"Good. Hopefully it'll stay that way until we get you out. Joey is outside. I think he was afraid he'd freak if he came in here. He said to...um...tell you that he loved you."
The corners of Ro’s mouth tilted up. A quasi-smile that was anything but happy. "I know he's a jerk sometimes, but he really is a big softie. Tell him I love him too. And, honestly, I don't want him seeing me like this. It's...embarrassing. I mean, I can't even put a face on."
Before her BFF got on a roll, Lucie held her hands up. "We don't have a lot of time. If we're going to get you out of here, you have to tell me about this witness identifying you. Ro, please, tell me you didn't go to Buzzy's that day."
She scrunched her nose and Lucie’s stomach twisted.
Oh no.
"Come on," Lucie said, her voice loud and echoing in the bland room.
The door swung open and the guard popped his head in. "Problem?"
Lucie and Ro both looked over at him. "No sir," Ro said.
"No, sir," Lucie repeated. "Sorry. My bad."
After a perfunctory nod, the guard disappeared again.
"I'm sorry," Ro said. "After you caught me tweeting at her, I didn't want to get in trouble again. I felt bad about the idea of a lawsuit, and I thought if Buzzy and I could talk, maybe we'd settle it. I left Frampton's and went to her house." Ro made a move to grab Lucie's hand, but the cuffs held her in place. "No touching. Right. Anyway, you've worked so hard and I didn't want some crazy lawsuit stressing you out. You know me, I wanted to fix it. And maybe beat her up for dissing us. But I didn't. Luce, I swear to you, I didn't do it."
She went to Buzzy’s. On the day the woman was murdered.
Damn it.
Okay. They'd just work the problem. That’s all. No histrionics. No panic. No arguing. I’ve got this.
"So you went there. What happened?"
"Nothing happened. I knocked on the door and rang the bell, but she didn’t answer. All I heard was that crazy bird squawking from inside. I swear that thing is stone-cold nuts."
No kidding there.
"And then what?"
Ro shrugged. "Nothing. I left."
"What time was that?"
"Maybe about 4:30."
Shoot. Buzzy was found soon after, because it had been on the evening news. "Where does this witness come in?"
"It has to be the woman who was walking her dog. After Buzzy didn't answer, I left. I got just outside the front gate and the woman was passing. Luce, she had the most adorable Pomeranian, but that sweet baby needed some bling. As soon as I'm out of here, we're doing an entire line for toy dogs. I can see it all now. Pinks and purples and diamonds. It'll be fabulous."
"What's it going to take to get you focused here? You're all over the place and the clock is ticking."
"Sorry. But that's it. I told the woman she had an adorable dog and I left. I went straight to your mom's house from there to talk some sense into that idiot brother of yours."
Lucie thought back. When Ro had walked into Mom's that night, she'd come straight from Buzzy's. Which meant...
"Oh, Ro."
"What?"
"I got the text about Buzzy right after you walked into Mom's. We hadn't even had dinner. How long did it take you to get there?"
"Well, I will say the traffic was filthy that night. Some dumbass rear-ended a bus and caused a pileup that turned into a mess on the Kennedy. Total shut down. It had to have taken me at least an hour. Probably longer. If I had my phone, I could tell you."
"Why?"
"I was answering my emails while sitting in traffic."
"You are a complete menace. You're going to kill someone if you don't stop with that." Bad word choice. Lucie waved it away. "Whatever. So, ninety minutes in the car. If it hit the news in that timeframe it means one of two things."
Ro scrunched her nose. Yep, she was starting to grasp it.
Lucie tapped her hands on the metal table. "Are you picking up what I'm putting down here?"
"Buzzy was killed after I left."
"Or, she was already dead when you were banging on her door."
At 7:00 a.m. the following morning, Lucie entered the front door of Coco Barknell, the doggie bells welcoming her into creepy morning darkness. Even with the sun about to pop up, the office remained shrouded. Something niggled at the back of Lucie’s neck.
The silence didn’t help.
Call it hyper-sensitivity—or paranoia—from growing up with a father who always sat with his back to the wall to thwart assassins, but something felt…off.
Maybe she simply wasn’t used to being alone in the office. Definite possibility since Ro liked to arrive first and get the coffee going.
Whatever the reason, timers for the lights might be a good idea. With Ro otherwise occupied, Lucie would be logging extra hours before the fashion show next week. She didn’t want to be walking into creepy darkness every morning.
Lucie smacked the light switch just inside the entrance and the room flooded with light.
“Whoa.”
The niggling at the back of her neck exploded, sending her heart into an erratic slam against her chest. Her gaze shot to the garment rack where, just last night, Ro’s samples had been meticulously hung and organized.
The rack was empty, its contents strewn about on the floor. Buttons, rhinestones—even the silly crocheted flowers Mom had sewn on a sweater—all scattered amongst the shredded fabric.
Lucie stepped back, ready to run. Ready to flee this place she’d put so much energy into.
A fierce stab of anger gripped her, kept her rooted in her spot. Someone had broken in and destroyed every one of Ro’s samples. Every. One.
That pissed Lucie off.
Big time.
The bells on the door jangled and in walked Dad and Joey, wheeling the giant rolling whiteboard one of the guys at Petey's had borrowed three weeks ago. What they were doing down at Petey's that required a white board, Lucie hadn’t asked.
In truth, she didn't want to know. Denial was sometimes a girl's best friend. Where was denial now? When she really needed it.
“Move it,” Joey said. “You’re in the way.”
Her father’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “What the hell’s this mess?”
“Someone broke in. Last night. Those are all Ro’s designs. Destroyed.”
“Dad, stay with Lucie.” Joey sidestepped the mess, beelining for the back of the shop.
Dad swung the white board parallel to the door and drew her in front of it, using it as a shield from anyone peeping in.
As crazy as her dad made her, these were the moments that brought her back to childhood. Back to being six years old and worshipping the protective father who made sure his kids were safe. The one who held her hand at the carnival and took her on carousels because he refused to let her out of his sight.
Joey popped out of the storeroom and checked the bathroom, flipping on the light, and then proceeding to the break room.
“All clear,” he said. “They broke out the window in the back.”
That damned window. She’d already had one incident with someone climbing through it and now this. She might have to board that thing up. Ro would have a fit over it being an eyesore, but if it kept intruders out, Lucie would do it.
She stared down at the floor, her gaze flicking over the mess. Poor Ro. “Joey, we can’t tell her about this. Ro. She’ll be devastated. I’ll see if Mom can recreate them.”
“She’ll do it,” he said. “She won’t want to hear the screaming when Ro gets out.”
Good point.
Joey circled one finger. “Did you touch anything?”
Evidence. They’d need to preserve it. Lucie stepped back, away from the shredded scraps barely a foot in front of her. “Just the door.”
“Good,” Dad said. “Let’s hope the feds are still watching me.”
How did everything manage to become about her father? She whirled on him. “Dad, please. This isn’t about you.”
Dad angled his head
in that way that instilled fear from the time she and Joey were toddlers. When he did that head thing, it meant something. Something ugly and mean. And scary.
“About me?” he said. “You watch your mouth. I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about the federal agents who watch Petey’s from all sides. This is one time surveillance might do us some good. I’ll take the feds breakfast and see if they saw anybody nosing around.”
Shame bubbled in Lucie’s stomach. For all his faults, her father meant well. She stepped toward him, grabbed his forearms and squeezed. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I swear. Please, I didn’t mean it.”
“Blah, blah,” Joey said. “Get over yourself. We need to call the cops. And Dad’s right, maybe the feds saw someone coming in here.”
Maybe.
Lucie let go of her father and turned back to the mess littering her floor. One thing was for sure. Whoever did this, didn’t want those samples to be of any use. This was personal. A total invasion. The destruction of something Ro had painstakingly designed. Hours of work, destroyed.
And Lucie didn’t believe the timing was coincidental. Not when she’d been nosing around about Buzzy’s murder.
“Luce,” Joey said, “someone isn’t happy with you.”
She shook her head. “For once, I agree with you. But that’s too bad. I’m not stopping until Ro is free.”
Chapter Eleven
Two hours later, the Franklin PD had processed the scene and cleared out, leaving Lucie, Dad and Joey to sweep up the mess on the floor. All of it eating away at her carefully crafted schedule.
“Too bad there wasn’t any blood or something on this stuff,” Joey said. “At least then they’d have taken it as evidence and saved us a shit-ton of work.”
Her brother. Always keeping his priorities straight.
Lucie didn’t even have a snappy comeback. In one way, Joey had a point. The lack of blood or any other identifiable substance meant the crime scene guys simply photographed the scene, leaving the contents. Which meant, nothing about the mess would help them find the perp, as Tim liked to say.
Tim. She’d have to call him. Let him know about the break-in. Only, she couldn’t do it now. He’d come running over and the presence of her detective boyfriend would interfere with her meeting. A meeting he wouldn’t approve of. In his mind, bumping up the activity in her investigation meant opening herself up to danger.
Well, she’d risk it.
And Tim couldn’t know about it. Simple as that. She’d have her meeting and call him on her way downtown.
Joey scooped handfuls of fabric, dumping them in a trash bag as a fresh bout of anger seared Lucie’s midsection. Bastards. Whoever they were, she couldn’t let them get away with it.
“Baby girl, where do you want this?”
Dad stood beside the white board he and Joey had wheeled back to the shop. She pointed at Ro's desk. "Put it there."
Where she didn't have to look at Ro’s empty desk. Without Ro the place felt...vacant. Lonely. If Lucie was the brains behind the operation, Ro was the fearless muscle. No matter what the task, she always took it on.
And now Lucie couldn't imagine running the business without her.
Enter the whiteboard and her meeting.
"The Cock Heads will be here any time."
Joey waved Dad away and positioned the white board in front of Ro's desk. "You invited the Dick Heads?"
Lucie grunted. After the morning they’d had, he wanted to start? "I've told you a hundred times. Don't call them Dick Heads."
Dad dropped into one of the conference table chairs. "Ho, with the language." He pulled his phone out and stared at the screen as if an alien possessed it. "I hate this phone. Why can't I go back to the other one?"
"Because it's a flip phone," Joey said.
"And what?"
Lucie shook her head. "The Cock Heads are my friends. And Ro's. They wanted to help. They know a lot of people in this town. And who are you to call anyone a wackjob? By the way, after this meeting, I need your help."
"What else is new?"
Always complaining about his growing role in the business, Joey had never once let her down. Secretly, she knew he liked spending time with the dogs.
"With Ro...unavailable, I need to pick up the slack. We have a dress rehearsal for the fashion show today. Which means, you have to do a couple of extra walks."
"Otis?"
"No. He's with me at the show. The swim trunks didn’t fit so we’re trying him in our new plus-sized line. "
"You know, I didn't want to say anything, but I think he resents that."
"Otis?"
"Yeah. He's not fat. He's beefy. Bulldogs are supposed to be beefy."
Beefy. Right. "Joey, I said the same thing, but, honestly, I'm not sure Otis really understands what plus-sized means."
"Believe me, he understands."
Lucie snorted. "You're a big mush."
The door opened and in walked Jimmy Two-Toes and Lemon, two of Dad's cronies from Petey's. The two of them were carbon copies of her father. Dress pants, dress shirt, no tie and perfectly groomed hair. Lemon may have been the shorter, lighter haired one of the bunch, but he refused to be outdone in the fashion department.
"Hey, Luce," Lemon said. "We're here for the meeting."
Lucie gave Joey the hairy eyeball.
"Hey," he said, "they were at Petey's and asked where the white board went."
Since when did mob guys get up so early?
At this point, if it meant getting Ro out of jail, all hands on deck. Plus, Jimmy and Lemon did have a lot of contacts.
"Thanks, guys," Lucie said. "Have a seat. There's coffee in the back if you want. I can't guarantee it's any good though. Ro is the coffee lady around here."
The two of them disappeared into the back room. Joey took a seat next to Dad and was immediately handed the alien phone. "I think I got a text. How do I know?"
"Do you know anyone who knows how to text?"
"Probably not."
"Then what are you worried about?"
"Good point."
The doggie bells on the door flew again. Cock Head Ben rushed through, holding the door open for Kristy and Annabelle.
"Sorry we're late," Annabelle said, gently removing her fedora so she wouldn't disturb the feathers.
Annabelle, aka the Cock Heads’ resident hostess with the mostest, always donned some sort of peacock headwear.
"No problem," Lucie said. "I appreciate you guys coming so early."
This was friendship. Two of the three of them were on their way to work, but they'd agreed to come to the meeting if it meant helping Ro.
As wacky as these people were, they loved Lucie—and Ro—and Lucie was proud to call them her friends.
Annabelle wrapped her in a tight hug and the usual scent of her cranberry lotion knocked Lucie's stress level down a notch. Finally, something normal. Even if it was only body lotion.
"I'm so sorry about Ro," Annabelle said. "We all are.”
“Thank you. But we’re going to prove her innocent. I know we are.”
Lucie waved everyone to the table. "Cock Heads, I think you know my brother, Joey, but this is my dad."
Hellos were exchanged along with that ever-present awe over meeting the notorious Joe Rizzo. What Lucie couldn't tell was whether it was good awe or bad awe. People either loved Dad or hated him. Not him, per se, but his lifestyle. In actuality, Dad was a nice guy. Always willing to help or give money to the homeless. He kept it quiet, but every morning he'd buy a dozen breakfast sandwiches and take them three blocks down to the old warehouse where a bunch of homeless guys slept.
Call it the dichotomy of Dad. Criminal who'd most likely done unspeakable things versus supporter of the homeless.
Jimmy and Lemon returned from their coffee run and more introductions were made. Lucie gave everyone a minute to assemble, then grabbed a marker from the little shelf on the white board.
Ben, a corporate lawyer, sat forwa
rd. "What about Ro? Update us."
"Nothing new aside from what I told you. They denied bail and now there’s a witness who saw Ro at the scene. It's just insanity."
"Alibi?"
"I'm working on that. The police confiscated her computer and most of her files, but I have a call into the buyer at Frampton's. Ro had a meeting with her right before Buzzy died. I'm hoping the buyer can provide the alibi. For all I know, the police have already talked to her, so I'm not sure."
Ben made a humming noise. "Well, they went after Ro for a reason."
Yes, they did. Lucie nodded. "Twitter smack down with Buzzy."
"Oh, no," Annabelle said. "That social media is a snake pit."
Ben, suddenly the Cock Head's version of Perry Mason, circled one hand. "Tell me about this smack down. Why were they fighting?"
"Buzzy, God rest her soul, stole a few of Ro's designs. The ones for the fashion show."
Kristy gasped. "Not the ones you showed us last week."
"Yep. She's already selling them on her website."
"I hope you're suing her ass," Jimmy said.
"God rest her soul," Annabelle said.
"I’m trying to work it out before it gets to that. My lawyer is working on it."
At the end of the table Kristy, a shy, recent college grad raised her hand. "I heard that Buzzy is—was—a real…um…”
Joey rolled his eyes. “Let me help you. She was a real bitch.”
The room erupted into a series of gasps and “God rest her souls.” Lucie sighed. "Everyone, please, pipe down. I want to hear this.”
"I don't know specifics, but a couple of months ago there was something on the news about Buzzy firing her agent."
"I spoke to Lorraine yesterday—she's Buzzy's sister—and she told me the agent wasn’t in the picture anymore. But it’s a lead."
Lucie turned to the white board and jotted AGENT before turning back to her crack team.
"Okay, gang. I visited Roseanne last night. She's doing okay, but we need to get organized here. With the witness coming forward, things are moving fast and I'm not sure the police are still looking for the real killer."
"Where's Tim?" Dad wanted to know.
"No Tim," Lucie said.
She hated keeping secrets from him. As much as he told her to stay out of it, he knew better. She couldn't let a loved one rot in jail.
Dog Collar Chaos Page 12
