Lacey Luzzi Box Set by Gina LaManna

Author:Gina LaManna [LaManna, Gina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humor, janet evanovich, amateur sleuth, cozy mystery
Publisher: LaManna Books
Published: 2019-04-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

SLIPPING INTO THE DENSEST underbrush we could find, Meg scattered a few evergreen branches over her bike, perched where we’d stashed it behind the thick bush. We weren’t hidden well, but unless someone was specifically looking for us, I hoped it’d be good enough. Seconds after we’d lodged everything into position, including Meg’s wild hair, the rumble of a four-wheeler sounded a short distance away. Meg barely had time to poke my visible hand with a pointy stick before I tucked it against my body and huddled near the closest tree trunk.

Luckily, the man from the house on Sixty-sixth Street sailed right past, his eyes barely darting from the road before him. His hair blew back in the wind, sailing free on his vehicle.

“Did you see that?” Meg mouthed.

I wasn’t sure if she was referencing the fact that the man looked like a greasy Herbal Essences commercial, or that he carried a large sack affixed to the back of his four-wheeler. The bag was cloth – a heavy burlap material tied securely with what looked like twine. It was hard to tell since he passed us by so quickly, but it was clear that it was full of lumpy objects which clanked with a distinctly metallic noise. With as little rustle as possible, I followed Meg a few steps to the edge of the clearing. Probably looking like cartoon characters, we poked our heads under the low hanging branches and watched as Grease Ball (my new nickname for our four-wheeling friend) parked the vehicle and unloaded the sack in a hurry. It was almost too heavy to carry, and he set it down for a moment, his face wincing with the effort as he wind-milled his arms and massaged his shoulders.

“He’s got a good masseuse technique,” Meg said. “I can appreciate that. But either that bag is happy to see us or...”

My friend trailed off as my eyes followed her pointed finger. Sure enough, the burlap sack clearly outlined a long rod sticking straight up in the air. Though I couldn’t tell for sure the contents of it, I had a burning hunch it was in the firearms family. Either that or the bag contained a supremely well-endowed metallic broom.

“Yikes,” I said. “That doesn’t look good.”

“I beg to differ,” Meg said.

I gave her a funny look, but she quickly revised. “I mean, I like guns.”

I didn’t bother to ask which type of guns she meant, and instead focused on watching Grease Ball as he slid the sack onto his shoulder and moved with pained-looking steps towards the log cabin. A light clink-clank made me uber suspicious of the contents in the bag, and my initial assessment that he was a just a normal guy moving to suburbia was quickly disappearing. I had no reason to believe he was doing anything illegal. Building a cabin on one’s own plot of land was perfectly legal, and so was toting around a pack of metal objects. Maybe they were building tools, or farm tools or, you know, a large metal broom.

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