’m a mom,” I told him. “I can multitask now.”

  “Me too,” Meg said. “I’m basically a mom too. I’ve semi adopted Bella for public appearances.”

  Anthony looked mildly concerned at Meg’s proclamation. Concerned enough to hand off his coffee to me and retrieve Bella from her stroller. While my mind had been running fifty miles an hour debating blast sites and explosions, I couldn’t ignore the tender churn of my stomach as I caught Bella giving her dad a smile.

>   It was a big, bright grin with an added giggle, and when she snuggled against his chest, I was ready to consider Meg’s suggestion for siblings in that very moment. Anthony put his big hand against her little head and brought her in closer, resting his cheek on her forehead. I blamed my hormones for the urge to cry.

  Since I didn’t want to cry, I switched back to a safer topic. “So, dead bodies,” I said. “Any theories?”

  Anthony gave a vague smile. “Our poor daughter. She’ll grow up thinking this is normal conversation.”

  “It’s the Luzzi Family,” Meg said. “This is normal conversation.”

  “It won’t be moving forward,” I said. “We’re giving up dead bodies before she learns to talk. Can you imagine if she repeated these things in kindergarten?”

  “Actually,” Meg mused. “It might keep her safe from bullies. Nobody wants to mess with the kid whose parents deal in dead bodies.”

  Anthony looked as if he almost agreed with Meg for once, but I gave a staunch shake of my head.

  “It’s not as if you walked right into this one voluntarily,” Anthony said. “So, unless you have an idea for how to keep yourself away from trouble, you might not have a choice.”

  I glowered at him. “You say this as if it’s my fault!”

  “Well...” Meg and Anthony shared a knowing gaze. That was as terrifying as an explosion any day of the week.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Moving along. The firefighter seems to think there’s no threat to the hotel and that maybe someone wanted the cleaning lady dead. That would mean this is an isolated case, and if we can just confirm his theories, we won’t have to worry about any more explosions.”

  “You want to keep investigating,” Anthony said. “I thought we discussed—”

  “No,” I interrupted. “I think it’s best if we keep our noses out of it.”

  “Probably,” Anthony agreed, looking a hint surprised. “So that’s settled?”

  “It’s settled,” I said, though I itched to know for certain. Now that Bella was involved, I didn’t want to take the risk of being wrong. If she’d been in that room...

  But Anthony was right. There was no sense spending our vacation hunting down a potential murderer if it was none of our business. It was probably a coincidence we’d been involved at all, even in a peripheral way. Things like this happened to people all the time.

 

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