by Gina LaManna
“Interesting.” Anthony nodded slowly, and my insides glowed at his thoughtful expression. For the first time, we were having an equal co-worker to co-worker conversation.
“So, do you want to wait with me and see if Oleg shows at ten p.m.?” I asked. “We don’t have time to go anywhere else, what with the whole car fiasco.”
“What do you want to do while we wait?” Anthony’s voice lowered, his eyes turning a shade darker. “I can think of ways to pass the time.”
“Not that.” I stood up. “But I do have a little something fun in mind.”
Chapter 11
“What do you think about this one?” I looked across the seat of my car – the tires newly inflated – to Anthony. I held out my phone, showing him a photo on the screen. “Nice, huh?”
“No.”
“This one?” I flipped to a new picture.
“No.”
“This one is very, very cute.”
“No.”
I sighed. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m fun,” Anthony grunted.
“Then how about this one?” I held out another photo.
“No.”
“You didn’t even look.”
Anthony stared straight ahead. “The answer is still no.”
I sat back in the passenger seat of my Lumina, while Anthony sat in the driver’s seat, rejecting every single one of my costume ideas for Halloween.
“I thought Meg would want to dress up with you.” Anthony folded his arms against my steering wheel. “Why don’t you find a costume with her?”
A bit of guilt poked at me. “Yeah, but I thought…I mean, this is the first year you and I are celebrating the holiday together.”
“Celebrating, huh? Now we celebrate Halloween?”
I frowned. “I had a plan, you know. I thought that maybe I could hook Meg and Clay up to go as a pair, and then you and I could go as a separate pair.”
“Like a double date?”
My cheeks flushed. “I guess.”
Anthony looked up at the ceiling. “You’re saying you want to double date at your grandparents’ estate – with your cousin and your best friend?”
“I know it sounds strange, but it could be fun!”
Anthony’s eyes continued to stare at the ceiling. “How did you manage to get coffee on the ceiling?”
“What do you mean?” I glanced up, noting a few splash marks that had magically appeared. “Yikes. That must be from the crash with Carlos the other day.” Then, suddenly realizing what was happening, I narrowed my eyes. “Hey. You’re changing the subject again.”
“I’m just not the dressing up type, I’m sorry.” Anthony gave me an apologetic smile. “I’d love to see you dressed up, though. A nice…cop, maybe? The sexy variety?”
“But—”
He opened the car door and stepped out, then turned back and spoke through the open window. “I’m going to go check with Gary, see if our man has any plans to show up.”
“You’re not going to torture him, are you?” My eyes widened.
Anthony waited a long beat. “No. I’m going to ask him a question. With my voice.”
“Oh.” I focused on pulling invisible threads from my jeans. “Right. Okay, see you.”
Anthony disappeared across the street. We had parked a block away from the shop, a distance Anthony covered in a flash.
I looked around, and a wave of alone-ness hit me. The late hours of the night had descended upon us. The streets were quiet, the only sounds the distant rumble of cars and early, early morning traffic. Oleg was supposed to have shown up at ten, and it was nearly twelve-thirty a.m. There’d been no sign of him whatsoever.
After a quick dinner, we’d set up our stakeout location. To pass the time, I’d filled Anthony in on as much as I could about the assignment without giving away any real specifics. I’d bet he could figure it out on his own without too much effort, so I didn’t want to risk the wrath of Carlos for spilling the beans.
The stakeout had been difficult. Mostly for my rear end. I ached all over, and the cool chill in the October air seeped into the car. Goosebumps popped up across my skin, and I debated turning on the heat for another stint of warm air. I had to be careful or else I’d drain the battery, and we really couldn’t go back to the mechanic shop now, not after Anthony had his way in there. Regardless, my idea about blasting the heat was a moot point, anyway; Anthony had taken the keys with him.
I sat back to wait, keeping my eyes on the shop, wondering how I’d spooked Oleg when even I hadn’t known about the shop until five minutes before. Unless he’d seen me pull up, I couldn’t think who’d alerted him of my presence. Clay was the only person with the information, and also the only person who knew my plan to check on him.
Unless Carlos had spooked him without my knowledge – maybe my grandfather had the same idea as I’d had and stopped by for a chat before I’d arrived. That would explain why Oleg had suddenly taken off for the rest of the day.
But if not, and if Oleg truly was on the straight and narrow with this job, why would he flee when he saw me coming? He should be here at work, so if Carlos had sent me to check up on him, it’d look more suspicious if he ran instead of just continuing to work. It didn’t add up; if Oleg wasn’t doing anything wrong, why so skittish?
Anthony stepped out of the shop then, walking back across the parking lot, his eyes alert as he strode down the street.
And then it hit me. If Oleg had disappeared, maybe something was wrong. Maybe something – or someone – had gotten to him and prevented Oleg from coming to work. Someone like The Fish.
“Did you find anything?” I asked, as Anthony opened the door and slid inside.
He shook his head. “Gary’s clueless. He was just putting on an act earlier, to impress you, I’m sure.”
“But Oleg?”
“Never showed up tonight. He was at work earlier today, but left about ten minutes before you showed up.”
“Thoughts?” I turned to Anthony. “Do you think he’s hiding from us? Or do you think someone got to him?”
“That’s the million dollar question.” Anthony gave a single shake of his head. “I don’t know.”
Silence enveloped the car, as we both sat still, lost in our own thoughts.
“The man whose item was stolen,” I said hesitantly. “Carlos didn’t give me his name. If I could find out the name of the person who’s missing the item, it might be a good place to start looking. I’m at a dead end with Oleg now. We can check out his apartment, but my gut tells me we won’t find anything there.”
“You’re thinking the target might’ve stolen his own possession?”
I shrugged. “Possibly. There’s multiple motivations. If he steals it, maybe he can collect money for it. I’m sure Carlos has some sort of insurance policy. But also, what if it’s an enemy of Carlos’s trying to smear the Luzzi name?”
Anthony nodded along, surprising me with his agreement. I wasn’t used to him talking to me like a viable co-worker, but I liked it. No longer was I a sideline participant – a girl in constant need of rescue from her own mistakes. Maybe I had something to contribute, after all.
“Carlos seems convinced it’s personal,” I continued. “Maybe it’s not the actual owner of the item who’s trying to steal it, but someone with a vendetta against Carlos.”
“Many people have a problem with Carlos.”
“Yes, but how many have a problem large enough to infiltrate the estate and risk everything – including Carlos’s anger – for a chance to prove the Luzzi family isn’t all they’re cracked up to be? I bet that number of enemies isn’t as large.”
Anthony turned towards me, a huge smile on his face.
“What are you smiling at?”
“Now you’re thinking like a Luzzi team member.” Anthony winked. “Watch out, or I’ll be recruiting you to be Carlos’s first female guard.”
“Ha, that’ll be the day.” I laughed, hiding my pleasure at his praise. Ant
hony wasn’t one to throw out unearned compliments, even to his girlfriend. Or so I liked to think.
“True, that’ll never happen. You’d have to pass the physical test, and that’d require a bit of work in this general area.” Anthony leaned over the car seat, wrapping his hands around my biceps. “Mashed potatoes.”
“They’re not completely mashed. More like broiled.” I did the best flex I could, but even so, it didn’t look like I had more than a pea-sized muscle in my arm. “I’m getting there.”
“How many pull-ups can you do?” Anthony dropped his hands from my biceps, letting them slide down around my waist.
“Does it matter?” My lips hovered just out of reach as he leaned close.
As an answer, he closed the gap between us, his soft lips sending just as many shivers of excitement down my spine today as they had the first time we’d kissed. My stomach tingled with anticipation, and when he slid his hand behind my head, I let my eyes close and my mind drift away…
I couldn’t say how long we sat like that, making out like two teenagers, before Anthony pulled back. His eyes had a slightly glazed look to them as his face cracked into a satisfied smile.
“That was nice,” he said.
I nodded in agreement. My mom had once told me a secret about falling in love – she’d said that passion, butterflies, attraction, all of that is important. But she said when someone truly cares about you, that’s the best part. And for all of Anthony’s teasing, his jokes, his resistance to dressing up with me for Halloween, I’d never once doubted he cared.
For the first time, I understood what my mother meant. Anthony’s smile – a subtle, easy grin full of caring – that’s what melted my heart.
“It was okay,” I said finally. “Maybe you should try again.”
Anthony laughed. “Would you like me to come over tonight? The stakeout is over. Oleg won’t be back here soon, and if he does stop by, Gary has the strictest instructions to give me a call.”
I pursed my lips. “When will I be able to come over to your place?”
“I’ve told you, when the construction is over. The place is a mess. Everything is in disarray. Half the time I sleep in Nora and Carlos’s guest bedrooms when I have an early morning at the estate. Let me get everything in place, and then you can stay over as much as you want.”
“Fine.” I gave an exaggerated sigh, though it wasn’t news to me. We’d had this conversation before. However, sometime during my sigh, I remembered an important detail. “Oh, shoot. I can’t have you come over now. You’ve gotta get out.”
“Out?”
“Yes, of the car.” I reached over and grabbed him by the shoulders. “I don’t want you to get out, but I promised Meg I’d stop by the bar and go over some plans for the Haunted House. I’m late, I just remembered, and she’ll be pissed!”
“Now? It’s almost one a.m.”
“That’s exactly my point. I’m running late.”
“I’ll go with you.” Anthony put the keys in the ignition.
“No, you can’t,” I said, my arms still squeezing his shoulders. “I think…I think it would hurt her feelings.”
Anthony paused for a moment, piecing the puzzle together. “Fine. But you’re going straight to the bar?”
“Yes. And then straight home. Don’t worry, I’ve done it a million times before at hours later than this.”
Anthony glanced towards the shop, probably wondering if Oleg was hiding from us – or after us.
“You have nothing to worry about,” I said. “Oleg isn’t after me. If he’s not at work, he’ll be long gone. He wants nothing to do with the Luzzi family anymore, Carlos made sure of it.”
“I’ll follow you,” Anthony said.
“No, I’ll be fine!”
“I’ll follow you to the bar and then keep driving. Call me when you get home.” Anthony paused. “Just let me follow you to the bar.”
I couldn’t argue when his voice turned soft. “Okay, thank you.”
“And please lighten up your grip on my shoulders. I’m going to have claw marks.”
“Sorry.” I winced. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I have show and tell at Marissa’s and Clarissa’s school, and—”
“And don’t forget about the personality test that you signed us up for.” Anthony shook his head. “I’ll see you there.”
I groaned. “I didn’t ask for that.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Anthony opened the car door. “By the way, what’s your show and tell object?”
The bulletproof bra flashed into my brain for no apparent reason, and I winced. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Anthony shook his head. “Get a move on, I’ll follow you.”
“Yes, and please try to drive better than Carlos, or at least leave some distance between us. I’m not in the mood for another crash, and I’m running low on auto body shops to call.”
Chapter 12
Anthony’s sleek black Audi cruised past as I pulled up to a meter in front of Shotz. I gave a small wave, but he was out of sight before I got my hand up to my shoulder.
It was nearly one-thirty, and I could sense Meg’s anger from out here. I hadn’t given her a specific time I’d arrive, but the unspoken agreement had been that I would stop over “this evening” for a drink and a quick chat, not stumble in a half hour before the bar closed.
Jogging up to the front entrance, I gripped the door handle and yanked. Once. Twice. Three times.
It was locked.
“Meg?” I pounded on the door with an open fist. Every now and again Meg locked up the bar early if there weren’t any guests, so I tried to keep myself calm. Tell myself that nothing was wrong.
“Meg, open up! It’s me.” I jiggled the handle. “Open up.”
“Meg’s not here,” a voice spoke from the inside.
“Julio?” I breathed a sigh of relief. Meg’s barback and sometimes bartender, Julio, lived at Shotz as much as Meg. Literally. Sometimes they slept in the back room. “Where’s Meg?”
“She says to tell you she’s not here,” Julio mumbled, though I could hear Meg feeding him lines through the door.
“Meg, I know you’re in there. It’s me.” I leaned my back against the door. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“She doesn’t know who ‘me’ is referring to,” Julio translated. “She says she doesn’t recognize your voice anymore.”
“It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I spoke to Meg. She knows who I am. You do too, Julio. Just let me in, please.”
“Meg says the bar’s closed.” Julio sounded apologetic. “Sorry, Lacey.”
“See? You do know who I am.” I crossed my arms. “Come on, Julio. I just want to talk to my friend.”
“I can’t help you,” Julio said, his voice extra loud. Footsteps sounded across the bar, but I couldn’t tell to whom they belonged.
“Please?” I asked, my voice softer.
Julio lowered his voice. The footsteps must have been Meg’s, heading back across the bar. When Julio began whispering, I held my breath.
“I can’t help you,” he said. “But there’s a spare key in the bushes for the rear entrance. Good luck.”
A second set of footsteps retreated, and I was left alone with a whole lot of bushes, and a whole little information about where the key was hidden. But Meg was stubborn, and if she said the bar was closed, she wouldn’t be changing her mind. I scanned the huge buffet of bushes lining the front of Shotz’s property, gave a long, hard sigh, and got to work.
Branches scratched at my arms, tugged at my hair, tore at my clothes. Ten minutes later, I’d scoured all of the bushes I could find. Nothing.
“Bushes…” I muttered to myself, glancing around the parking lot.
I’d thoroughly searched the shrubbery along the building. If I’d missed it during my investigation, then I’d never find the key tonight. I tried to step into Meg’s shoes. She didn’t like to put a whole lot of effort into most things, so where would be the easiest, most inco
nspicuous place…
Aha! Feeling like an idiot, I spotted one tiny bush at the corner of the property. It was a baby, still small, while the rest of the bushes had matured. I waltzed over, sure this would be the place. Easy access, tucked behind a wire fence off to the side of the building, little risk of someone stumbling upon it – this had to be the hiding location.
But when I reached the plant, there was no key. Just a little stick in the ground proclaiming what type of bush Meg had planted. I smacked my forehead with my hand, annoyed at myself for dropping the ball on my date with Meg. If I’d just texted her, I wouldn’t be here digging through leaves, rapidly running out of hiding places to scour.
I turned back to the bar, ready to pound some more on the door. I’d beg, if that’s what she wanted. Apologize. Offer to buy her a steak.
Unless…I turned back on a sudden impulse and examined the little stick that had a name of a plant on it. Upon closer inspection, the name appeared to be handwritten by Meg. And I was willing to guess the name wasn’t even a real thing: Keyus Maximus.
Voila. I yanked the marker up and, sure enough, the key swung free. It had been fastened to the little pole, resembling the bathroom key of a coffee shop or a gas station.
Wasting no more time, I broke into a light run around the front of the building, past the parking lot, and into the alley behind the bar. Though I’d never been back here, it took only a second to locate the black door with Shotz spelled out in crooked metal letters.
I inserted the key into the lock, accidentally knocking the already-loose ‘z’ in Shotz upside down. I pretended it didn’t resemble an ‘n’ and focused on getting the door open. The key finally clicked and I gave a sigh of relief.
But when the door swung open, my breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t expected to find Meg waiting on the other side of the door for me.
But I never expected she’d be standing there with a gun pointed in my direction.
“I said the bar is closed.” Meg twitched the gun so it wasn’t aimed directly at my face, pointing it just over my shoulder.
“Meg, I’m sorry – I just…” My palms were slick with sweat as I raised them. “I didn’t mean…”