by Gina LaManna
“What are you doing?” I asked. “You really shouldn’t eat that. It’s practically raw, Meg.”
“Oh, I’m not eating this,” she said. “I have an idea. I hate wasting food, so I figure I might as well feed the birds. Or the dogs. Or whatever. See that open window?”
I looked up, but it was too late.
“Whoops,” she said, as her finger slipped. “There she goes.”
The steak went flying, launched from her spoon like a grenade, and it sailed, sailed, sailed through the air toward the window. Time seemed to stop as bits of sauce and meat trailed behind it like the tail of a firework.
Miraculously, Meg hit her target.
With one exception.
The window wasn’t open. Just spectacularly clean.
“Oh, crap,” Meg said at the sound of a soft thud. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
The rest of the table stopped dead, forgetting all about the grievances with the political landscape, and watched as the steak slid in a soggy red line down the window. Eventually, it flopped onto the floor.
“Well, that was an accident,” Meg said. “I think it’s probably time we head out, don’t you Lacey?”
I gaped at her, then stammered some mix of apology toward the other guests. As a man dressed halfway between a security guard and a butler began making his way with a purpose across the room, I stood, yanked Meg’s hand into mine, and bowed out.
“What were you thinking?” I hissed as we beelined directly away from security. “We’re not even supposed to be here, let alone make a scene!”
“Yeah, well, I know how you hate to waste food. Seemed like a shame to dump it into the trash.”
“Hey, Toby,” I said, giving him a wry grin as we appeared outside the hall. “Remember I said we were planning to stay awhile?”
He nodded.
“How about we cancel those plans,” I said in a low murmur. “Something’s come up, and it’s best if we get out of here. Quickly.”
“Yeah,” Paul muttered. “We saw your steak launcher from here.”
“Then we need no further explanation. Preferably the fastest route out of here, seeing as we aren’t actually supposed to be here in the first place and would prefer not to be questioned by security.”
Paul and Toby didn’t need telling twice. There may be downsides to working with those who have experience on the wrong side of the law, but there are plenty of upsides as well. For example, a lack of nagging questions.
All four of us stood shoulder to shoulder outside the elevators, ready to bolt the second it arrived. Which led to an awkward standoff when the doors opened, and the car turned out to be occupied. A gorgeous woman stood inside, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw the four of us ready to charge her.
“Hello,” she said in a musical little voice, and Toby’s jaw dropped halfway to the floor. “Excuse me, this is my stop.”
She had bright blonde hair done up in a bun, and a silvery dress that skimmed over skin so pale it had an almost ethereal glow to it. She wore long dangling hoops in her ears and a swatch of red lipstick that made Toby’s mouth water, judging by the sounds he made to lick his lips.
“Excuse us,” I said, elbowing Toby to the side in order to let the woman pass.
Paul was laughing as we stepped inside the newly vacated elevator car, but it was Meg who hesitated, looking after the woman. “Doesn’t she look familiar?”
I studied her retreating back and realized that, sure enough, she did. All dolled up without a business suit, it’d taken me a moment to put two and two together. “That’s the woman who was with Fidge the other day! She’d walked right past us in the Bank of the Lakes branch as we were leaving—she complimented Venus!”
Meg nodded. “I wonder what she’s doing here? Any chance you wanna sashay on after her and see if she and Fidge have a little pow wow in the conference room?”
I stared hungrily after her, wanting desperately to return to the party for just an hour. An hour to talk to her, to watch her interactions with Fidge, and to find out if this was the Blondie who’d taken my mother’s ring.
I stepped one toe back into the hallway, ready to try my hand at sneaking back into the gala. At the same time, one of the fancy security guards came around the corner and spotted the four of us arm to arm, waiting for the doors to close. He didn’t look happy.
“Maybe another time,” I said, withdrawing my foot back into the elevator. “How about you jam that close-door button a few times, Toby?”
Toby, still entranced by the swing of the blonde’s backside, reacted only when Paul gave him a good bruising to the ribs with his elbow.
“Get it together,” Paul said.
Toby nodded, jammed the close-door button until the panels slid shut, and then stared blankly ahead. I could feel the embarrassment dripping from him.
We found the limo and climbed inside without a further visit from the gala’s security detail. Meg was giving Paul instructions to swing by the plant nursery for a quick check when my phone rang.
“Hello, honey,” I said warmly. “How are you?”
“I’ve heard of pigs flying,” Anthony said, not to be deterred. “But cows?”
“Oh.”
“Fill me in on your evening, darling.”
Chapter 18
SINCE IT WAS ONLY ANTHONY’S men who’d been wired to listen in on our conversations, I ran Anthony through any events he’d missed during the evening.
“By the way,” I told him. “We’re quickly swinging by the nursery to check on a few things.”
“This plant thief needs to get a life,” Anthony grumbled. “There’s no money in plants. What the hell is he thinking?”
I frowned. “Actually, that’s a good question. Meg, what is this plant thief after? If he’s so broke he has to steal, why is he stealing plants? Shouldn’t he steal food or clothing or...I don’t know, entertainment? Even an apple tree would make more sense than some lousy little ferns.”
“Plants are loving life partners,” Meg said, defensive. “Maybe he’s lonely and wants some friends.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, then turned back to my call with Anthony. “I guess we’re just dealing with a nut. Hopefully we’ll catch a glimpse of him, call the cops, and wrap this case up. Meg offered to help back when she was becoming a PI, and we can’t leave the ladies high and dry. They helped save Venus.”
Anthony exhaled. “Sure. But keep Paul and Toby with you—understood? No running or chasing or throwing your steak.”
“You’re hilarious,” I said, then snapped off an I love you before hanging up.
“Anthony thinks it’s a psycho,” I said in explanation of the plant-napper. “I have to say, I am leaning toward agreeing.”
Both men in the front agreed, but Meg was steadfast in her beliefs that it was merely a lonely thief in need of friends.
“We’ll find out,” I said. “Though it’s earlier tonight than last time. You think we’ll miss him? He didn’t come until around five in the morning last time. Sorry, but I’m giving you a half hour before I have to pee.”
“If he’s smart, he’ll go earlier since he knows we were watching this place late last time,” Meg said. “If anything, we might have missed him already. I promised Marcy we’d put in some stakeout hours tonight. She’s giving me dirt in exchange.”
“Oh, gee, what a fair trade.”
“Dirt is expensive,” Meg said. “Don’t judge.”
I sat back, focusing on Sprout’s movements and those new little twinges that were coming along every now and again. I hadn’t felt them before. My mind immediately dismissed the notion of contractions because that would mean the baby was ready to arrive. And that was impossible, seeing as I still needed to put a nursery in our house and purchase a reliable car seat.
“What in the world?” Meg asked, pulling me out of my daydreams as Paul cross-parked over several spaces in the nursery lot. “He’s already come and gone?”
Meg was out of the car, ho
ofing it toward the nursery grounds before I managed to shift the center of my mass far enough along to open the door on my side. I waddled after her, dreaming of the foot rub Anthony had started before we left. Maybe I could convince him to pick things up where he’d left off with a few magic words.
“What is this?” Meg lifted something that looked like a wad of paper in her hand. “Is the thief going soft?”
She sounded disappointed at this development. As I inched closer, I could see the stack in her hands wasn’t plain paper, it was very expensive paper—money in the form of hundred-dollar bills.
“He left this under a rock at the front door,” she said, disgusted. “Can you believe it?”
“Um, why is this a problem?”
“It probably means he’s done. Why else would he leave money? He’s done, and he doesn’t want us to come after him, so he left more than enough money to pay for everything he’s taken. Look—he didn’t even break the gate on the way in; he daintily unlocked it.”
“I think that’s a good thing?”
“What sort of PI am I if I can’t actually find the bad guy?” Meg frowned. “I just inspired him to turn all noble and good. Where’s the fun in that?”
“Don’t you see?” I clasped my hands on Meg’s shoulders. “You’re better than the average PI. You’re the best. This guy was so terrified of you that he anted up so you wouldn’t chase him down. He wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t scared the bejeebers out of him.”
“The bejeebers,” Meg said, contemplating. “Yeah, I guess. Let me give Marcy a call and see what she thinks.”
She dialed, leaving the phone on speaker. Paul and Toby hung back, hands shoved in pockets, pretending to examine a few of the blooms near the gate.
“Marcy,” Meg said, gesturing me to stand closer. “It’s your PI here, Miss Meg. How are you doing? Say, we’re at the nursery right now, and I have a weird development for you.”
“What’s wrong?” Marcy asked. “Has he come back?”
“Yes, and it looks like he took something.” Meg toed the ground near the front door to the offices. Snow had fallen earlier in the evening, leaving the imprint of a circle around the base of a recently evacuated plant. “A little pot right near the door. I don’t know what lived in there.”
“Ugh, that’s our display,” Marcy said. “Why’d he have to take that?”
“I don’t know, but our thief has developed a conscience. He left money behind.”
“Money?” Marcy paused. “How much money?”
Meg thumbed through the bills, frowned, and handed them over to me. “Counting’s not my strong suit,” she said. “I’m letting my assistant handle the finances—I’ve gotta save my brain power for the really complicated stuff.”
I flipped through, then counted again. There was nearly two grand in cash. “Eighteen hundred,” I said with a low whistle. “Marcy, will that cover the expenses for whatever was stolen?”
“Oh, look, there’s a note.” Meg bent over and retrieved a scrap of paper from the ground. On it was a light smattering of melted snowflake and chicken scratch handwriting. “It just says sorry, and thank you. That’s all. No signature.”
Marcy remained silent. “I’m sorry, but did you just say he left eighteen hundred in cash? Even with the display, he only took three hundred dollars’ worth of inventory.”
“Looks like this thief netted you a profit,” Meg said. “Good job, you crazy cats. Maybe you should advertise the ease of robbery around here and really up your margins.”
Marcy spluttered in surprise. “But this—that’s insane. I hope he comes back. I’d thank him! On what planet does this make sense?”
“My vote is earth,” Meg said. “Since that’s where we’re at now. Venus might disagree.”
“Um, I’ll be right down there to collect the cash,” Marcy said. “I’ll make sure nothing else is missing, but if it’s not...” She gave a low exhale. “This is the best news. Thank you, ladies. Do you really think this is a sign the thief will leave us alone?”
“I’d strongly guess yes,” I said. “And really, you should only thank Meg. She’s the brains behind this whole operation.”
“Only the best PI at your service,” Meg said. “That’s me, in case you were confused. I’m the best.”
Marcy hung up, and then appeared at the storefront five minutes later. A quick inventory of the nursery led her to announce that nothing else had been taken.
“It’s a miracle,” she said. “I’m—I’m confused, but I’m excited. Here, have some of the cash.”
To my surprise, Meg bowed, shook her head, and pressed the money back into Marcy’s hands. “Just spread the word of my business,” she said. “And of course, keep me supplied with dirt.”
“Of course—whatever you need.” Marcy grinned, leading the way to the parking lot and closing the gate behind us. “Thank you, again. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Actually,” Meg said. “I did have one question. If I accidentally fed Venus tequila, but now he looks better than before I fed him tequila, does that make him an alcoholic?”
“Also, to add to that,” I said quickly. “Does Venus need a blanket if I leave him by the window? I think he likes the moonlight, but it’s a bit drafty over there.”
“Okay, now you guys are scaring me,” Marcy said. “Your plant doesn’t need a psychologist. Just water him when the soil gets dry and get him a bit of sunlight.”
“Right,” I said, nodding as we waved goodbye and climbed into the vehicle. “Thanks.”
Marcy drove off first, and we followed close behind in the limo. My hands were splayed over my stomach, and not for the first time, I experienced a serious pang of worry.
“I am a little concerned about my ability to raise a well-adjusted child in this world,” I said. “You’re asking about tequila, and I’m ready to knit blankets for my plant. Have we gone crazy?”
“Lacey, Lacey, Lacey...” Meg reached over and patted my hand. “Stop worrying. There’s no hope for your baby to be normal—he or she is going to be a Luzzi.”
The limo carted us home, and I realized, after saying goodbye to Meg and unlocking the door to my house, that she was right. This poor baby would be a Luzzi. Born into a world where even the cops knew his last name, and feared it. What sort of life was that for an innocent child?
Feeling a sudden kinship with my own mother, her hopes and fears and dreams for me to have a normal life, I realized I’d once been that little Luzzi baby she’d run away to protect. I eased onto the couch and waited there in silence. Just for a moment. To be alone with my thoughts, to breathe, to think.
“Lacey?” The soft voice startled me. I hadn’t expected anyone to be here except Anthony since, after all, it was our home.
I tried to jump, but my belly kept me pinned to the couch, and my jump of surprise was more of a violent flinch. “Nora? Is that you? What are you doing here?”
My grandmother appeared near the staircase leading to our seldom used second floor. She smiled across the darkness, only the glint of moonlight beaming across the wooden floorboards. It reflected brightly, and illuminated her crooked grin.
“I’m sorry to startle you,” she said softly. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m here. I really didn’t mean to intrude. This time, I mean it—I was planning to be gone before you got back.” She wrung her hands. “I know I...ah, meddle from time to time.”
“No, it’s fine, Nora—it’s just late, and I didn’t expect anyone but Anthony. Is everything okay?”
My grandmother seemed especially subdued, and I didn’t quite know what to make of it. My mind immediately flashed through my family members.
“Is it Carlos? Is he okay?”
“Everything is fine. Perfectly fine.” Contrary to her words, Nora raised a hand and wiped a few brilliant tears from her cheeks. She missed a few that sparkled, radiant under the silvery glow. “It’s just me being emotional. You know, crazy Nora.”
“You’re n
ot crazy.” I patted the couch next to me. “What’s on your mind?”
She laughed, a quiet chuckle. Instead of sitting next to me as I expected, she reached a papery hand out and grasped mine. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, but may I show you something? Anthony let me in tonight. I did call and ask permission, I swear. I’ve given up breaking in here—Carlos gets so frustrated when I do things like that.”
I laughed. “Yeah, Anthony doesn’t love when I do that sort of thing either. What did you want to show me?”
Nora let go of my hand after pulling me to my feet. She exchanged her grip on me for one on the railing of the staircase to the second floor, clasping it tight with hands more wrinkled than I remembered. Thinner, frailer than I liked.
Something about the lateness of the night, the unnaturally somber tone to her words, made her seem older. I followed her up the stairs with sound effects of an asthmatic donkey, wondering what had caused her vibrancy to dull.
“I hope you’re not upset with me,” Nora began. “I completely understand if you are. I can have Carlos move everything back—er, his team, I suppose. His back is on the fritz these days, and, anyway, what am I babbling on and on about. Here.”
Nora gently pushed open the door to what had been a sparse spare bedroom just days ago. Neither Anthony nor I spent much time up here, but we had kept it lightly furnished in case of visitors.
The spare bed no longer existed. The space itself had been completely transformed from a nondescript extra guest room into something quite magical. The walls were now painted in a soft yellow, with light blues and pinks splashing in stenciled patterns around the edges in cute little shapes. My heart began thumping with appreciation as I realized what she’d done.
“When I said I asked Anthony for permission to be here, I meant for tonight, but also a few other nights,” Nora said. “As soon as you’d mentioned not having the time or energy to prepare the nursery, I thought maybe this could be a little gift to you and the baby. If you hate it, I’ll pay for it to be professionally redone however you like.”
I stepped into the room, lit by the soft glow of an elephant nightlight near the corner. A small bookshelf crammed with worn titles sat along one wall. A changing table, also used, judging by the bumps and bruises along the wood, rested along one side, while a huge, squashy rocking chair sat opposite a state-of-the-art crib. Baby paraphernalia, stuffed animals, diaper changing necessities filled in the rest of the spaces, and when I pulled open the closet, it was stuffed to bursting with adorable little onesies and outfits so small and sweet they brought tears to my eyes.