Sprouted

by Gina LaManna

  “Oh, I can’t eat this.” I frowned, cutting into my steak. “It’s so bloody I’m wondering if the rest of the cow isn’t still limping around alive somewhere.”

  Meg offered a complimentary sound effect. She poked around the meat for a bit, but eventually wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, that’s better left for vampires.”

  I sighed, glanced outside. Our table was situated not too close to the front, not too far to the back. We were pushed up against one side of the room, closest to the windows, where I happened to catch the first snowflakes of the year beginning to spiral down outside. The windows were so clear it was almost as if they didn’t exist at all. The big, fat flakes floated down in mesmerizing patterns, and I stared into them lost in thought until Meg elbowed me.

  I shook myself to attention. Fidge had excused himself from the table, claiming a need for the restroom. Detective Rankle stood shortly after, declaring himself off to the bar for another drink.

  “Do me a favor,” I said to Meg, sliding back my chair once both men were out of sight and pushing my steak to her. “Can you get rid of this? Ask a server or someone to take it back—it’s giving me an upset stomach.”

  “Are you headed to throw up?”

  “Something like that,” I said for the benefit of the table. I caught Mrs. Fidge’s sympathetic eye, then patted Meg on the shoulder while trying to look ill. “I’ll be back soon. I’m going to see if I can find...”

  “Ah,” Meg said, following my gaze to the empty place settings. “I’ll take one of whatever you’re drinking if you’re swinging past the bar.”

  “A water?”

  “Okay, then a Long Island, if you’re feeling adventurous. Make it two.”

  I slipped away from the table, scanned the bar, and struck out in my search for Rankle. My senses tingled, and I had the feeling if I got lucky, I might find Rankle and Fidge with their heads together, whispering over their sneaky little plan. If luck was on my side, I might even catch a whiff of the subject matter.

  I eased into the hallway, peeking around corners as I went. I preferred to have the element of surprise on my side and plenty of time to eavesdrop, if possible.

  It wasn’t a stretch to think I was looking for the restroom, since in all actuality, I could use a bathroom break. In the back of my head, my brain was already sending signals that it was time to make that a priority, so I made a show of asking one of the servers for the route to the restroom. He directed me back toward the front doors, and I headed that way, brushing past Toby and Paul who waited, still as statues, in their designated locations.

  “Mrs. Luzzi,” Paul said, leaping to attention. “Is everything alright? Are you ready to leave? Feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, offering a smile. “Pretend you don’t know me. Pretend we just met and we are making small talk.”

  “Absolutely Mrs. er—sorry, what did you say your name was?”

  I grinned at Paul. “I’m Lacey, and you are?”

  Toby joined the conversation. “I’m Toby. Didn’t I see you here with a friend?”

  “Yes, she’s inside devouring our steaks. Say, did you see two men come this way—a few minutes apart? One of them’s older, a banker type.”

  “Sweetheart, everyone’s a banker type,” Toby said. “I couldn’t tell Jack from Joe.”

  “What about Jon?” I asked. “Or his friend, Detective Rankle. He’s a little younger, stockier. Probably looking really annoyed. They both would be, actually.”

  Toby nodded. “They went that way. One after another, two minutes apart?”

  I nodded. “Yes! Thank you!”

  “I just thought they were...” Toby gestured with a nod. “You know, an item.”

  “They’re an item all right,” I agreed. “On the black market, maybe. I’m going to go find them.”

  “We’re going with you,” Toby said. “Boss’s orders.”

  “You don’t know me, remember?” I hissed. “Give me some space.”

  “You don’t know us,” Paul snapped back. “So stop telling us what to do.”

  I rolled my eyes, wondering how I’d gotten the husband who had employees as loyal to him as German Shepherds. Though I rolled my eyes, there was a small bubble of pride inside: Anthony did inspire confidence, and though annoying, I didn’t actually mind the added muscle trailing at a distance behind as I wormed my way down the hallway.

  Until I heard the voices.

  Two voices, male, familiar. Arguing.

  I gestured for Anthony’s guys to stay back, and slid myself into an outcropping that housed a drinking fountain. The two men had slipped into a tiny conference room just beyond the restrooms. They’d left the lights off and the door open just a crack. Most of their words were mere murmurs, but as their frustrations rose, so did their voices.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fidge said. “The charges were dropped years ago. I was never booked with anything.”

  “I know a few women at your office who would like to see otherwise, so watch yourself, Fidge.”

  I could feel the flames crackling between the two men. They appeared held together in a toxic bond, neither friend nor foe, enemy nor team.

  I leaned just a bit closer, listening for the hint that’d tip me off. That’d give me the push I needed to take this information somewhere, anywhere. Confirmation that Fidge was paying off Rankle, that they were involved in something dirty together. So far, I had nothing more than I already suspected—except a hint about some old charges.

  The door to the conference room flew open. Fidge made his way back first. He stomped down the hall in a rage. He’d been in such a panic that he’d walked right by me as I’d ducked down to the water fountain and taken a sip. He hadn’t looked twice. Through the cracked conference room door, Rankle expelled a sigh of frustration.

  I glanced at the restroom doors, just a few feet away. I took one step toward them, the safety of the cement walls and air fresheners calling to me like a mermaid’s song. Just another step, and I could disappear until Rankle returned to the table, and—

  “Lacey.” His voice, smooth as silk, stopped me in my tracks. “Funny running into you again.”

  “Detective.” I turned around slowly, casting a glance behind me. My heart raced when I realized Anthony’s men were nowhere to be seen. Either they’d followed Fidge back to the entrance, or they’d ducked into hiding somewhere along the bland hallway. I hoped for the latter, though I didn’t put my heart into it since there weren’t a ton of options for hiding.

  “What brings you around here?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes gleaming with malice. He made no effort to hide his feelings this time around. “You have a habit of popping up...in the way.”

  “And you have a habit of lying,” I said. “What was that little act in there pretending to not know me?”

  “I’m undercover, Luzzi,” Rankle spit. He reached out for emphasis, his skin hot against mine as he grabbed my wrist with just a little too much pressure. I winced, and he let go. “I know you found the payments between Fidge and me, so don’t play it cool. That husband of yours, or your creep of a cousin, has been digging in my background.”

  “Clay’s not that creepy.”

  “Ah, I see–so you have found them already.” He crossed his arms and watched me carefully. “Tell me, did your oaf of a cousin happen to mention that the account in my name is run by the police department? Or did he miss that little fact?”

  “What? But, no...” I shook my head. “If that’s the case, then why didn’t you call back the dressing room attendant from the mall? Or follow up on the leads we suggested? You were trying to bury information on the bank heists to protect Fidge.”

  “That’s insane—of course we followed up on them. Do you seriously believe it’s my duty to keep any civilians—let alone a Luzzi—apprised of the police’s movements?”

  I sucked in a breath. “Whoa, whoa. So what I’m a Luzzi?”

  “You may be one of the family,
or married into the family, or whatever the hell goes on over there, but you’re part of it now. Whatever Carlos and Anthony have going on—you’re involved up to your neck, pretty lady. It’s basic knowledge that the cops don’t trust the Luzzis—they teach you that when you join the damn academy.”

  “Then why are there payments in the first place if not to cover the heists?”

  “We’re nailing Fidge for something unrelated. Bribing a cop is one of his lesser charges—and before you ask, no. I’m not at liberty to share confidential information with a civilian.”

  “We were just trying to help,” I said, my heart pounding as I realized the gravity of my error as the detective’s dark gaze pinned me. “I’m really sorry. We didn’t...we weren’t trying to interfere.”

  “You’re just like the rest of your family. You don’t think the rules apply to you.” His lips curled into a sneer. “And if you try to argue with that, then show me your legal tickets to the gala tonight.”

  When I didn’t budge at his challenge, his eyes gleamed.

  “You couldn’t even bother coming here alone tonight. Your husband’s thugs—yeah, I see them,” he said, nodding down the hall. “One of them dipped into the restroom, the other is behind the statue that doesn’t hide his fat ass!”

  Rankle called the latter loud enough for Toby to hear. Toby stepped out, properly chastised, from behind the statue, feigning indifference. From where we stood, I could see the embarrassment flushed on his cheeks.

  “I don’t...I wasn’t trying to break the law. I wanted to help. My wedding ring was stolen and—”

  “And hundreds of other people had their precious things stolen. Articles worth a helluva lot more money than your little bling, and they’re not out busting up laws and playing super woman to get it back.”

  “I only came here tonight because you were ignoring us. You weren’t following up on my leads, you were getting lump payments from—”

  “Payments you’d have no legal way of finding,” he said, adding a smirk to my misery. “And you think you don’t break laws. That cousin of yours, I could arrest him for the websites he visits before breakfast. Don’t think I haven’t read the file on your family, Luzzi. I know about all of you. If you think you can intimidate me with the Luzzi muscle, you’re wrong.”

  “I wasn’t trying to threaten you. It just...” My lip quivered, and I hated the display of weakness. I’d stepped in over my head, and I had no place to go but backward. “I’m not a bad person, detective. Neither is my family.”

  “Then leave me to do my work, and I’ll ignore most of yours,” he said. “It’s my understanding that the Luzzis and the police have arranged some sort of truce. But the second you—or anyone in that little mobster family of yours—steps a toe out of line, heads will roll. And I can guarantee it won’t be mine.”

  I backed away. My hands trembled as I reached for the door to the restroom and pushed myself inside. I stumbled toward the sinks, leaned my hands against the porcelain, and stared at my face in the mirror.

  What was I thinking? Who had I become? Me, little old Lacey, threatening a cop when I didn’t even have the full story. I had been so wrong on this case, veered so far out of my league that I’d gone entirely out of bounds.

  Because my bladder really did need relief, I quickly used the restroom, washed up, and resumed my staring contest with the mirror. Was the detective right? Had I gotten cocky in my time spent with Carlos and Anthony?

  It was true the men in my life had a way of getting what they wanted. A way of making things happen for them, for us, and I’d gotten used to it. When I needed something, it appeared. When I needed access to a place, I had contacts to get inside. When I needed information, my cousin pulled through for me. Heck, if my car broke down and I wanted it fixed on the sly, I knew where to go.

  Having been a stripper for a night in my former life, a very short-lived night that had ended in a dramatic fall from my stilettos, it wasn’t as if I had a hard and fast moral code that always landed in the bright side of goodness.

  But I also hadn’t grown up thinking myself above the rules. I hadn’t purposefully planted both shiny stilettos on the wrong side of the law. In fact, my mother had done everything she could, sacrificed a relationship with her family, so that I would have a chance at a normal life. And what had I done? Thrown it all away and gone back to them. The very people she’d left, the very ones she’d abandoned so I wouldn’t find myself here.

  I slid onto the little bench near the doorway and rested against the wall. I wondered about the idea of fate. Wondered if I’d been born destined, despite my mother’s best efforts, to end up right where I belonged.

  “Hey, what are you doing in here?” Meg popped the door open. “Is this about the raw steak? Because I have a plan to get rid of it. Lace, you look really pale. Are you gonna have that baby tonight?”

  “I’m not in labor,” I said, my hands resting over my belly where a poor, unsuspecting baby waited to enter the world with the Luzzi name attached. “Am I a bad person?”

  “What? No. I’m ten times worse than you, and you don’t seem to think I’m all that bad. Where’s this coming from?”

  “Forget it.” I gave her a wry grin. “Anyway, I ran into Rankle.”

  “Ah.”

  I filled her in on the small bit of conversation I’d heard in the conference room, then my follow up conversation with Rankle. “He told me he’s undercover, trying to nab Fidge for bribing a cop, among other things.”

  “Couldn’t he have arrested him already? We all know there were payments made to him.”

  “I don’t know. I can’t believe I was so wrong about everything.”

  “Lacey, give yourself a break. We all make mistakes. And you weren’t wrong–the situation just wasn’t what it seemed.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why’d Rankle shake you so much?”

  I knew the answer, deep down. “Because he was telling the truth. My mom raised me to stay away from all...all the Luzzi stuff. And I didn’t only walk right back into it, I married it.”

  Meg put a hand on either side of my face and tilted it upward by my cheeks. “Is Anthony a good man?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does he love you more than he loves pizza? He loves pizza a lot, you know.”

  “Yes,” I said again, feeling the edges of a smile.

  “Do you have any doubts about that? Or the fact that your grandmother is a little old sweetie who wants nothing more than a growing family, or that your grandfather—and my personal BFF—is mostly an annoying old crank, but a guy who cares about you, too?”

  “No,” I said, exhaling. “I don’t have any doubts, but—”

  “So what Rankle doesn’t like you. He wasn’t exactly being warm and friendly either, and if he’s got such a stigma against your family, well, it’s an old prejudice and he needs to give it up. Sure, you’re a Luzzi, but you’re Lacey. You don’t carry Carlos’s sins, nor do you take responsibility for Anthony’s actions. Whether Rankle’s an honest asshole or a crooked one, it doesn’t matter. He’s still a jerk.”

  I gave a weak smile. “Thanks, Meg. You’re a good friend.”

  “Oh, I know it.” She grinned and gave me a light clap on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s head back to the gala so I can properly dispose of the cow they put on your plate.”

  Because the baby seemed to be antsy, I used the restroom again while I was already there for good measure. On our way back to dinner, we checked in with Toby and Paul and explained we were planning to stay for just a while longer.

  “What I don’t understand,” I said quietly to Meg as we moved toward our seats, “if I was wrong about Rankle—if Rankle is a good cop—then what am I missing about Fidge? There’s still the bribing issue: Fidge must have done something worthy of bribing a cop in the first place.”

  “So, we’re back to square zero?”

  “I don’t know,” I repeated grimly, wincing from another one of those painful l
ittle squeezes happening in my stomach. “That’s exhausting to think about.”

  “I don’t know that we’re going to get all that much more here,” Meg said. “Maybe we should just focus on eating and enjoying ourselves. Then we go home, tell Anthony everything, and let him handle it. We can do the nursery or something instead.”

  “Crap, the nursery!”

  “There’s time.” Meg patted my hand and offered the table a warm smile as we sat down. “And, we’re back! Lacey had some of those painful squeezie things. You know, babies.”

  “Contractions?” Mrs. Fidge’s face grew concerned. “Should we call someone? Your husband? An ambulance?”

  “No, no, I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just going to finish up dinner and then we’ll probably call it an early night.”

  “Yeah, it’s a little stressful,” Meg said, leaning on the word as she turned a dirty stare at Rankle, “to be around this many people.”

  “Well, I’m amazed you came,” Mrs. Fidge said to me. “When my sister had her baby, she was on bedrest for a month before my nephew was born!”

  “Oh, boy,” Meg said. “Lacey doesn’t do well sitting still. It’s a good thing the baby likes when she moves around.”

  I nodded in agreement and tuned in to the conversation swirling around us. As a heated statement about politics roped six of the eight members of our seating arrangement into a loud and frenzied discussion, I stood, moved around the table, and paused behind Rankle.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured, only loud enough for him to hear. “About the things I said. About everything. I didn’t—I didn’t mean anything by it. And I’m sorry if I interfered with your investigation.”

  Rankle turned, a look of surprise in his eyes. “Did a Luzzi just apologize to a cop?”

  “I hope this doesn’t disturb any truce that’s been created over the years.”

  “Fine.”

  I nodded, swallowed, and hurried back to my seat. I plunked myself down just in time to see Meg lining up half the steak on her spoon.