Sprouted

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Sprouted Page 24

by Gina LaManna


  “You might not be a threat yet, but you’d put it together sooner or later,” he said, waving the gun with the first hint of manic. “It’s really a compliment to you, Mrs. Luzzi. You’re persistent—annoyingly so. And just smart enough to cause damage.”

  “Sorry, which part is the compliment? The annoying bit or the barely smart part?”

  He laughed softly. “Stalling won’t work. You’re right: I’m afraid that husband of yours won’t leave his wife and new baby alone for long—he’s annoyingly loyal, so I’ll make this quick. Your little girl will live. I’m not a murderer, not really, and I know she didn’t see a thing. Put her in the crib and let’s get this over quickly.”

  I hated to admit it, but a flood of relief washed through me. He wasn’t here for Bella. She’d be safe. I just had to follow orders, to stall, to find a way to alert Anthony. I had nothing—no defenses. The nursery was baby-proofed, and I most certainly didn’t keep a can of mace in here. I couldn’t even stick my finger in the electrical outlet if I tried.

  “At least tell me why you’ve come to kill me. You said I’d figure it out, but your name hadn’t even crossed my radar. I mean, sure, with the van thing—but we didn’t think anything more of it. Betty even said you didn’t know anything about it—that she’d stolen your corporate credit card number when the two of you went out for a business lunch.”

  “And you think she’d have stolen the digits if I didn’t purposefully leave it on the table, push the card across to her, and excuse myself to use the restroom?” He shook his head, eyes bright. His hair was still stringy, but he looked less mousy than before. More deliberate in his unkemptness. “I suppose Betty doesn’t remember that I’m the one who introduced myself to her. That I’m the one who set up the lunch, who mentioned the corporate vans I happened to use from time to time—a complete lie, by the way.”

  “You knew what was happening, and yet you helped it along?” I asked. “What’s in it for you? A cut of the loot?”

  “They weren’t stealing for the loot—that was a coincidence that I thought would work in my favor, the bank robbing. I just nudged that along. I never wanted to score anything from their little playtime. I was looking for something bigger.”

  “What?”

  “When I first set up lunch with Betty, I knew she was one of the secretaries scorned by that creep, Fidge. What better way to help out Betty than to guide her to some information on how her former boss was skimming from the company pot?”

  “The files on Fidge’s computer—you led her to those, too?”

  “I didn’t need to.” He laughed. “Fidge is such a lazy ass that he led all his secretaries to the files himself. Maybe he’d have been more careful if he’d known they were there in the first place. He can’t be so stupid he’d give his secretaries passwords to incriminating evidence on his work computer.”

  “If he didn’t know the files were there...” I hesitated, then my neck jerked in surprise as I stared directly at him. “You put those files there. Fidge wasn’t skimming at all—he was, and is, completely clueless!”

  “Not completely, not anymore. He knows he’s being set up, and I think you believed him.” Willy narrowed his eyes. “That’s why I’m here. The idiot couldn’t find the way around his own computer if he tried. The files are there—tucked away where anyone could find them with just a bit of digging. He never bothered to look.”

  “Wait a minute...” Things clicked into place one after another, too fast for me to keep up. “You are the one skimming from the company. That means you’re the one with the cop in your pocket.”

  “Turns out, I know a little more about computers than I listed on my resume.”

  “You’re a hacker. You set up the incriminating files on Fidge’s computer, decided you’d need a cop to help smooth things over and keep the investigation focused on him, and then you set up the payments to come from Fidge’s account straight into Rankle’s pocket.”

  “I set them both up to take the fall. Bonus points? They already knew and disliked each other from some old harassment charges.” He smiled. “Think of the story: Nepotism in a huge corporation, theft from innocent customers, a dirty cop—this story had the makings to sell newspapers. When Rankle and Fidge got locked away, it’d look great for the city: we’d have cleaned up the local police force and wiped out a sleazy scammer in a high position. Bank of the Lakes would be in dire need for a comeback, for great PR.”

  “For a leader who wouldn’t polarize anyone,” I said, thinking through the organizational chart. “You were gunning for Fidge’s position.”

  “Bingo.”

  “But it doesn’t end there, does it?” I narrowed my eyes, studied the steadiness of his hand. “Once you were close to the CEO, you’d not only be raking in the dough, but you’d be ready to swoop in and take over if...”

  “If something happened to the poor CEO.” William’s eyes didn’t even blink at the notion. “And trust me—something would have happened to that dweeb.”

  I covered Bella’s ears. She was sleeping and barely a day old, but I didn’t want her to get in the habit of name calling. “You wouldn’t have gotten away with it.”

  “That’s exactly why I couldn’t let you stick around, Lacey. You would’ve put it together—you’re too nosy to let things get all tied up with a pretty little bow. One badly timed news article where they mention me as Fidge’s successor, and you would’ve known the truth. I couldn’t risk you going to a cop—not now that I’ve sacrificed my own pawn.”

  I curled Bella closer to me. “What if I promise not to say anything? Please, I have a baby. A life. I’m getting out of the world of theft and prison and horrible things—if I never see another case again, I’ll be happy. I just want to be left alone with my daughter.”

  “Except you’ve got this conscience that makes me worry.” Willy shook his head, squinted. “The urge to do the right thing. It’s so frustrating. If I could’ve paid you off, I would’ve. Like I said, I’m not a murderer.”

  “But you will be if you pull that trigger.”

  “I’m sick of talking, so why don’t you put your little girl down so we can get this over with. She won’t remember a thing.”

  I stepped toward the crib, stalling, but coming up at a loss. It was a relief to know that Bella would be okay, but at the same time, my heart was breaking. I’d had too short a time with her—too few moments to study her gorgeous face, to catch the scent of baby powder and sweetness, to cuddle and love her. I wouldn’t see her grow up, wouldn’t watch her make friends and learn to laugh and smile and run, or to see her play with her daddy.

  I’d be gone.

  With a new determination, I took another step toward the crib, keeping my breathing as steady as possible, letting the look of fear live broadly on my face. I hoped Willy saw it—I hoped he reconsidered, but I didn’t hold my breath.

  The only way I was getting out of here was by my own doing, and I’d try my best, if it was the last thing I did. They say Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Well, I think they’re wrong. I decided then and there that Hell hath no fury like a pissed off mama bear.

  That’s when I saw it. Through my combined fury and fear, I’d latched onto the weapon that’d save me. The thing I’d hated, and now the very item that would be the raft to pull me from this stormy ocean.

  Clay’s stupid mobile.

  The thing I’d called a horrible idea and a danger to my baby just might be the only thing that could save my life. I remembered Clay’s words—that the mobile would never shoot directly downward. That it was programmed to stop attackers, a thought I’d found silly just a few days back.

  Not so silly anymore.

  Holding Bella close to me, I still wouldn’t take the risk of putting her in the crib. The mobile shot downward, so as long as she stayed in my arms, above it, she’d be out of harm’s way. I just needed to draw Willy a little closer.

  “Can you come over here and switch on her mobile?” I gestured toward it. “
She won’t be able to sleep without it.”

  Willy took a casual step toward me, but he frowned. “Stop stalling, Luzzi.”

  “I’m not stalling! I only have so many hands. If she starts to cry, my husband will come up here. Come on now, every time I try to set her down she wails.”

  “How do you know? She’s only been alive for a few hours.”

  “Because I’m her mother! Do what I say, or I can’t set her down. You probably don’t want to kill me because my husband will come after you and tear you apart, but you definitely don’t want to kill Anthony Luzzi’s daughter. That is not only the kiss of death, that’s the...” I shuddered even thinking about it.

  “Fine, fine. Move back by the rocking chair. I’m not that stupid—you’re not jumping me.”

  I gratefully took a step back. Several of them actually, figuring I’d give the mobile as much clearance as possible for its shooting range. I glanced at the place where Anthony had fallen like a sack of rocks before, and was pleased to see that Willy was right in the strike zone.

  “Happy?” He reached over, turned the mobile on, and stepped back. “Put her down.”

  I hesitated for as long as possible, until Willy started raising the gun again, and then I glared at the mobile. It was just like Clay to have a fully dysfunctional item that stopped misfiring exactly when I prayed it would do its job and work improperly. Of course it would work perfectly now that I needed it to act like a piece of junk.

  “T-thanks,” I muttered. “Except that’s not the right song.”

  I wrapped Bella tighter, tucked her onto the rocking chair. Then I took a step forward, realizing that the song was different than the one the other night, as were the colors of the lights flashing and the speed at which the mobile twirled. Maybe if I could just flick the track to a new song...

  “This one’s better,” I said, reaching around to adjust the music. “This one really lulls her—”

  The high-pitched yelp came from Willy. I’d barely noticed the near-silent pfft of the mobile releasing its first dart. I applauded internally that my theory had been correct. The music had been all wrong. Unfortunately, Willy had backed away and the dart had neatly missed his big toe by a centimeter.

  “Put it down, you maniac!” Willy shouted, no longer going for quiet. “I gave you a chance, Lacey—”

  He raised the gun as I ripped the mobile from the top of the crib and aimed the spinning animals toward him. I moved as he fired, having ducked just in the nick of time. The bullet shattered through the window behind me.

  The music continued to pulse through the mobile while I gave a last-ditch effort. I looked down the black barrel of the gun right before I dove into the closet where Bella couldn’t see me, just in case she woke. Just in case I got hit.

  The bullet sounded, ripping through the wall, and then came the cry.

  Not from me. Willy Bean went down in a heap after a rapid-fire series of darts responded to a triplet-beat in the tune of the song. Three darts straight to the chest. Boom, boom, boom. He’d be unconscious a solid week...if he was lucky.

  I stood, shaky, kicking the mobile deep into the closet and slamming the doors shut. I’d need the bomb squad to come and disassemble that thing later. Preferably before Clay heard about the incident and could lord it over me and take all the credit for saving my life with his insane device—yet again.

  Easing my way across the room, I promptly opened the bedroom door and shouted for Anthony. I kicked the gun to the opposite side of the room from him, then carefully approached Bean and toed him in the head. As I expected, he didn’t so much as flinch. I bent over to check his pulse, wincing as the sound of a dart piercing wood sounded from inside the closet, and I swore I’d take Clay’s head off. Right after I thanked him. Grudgingly.

  Then I swept over to the rocking chair and picked up Bella who, mercifully, had slept through it all. In retrospect, there must have been a silencer on Bean’s gun because my ears hadn’t rung, nor had there been a loud bang. The puff of the silenced bullet had seemed deafening at the time, but it hadn’t even been loud enough to wake the baby.

  I curled her close to me, finding a smile when her eyes flickered open and her small fists waved, just the slightest bit, before she curled closer to my chest and sunk into another round of naps.

  “Oh, wow.” Meg’s voice greeted me with a hint of awe. “What happened here?”

  “Lacey!” Anthony started, then stopped as he stumbled over the figure on the ground. “Are you okay? What, ah, happened?”

  I hesitated, giving the pair enough time to scan the room and take in the destruction.

  “Um, we had a visitor,” I said. “And he wasn’t very nice. So, I shot him with some darts.”

  “Wow,” Meg repeated. “Looks like it worked. He’s breathing, but not doing a whole lot else.”

  “It was the tranquilizers from Clay’s mobile.” I winced. “The same one that hit Anthony, but three times the dosage for a much smaller guy.”

  Anthony ran a hand through his hair while he assessed the scene with practiced ease and noted the bullet holes. By the time he finished, rage simmered behind his gaze. “Did he shoot at you?”

  “Sort of.”

  Anthony closed his eyes and sighed.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know, I didn’t mean—I had to keep Bella safe. It was the only way. He wanted to kill me. I won’t involve myself in anything like this again, I promise.”

  He let out a low bark of laughter. “Our poor daughter.”

  Meg looked over. “What are you talking about? She’s had the most exciting life on the planet and she’s barely a day old. Check this out.”

  Meg held up the newspaper she’d rolled in her hand. “I came over to show you this. She’s famous!”

  I stared at it, my jaw hanging open as I digested a stolen photo of Bella’s sweet little face plastered across the front page. The words Bella the Baby Bandit were scrawled in huge bold letters above it, and surely our story followed, sold off by someone who’d heard a whisper of the truth and elaborated enough to line their pockets with cash.

  I closed my eyes. “I wanted our daughter to be born into a normal household. Into a normal world, to have a normal life. She has no hope of feeling normal if we’ve made her famous when she’s a day old!”

  Anthony stepped over the body and put his arm around my shoulder. “Honey, look around. She was born into the Luzzi family. Did she ever stand a chance at normalcy?”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I admitted. “We had no hope for it, but I suppose that’s okay.”

  “Bella’s a Luzzi through and through,” Meg said with tears running down her face. “Y’all are so adorable. The sweetest thing. I love your little family, and I’m not sure her being a Luzzi is all bad.”

  I leaned my head against Anthony’s chest. Bella whimpered and shifted closer to us, her soft pink cheeks and plump lips pouted in sleep. If we ignored the limp figure sprawled on the floor and the signs of a scuffle around the nursery, it was the perfect moment. Quiet, sweet, comfortable.

  I pressed my lips to Bella’s forehead and murmured against her sweet skin. “Welcome to the Family, Sprout.”

  Epilogue

  “COME ON, HONEY,” I said as I strapped Bella to my chest in a baby carrier. “You get to see where Mommy used to live. Where mommy met daddy, actually. We’ll just pretend I didn’t think he was shooting guns at me, okay?”

  Meg pulled up behind me in Patty, and then slid into a parking spot that had me jumping out of the way in order to give her a wide berth. She waved as she climbed out. “Thanks for meeting me for lunch! I brought pizza.”

  I gave Meg the thumbs up as she hauled three boxes from the backseat.

  “Does breastmilk get flavored by what you eat?” Meg cocked her head. “I’m guessing Bella’s too little to share the pizza.”

  “Yeah, she’s a week old. Probably too young for all that cheese. And, you know, she can’t chew.”

  “Abou
t that breastmilk thing. If you ate chocolate, would it be chocolate milk? After the pizza, would it be like...pepperoni flavored?”

  “I’m not going to answer that,” I said. “Let’s not talk about my boobs over lunch. I’m up to my elbows in feedings and diapers and lack of sleep, and I just want to hear about something else. What’s new with you?”

  “Venus is doing great!” Meg’s eyes lit up. “I replanted him, and he’s super happy in his new home. I even decorated it with lights. Come on up, I’ll show you.”

  We tramped through the tilted old apartment building. Bella mostly slept through the tour, but I figured there’d be a time when she’d know it well. Playing with Auntie Meg would either be the most terrifying experience of her life, or the most exciting thing ever. I suspected there wouldn’t be much of a middle ground because frankly there never was with Meg.

  “I got an extra garbage pizza because Clay said he’d be home too. He actually asked me to meet him for lunch, so he might join us.”

  “Does he know I’m coming?”

  “No.” Meg shrugged. “But when does he care? We always hang out together. If he wanted alone time, he’d have said.”

  She cracked the door open and stopped dead.

  I followed behind her, my eyes adjusting slowly to the sudden darkness. The only light in the kitchen was a trail of glowing heart bulbs leading the way into the living room. I suspected Meg was supposed to follow the trail. I also suspected it’d been meant for Meg, and Meg alone.

  “I’m going to wait out here,” I said, backing into the hallway. “This seems private.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Meg said, gesturing me inside. “This pizza won’t last forever. Clay, are you around? Lacey’s here with the baby.”

  Clay popped around the corner, his eyes wide. “Oh, ah. Interesting.”

  “I was just leaving,” I said, quickly reading his expression of horror. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine! I brought pizza. I really like what you’ve done with the lighting in here.” Meg set the pizza down and pulled her jacket off, draping it over a chair. “Mood lighting.”

 

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