Better Off Dead : A Lucy Hart, Deathdealer Novel (Book One)

  Chapter 5

  THE AIR smelled better, richer, the sun was warmer, and just being back in her home town... correction, the city, made every step Lucy took better. Her nerves were still there, but after she stopped at Starbucks for the first non-fat caramel-mocha latte she’d had in six months, and took that first, heavenly mouthful as the taste burst on her tongue, a surge of absolute certainty rose in her.

  She would get what she wanted. There was no two ways about it.

  She was going to win.

  Luvici’s office was on the third floor of a rundown brownstone building. The elevator creaked and hadn’t been cleaned in about a gazillion years, but it was better than huffing it up three flights of stairs.

  Lucy wanted to look and feel calm and beautiful when she went in to blackmail Luvici. She didn’t want to be breathless, sweating, and worn out.

  Plus, Luvici might like the whole sweaty thing way too much.

  The foamed glass door had Luvici Law Offices in faded, peeling gold lettering. The door wasn’t locked, so Lucy took a deep breath and walked through the door, flashing the young, blonde, bubble butted—and probably headed—secretary one of her most stunning smiles.

  The blonde’s smile was sweet, but her eyes gave away a little So, what do you want? attitude.

  Lucy started to sidetrack around the secretary. “I just need a moment of Mr. Luvici’s time.”

  Unexpectedly the blonde maneuvered herself between Lucy and Luvici’s door. “Sure, Miss. But Frank... I mean, Mr. Luvici, is booked all day.” She put her hands on her hips, and Lucy could see that she was going to give her more than a little problem. Could Lucy just push past her? The blonde’s smile was still Snow White perfect, but her eyes had a hard edge to them.

  “But it’s important.”

  “If it’s that important, then you’ll need to make an appointment.” Obviously this wasn’t her first time rebuffing solicitors from her boss’s door. “I think he has an opening in about two weeks.”

  Lucy put her hands on her hips and glared at the woman. Well, might as well throw out surprise number one.

  Lucy put her hands up in mock surrender and then sashayed over to a small bank of waiting-room chairs lining the opposite wall. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and shot the blonde her best smile.

  “Miss, I don’t think you—”

  “I didn’t catch your name,” Lucy cut across her.

  “W-what?”

  “Your name? I don’t remember asking. It was rude of me.”

  The blonde got a startled expression on her face, making her smile falter. Without the smile she looked five, maybe ten years older. That alone could be why she was boning a schmuck like Luvici.

  She pushed away the thought of how her own looks had faltered, and in only six months time.

  “Darla,” she mumbled before plastering a mere shadow of her former smile back on her face. “My name is Darla.”

  “Well, Darla. Would you be so kind as to tell Mr. Luvici that Scarlet Jones is waiting for him?”

  Darla shifted uneasily on her four inch, absolutely lovely Italian leather heels. Lucy could see the gears spinning around in the blonde’s head. She recognized the name, but couldn’t quite place it. “Scarlet Jones?”

  Lucy leaned back in the chair, making herself comfortable. “Yes. That’s the name. I’m sure Mr. Luvici will want to see me.”

  Darla opened her mouth to say something, but Lucy cut her off with a smile and a, “Thank you so very much.”

  The secretary turned and wandered back to her desk, looking very confused, her brain straining to put the name together with what information she’d forgotten. It was like watching a science fiction movie robot short circuit.

  Almost in slow motion Darla leaned over her desk and pressed down on the phone’s intercom button. “Franky... I mean, ah…Mr. Luvici? There’s a Scarlet Jones here to see you.”

  There was a thud from the direction of his office. A big one. Like the sound of a body, or a bowling ball hitting the floor. Darla rushed over to the office door and swung it wide open. She gasped.

  Luvici was on his butt on the floor, about a dozen papers scattered around him, his leather swivel chair rotated by itself about a foot behind him. Luvici’s mouth was still slack jawed, a stunned gaze on his grizzled face.

  And then recognition dawned over that ugly face, and an even uglier smile curled on his lips as he took in the sight of Lucy and her denim clad legs.

  “Lucy Hart. My, my... you’ve grown up so very, very nicely.” He heaved himself up off the floor and brushed off his knees and pudgy bottom. “Sorry about that, I misheard what Darla here said.” He squinted his beady brown eyes at his secretary.

  “Nope,” Darla said, shrugging her shoulders and squatting primly in her way-too-tight skirt and started picking up the papers Luvici had dropped. “She said her name was Scarlet Jones.”

  Luvici turned and squinted his little weasel eyes at Lucy now, clearly not liking the turn things had suddenly taken. He was over forty years old, had a full head of shortly clipped blond and gray hair, broad shoulders and a sagging chest that melted into a pronounced belly. And though he was tall, and the shoulders and hair should’ve given the illusion of stature, his cheap rumpled dress shirt and tie made him look low rent.

  But he did have pretty blue eyes, and if his smile wasn’t so lecherous, he’d be handsome.

  Lucy forced a beatific smile on her face as she said, “Sure did, Franky. I really need to talk to you. Alone.” Lucy let her eyes flash to Darla, and then meaningfully back to him.

  Luvici didn’t look happy. Actually, he looked ill, and every second he stood there, squinting malignantly at Lucy, the redder his face got. Finally he let out a big sigh and raked a hand across the back of his neck.

  “Sure thing. I always have time for Adam Hart’s little girl.”

  Lucy stood up, closed her eyes for a second before walking into Luvici’s office. She swung her hips as she walked, making sure he didn’t miss it.

  By the time she turned around, Luvici was pushing Darla out the door, slamming it shut on his own thumb. He cursed under his breath as he put his injured digit in his mouth.

  He hurt himself because he couldn’t keep his eyes off me. Lucy smiled with triumph. She sat slowly, letting him get a real long look. Maybe this won’t be as hard as I thought.

  The office reeked of cigarette smoke and vinyl office furniture. Luvici’s desk was big, clunky, and made of painted green aluminum. Tacky, much like Luvici himself. Dust motes fluttered through the streams of sunlight coming through the window.

  He came around to his side of the desk and watched as Lucy crossed her legs again. His grimy tongue slithered out from his mouth and licked his cracked lips.

  “So, little Lucy Hart... whatever can I do for you?”

  First, never say my name again.

  “I so totally need your help... the teensiest little favor.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

  “And what would that be?” He leaned back in his leather chair, and was, as usual, undressing Lucy with his eyes.

  Lucy quelled a shiver of revulsion and instead met his lecherous eyes with a cool gaze. “I need some of Daddy’s money.”

  Luvici just sat there, his expression never changing. “Money?”

  “Yes, I need some of the money you hid for Daddy. I’ve got lots of stuff to get before I go to college. And then there’s tuition money, new clothes... and a car.”

  Luvici raised his hand to stop her. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but what money are you talking about?”

  She leaned forward conspiratorially. “You know. The money you saved from the IRS. The money you hid... somewhere for Daddy... for when he gets out.”

  She didn’t know how to tell if he was lying. He was a professional liar, with a college education in advanced treachery, and had probably interned a few summers in double dealing. But as he shook his head
and looked at her, she knew all too well what was etched on his face: pity.

  Lucy bit her lip. In the last six months she’d seen enough pity in people’s eyes to last her ten life times.

  “He doesn’t have any hidden money, does he?”

  “No,” Luvici said, smiling with the most infuriating empathy. “They were thorough. Seized everything he had before they even arrested him.”

  “I see.” Lucy felt like her chest was about to collapse. All her renewed hopes and dreams were starting to fall apart around her like little black snowflakes, making her vision cloud up. She shook her head, refusing to tear up again. She was done crying.

  If there isn’t any of Daddy’s money, then there’s always his...

  She looked Luvici straight in the eye. “Blackmail is such an ugly word.”

  This got his eyebrows to furrow. “I didn’t say anything about blackmail.”

  “I know,” Lucy said, “but since I’m about to blackmail you, I thought I’d bring it up.”

  “You’re going to blackmail me?” Luvici practically chuckled.

  “Scarlet Jones would probably love to learn how you skimmed an extra thirty percent off every contract you drew up for her construction consortium.”

  Luvici smiled. It wasn’t a friendly or generous smile. It made him look like a hungry, feral animal. She felt her flesh crawl, yet she pushed herself on.

  “I remember Daddy saying Ms. Jones had a nasty reputation for reeking bloody vengeance on people that cross her.”

  Luvici raised both hands, mimicking the gesture Lucy had used on Darla. But he did it better.

  “Yes. If I had it to do over again, I would’ve heeded the rumors about Scarlet.” He sighed sadly. “Beautiful creature, but so bloodthirsty.”

  “Then you can see—”

  “That’s why I’ve already made restitution—and then some—to Ms. Jones.”

  Lucy sat there in a moment of shocked silence. “What?”

  “You see, your father already used that one on me. That’s the only reason I defended him. Friendship doesn’t go far in the real world. Just—”

  “Cash and good PR,” Lucy finished for him absently.

  “You sound just like your father, sweet-meats. Too bad you think just like him too. But slower.” He reached into a drawer and Lucy jumped as he pulled something out. She was sure it would be a gun, or a knife, or a really big gun. But it turned out to be a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He leaned back as he tapped out a smoke and then lit it up and drew in one, two, three deep drags from it.

  “Would you like one?” He held out the pack to Lucy.

  Lucy grimaced. “A world of no.”

  “So, you see, I made sure no one else could use that one against me again. And in the process, now I’m tapped out. I couldn’t pay you anything even if I wanted to.” He looked Lucy squarely in the eyes, and then winked. “Not that I want to.”

  Lucy reached into the folds of silk that clung about her breasts. This got Luvici’s undivided attention. The smile fell right off his face, replaced by a sudden rush of ruddy lust. Even his ears were turning red. Her fingers brushed across the cheap vanilla paper, and she caught it between her fingers, extricating Luvici’s business card from her cleavage.

  She held it up, turning it so he could see the back of the card. “Has your home number on here. Wonder what the wife would think if I told her about hot little Darla out there?”

  If anything, Luvici seemed to enjoy what she’d just threatened him with. His smile turned down right grotesque.

  “Knock yourself out.” He said, “My wife doesn’t care if I screw every woman in California, as long as it’s not her.”

  Lucy gasped a convincing “Oh...” Though, truthfully, she hadn’t expected him to care. The bit about Darla was just the set up. The real hook was just around the corner.

  “So, if you’re quite finished with this little extortion scheme, I’ve got work to do.” He was just starting to stand up, his big, gnarled paws on his desk as his arms labored to pry him out of the leather chair.

  “Think she’ll care about Kenny Fry?”

  Luvici froze. His expression didn’t change, but Lucy could see something pass behind his eyes. “Kenny who?”

  Okay, Lucy. Nice and steady.

  “You know, Kenny Fry. He’s in my class, well... what used to be my class. He was some kind of football hero. Had a full ride to UCLA before he was even a junior, took the team to state two years in a row before he got injured. Tore his knee right up.”

  “I’m sorry, Lucy. I really don’t—”

  “You represented his family when they sued the hospital and doctors that couldn’t fix his knee.” It was Lucy’s turn to wink at Luvici. “Daddy said you tried every dirty trick you knew to get that family some money.”

  “Well... yes, I remember now. I tried my best. But we lost.”

  She leaned back into her chair and sighed. “Yet somehow Kenny’s been riding around in a spanking new, candy-apple red Camaro all year long.”

  “I have no idea how he’s paid for all that. I just hope he isn’t doing anything illegal.” Luvici tried to sound disapproving.

  “I don’t think he’s the one doing something illegal.”

  Luvici stood, his face red again, this time with rage. “If you think you can just come in here and accuse me of... of...”

  “You know,” Lucy chirped conversationally, “Kenny turns seventeen next month.”

  Luvici’s skin turned pale and sweat broke out instantly on his forehead and upper lip. He mopped a hand over his forehead as he sat back down, and he stammered repeatedly before he finally got out, “But he’s your age. He’s a senior. Seniors in high school are eighteen.”

  Lucy shrugged. She had him...

  “I’m eighteen, sure. But that’s the funny thing about the United States Educational System. I was born a month too late, so I couldn’t start Kindergarten until the next year. Where Kenny, he was born a month earlier, the next year. So he started a whole year before he should’ve.

  Luvici was practically the color of chalk, and his hand shook as he rubbed the back of his neck over and over again.

  “He’s really...”

  “Sixteen? Yeah.” Lucy pursed her lips and nodded her head helpfully. “Jailbait.”

  Luvici shook his head.

  “I mean, your wife might be tolerant of... you know, things like Darla. But if you were ever implicated in a child molestation case…”

  “Wait just a goddamn minute!”

  “Well, I’m sure she could handle the shame, the scandal. I’m sure she’d be just fine with her friends at the country club whispering behind her back.”

  Luvici was turning green, and he was holding his head in his hands.

  Time for the kill.

  “And I’m sure Caroline’s father would be thrilled to hear about this.”

  Luvici’s head shot up, his blood-shot eyes boring into Lucy.

  “Caroline’s father is Ramon Castelli, right? The Ramon Castelli?”

  Ramon Castelli wasn’t just Luvici’s father-in-law, he was a real live, fit you with cement shoes gangster.

  Lucy was about to suggest ways Ramon might “thank” Luvici when the greasy lawyer said: “Okay, you win.”

  Lucy leaned back in her chair. “I win?”

  “You win, Miss Hart. Anything...” His hands were shaking. “I’ll do anything at all. Just don’t...”

  Cool. “Okay, then. What I want is enough money to go to a good school, purchase a great new wardrobe—fall, summer, and spring—and a car. I was thinking something flashy yet economical on gas… maybe a hybrid.”

  Luvici started chuckling mirthlessly. He chuckled long enough to peeve Lucy off again.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You.”

  Lucy squared her shoulders. “Why am I so funny to you?”

  “Well shit!” He slam
med his fist down on his desk, making Lucy jump. “I told you before, I’m tapped out. Broke. It took everything I had to pay back that psycho Scarlet.”

  “Oh...” Lucy genuinely felt confused. “But you said anything at all.”

  “I meant as in legal representation. I thought—maybe—you’d want to try to get your precious Daddy out of jail. Maybe sue someone over something.”

  Does that mean you didn’t do everything you could for him? The thought was like holding a red hot, double edged sword. On one hand, she was instantly angry he hadn’t done right by her father. On the other hand, her father didn’t give a damn about her... not anymore. So why was she letting herself get upset over him?

  Lucy closed her eyes, shook her head and took in a long, slow breath. Get this crap out of your head! You can’t give up this easy...

  Sure you can, the mean little voice chimed in. I’m sure you can just go back to McDonald’s tomorrow. Things will be just like they were, like nothing ever happened.

  Lucy wished the mean little voice was real, as in something or someone she could reach out and strangle.

  That wonderful heat bloomed in her head again, the heat that ignited whenever she got really annoyed. It made everything sharper, more focused—and it made her feel strong.

  “Fine. No cash, no problem.”

  Luvici’s eyes got round with surprise. “No problem?”

  “Nope. None at all.”

  Luvici let out a breath and slumped in his chair with relief. That lasted three seconds.

  “But since you’re offering me your legal services in more of a barter/blackmail scenario, then you’ll need to find me some sort of deal.”

  “A deal?” His eyes darkened as he started to understand he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  “Yeah, a nice fat deal. Maybe... I don’t know...” Lucy really didn’t know. She’d planned out the whole blackmail the shyster lawyer routine, but she wasn’t a legal eagle. What kind of deal would get her the money she needed, but didn’t involve actual work, or something unimaginably dangerous?

  Then she thought of something she’d read about online. Something she’d thought was not only a tacky piece of petty crime, but that seemed to involve no actual work at all.

  Perfect.

  “I’d like you to set me up one of those arranged marriages. You know, where I marry a rich, illegal alien for a big-fat-hefty sum of money... and then six months later we get divorced.”

  She could literally see the gears twirling around in Luvici’s head. There might just be more than a hamster on an exercise wheel in there...

  “That’s something I don’t usually delve into.”

  “But you have some experience in the matter?” Lucy was suddenly sitting on the edge of her seat. She could just make out the sparkling diamond at the end of the tunnel. “That’s something you could set up for me?”

  Luvici nodded. “Sure,” he said, reaching for the cigarette he’d set down when they started talking. It had burned out already. He picked up his pack and tapped out another one. His hands were still shaking as he sparked it up, but after one enormous inhalation a sort of calm settled around him.

  “I just don’t think you realize all that goes into one of these arrangements.”

  Pregnant pause. She had to prompt Luvici to continue. “As in?”

  “Well, for starters, the Immigration Department is a real bitch about this sort of thing anymore. They’ll put you through the ringer. They’ll investigate every aspect of you and your groom’s lives, including family, friends, and work acquaintances.”

  The family thing struck a fairly dissonant chord for Lucy. How on earth would she explain this to her grandmother? Gram will kill me...

  “And the penalty for trying to pull this over on the U.S. Government and failing is steep. Five years imprisonment and a fine…” He let that hang in the air for a moment. Lucy felt her mouth go dry. Prison? She’d be just like her father.

  Luvici continued. “Then there’s the mandatory two years you’d have to be married, and living as man and wife with this would-be suitor.”

  “WHAT?” Lucy’s voice exploded from her mouth. “Did you say two years?”

  Luvici gave her a shrug and raised his eyebrows. “Two years is the mandatory minimum. Plus you’ll have to go through the fed’s scrutiny for that entire time.”

  Two years... The thought made Lucy’s stomach churn. That’s a hell of a long time to pretend to be married to a stranger. And even if I could make my family believe it...

  “So, how much are we talking about here? Payment wise. It would have to be a lot, right?”

  Luvici bit his lip as he mentally calculated. “I’d say... somewhere between fifty to sixty thousand dollars.”

  There was a zero missing in that figure. Lucy wanted to go to a good school, the kind that ran around a quarter of a million dollars to graduate from. Not to mention she wanted to have nice things: great clothes, an apartment with a view, and a new car.

  Fifty or sixty grand would only get her to a state college, in a dorm, with a used car. She wouldn’t even have enough to guarantee she finished.

  “The lump sum of that would be paid only after the two year...” Luvici paused, obviously trying to come up with a better word than the one on the tip of his tongue.

  “Sentence?” Lucy finished for him. It was the word that was on the tip of her tongue too.

  “There would be some small disbursements, but the balance would be withheld until the end.”

  “Peachy,” Lucy fumed. “So I sit around playing Little Wifey for two years before I’d get to even start my life?”

  “Breaking the law isn’t as easy as it sounds.” Luvici snubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray, and then cracked his knuckles. “And don’t forget, one little slip up and Immigration will bend you over until your knees bend both ways.”

  Ewwwww! So freaking gross... “Thanks for the visual.”

  Darla’s nasal voice buzzed over the intercom.

  “Mr. Enoch is on line one.”

  For a moment Luvici looked down at the phone console on his desk like it was a snake ready to bite him. Seconds ticked by.

  “Franky? Did you hear me?” Darla shrieked. “You know I hate talking with that guy!”

  Luvici smashed the intercom button with his meaty forefinger. “I freaking heard you!” he barked. Lucy could’ve sworn he growled like an animal as he picked up the receiver and pushed the button for line one. “Dante, I was just going to...”

  The blood drained from Luvici’s face again. If anything, he was even paler than when Lucy had brought up Kenny Fry and Luvici’s father-in-law.

  “I know,” Luvici croaked, hand shaking as he reached for his smokes again. “It’s just... you can’t find that kind of girl just standing on the street corner. If you could, then I’d have a freaking chorus line of them for him to choose from.”

  Lucy didn’t hear the voice on the other end yell or scream, but whatever it was saying to Luvici was making him shimmer green. Even his eyes seemed to be trembling in their sockets.

  And then he looked at Lucy. He looked downright surprised to see her. Whoever it was on the phone must’ve been scary enough to make Luvici forget what he’d been doing.

  I really, really never want to meet someone like that.

  And then Luvici’s eyes got that sharp, shark-like glint to them again, and his cracked lips peeled back into a rather disturbing smile. “I think I might just have what you’re looking for. Can I call you back?” Luvici listened to the voice on the line, looking fairly anxious. “Sure, I can put you on speaker phone.”

  With the press of a button Luvici set the receiver on the console and said, “You’re on speaker, sir.”

  “My name is Dante Enoch,” a most cultured voice spoke. “Whom am I addressing?”

  Luvici gestured for Lucy to speak.

  “Lucy Hart,” she almost choked. Then
with a quick little cough she said it again. “I’m Lucy Hart.”

  “Well, Miss. Hart. I’m an attorney, and I represent the Enoch family’s interests.”

  The man’s brittle yet refined voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Great, another lawyer...

  She looked to Luvici and mouthed, “Who?”

  Luvici shook his head with annoyance. “Enoch Incorporated has its hands in almost every type of business you can think of. It’s a multi—”

  Dante’s voice cut across Luvici with an edge of warning. “Let’s just say the family is well off.”

  She wagged a chastising finger at Luvici, mouthing “Bad boy.”

  I wonder if they have one of their “hands” in the cosmetics industry. The diamond sparkled in her mind’s eye.

  “What I am looking for, Miss Hart, is a suitable young lady to play a part of sorts. Have you had any acting experience?”

  “Sure,” Lucy said to the chilling disembodied voice. “I was the lead in the last three end-of-year productions: Clueless, Bring It On, and Rent.

  “You can sing?” Dante asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Uh-huh.” His sigh had a definite edge of disappointment. “Any other experience?”

  “Well, I have had boyfriends, and they all believed I would sleep with them. But not one actually got to.”

  Luvici groaned and his head fell into his hands again.

  “Fascinating, Miss Hart. I can’t wait to meet you.”

  The feeling’s not mutual, creepy lawyer guy.

  “Francis...”

  Francis? Lucy couldn’t stop the smile from blooming across her lips. Luvici shot her his middle finger.

  “Yes, Mr. Enoch.”

  “The usual place, in let’s say... an hour?”

  Luvici gulped and shot Lucy a look of horror, looking her over from head to toe. “Of course. No problem, sir.”

  “Don’t be late.” The line went dead.

  “Shit!” Luvici growled. He kept looking Lucy up and down. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  “So you’re meeting this guy in an hour?”

  Luvici shot out of his chair and grabbed his rumpled jacket from a coat rack in the corner.

  “Not just me. We’re meeting them.”

  It was Lucy’s turn to gulp. I really don’t want to meet this guy. Then Luvici’s words caught up with her. “Them?”

  Luvici held open the door and gestured with his free hand emphatically for her to get up and get out the door. “You’re the one who said you wanted an arranged marriage kind of deal.”

  “Sure, but—” Lucy was on her feet and Luvici was shoving her out the door and past Darla.

  “I’ll be gone for the rest of the afternoon,” he barked at a wide-eyed Darla. “Reschedule all my appointments.”

  “Do you want me to wait for you?” Darla’s shrill, laser beam voice suddenly dripped with heat and honey. Doe eyed, she smiled with what looked like genuine affection. Either the chick was one hell of an actress, or she had it bad for her schmuck of a boss.

  Luvici stopped and looked at her, his eyes turning soft, his breathing slowing—even his meaty head cocked ever so slightly to the side. “This could take a while. But yeah, would you mind waiting for me?”

  Lucy felt like she was watching a real live Life Time romance of the week movie. And then she remembered that Luvici, the schmuck, had a wife at home—whether she was waiting for him with open arms and pot roast, or not.

  Yuck…

  “I’ll wait,” Darla said enthusiastically. “I’ve got loads of filing to catch up on.”

  Luvici smiled, kind of laughed once under his breath, then turned and dragged Lucy out of the office by the arm.