by Gina LaManna
“I trust you’re doing what you think is right,” I said, stressing the you. “But I haven’t given up on the bomb. I’m sorry, but if you’re pulling rank, then I’m breaking it.”
I could see how Anthony had achieved the position in the Family he held now. Unless he was a truly heartless person – which I didn’t believe – he was hurt, just like me. And if not hurt, at least conflicted. We’d been getting along so well, but apparently the old adage was correct about not mixing work and play. I regretted the moment Carlos urged me to work side by side with Anthony.
Was a gig worth our relationship falling apart?
I didn’t know that answer. No one could possibly know that answer. There wasn’t a right or a wrong one. I needed money, a job – I owed Carlos a follow-through on his assignment. People’s lives were in danger within the next twenty-four hours, under the threat of a bomb. The choice, as hard as it was, didn’t feel like a choice. I couldn’t knowingly let a bomb explode and injure innocent people.
When Anthony couldn’t come up with a response, I hit the dial button and waited for Clay to answer.
“Hi, can you come pick me up?” I asked when I heard his voice.
“Sure.”
“Do you need directions?” I asked.
“I know where you’re at, cousin. Come on,” Clay said, as if upset that I doubted his ability to track me at all times.
“Thanks. See you soon,” I said, hanging up and looking down. I didn’t have my purse on me, and I’d washed these clothes recently. Where had Clay stashed his dang tracking device this time?
Anthony leaned against the wall of the warehouse that was apparently abandoned and completely free of fireworks, despite hours of work his men had put in staking out the place. I still couldn’t understand how their information had been so wrong. Weren’t they supposedly the best in the business?
“You can go,” I said to Anthony. My shoulders sank. I wasn’t so much sad anymore as resigned. Disappointed, maybe.
“I’ll wait,” he said simply.
It was an awkward ten minute silence until Clay’s creep van trundled down the otherwise quiet street. Fede stood dutifully at the edge of the street and gave a wave as Clay drove by. A moment later, the homeless man copied him and waved in Clay’s direction as well. The former, probably because he recognized a fellow Family member. The latter because – well, probably because he wanted to be included in the party as well.
I waved back to both the men as I climbed in the car. It was a bit depressing that I had taken to waving to people who clearly weren’t trying to get my attention. But it was my birthday and I was lonely. I could wave to whomever I wanted.
“You know—” Clay started, as I buckled my seatbelt.
“I know they weren’t waving to me,” I snapped. “Drive.”
“Okey dokey. Someone took their grumpy pills today,” Clay said, as he stepped on the gas. “Wanna talk about it?”
I stared blankly out the passenger window as my gaze met Anthony’s. His was full of what could’ve been remorse, but it was hard to say for sure – he maintained his business expression that didn’t have space for me. Our eyes remained locked until my line of sight was torn away as Clay turned the corner.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Clay said, whistling a tune as he merged onto the highway. “Where we going?”
“Home, please,” I said. “It’s the middle of the night. I’m gonna get some sleep tonight and get to work in the morning.”
“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” Clay asked, casting a look in my direction. “You seem fairly, uh, distraught. Not that I know much about emotions or anything.”
“I’m fine, really,” I said, turning my head so I faced out the window. My words fell flat even to me, and my reflection in the mirror was anything but fine.
“You don’t seem—”
“I’m tired,” I said. “I had a busy day and a late night. I am nowhere near solving the fireworks case, and I’m even less close to finding the sauce. I have twenty-four hours left to do both and I’m a little stressed. That’s all.”
“Stop stressing,” Clay said. “Anthony’s working on it. He’s close, I’m sure of it.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Makes me feel even better.”
“Did you two have a falling out?” he asked. “Seemed a bit icy back there. Colder than Antarctica, actually. Below zero. We’re talking dry ice temperatures. We’re talking middle of winter—”
“I get it,” I said. “It’s nothing. Just a business disagreement.”
“You have to stop worrying,” Clay said. “I hate to see you like this.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I confessed. “I feel like I’ve exhausted all my leads and it’s just falling short. How do I fix it? What do I do next?”
“What’s your plan?” Clay asked.
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “Anthony is busy with something else now, so apparently I’m on my own.”
“Ah,” Clay said. “I see. But listen, I know Anthony. He’d never leave you alone on this. I’m sure he has plenty of men on it. Nobody will get hurt, I promise you.”
“How can you know that?” I asked.
Clay’s cheeks brightened.
“You, too?” I asked. “What the heck is going on? Why all the secrets?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clay said, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly it looked like ten white sausages were driving.
“You know something I don’t,” I said, the exasperation seeping from my voice. “Cripes. This is just great.”
“It’s not—”
“Don’t tell me,” I interrupted. “Anthony has almost solved the fireworks case, and he doesn’t need my help.” I suddenly saw the logic – the reason everyone was acting weird. “You knew about it. So did Anthony. So did Fede. There’s no real threat anymore, they just wanted me to feel like I was doing something.”
Clay’s eyes were wide, staring straight ahead at the yellow lines flying past, underneath his car, reflecting off his headlights in the dark of night.
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “This is unbelievable. No wonder. Anthony wasn’t lying. It wasn’t that he thinks the fireworks case is unimportant. It’s that he’s either solved it already, or has almost solved it. He’s probably happy I left, so he could finish the job in peace.”
“I don’t think that’s the case—”
“Of course it is,” I said, now on a roll. “So when Fede showed up with new information on the firearms issue, Anthony felt it was more important only because the bomb was taken care of.”
Clay’s ears were redder than a beet.
“You knew about it. Anthony knows about it. I bet you Carlos knows about it.” I shook my head again, feeling like I had a very bobbly neck. “You all must think it’s so funny, so entertaining to have a woman in the Family business. Tell me, were you going to solve the mystery and then let me take all the credit, laughing about it behind my back?”
“It’s not because you’re a woman,” Clay blurted.
“I knew it,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “You know about it.”
Clay’s face was the epitome of misery. “It’s for your own good.”
I’d heard that enough for today. I was a thirty-year-old woman – I knew what was good enough for me. And even if I didn’t, it was about time I learned.
“Take me to Meg’s,” I said. “I’m staying with her for tonight.”
“Meg’s?” Clay asked weakly. He glanced at the clock. “It’s before two a.m.. Wouldn’t she still be working?”
“Even better,” I said. “Take me to the bar.”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING here, chickadee?” Meg asked as I stomped into her bar, followed closely by Clay.
“Just in the area,” I said tightly. I caught her sneaking a confused glance at Clay. For a moment, I wondered if Meg was in on this whole keep Lacey in the dark thing, but dismissed it immediately. Anthony wouldn’
t have coordinated with Meg. She had no say in anything related to Family business. Anthony didn’t even coordinate with me.
“Can I have an extra tall, extra wide, extra strong vodka diet?” I asked.
“You don’t need to diet, honey,” Meg said. “Let me get you the good stuff.”
“Can I stay here tonight?” I asked, as Clay awkwardly slid up next to me at the bar. Meg had already turned her back and begun gathering a stack of fancy ingredients for a drink that was anything but diet.
I shot Clay a hurt glance and faced the bar.
“Lace...” he started. Thankfully, Meg – being the amazing friend she was – turned the blender on high speed, barring any conversation from happening, which was completely fine with me.
“You know I’ve just been sleeping in that room back there, right?” Meg asked.
The way she said it made it sound as if she was confined to an uncomfortable closet. But what her customers didn’t know was that Meg’s backroom contained more cozy couches and chairs than I had in my apartment. Her television was large and in charge, and she had access to all the beverages, cherries and olives that she could consume. It was actually a pretty sweet setup.
“I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ll sleep on an ottoman. Heck, I’ll put a sheet on the bar and sleep here,” I said, gesturing towards the long wooden platform on which I leaned my elbow. “I just need a place to crash. I’m heading back to Stillwater in the morning, and it’d be nice if I could just wake up and get a move on.”
Meg plunked down a frothy drink that looked somewhat like a piña colada, but smelled like a tequila bomb had exploded all over it. “Sure, whatever you need, hun. I’ll come with you. You don’t fool me – I know you need a vehicle.”
“You’re the best,” I said, trying for a smile. It was a miserable attempt and Meg clucked at me in sympathy. “You can go, Clay,” I said. I wanted my voice to sound firm and sure, but it betrayed me and came out more as a series of sad sounding squeaks.
“Are you sure...” Clay began, looking helplessly between me and Meg.
“I’ll walk you out,” Meg said to Clay. She winked at me, and I gave her a grateful twitch of my lips that counted for a smile. “Lacey, finish your drink and then, I dunno, brush your teeth or lotion your head, or whatever you do before bed. Your lack of beauty routine baffles me. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I took a long sip of the surprisingly delicious beverage as Meg hooked her arm through Clay’s and marched him straight out of the bar. When she took over the bar, she had actually reduced the number of bouncers she kept on staff, and now I could see why. She made an excellent bouncer. The drink didn’t take long to slurp down, and I worried for a moment she’d laced it with crack. The thing was delicious. Then again, it could’ve just been an excessive amount of sugar. Sugar and crack had about the same effect on me. Not that I’d know anything about the latter – it wasn’t like I’d tried it.
The quick consumption of the drink caused a brief, yet excruciating, cold headache. I hung my noggin between my legs for a moment, mostly because I couldn’t remember if the action supposedly cured nausea or cold freezes. Either way, it was worth a shot.
When my brain was able to process thoughts once again, I stood up and deposited the empty glass in the sink behind the bar. I made my way to the bathroom attached to the living space behind the bar – it was closed off with “Employees Only” and “Do Not Enter” signs. No less than fifty sheets of paper were stapled to the door. There was even one gem that said “Beware of Bears.” Below the warning, the sign proceeded to list fifteen acceptable ways to deal with a bear encounter in the woods.
Fitting, I couldn’t help but think, as I pushed the door open. Julio lay sprawled on the couch, watching the latest soccer match in some language that wasn’t English.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m gonna sleep here tonight.”
“Fine,” he said.
“Uh, Meg’s outside right now. Do you need to man the bar or something?” I asked, hoping for a bit of privacy. I really just wanted to lie down and get some rest. I was exhausted.
“Nah,” Julio said without moving the slightest muscle from his position sprawled all over the couch. “I’m good.”
“Oh, uh, okay,” I said. “Do you sleep here, too?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“Tonight?” I asked.
“Dunno,” he said.
Exasperated, I shook my head. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t rush,” he said.
I made a mental note to tell Meg she ought to give Julio a friendliness lesson. I didn’t feel much loved by him at the moment. Shouldn’t bars strive to make their customers feel appreciated?
I already knew Meg’s answer – you don’t count as a customer if you don’t pay.
Opening my wallet, I found sixteen dollars and sixty-four cents. I left Julio to the screaming announcer on the television and snuck back into the main area of Shotz. I found a tip jar with a sign that read: “I need drinks, too! Tips are welcome. XO, Meg.”
Dropping all of my money in the tip jar, I headed for the entrance. I’d cooled down some and though I wasn’t happy with Clay or Anthony at the moment, I didn’t need to act like a child. Plus, there was limited space at Meg’s bar, and I didn’t feel like sharing the couch with Julio. Now that I was thirty, I’d probably start to get cricks in my neck from pulling stunts like that. I wasn’t twenty-nine anymore, able to sleep on any surface I could find.
If I could catch Clay before he took off, then I could sleep in my own bed, which was sounding better and better by the second. One step outside, however, and familiar voices speaking in low tones caught my attention. I wouldn’t call myself a psychic, but judging by the way Clay and Meg stood half hidden in the shadows and glanced around every now and then, particularly in the direction of the bar, it was clear they didn’t want to be overheard.
I hung right inside the doorframe, sneaking peeks around the corner at the two of them every time I dared.
Meg laid her hand on Clay’s wrist and leaned in, speaking forcefully. I could only make out snippets of the conversation, but it almost looked as if they were...flirting.
“Let’s not tell her yet,” Meg said.
“We have to,” Clay said, his voice dropping out for a moment. “—she’s miserable.”
“One more day. She’ll find out at the—”
At the what? I leaned forward to hear, but accidentally dislodged an empty beer can that’d been hidden next to the staircase. It clattered to the ground and all conversation seized for a moment. My heart pounded so hard in my chest I could feel it in my ears. My breaths became shallow, and I squeezed my eyes shut, praying they’d continue the conversation.
Maybe I was being snoopy – okay, I was definitely being snoopy. But more and more, my Spidey Senses tingled. Actually, I needed a new word to replace Spidey. I didn’t even like spiders.
Ooh! My Sugary Senses. Much better.
More and more, my Sugary Senses were firing off alarms on all cylinders. Did Meg and Clay have a secret romance going on? It sure seemed like it. But could that really be the reason for all this secrecy? And if so, what did Anthony have to do with Meg and Clay’s love affair?
“She’s going to hate it,” Clay said. “I told you we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Do we really have a choice?” Meg asked.
“Yes, we do,” Clay said.
I peeked around the corner to see Meg’s response. I was internally cheering for them to work things out. When the opportunity came up, I’d tell them that I didn’t mind at all. I’d also mention that I hadn’t been snooping, but that I supported them both – individually and together as a couple. And that it was all because of my Sugary Senses and a lucky guess that I’d figured it out. Definitely not because I was a Snoop-a-saurus.
I watched as Meg stepped forward, one arm still on Clay’s wrist. “I don’t feel like I have a choice.”
“I can’t stand seeing Lac
ey miserable,” Clay said. “It all just feels...mean.”
Get it, girl, I thought. At one point, I’d thought the two of them would make an insanely odd choice as a couple. Seeing them together now, however, I wasn’t so sure. They were both quirky and different and, beyond that, they were both kind. And they were both my friends.
Ahh, I thought. Nothing like young love to melt residual anger away. I still hadn’t figured out Anthony’s involvement, but maybe he’d caught them kissing and they’d asked him not to tell. Anthony was many things, but a liar he was not. Alternatively, he didn’t know anything about the pair and simply wanted to solve the case on his own.
Regardless, now that the reason for Meg’s and Clay’s shiftiness the past few days had become clear, I couldn’t hold onto my anger; it slipped through my fingers like sand. I couldn’t help it. They were adorable. I had half a mind to walk out right now and wish them the best. And ask if I could I pretty-please be the maid of honor at the wedding.
But I would’ve felt too rude interrupting their sweet moment. Instead, I popped into the back room and said ‘bye to Julio. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence, but I wasn’t bothered. Floating on cloud nine for my friend and my cousin, I waltzed right back out to the bar. Their getting together had been a long time coming and I couldn’t wait to tell them how much I supported their new romance.
Sitting down, I poured myself a Diet Coke. The tequila was beginning to hit me hard. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem on my birthday, but I did still need to get up in the morning. After all, the sauce was waiting. Even though my crappy day seemed a little less crappy now, the newly minted love in the air wouldn’t be finding any barbecue sauce for me.
I had barely twenty-four hours to deliver the sauce to Carlos and confirm that Anthony had solved the bomb case. Reflecting back on the bigger picture, I realized it’d be silly to be mad at Anthony. We were on the same team, after all, and if his work on the fireworks-turned-bomb case saved lives, then that’s all that mattered.
Anthony could take all the credit, and I wouldn’t mind. If he’d just told me.
Clay and Meg reentered the bar with not-so-subtle stomping noises.