Sprouted

by Gina LaManna

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “I think I’m okay without input from pretty much everyone here.”

  “Lacey, come on now.” Ira clicked his tongue. “The miracle of childbirth is nothing to be ashamed about.”

  “No, of course not,” I said. “But practicing it in front of a roomful of my family members is plenty to be embarrassed about.”

  Carlos stood as far away from the action as possible. In fact, he stood in the corner with his face turned to the window and his hands clasped behind his back so tightly his fingers looked like little red balloons.

  I wanted desperately to join him.

  “Come on,” Clay said, taking my hand and pulling me forward. “Let’s get this started.”

  I slapped Clay’s hand away. “I think that’s my husband’s job. Also, the table is overkill. Maybe we can just breathe together, or—”

  “You have a family who wants to help you, Lacey. We’ll all be there when the baby is born. You’ll be in the best of hands,” Nora said. “The best facilities, the best doctors, the best cheerleaders.”

  “I don’t doubt the latter,” I grumbled as Anthony’s hands reached out and helped me onto the table. “Okay, this is officially weird.”

  “You’ll be laying similarly to this,” Ira said. “But of course, your knees will need to separate some, so the baby has room to—”

  I slapped his hand from my knee. “Tell me to open my legs and you’re dead.”

  Ira nodded, unfazed. “Of course. I think it’d be best if you just rested your legs straight down for now. We’ll focus on the breathing.”

  “I think that’d be best.”

  I pushed my legs out straight before me. Then I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes, willing sleep to come and take me away from the horror.

  “Anthony, do you mind if I take over for a minute?” Clay’s voice was rushed, excited. “Maybe you can watch first, you know, from the outside.”

  Anthony was too surprised to have much of a response.

  Ira jumped on board, nodding enthusiastically. “I’m loving the energy, Clay. Just loving it. Let’s get you in here so Anthony can take notes.”

  Clay grasped my hand as Ira came around to stand behind my head. I watched his every movement, wary.

  “Let’s practice your breathing,” Ira said. “One-and-two-and—”

  “Sorry,” I said, when he wound down. “I didn’t catch that. Could you do it again for me?”

  Ira closed his eyes, pushed and pulled the breaths from his body like a deflating balloon. Clay spotted my distraction, leaned in, and began to talk.

  “You’re right,” he whispered. “Detective Rankle’s as crooked as a weather vane.”

  “Are weather vanes crooked?” I asked. “I thought they were supposed to be straight.”

  “So I suck at analogies. Anyway: Rankle has been accepting payments from one Jonathon Fidge for the last few months.”

  “Big payments?”

  “Big enough to afford his new yacht.”

  “Oh, my gosh,” I said, sucking in a deep breath. “But how—”

  “There you go,” Ira said. “Maybe not such a sharp inhalation. That sounded more like a gasp. How about we work on smoothing out your breaths. Can I get a who-who-hee?”

  “What am I, an owl?” Clay snapped. Then he realized Ira was talking to me. “Oh, yeah, go ahead Lacey. Who-who-he.”

  I rolled my eyes and made little breathing noises. “Sound good? Can we call it a day?”

  “No, dear,” Nora said. “I hired Ira for the hour.”

  “Sounds like I’m going to be all out of breath after an hour.”

  “Honey, sometimes labor lasts many hours, let alone days. We’re all hoping yours will be quick and easy, but you never know.”

  I felt some of the blood drain from my face, and watched Anthony’s mirror the effect. “Well then, Ira,” I said. “Let’s get to work.”

  I puffed a few more routines while Clay clasped my hand. Ira instructed me to continue breathing, then sidled his way over to Anthony and began setting up the father-to-be with some coaching tips.

  “What else did you learn?” I demanded of Clay. “Who is this Jonathon Fidge?”

  “Someone affiliated with Bank of the Lakes. Someone big: the CFO.”

  “The CFO is paying off a cop to bury an investigation into his own company?” I blinked, forgetting all about the breaths. “Why would he do that?”

  “WHO-WHO-HE, Lacey,” Ira snapped. “Not ha-ha-ha.”

  I pushed out a few super quick breaths to make him happy as Clay shook his head.

  “I have no clue,” he said. “Unless they’re both involved in it.”

  “But he wasn’t at the crime scene. Unless...” I racked my brain. “There were some men there, hostages like me. Maybe Jonathon was there undercover, and I didn’t know who he was.”

  “His picture is on the company website,” Clay said. “It’s not hard to find.”

  “Find it then, will you?” My mind scrolled through its memories as I scoured each moment of the heist trying to picture all the men who’d been stuck with me. There’d been baldy who’d spoken to me in line, then some of the bankers, and the miscellaneous guys who I’d have to see to remember. “I need to see it to jog my memory.”

  Clay pulled up the website for Bank of the Lakes corporate and pointed out the man’s face. “Recognize him?”

  I gave a hard look to the sharply dressed, tailored man smiling from Clay’s phone. Then shook my head. “I don’t recognize him. Not to say he wasn’t there, I just don’t recall him from the day of the heist.”

  “Well, he’s got to be involved,” Clay said. “There’s no other reason he’d be paying off the cop. Maybe he hired the girls to keep his hands clean?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But if they did, or do, work at the bank...isn’t that weird? I feel like most people in corporate companies don’t go looking at their co-workers and wondering if they’d join them in heisting their own company. That’s got to be grounds for termination.”

  “One would think,” Clay said. “But I’ve never worked for The Man. I don’t know what working in an office is like, unless you count the TV show.”

  I bit my lip in thought. “What if—”

  “Lacey, gossip is not going to get that baby out of you,” Ira chastised. “Breathe, girl, breathe.”

  I resisted the eyeroll and continued breathing as I huffed to Clay. “What-who-ha-he-do-he-ha-who-you-ha-ha-ha—”

  “It’s who-who-he,” Clay said. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”

  I stopped, dumbfounded as Clay demonstrated.

  “What?” he snapped at my expression. “I’m the only one in this family who’s prepared for things. Of course I watched a few birthing videos in preparation.”

  “Oh, gross,” I said. “Thanks, Clay, but no thanks. You’re my cousin.”

  When Ira turned away, Clay dropped the act. “I don’t think you should go and face this Fidge guy yourself. Not yet. Not if he’s paying off cops. That’s generally something to avoid as your water is about to break.”

  “Maybe not, but—”

  “But nothing,” Clay said, grinning. “I did you one better.”

  “Really?” I tugged Clay closer as Anthony began his march toward us. “Where do I find Fidge?”

  “There’s a charity gala tomorrow. Huge, ritzy ball. If you can find yourself passes to it, I’d suggest you get yourself there.” Clay spoke quickly, quietly. He knew as well as I did that if Anthony overheard him plotting with me, it would not end well. “As it turns out, Detective Rankle will be there, too. Both in one place—coincidence?”

  “Oh, Clay, I love you.” I pulled my cousin close and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you so much.”

  Anthony stopped dead a few feet away. “So, it looks like you don’t even need me to be there? The two of you seem to have things handled.”

  I laughed. “Come here, honey. I was just thanking Clay.”
/>   “It’s not HA-HA-HA!” Ira shouted. “Anthony, we discussed this. Make sure Lacey is doing it correctly: Who-who-he.”

  “By the way...” Clay leaned in even further. “Is Meg’s ring size an 11?”

  “Where’d you get that?”

  “It’s her shoe size.

  “No, she’s a six and a half.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” I parroted, and we shook hands. “Nice doing business with you, sir.”

  “What did Clay do that brought on a thank-you?” Anthony narrowed his eyes. “This wouldn’t be about the bank incident, would it?”

  “Hasta la vista,” Clay said, ducking away from us. “No, Lacey—don’t ask. I can’t get you tickets.”

  “Tickets to what?” Anthony asked, moving a step closer.

  “Give me your hand.” I took his outstretched fingers and squeezed. “Who-who-hee...Who-who-he...”

  Anthony didn’t look amused.

  “I’m not going to break your fingers by squeezing too tight, am I?”

  Anthony gave a dark chuckle. “Try, sugar. Now, what are these tickets?”

  I frowned. “You don’t give things up easily, do you?”

  “Where are you going, Lace?”

  “A charity ball,” I said on a sigh. Then, in a surge of brilliance, I grinned at him. “Tomorrow night. Want to come with? Really splashy thing. Black tie. Rich people and their friends.”

  “Since when are you feeling charitable?”

  “Do you want to come?”

  Anthony shifted. “You know I hate those things.”

  “Great. I’ll take Meg.” I waited under his stare, but then broke down. “Fine, there’s someone there who I think is involved with the heist. I just want to watch them interact with another guest.”

  “I’m sending men with you.”

  “Please don’t do that.”

  “I can have them tail you discreetly without your agreement, or you can accept my offer of help and they can drive you.”

  “Can I accept your offer of your checkbook?” I asked. “Just in case I have to be charitable.”

  Anthony waited a long beat. “You’re taking two men with you.”

  “And your checkbook.”

  He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to mine in a hard, fierce kiss. It sucked the breath out of everyone in the room, including me. There would be no more who-who-he’s available for the rest of the day after that kiss.

  Anthony broke it, pulling away just far enough so that his whispers reached my ears, and no one else’s. “You’re lucky I’m madly in love with you, Lacey Luzzi.”

  “Fun fact,” Ira said, recapturing the attention of the crowd. “A little bit of lovin’ is said to be great for moving the baby along. I see we’ll have no problem with that in this household.”

  Nora clapped. “Yay, baby!”

  I climbed down from the exam table. “Done. We’re done here. No more. This baby is coming out when it’s ready and however it wants, whether or not I’m breathing correctly. Now, where’s my pizza?!”

  Anthony buried his grin, then pulled me close and let his hands freestyle across my backside. I swatted him away, but my little slap was useless against his firm grip and lack of self-consciousness in front of a crowd.

  He gave a mischievous wink. “I’m looking forward to my role in all this.”

  “Watch yourself,” I warned him. “Or I’ll break your fingers.”

  Chapter 15

  THE CROWD DISPERSED quickly after that, and I managed to slip away after Anthony disappeared for work things. Clay took Meg home, and Carlos retreated to rinse his brain of whatever he’d just witnessed in birthing class.

  “Where are you going, Lacey?” Nora raced after me down the hallway to the front door. “Whatcha up to?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just running errands.”

  “Baby things? I’d still like to help you set up the nursery when you’re ready.”

  I relaxed a moment, offering a smile to Harold who waited patiently at the front door, one hand on the knob, ready to move at a moment’s notice.

  “Actually,” I said. “I’d like that. I really would.”

  Tears gleamed in Nora’s eyes. “I knew you’d come around. I really did. I just knew it, Lacey. Don’t you worry. Do you want to go shopping?”

  “Actually, I have a work-type errand to run.”

  “Great, I’ll come along. I actually had a nursery prepared upstairs for the baby, you know, just in case you sort of forgot about it. I know you’re a busy baby mama, a working woman, my modern gal.”

  “Hmm,” I murmured in mild agreement. “Maybe.”

  “Come on, let me ride along. I’ll detail everything I have, and who knows? Maybe you won’t even want to shop for anything else. Maybe you’ll like the nursery as is, and we can have the men move it over to your house.”

  “This errand, Nora...”

  “Is it dangerous?” she interrupted. “Carlos bought me a new pepper spray since my last one got empty.”

  I hesitated. “How did it go about getting empty?”

  “You know, here and there, this and that.” She grinned. “Let me ride along with you. It’s been ages since I’ve seen any sort of excitement.”

  “I can’t promise you this is exciting,” I said, “though it is rather personal. And the fewer people who find out we went, the better.”

  “Hand me my coat, please, Harold. And the mittens. And boots. The pair with the steel toes in them and the fancy little knuckles that are great for socking people.”

  I winced as my grandmother outfitted herself for Fight Club.

  A ninety-year-old MMA wannabe and a pregnant lady whose water might break at a moment’s notice. We were one helluva crime fighting duo.

  “Alright,” I said with a sigh as she climbed into my car. “We’re paying a visit to a friend of Meg’s. I think he’s scamming her. Do you remember Todd?”

  “That odd little man who came with her to dinner a few nights back?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Great.” Nora rubbed her hands together. “I’m confident I can take him.”

  “We’re not taking anyone,” I clarified. “Just giving a little nudge in the right direction.”

  “I can nudge.” Nora wiggled in her seat. “I was born to nudge.”

  “How about you just let me do the talking, and you can provide the good looks.”

  “I’m also excellent at that.” Nora flicked down the mirror to resume her primping. “Now, about that nursery...”

  My head swam with baby items as Nora detailed an entire nursery during the drive to Todd’s address. He lived on the outskirts of the city in a little apartment complex not unlike my last one. A little saggy, unkempt, mostly safe for folks who minded their own business.

  “Let’s hope he’s not a runner,” I said, as I surveyed our duo once more from head to toe. “Because we’re not pursuing anyone today.”

  Nora punched one hand into the other, wincing at the brass knuckles in them. “I’m getting really warm in this outfit. I didn’t realize it was forty-five degrees outside. Maybe I’ll leave the jacket behind.”

  We tramped to the door, Nora in a short-sleeved tee-shirt with mittens and boots and pants, while I wore a parachute for a shirt and the only yoga pants that didn’t crackle at the seams when I pulled them up to my waist.

  We found the apartment number Clay had listed in his notes, and with a final glance at Nora and a deep breath for confidence, I knocked.

  “Coming,” a man shouted from the inside. “Hold your horses.”

  I stepped back from the door, trying to look like a girl scout. Hopefully Todd wouldn’t run at the first sign of two probably-unarmed ladies, but one never knew for certain.

  “Hi, Todd,” I said when the door opened. “It’s me, Meg’s friend. And Nora.”

  “Meg’s adopted aunt.” Nora stuck her hand out for a shake, stared at her brass knuckles, and retracted her hand before T
odd noticed her hidden arsenal. “How are you today?”

  “Fine.” Todd looked at us warily. He wore a pair of ratty old sweats with unidentified stains and holes spattered across them, and a loose white tee-shirt that did nothing to buff up his slim figure. “Do you need something?”

  “Actually, yes.” I stepped forward and positioned myself fully in the doorway. “You’re taking advantage of my friend.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I am not sexually attracted to Meg.” Todd raised his hands. “She’s nice enough, but she’s not my type. And she’s got a computer geek for a boyfriend who probably knows how to rig bombs in his basement. He freaks me out.”

  “He’s actually the one who gave us your address,” I said with a sly smile. “And yes, he does know how to rig bombs. On people. Trust me on this.”

  Todd finally began to comprehend the nature of the visit. And it’s lack of pleasantry. “What’d I do?”

  “You’re a phony! You are not a licensed PI, nor are you a cop. You’re a lowlife scam artist stealing my best friend’s hard-earned cash. She’s paid you almost a grand, Todd! You told her to pay you in cash in a brown paper sack? How obvious could you get?”

  “It’s part of the training,” He backtracked, arguing. “You know, under the table type payments. Maybe you just can’t find my certifications, or maybe—”

  “Cut the crap, Todd. I need you—”

  “Actually, Lacey,” Nora interrupted. “I’m going to need you to listen to me. Can I get a who-who-he?”

  “What? Nora, later, please.”

  “Ira gave me a job: I’m supposed to keep you from getting worked up if possible. Todd, do you mind if my granddaughter takes a seat on your couch? If she gets too stressed out, she might have her baby right on your floor, and no offense, dear, but I don’t think your floor is sanitary enough for my great-grandbaby.”

  Todd waved his hands, confused and annoyed. “Okay, whatever. Sure. Don’t go having babies here. I don’t have insurance.”

  “Go figure,” I muttered, letting out an unwilling who-who-hiss as I eased myself onto the couch. “Please, Todd,” I panted. “Don’t make this difficult. You’re probably a fine enough gentleman, and I would never bother you under normal circumstances. But you’re taking my best friend’s money, and worse, you’re getting her spirits up for no reason.”