Lacey Luzzi Box Set

by Gina LaManna

  She winked and thumbed over her shoulder at Anthony, who was striding into the place dressed in his nicest suit and tie, looking every bit the ideal groom.

  My stomach did a little flippy flop, wondering if Anthony would ever be tied down. Then, I realized that I wasn’t even sure he didn’t have a girlfriend somewhere else. Sure, he’d knocked into me with his gun on the plane, but it was possible he had a hot Brazilian singer or a lanky Scandinavian model waiting for him at some exotic location. He was a man of mystery, and his love life was shrouded by a thick veil of intrigue. Frankly, I didn’t even know what he thought of me.

  I pushed the thought away, reminding myself I wasn’t yet ready for that kind of commitment. Especially not if it came with a baby anytime soon. Or two, as demonstrated by the overachiever family on the plane.

  The tiny, wizard-like man heaved a sigh of relief at Anthony’s presence. “Oh, good. What a handsome groom we have here. Joey?”

  “Sorry,” said Anthony. Then he approached the small man and whispered some words at a decibel below my hearing capabilities.

  With a solid handshake that most likely exchanged a few bills, the small man left hurriedly through the front doors. Seconds later, the sound of a clunky exhaust pipe reached our ears and the dusty old car rattled off into the fading Vegas sunset.

  “You’ve got a way with words,” Meg said admirably. “I probably would’ve just punched him.”

  “They let cops do that?” Alfonso asked.

  “I’m not technically on the job right now,” she said, her eyes not quite meeting anybody else’s in the room. “Or for the past few years, for that matter.”

  The sound of an approaching car silenced all talk.

  “Off to the side,” Anthony said. “We need to let them get into the chapel first, just in case they try to run.”

  “Roger that, sir,” Meg said. “Copy that shit.”

  We repositioned ourselves—Meg, Clay, and I on one side of the small church, Anthony and Alfonso on the other.

  “Get your head down,” Meg hissed to Alfonso. “You’ve got the sun over there just hanging out on your scalp.”

  Alfonso scowled, but ducked behind a huge vase of pungent roses. I was surprised to see they were real. I didn’t expect real flowers in a church as cheesy as this one. I leaned closer to sniff the pot of roses on our side. I took a deep breath and burst out in a fit of coughing.

  “They’re fake, dufus,” Meg said. “It’s just perfume. It’s kind of like how I shower. I just pretend, say I did, and then spray a ton of rosebud scents on my armpits.”

  “That’s disgusting,” I said.

  “I mean, I shower sometimes,” she said. “Like once a week. Or when I eat Korean BBQ. Sometimes that’s two or three times a week.”

  “That smell really lingers,” I agreed. “I always have to air my sweatshirts out after one of those meals.”

  There was a moment of silence both inside and outside of the chapel.

  I took the moment to survey the church: large pots of fake roses lined the aisle, and to either side were rows of mismatching white, wooden, and black metal folding chairs. A small altar at the front provided the stage for the couples getting married, and a few snapshots of Jesus had been hung in dollar store frames around the walls.

  “This ain’t right,” Meg said, standing up. Her knees crackled with the effort. “Romeo and Juliet deserve a proper greeting.”

  She leaned forward and snapped off a dozen fake roses from the huge vase. She took a few steps forward, cradling them like a baby and parading towards the chapel doors, despite my hushed pleas and Anthony’s sharp reprimands.

  “This just ain’t right,” Meg repeated, silencing Anthony with a glare. “Have some respect.”

  She proceeded to give me a bouquet of kind-of-droopy fake flowers. Then she broke a few flowers in half with her teeth and stuffed them in each of the men’s pockets for makeshift boutonnieres.

  Anthony’s entire face went slack and he shut his eyes as she poked a rose into his chest pocket.

  “Whoopsies, sorry about that.” Meg gave him a pat on the chest. “Mighta accidentally poked a bit hard right through this flimsy suit. You’ll wanna get that stitched up.”

  “Get back to your spot.” Anthony’s voice was a thin warning.

  “Right-o, sir.” Meg hustled back behind Clay. Even she could sense the malice in his voice at this point.

  She ducked down just in time. A car door slammed shut outside and there were a few shouts about how much was a proper tip for a driver that didn’t know shit. Then, a few pairs of dusty footsteps stomped up towards the door. On the inside, we took a collective breath and pushed against each other. I was under the impression that each of us was trying to become the wall.

  “Hurry up, Joey,” Vivian whined. “My dress is getting dusty.”

  “I’m coming, my love.” The door creaked open and there was a sickening thunk as the first pair of feet appeared inside the chapel. I winced as Vivian’s hand flew to her head, her small frame bobbing in Joey’s arms.

  “Oh, sorry, dear. Did I clip your head on the doorframe?” Joey’s voice sounded thunderous in the chapel.

  “CLIP MY HEAD?” Vivian’s feet popped into sight as Joey attempted to carry her through the door. “You nearly popped it right off! What are you thinking? Be more careful, idiot. Now I’m going to have a black eye for our wedding.”

  “Baby, it’s just that your hair is so big, I couldn’t tell...” Joey trailed off as they stomped up the aisle, not realizing there were a bunch of people hiding behind potted plants. Leo followed soon after. He was still in his priestly attire, a cross dangling from his neck.

  “My hair is BIG?” Vivian snapped her fingers and her gum at the same time. “You wanna tell me that one more time? I’ll tell you what’s not big. Your little...”

  She whipped around, opening her blood red lips to continue her insult. Unfortunately, she paused halfway through her turn as her eyes suddenly made contact with mine. “What are you doing here?”

  The next moment, everything burst into chaos.

  Meg let out a huge breath and a huge fart at the same time, a feat I didn’t have time to dwell on in the midst of everything else.

  “Been holding that awhile,” Meg murmured as she leapt forward. Clay was right behind her. I was knocked on my ass as Alfonso rushed past me and took a flying leap at Leo. Anthony took two strides to the front and sunk Joey to his knees with a fancy maneuver that took less than two seconds.

  Leo screamed while Vivian shouted a stream of expletives that combined the Italian and English language like they’d never been joined before. I sprinted to Vivian, but once I got there, stopped abruptly. We stared at each other in a weird no-blinking-first contest. It felt as if we were trapped in a peaceful little snow globe, while the rest of the chapel had broken out in guerilla warfare.

  “Hey,” I said. “I, uh, think I might need to arrest you.”

  “You’re not a cop,” she said.

  “Yeah, well” I shrugged. “I have to do something.”

  “Why? What did I do wrong?” Vivian flounced her hands on her hips.

  “Uh, you kidnapped somebody.”

  “No, I didn’t. I didn’t even know about that. I was sad about Kiki not being here, remember?” She flicked her nails, surveying them as if a chip would be the most disastrous thing in the world right now. “And don’t even get started on Leo—I didn’t know a thing about that.”

  I tapped my front tooth with my fingernail, a bad habit that sometimes helped me to think. Or at least I thought it did. “Hmm.”

  “Face it. The only thing I did wrong was change which guy I was getting married to. And plenty of people do that. Happens all the time, just read the magazines.”

  I shrugged. “It just seems so wrong, what you did to all those people.”

  “Yeah, but at least now I’ll be happy in my marriage.”

  “Will you, though?” I asked. My voice took on a much higher p
itch than I intended.

  “Yeah. We’re destined to be together, me and Joey.”

  She shot a loving look in the direction of her big, orange bear of a fiancé. He was trying unsuccessfully to fight off Anthony, who held him down with a few fingers.

  “Hey, let him up,” Vivian said. “We’re going to get married.”

  “Nobody’s getting married,” Meg said. “We’ve sent that cute little priest home, unfortunately.”

  Anthony clasped a set of cuffs on Joey, then another set on Leo, who just stood with his mouth open. He’d tried to run at the last moment, but ran smack into Meg and bounced off, right into Anthony’s hands.

  “What are we going to do with them?” I asked Anthony as we stared at the three captives. Vivian had squeezed herself into Joey’s lap.

  “Listen,” Vivian said. “You really don’t have anything on any of us. So, I’ll tell you what. You let us get married here and then you can do whatever you want with us. I’m assuming Leo’s in trouble with Carlos, and maybe Joey, too. But I didn’t do nothing wrong. And we got our whole wedding party here. We’ll be real cooperative once we’re married.”

  “Come on, please?” Meg begged with her hands clasped together. “This is adorable.”

  “No.” Anthony shook his head.

  “Oh, lay off. It will take two seconds,” Vivian said. “Have a heart.”

  “You have to let them,” Meg said. “Except, wait a second. I already told you the priest went home. And I think this one’s a fake.”

  Leo looked offended. “I am not a fake. I was supposed to do their original wedding before they broke up.”

  “This is perfect!” Meg nodded. “Anthony, please?”

  I pulled Anthony off to the side. “We’ve got a little problem. Vivian’s right, she hasn’t really done anything wrong. She’s also part of the Family. Leo and Joey are idiots, but have they really broken any laws? Sure he faked his death, but probably plenty of people do that.”

  As I surveyed the three, a thought suddenly occurred to me. “Oh, shit. Where’s Kiki?”

  “You didn’t find her yet?” Joey asked, his confusion seemingly genuine.

  “No, we thought she was with you.”

  “No, I didn’t kidnap her,” Joey said. “I have an alibi.”

  “You do?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He blushed a little bit.

  I glanced over at Vivian, who was flushing furiously.

  “Oh,” I said. “All right then, who took Kiki?”

  “I thought you were supposed to solve that?” Vivian asked. “I’ll tell you what. It would be really convenient if you would just let us get married. Then we’d all be able to go find Kiki.”

  “But I thought she was on the plane with you guys,” I said. “Her name was on a ticket.”

  “Well, then she was flying solo,” Vivian said. “Good job, detective.”

  “Just let them get married, already,” I said to Anthony. “I’m tired, and we need to find the maid of honor.”

  “Oh, speaking of,” Vivian said. “Lace, do you mind standing in for now? I like you, most of the time. You can be my maid of honor.”

  “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t have you guys get married now, on second thought,” I said. “We could find Kiki first.”

  “Nope,” Anthony said. “We’ll just get it over with.”

  Was there a twinkle in his eye? I couldn’t tell. If so, I wanted to punch him. I was in no mood to be a maid of honor.

  “Great, Anthony, you look the sharpest. You’re my best man,” Joey said. “Can we take these cuffs off for the ceremony?”

  “No,” said Anthony gruffly, probably as annoyed as I was at the sudden turn of events. Neither of us had expected to be promoted to the wedding party.

  “Except for one thing, Lacey. You can’t wear that,” Vivian said. “You need to change.”

  “I don’t have a change of clothes,” I said.

  “Good thing I do.” Meg winked. “I knew it would come in handy.”

  FIVE MINUTES LATER I was pinned, stapled, and sewn into Meg’s sequined gold gown.

  “I told you not to wear sparkles,” Vivian said furiously to Meg. “You shouldn’t have even brought that thing.”

  I met Viv’s furious gaze. “Well, it’s this or sweatpants.”

  “Fine. Sparkles,” Vivian snapped. “Leo, read from that damn book.”

  “The Bible.” Leo cleared his throat once, twice, three times before he started the ceremony. Despite the fact that we were in Vegas, surrounded by chapels where Elvis presided and Darth Vader regularly stood in as best man, this had to be the strangest wedding of all.

  Leo read from the Bible, his hands still cuffed behind his back, while Alfonso reluctantly held the heavy book and turned the pages. Joey stood holding a bouquet of flowers to cover his cuffed hands, while Vivian faced him in a cloud of fluffy white fabric. I dazzled in my sparkly gown off to Vivian’s right, while Anthony stood to Joey’s left. Meg and Clay sat in the front row, tears streaming freely down the former’s cheeks.

  When it came to the ring exchange, the bride and groom shifted slightly to accommodate the handcuffs. Kissing the bride was a tad more difficult (Joey tried to dip Vivian, but abandoned the idea quickly) and the smooch lasted a lot longer than usual.

  “Enough,” I finally said, as Joey’s tongue seemed suctioned to Vivian’s mouth. “That’s gross.”

  They smiled.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Leo said, three minutes after the ceremony had started. “Ooops, I was supposed to say that earlier. Oh, shit.”

  “Don’t swear during our freaking ceremony,” Vivian said. “Can’t you wait two minutes?”

  “What the hell,” Leo said. “You’re married!”

  Vivian threw her bouquet. I dodged it quickly. Meg dove and missed. It landed limply on the floor, all eyes surveying it testily.

  “Well, somebody pick it up,” Vivian said.

  Meg snatched it quick as lightning and made blinky eyes at Clay, who turned away just as fast.

  “All right. We good here?” I asked. “Time to find your maid of honor.”

  “You’ve found her,” a voice said from the entryway of the chapel. In the midst of the bouquet tossing, none of us had noticed the door open and a figure appear.

  “What?” I squeaked.

  “Who is that?” Meg blurted.

  “Shit. Donald?” Vivian asked. She turned to me and hissed. “The banker.”

  “Donald?” I asked. “What are you doing?”

  “Shut up,” Donald said. “I’ve got a gun.”

  Mr. Boring Banker suddenly became a lot less boring and a lot more terrifying as he pushed a second figure forward. Kiki stumbled into the light of the chapel, as Donald stepped from behind the plant that had partially shielded his face. He was as average as expected: average height, average beer belly, and an average amount of hair loss for someone who looked to be in his early forties. The only thing completely shocking about him was the gun dangling from his fingers.

  Kiki had fallen to her knees from the push, shaking and whimpering on the red rug beneath her.

  “Help,” she pleaded. “Help me.”

  “Why have you done this?” Vivian took a step forward, but Donald’s gun clicked in a menacing way.

  I looked over at Anthony. He’d also made a move for his gun, but had paused when the click echoed throughout the chapel. I briefly took a moment to wonder where Anthony had obtained a gun, since he’d declared he hadn’t carried one on the plane. Then again, now was not the time to wonder about Anthony’s mysterious methods of obtaining weapons.

  Donald trained his sights on Kiki and pressed the gun to her temple. He then addressed our group. “You’re going to listen to me.”

  We looked at him and nodded, one by one. Anthony gave a single nod, but I could tell his mind was working hundreds of miles an hour, similar to mine. I didn’t see a way out of this with Kiki escaping alive.

  Clay nodded, but both
he and Meg remained sitting perfectly still in the pew. I watched as he slipped his phone out of his pocket and started fiddling with some of the buttons.

  I gave him a patronizing look. What was Clay playing around with—was he trying to get Kiki killed? Even if he managed to get out a 911 call, it would be much too late by the time the cops arrived.

  “What do you want from us?” I asked, raising my hands as the gun swiveled for a moment in my direction before returning it to Kiki’s temple.

  “This will be easy if you follow the steps I’m going to list out very clearly. In order—just like a boring banker likes. First of all, I’m going to search you. I’ll give you one chance to drop all your weapons and phones and crap like that. It’s going in a pile over here. Do that now. If I find anything on you as I search you, she’s dead.” He flicked the edge of the gun against Kiki’s skull and she let out a cry of fear.

  “Just tell us why you’re doing this,” I said, slowly removing my phone from my handbag and tossing it to the floor. I sucked in my breath quickly with realization. “You brought Kiki on the plane—that’s why she had a ticket. Just... nobody thought to check for a ticket in your name.”

  Donald smirked. “And? Do you have it figured out, you sparkly little thing?”

  I paused. Even under intense duress, I was a teensy bit self-conscious about just how dazzling my dress was. Then again, maybe I was bright enough to show up on a satellite somewhere and someone would come and investigate the anomaly, accidentally saving us. In the meantime, I had to keep him talking.

  “Well, when the TSA agents told us that Kiki didn’t show up with Joey, I didn’t know how or why she’d be getting on a plane to Vegas.” I glanced down at her tear-stricken face. “She’d been locked safely in her room last night, but had disappeared by the morning. There was something odd about that, for sure, but I didn’t piece it together until now. She didn’t board the plane of her own free will, she boarded it because you forced her to. Except that we didn’t list you as a suspect, so TSA didn’t mention you. Did you use an alias?”

  Donald nodded. “You’re a little smarter than you look, I’ll give you that much. Next time, just tone down the glitter.”