Unapologetic: Tracy Tucci Mysteries, #1

By Larue Lombard

Tracy Tucci, a betrayed in love, psychic witch, in small town New Downs, has to rely on her own wits and the help of her friends, a new love interest and a reluctant FBI agent to catch a serial killer, or two, or three.  One stalks her, one takes her, and one eludes her.  With her hometown under siege and her very life on the line, can she find out the identity of the most vicious killer before it's too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Larue Lombard
• Release date: Feb 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201816865

Larue Lombard

Larue Lombard writes from Hamilton, Ontario while her trusty golden doodle Max dozes beside her. She is excited to explore her first series, Tracy Tucci Mysteries, that follows a group of tight knit witches that solve mayhem and murder. She hopes you fall in love with her New Downs characters as much as she has.

Book preview

Unapologetic

Tracy Tucci Mysteries, Volume 1

Larue Lombard

Published by Larue Lombard, 2022.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

UNAPOLOGETIC

First edition. February 25, 2022.

Copyright © 2022 Larue Lombard.

Written by Larue Lombard.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Unapologetic (Tracy Tucci Mysteries, #1)

Sign up for Larue Lombard's Mailing List

About the Author

About the Publisher

For everyone who desires to be accepted and loved.

Chapter 1

Tracy took the corner more sharply than she meant to, just beyond the New Downs sign.  The jeep recovered and bounced to a stop ten feet into the desolate dirt road.  Tracy yanked up the lever of the parking brake by rote, fully focused on her mission.  She would get to her first year anniversary dinner date, looking elegantly sexy, the way Ian liked, and on time, if it killed her.

It just might, she thought as she rummaged through the back seat for the change of clothes she had wisely packed that morning.  Score one for pre-planning, not that Tracy had ever been a Girl Scout, but she did apply some of their adages to her everyday life.  Along with the be prepared rule, Tracy was a jill-of-all-trades.  As a licensed private eye, her many skills came in handy.  She was a gun aficionado, regularly seen on the shooting range, a multi martial artist, combining the best moves from karate, Tae Kwan Do and Jujutsu and, not that she would admit it under oath, a master at picking locks.

The leather satchel Tracy searched for had gotten buried under a tipped over file box that held blank notebooks and pens she needed when interviewing clients.  She’d dictate to her phone in a pinch, but preferred the old fashioned, but arguably more reliable pen to paper method.  The lid had come off, scattering it’s contents among the discarded take out bags Tracy tossed back there when she was in a hurry, kind of like now.

It wasn’t entirely her fault.  Time had gotten away from her during what she called an exit interview with her latest client.  Not being a pleasant one, (It was never easy to provide proof of a cheating spouse.) Tracy did not expect the woman to completely fall apart.  After all she’d hired Tracy based on her own suspicions, but she supposed it’s all too real when one is confronted with video of said salacious behaviour.  It took an hour to calm the poor woman down, convincing her she had done herself a favour.  Tracy handed over the number for the best psychiatrist she knew, her friend Mia, who would detraumatize the woman properly and help her take next steps to a new improved life. 

Still, Tracy should have had time to spare.  Deliberately not taking the over congested highway curling around the shore, Tracy made her way to the lesser known back roads that encircled the city, where she had been slowed down by a rare pile up.  In fact, Tracy had never encountered or even heard of an accident out in the backwoods, along her surefire route.  Crawling past the fire crew finally, Tracy had sped through the curving road with confidence vying to make up the time.  Her mentor, Max now retired, insisted on skid school during her apprenticeship and good driving came in handy more often than her other special skills combined. 

Despite her frankly heroic driving, Tracy still needed to get dressed in a hurry.  One deliberate heave on the handles released the satchel from the debris and she was back in the game.  She glanced around to ensure no prying eyes were in the vicinity before pulling her blouse, still buttoned, over her head in one swift motion and tossed it on the backseat to deal with later.  Her pants were treated in the same fashion, her shoes left on her feet by sheer luck.  Because the dress came out of the bag wrinkled, Tracy shook it and then resorted to smoothing it on the hood of the jeep.  She plopped the black strappy stilettos that Ian loved her in on the front seat for later. 

Safety before fashion, Tracy thought. 

The dress easily slipped over her head and a quick adjustment of the spaghetti straps and another smoothing down front meant she was ready for hair and makeup.  Tracy challenged herself to do it in two minutes.

A minute and a half later, Tracy was back on the road to her destination.  It was a new record. Tracy grinned, proud of her small victory.  Emboldened, she picked up the call, hands free of course, when she saw it was Louise.

Hey girl.  Tracy gave her standard greeting.

Happy anniversary!

Thanks.  Can you believe I’ve had a steady for a whole year?

It’s unbelievable.  Congrats, Trace, Louise said.  Heads up.  Ian figures you’ll be late so he ordered ahead for you.  He’ll be waiting at the bar with wine and dinner will be served at six thirty.

Tracy groaned.

I’m actually going to make the six o’clock reservation and I’m starved.  I skipped lunch.  Again.

Maybe they’ll have pretzels to munch.  Anyway, just get there and enjoy your night.  Congrats again.  Talk later.  Louise disconnected abruptly as was her habit.

Tracy’s thoughts turned to her feat of sustaining a real relationship for a whole year.  Despite their disastrous first date that landed Tracy in the emergency room due to her first shellfish reaction, Ian had endeared himself by holding her hand and giving her the Benadryl doses that quelled the itchiness of the rash that had spread across her neck and chest.  She had been scared and Ian stayed all night watching over her as she slept in her plush queen bed.  He sat in her old rocking chair that lacked any kind of cushioning and he tried to hide his stiffness in the morning, but she knew how much he must have hurt.  Tracy was smitten.  They had been together ever since.  Tracy considered them a good couple, well matched.  There was only one real snag.

The public outing of Tracy as a psychic was an unplanned event.  There was no way she wanted the notoriety any more than Ian did.  He said she was going to attract all the weirdos and crackpots and was putting her well being at risk.  Who knew what the crazies would do?  That’s what he’d exclaimed in exasperation and Tracy couldn’t really argue.  She’d seen all kinds.

At the psychic fair she attended every year to read tarot and palm read, some of her clients were a little to obsessed with knowing their future.  Some were belligerent with wanting more and more detailed information and others were desperate for any hint.  Tracy found most to be harmless, but had seen some angry patrons shown the door by force.  She could see Ian’s point that things could get out of hand.  It’s just she didn’t normally think about it.  Once a year she dressed up as Madam Tucci, donated her earnings to charity and left it at that.  She was no charlatan.  Her psychic life was in a neat separate compartment from her normal life.  Until two weeks ago. 

At the behest of Louise and Mia, Tracy joined the search for a missing little girl.  It was a personal favour, since the mother was one of Mia’s patients.  Long story short, after some psychometry and heading in the opposite direction as everyone else, Tracy found the girl, in shock but otherwise unharmed, by sundown. It was just as Tracy had predicted, albeit not promised, to the mother.  Next thing she knew, Tracy was news.

Reporters had hounded her for days, calling her cell all hours, despite her no comment comments.  It was a good thing the cheater she was tracking was out of town or he would have spotted her in a second, seeing as how her determined and dirt smeared face, photographed upon her return with the child, had been on display on the nightly news report and in the Low Down in New Downs, a local paper publication that championed her as a hero.  She was in contention for a key to the town, a designation created just for her.  The unwanted attention was out of control.  And that wasn’t Ian’s only problem. 

The conversation that felt more inquisition went something like this to Tracy’s recollection.

What were you thinking?  Ian had asked her, his face a flame shade of red.

I only wanted to help.

By taking a guess?

What makes you think it was a guess?  Tracy was truly curious how Ian would define his terms.

Oh come on Tracy, it was sheer luck and you know it.

It was luck that I knew we would find a little girl sleeping on a bench in a pet cemetery?  It was luck I knew the time we would find her?

Coincidence, that’s all.  You know the area.  Remembered the place.  A kid would be attracted to it.  A good guess, but a guess just the same.  Tracy remembered Ian taking her hands in his.  I know you have a good heart.  You wanted to comfort the woman, give her hope.

Tracy sighed and weighed her options.  Ian was never going to come around to her psychicness.  He was a steadfast nonbeliever.  She could accept that, as long as he was able to move on.  He didn’t have to know about her craft.  She just wouldn’t do it around him.

I have a lot of good guesses, Tracy had said, shrugging as if it was no big deal.  I promise, it won’t interfere with our life anymore.

Good.  After Ian had kissed Tracy’s forehead, she knew the matter was closed.

Tracy was in the here and now, determined to renew her commitment to moving forward with Ian.  Tonight she would tell him all about the Victorian they could move together into.  She had until midnight to accept the terms.  Tracy hoped Ian was as excited as she was to take their relationship to a new level.

Chapter 2

Tracy spun into the first available parking space at the Schoolhouse, a rustic chic style restaurant that overcharged for subpar food.  Not that she would complain.  Ian thought he was impressing her and Tracy was happy to keep up the illusion.  She’d take him to Shakespeare’s for his next birthday and once he tried their steak, he would be forever converted.  That was fine cuisine.  Tonight was about ambiance and romance, not necessarily in that order. 

Shoes changed, Tracy glanced at her phone for the time.  She had one minute to spare so she spent it reapplying her fading lipgloss, regretting her forgotten dramatic red lipstick she usually wore for Ian.  With a sigh, she exited her jeep, wiggled her hips and shoulders to enter into date state and waltzed through the double doors.

Ian spotted her right away, waving her over to the bar, a mock look of surprise on his face.

Happy anniversary!  Tracy kissed Ian’s cheek before she pulled back to appraise his attire.  Slowly, her gaze travelled from his shined up burgundy loafers, up his meticulously tailored navy suit until she landed on his deep chocolate eyes.  Woo, I’ve done well, yes siree.  You look dashingly handsome, darling.  She hoped her downcast eyes made her look coy.

And you’re beautiful as always, Tracy.

Tracy glanced up to see if he meant it and it seemed he did.  Tracy felt a warmth spread through her chest.

However, the red lipstick would have gone better with that dress, don’t you think?

Tracy’s heart sank.  Thinking of how the dang thing sat on the edge of her vanity when it could have ended up in her bag in a second if she had just thought of it, made her blush.

Never mind, Ian said.  I’ve ordered you a wine and they will seat us shortly.  I have amazing news to share.  Ian grinned. 

Tell me, Tracy said and took a sip from the sparkling glass, her eyes focused on his.

Well, I was going to wait until dinner, but okay since you’re so irresistible, I’ll tell.  The teasing and compliments were a sign that Ian really was in a good mood.  Tracy sighed with relief.  If she played her cards right, this would be a very enjoyable evening.

I’ve convinced the boss to let you come work for us.

Tracy scrunched her lips up in thought.  What could a private eye possibly do at an advertising agency?  Did they think some sort of corporate espionage was going on?  That really wasn’t her area, but she’d hear them out.

Yes, it’s true, my love.  Remember how they instituted the wellness program?  Those yoga classes I take?

Yeah.  Tracy drawled out the word.

So, I told them they should hire you, that hypnosis stuff you do.  I explained how much it helped me and they were hooked.

But I learned it mainly to improve my communication skills.  For my own work.

I know, but what you do is so dangerous.  All those unsavoury types you deal with.  I thought you’d leap at the chance to still help people and stay safe at the same time.  Ian had raised his voice enough that a few heads turned to stare at them.  Ian lowered his voice keeping the intensity.  You’d really be helping me out.  Be my secret weapon.  I’d insist my whole department see you and we’d watch their productivity skyrocket.

So, make the people in the rat race run faster, Tracy thought bitterly.  Thankfully the waiter came to seat them before she could reply. 

Ian diverted the conversation by telling Tracy in an animated fashion what he’d ordered.  He insisted it would be a journey for their tastebuds like none other.  Tracy didn’t recognize any of the dish names, but by the sound of them, they were fancy.  When the soup came, Tracy asserted her complete non desire to listen to people’s problems all day. 

There’s no hunt in it, she said in conclusion.  I love what I do.

The soup smelled so delicious.  Tracy’s stomach growled with impatience.  She shoved a big spoonful of the creamy liquid into her mouth to try to stave off any more rumblings.  Ian did the same his eyes locked on hers.  Tracy looked away first.  She scooped more soup, then gasped in surprise.  Her eyes widened at the offending shrimp floating in the spoon.  Her hand shook and the spoon dropped, clanging loudly on the wooden table.  Tears filled her eyes.

What’s wrong?  Ian asked.

There’s shrimp in that soup!  Tracy’s voice was shrill.  Heads snapped in their direction.  The waiter rushed to her side.  Ian stood.  He knew what to do if she had an adverse reaction.  Tracy fumbled in her purse, fingers finally grasping her epi pen.

Is there a problem, sir? The waiter addressed Ian.  The chef was quite confused at your insistence of only one shrimp in the bisque.

You did this, Tracy said, slapping Ian’s hands away from her.  You did this on purpose!

For the first time since she’d known him, Ian wasn’t sure when he spoke.  In fact, his voice warbled as he fumbled over his words.

Tracy, wait.  I just thought I could take care of you.  You could take a day off and let me pamper you.

"Because you assaulted me!  Of all the egotistical assholes, you take the cake."  Every eye in the place was on them now.  Tracy didn’t care. She shoved out her chair.  Her feet wobbled.  Getting her balance she stormed to the exit, Ian close behind.

Tracy.

No.  Tracy spun around to glare at him.  Wobbling again made her furious so she yanked off both shoes and shoved them into Ian’s chest.  Put these where the sun don’t shine and never speak to me again.

The cacophony of hands and feet made Tracy aware of the scene she was making.  Now she revelled in it.  She gave the crowd a quick bow and spun out through the double doors.  Her heart finally slowed to normal by the time she was halfway home.

Calmed, she punched at her dashboard and gave the command.

Call Louise. 

She answered halfway through the first ring.

Hey, girl.

I broke up with Ian.

A pause.  Then a comforting voice.

I’ll bring the white sage.  Oh, and the rum.  With that Louise disconnected and Tracy punched the button again.  She had another call to make.

Chapter 3

Louise and Mia sat on Tracy’s leather sectional on either side of her.  Louise’s newly adopted Persian kitten named Bruxo had watched them with lazy eyes until they had finally finished smudging every last spot Ian could have stood, sat or lay down and had stuffed his leftover toothbrush, sweater and the offending box of cereal in a plastic bag, knotted it tight and plunked it outside on the screened in porch if he ever dared come to claim them.  Work complete, they were ready to sip their Pina Coladas and dish on the unsavoury details of the break up, in full friendship support.

What’s with the cereal, anyway?  Louise asked, her arm draped over Tracy’s shoulders.

Remember when we went for our girls weekend in Mexico?  Tracy asked before taking a gulp from her cocktail glass, savouring the sweetness of the coconut and the kick of the rum. 

Louise and Mia nodded in unison, the signal for Tracy to continue.

Well, when I got home, like the instant I got in the door, Ian called and insisted I get all gussied up to go out for dinner.  I thought he missed me and was being sweet so I dragged my tired self to make an effort and go.

Oh my God, Mia said her eyebrows raised in disbelief, leaning forward so she could adjust into sitting cross-legged, her most attentive position. I hit my bed before I even unpacked.  My moldy swimsuit stank so bad the next day and I knew it would, but I just didn’t care.  Did you tell Ian we were stuck in customs for five hours?

Tracy nodded with a grimace at the memory.  The delay had been a result of her having a concealed weapon in the Jeep, according to the insistent border guards.  In reality it was a baseball bat and yes Tracy did have it for protection, but it was a stretch for the agents to prove it.  How did they know she wasn’t on a softball team?  The three girls finally convinced the stern faces glaring at them, that in fact, Tracy was the captain of the Duck Downs softball team.  It was a good thing they weren’t interested in her mace disguised as hairspray down deep in her shoulder bag.

Anyway, the lengthy trip home had been Tracy’s fault, but her friends chalked it up to part of the adventure and part of their fond lore.  One day it was something to tell the grandkids.  Ian hadn’t taken his cancelled lunch plans so well.  He expected Tracy to immediately rectify the affront.  She sadly told the girls his issue.

Anyway, we were out at that fancy steakhouse on Elm, you know the one, Shakespeare’s and he lectured me the whole time about how I wasn’t making him a priority in my life.  I felt bad, really I did.

What could we have done?  Louise asked, clearly offended.  She was Tracy’s staunchest supporter and would defend her fiercely in any situation.  Tracy loved her blind faith even when unmerited.  She gave her a grateful smile.

It’s like, as soon as we said the I love yous, I couldn’t do anything right.  Like he wanted to mold me into something else.

You need a guy to love you for who you are, like we do, Mia said, emphatically nodding her head.  But where does the cereal come in?

Oh yeah.  So I thought I’d make a romantic gesture, show him I was thinking about him, wanting to tend to him, wanted him in my life.  Not that I’m any good at romance, but I thought I had the perfect thing.  He had at some point mentioned discovering his favourite breakfast.  He went on and on about it was the only cereal he could eat and how perfect it was.  I bought a box to keep at my place.  So, next time he stayed over, I brought it out for him.

Aw so sweet, Mia said, ever the encourager.

Glad you think so.  He didn’t.  He literally sneered at me and asked me what if he got tired of it.  Tracy used her fingers to depict air quotes, a sarcastic scowl on her face.  He said I should have been considerate enough to get up early and cook him eggs.  I was so stunned.  I just said I had an appointment I had to get to and we had to go.  I practically shoved him out the door.  We never opened the box and we never spoke of it again

What a jerk, Louise said.

Ditto, said Mia, a thoughtful look on her face.  I wonder why you didn’t break up with him then?  Mia was ever the counselor.  It never really turned off.  Tracy and Louise were used to it, but it still zinged when she dug truths out of them for them to face.

I loved him I guess.  Tracy shrugged her shoulders and avoided eye contact, but this time it was Louise who asked the obvious question.

So what was different tonight?

Tracy sighed before telling them all that had transpired, finishing with her ungraceful walk out of the restaurant.

Did he know about the hypnosis allergy cure?  Mia asked with hope in her eyes.  Tracy shook her head vigorously.

I never told him and good thing I didn’t seeing how he wigged out about the psychic stuff.  I guess I’d been hiding a lot from him about me.  Tracy shrugged again.

You didn’t trust him, Louise concluded.

Maybe you should be smudging me with the white sage, Tracy said, her joke falling limp with her sad smile.

Oh hush, Mia said hugging Tracy tightly around the waist.  Your instincts were obviously right seeing as how that jerkwad tried to assault and batter you.  At least we know the cure worked for you as well as Louise.

Louise was pronounced allergy free just the week before, but Tracy hadn’t gotten around to being tested yet.  Now she needn’t bother.  She had yet to feel even a tingle.  It did relieve her that she never had to fear an adverse reaction again and she couldn’t help a genuine smile as she watched Louise pick up her kitten and sink her face deep in the white fur.

I could never even step inside someone’s house if they had a cat and now look.  I just love him so much.

I hope Mike’s not jealous, Mia teased.

Nope, he’s happy I have a companion while he’s at the shop and not texting him constantly.

Louise’s husband Mike owned Mints and Enchantments, the local new age store and Louise was his web designer and overall IT expert.  They figured out early in their partnership that their love would only survive if she worked from home as she otherwise was peppering him all day with suggestions, questions and tweaks he could implement.  Louise was limited to ten texts and three phone calls a day while Mike was in the store.  Dropping by was only allowed for social visits.  In truth, her skills were what was keeping the fledgling business in business.  It was just better not to sacrifice their love for it.

You found a good one, Lou,  Tracy said, her voice sad and low.  She could admit to feeling a tad jealous.  Mike and Louise had found each other early in life and they were perfect for each other.  Mike balanced out Louise’s hard edges with his everlasting patience and good natured personality.  His acceptance extended to her friends whom he regarded as family.  He never begrudged late night phone calls or, like now, an evening Louise spent helping Tracy mend her wounded heart with girl talk and lots of alcohol.  Tracy would be so lucky to find a man half as good as Mike. 

Let’s have another cocktail shall we girls?  The question was rhetorical.  Mia had already grabbed the pitcher and scooted into the kitchen to make more.  She returned a few minutes later to refill the glasses as Louise started to laugh, the mirth taking