“You’re babbling.”
What did he expect when he interrogated her like some common thug. “You’re making me nervous with that detective stare.” She flapped her arms. “We went to a firehouse, big deal.”
“There’s nothing else?”
For this, she’d have to look at him. Straight on.
And lie.
Which would shred her intestines like nothing before. This man trusted her. Betraying that trust meant keeping Joey and the hacker out of it.
Darn it. She should have never gone along with the hacking. That had to be a federal crime. Had to be.
“There’s more, but it’s not major. We went to the firehouse, then I talked the receptionist into giving me a staff list.”
“She gave it to you?”
“Not exactly.”
The next five minutes were spent in a lightning round of questions and answers.
“I think I have a complete list of all the employees at the firehouse. All that’s left is to crosscheck it with the online database for city employees.”
He nodded. “The transparency list. I know it well. I’m on it.”
“I’m hoping the list will tell me if the employee is a firefighter or an admin. Plus, the list the receptionist gave me has all the shifts. I can narrow down which firefighters might have been at the restaurant based on the shift they worked.”
“All right, Columbo,” Tim said. “Show me this spreadsheet.”
Whoa. Hold on one second. Tim had major issues with her playing detective. Therefore, he either wanted to dissuade her from further investigating by eliminating her theories, or…he wanted to help.
Nah. Couldn’t be.
Could it?
Tim helping didn’t happen a lot. Mostly because she chose not to involve him in Rizzo madness. He’d worked too hard for his career to have it compromised.
Lucie bit her bottom lip. “You want to see my spreadsheet? Why?”
He laughed. “Because I know you. I can talk until I pass out, but you’ll continue investigating. As crazy as it makes me, I love that about you. Your drive to make things right. I’m gonna help you. Hopefully it won’t take all night and I’ll still get laid.”
Her man. She hopped up and ran around the table, throwing her arms around him and kissing him hard on the mouth. God, she loved him. She pulled back, set her hands on his cheeks, tracing the light freckles with her thumbs. “Thank you.”
He smiled and his green eyes twinkled under the glow of the hanging light fixture. “You’re welcome. Get your laptop while I finish my dinner.”
“Okay,” Tim said. “What you have here is three shifts. Red, blue, green. We need to know which shift worked yesterday. Do you have that?”
“No. The receptionist’s info didn’t include that.”
He stood behind her, reading the data displayed on her laptop, occasionally leaning forward to point to something on screen. The closeness, that brief, solid contact, brought a sense of…what?
Lust.
Happiness.
Security.
The down deep confidence that, despite his job, he’d help her through this. Together, they’d figure it out.
“Download that transparency list. We can separate the fire department staff and then sort alphabetically to match it with what you have. While you’re doing that, there’s an online shift calendar for the fire department. I’ll check that.”
Two minutes later, Lucie had the list downloaded—thank you, City of Chicago—and merged it with her data. After resorting and eliminating duplicates, thirty names remained.
“Bam,” Lucie said. “These are all the firefighters and paramedics that work in that firehouse.”
“According to this link, red shift worked yesterday.”
Back to her spreadsheet Lucie went, sorting it by shift and…voila. All red shift members.
“Email me that list of names. I’ll print it out.”
She swiveled sideways and grabbed his wrist. She couldn’t have him digging too hard on this. Not with the risks it posed to his career. “Please don’t get in trouble.”
“I won’t. Firefighters are subject to background investigations, but that doesn’t mean they’re all saints. We’ll search online and see if we can find anything on them.”
He bent low and kissed her softly, lingering for a few seconds. Lucie’s pulse kicked up. How long exactly had it been since they’d had sex? Made luuuvvvv…
Not that long. But when he kissed her like that? Could’ve been a lifetime.
Before things got too crazy and she had the opportunity to body slam him on the table, Tim backed away.
“Later,” he said.
“I will count on that, mister.”
He flashed her the wicked I-will-make-you-howl smile then wandered off leaving her to fantasize alone. She contemplated following him, but really, they were both distracted. And she wanted to be able to focus on the big guy. The big, hot, naked guy with the muscles and adorable freckles and…oooh-eee. Naughty, Lucie.
She swung back to her laptop and emailed Tim the spreadsheet, adding a one-liner about the things she’d do to him when she got him to a bed. Who said she sucked at seduction?
Just as she hit send, he walked across the hall to the spare bedroom/office, his laptop in hand.
“I just sent the email.”
“I see that,” he said. “Careful what you wish for, Luce.”
Heh, heh, heh.
Lucie’s phone rang, disrupting her X-rated thoughts about hot Irish detectives.
She glanced at the screen. Dean. Hacker extraordinaire.
All day he’d been silent. Now he calls?
She scooped up the phone, glancing at the empty foyer and the doorway to where Tim was busy printing that spreadsheet. If she could make this quick…
She tapped the screen before the call went to voicemail. “This is Lucie.”
“Hi, it’s Dean. Uh, from this morning?”
She checked the hallway again. No sign of Tim. “Hi, Dean.”
“Your guy opened the email.”
Yes! “He did?” Lucie fought the urge to hop out of her chair and do a butt wiggle. Which might be hard to explain to Tim. Since he’d just stepped into the hallway carrying a couple sheets of paper.
Darn it.
“Wow,” she said, watching as Tim set his laptop in the spot beside her. “That’s…uh…great. Did you find anything?”
Tim eyed her, his mouth twisting as he listened to her end of the conversation.
“He gets a ton of correspondence. And, man, he doesn’t pull any punches.”
“Really.”
“If you want to swing by here, I can go through the emails with you. There’s one you’ll want to see.”
Tim’s gaze was on her. Call it the burn of curiosity that came with dating a detective. Suddenly she had to pee. She smiled at him, offering a thumbs-up. Thumbs-up? What for? Now she’d have to explain. Blame it on the flop-peeing distracting her.
Whatever. She shook it off as her scrambled brain attempted a coherent thought. Dean. An email she’ll want to see. “That sounds good. What does the email say?”
“It’s a ransom note.”
Chapter Seven
“A ransom note?” Lucie blurted, immediately smacking herself on the head.
There went the whole keeping-the-hacker-from-Tim theory.
O’Hottie spun on his chair, now fully facing her, his eyes narrowed. “What ransom note?”
“Um, Dean? Can I call you back?”
“Sure. I wouldn’t take too long though. The note says they’ll make contact at 9:00 tonight.”
Lucie checked the clock on her laptop. Less than ninety minutes.
Her tummy did a massive flip. Why did she feel like the girl about to get smacked with a ruler by Sister Ophelia?
She stared at her laptop screen, willing some explanation to magically appear, but…nothing.
“Luce, what’s going on?”
She could l
ie. Tell him it was something about the first note delivered to Antoine. Play it off like nothing. But he knew her. He’d see through that open window of a lie.
Fess up.
That’s what she’d do. Just put it out there, hope he understood her need to break any number of federal laws by utilizing a hacker.
One who owed her bookie brother $5,000.
Oy, that sounded bad.
Slowly, she slid sideways and faced him. Looking into those pretty green eyes, she reconsidered the value of the truth. If she lost him over this, she’d be devastated.
Was it worth the risk?
No lying.
He deserved better.
Like she’d done so many times as the daughter of a mob boss, she pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin. Ready to face the battle.
“You won’t like it,” she said.
“I gathered that.”
She latched onto his forearms and squeezed. “But, please, hear me out.”
He let out a long, quiet sigh. “Ah, Luce. What’d you do?”
“You know me. You know I need a plan for everything.”
“Yeah. I’m aware.”
She put up her hand. “Before you lecture me about screwball investigations, you wouldn’t sit around and let something like this ruin your reputation, would you?”
She had him there. Some of the stiffness left his shoulders. She let out a small breath. So far, so good. At least he wasn’t showing her the door.
“All right,” he said. “Tell me.”
“Just, please, stay calm.”
Tim closed his eyes. His lips moved, spilling out something Lucie couldn’t hear. He did that—a lot—when she frustrated him.
“Okay.” She squeezed his arms again. “Joey knows someone who is…”
He opened his eyes. “What?”
Oh, hell. She might as well just spit it out. Before this was over, she’d have to admit it anyway. “A hacker. He owed Joey $5,000 from a bet that went bad.”
Tim shot out of the chair and stalked the hallway leading to his bedroom. When he reached the end, he swiveled back, circling one hand in the air as if he wanted to say something, to really go off, but…nothing.
Which was probably worse.
Her lifetime included dealing with men who yelled. That she knew what to do with. Silence? Horrible.
She pushed out of her chair, but stayed in her spot. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s a… friendly…relationship.”
Coercion aside.
Tim completed another lap and stopped in the middle of the hallway, his hands propped on his hips. “Don’t even start justifying. This is bullshit. You know it. A hacker! Are you nuts? Wait. No. Forget that. I know the answer. Why I’m shocked you lunatics would do this astounds me. Astounds me!”
“It’s not—” He glared at her hard enough to stop her cold. Frustration mounted and she flapped her arms. Damned man twisting her all up. “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t want you thinking Joey threatened to break his legs. Or whatever.”
“That makes me feel a lot better.”
“I know what it sounds like.”
“Honey, you can’t know. If you did you wouldn’t have done it. Damn it, Luce. We’re talking federal penalties here. What the hell are you looking for?”
She scrunched her nose and rolled her hand as if it might help the words flow. “We’re…uh…hacking Antoine’s email to see if he’s having a problem with anyone. You know, enemies.”
“Enemies. Perfect.”
“We’re just looking for leads. We wouldn’t have done anything else with his emails.”
His gaze steady on hers, Tim shook his head. The stiffness in his shoulders, his rigid control, told her all she needed to know about the emotion spewing inside him. “I should walk away. Even for you, this is pushing it.”
“I know you’re mad. You have every reason to be.”
His eyes bulged and his cheeks turned a weird shade of reddish purple that forced Lucie back a step. “Mad? I’m beyond that. You’ve compromised yourself, your brother, and me. Now I’m an accomplice.”
Ew. She hadn’t considered that. By telling the truth, she’d just opened him up to charges.
“I—”
“No. Don’t say anything.” He put his hands out, then pounded his fists on his head. “You’re killing me. The blood pressure alone should give me a seizure. Damn it!”
He spun away from her, storming the hallway again. Once, twice, three times. Finally, he stopped, drew a long pull of air through his nose.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“You shouldn’t have done it.” He held his hands out again. “Too late. Forget it. Let’s deal with it. Tell me what this guy did?”
Reasonable Tim. And he’d yet to boot her out.
Good. She stiff-spined it, shoring herself up. “He sent a virus to Antoine’s email. If Antoine opened the email, Dean—that’s the hacker—would have access to his account.”
“Do you have any idea how many laws you’ve broken?”
“A lot?”
He peered down at the floor, puffed up his cheeks and blew out a long breath. “What did he say about a ransom note? A second one?”
Lucie shrugged. “I assume. It says they’ll make contact again at 9:00. He told me I could come over and he’d go through the emails with me.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. But I was here, so I got nervous and told him I’d call him back. I knew you’d be upset.”
Now his mouth dropped open, his head dipping from the weight of it. “You would go to some dude’s house—someone you don’t even know—by yourself? Without telling me?”
Yes.
She winced.
No.
Eh. Maybe? “I don’t know. And that’s the truth. I didn’t have a chance to think about it.”
“First of all,” he said, “the answer is no, you would not do that. I don’t care what kind of shitstorm you’re in, you tell me about it. Am I mad? Bet your cute little ass I am. It puts me in an impossible position. A detective helping his girlfriend break laws doesn’t have a chance at career longevity.”
“Which is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Second of all, you going there alone isn’t an option. Ever. Got that?” He shook his head again, lifted his hands. “Damn it. You just can’t stay out of trouble.”
He stomped into his bedroom, returned a second later with sneakers in hand, and dropped into the chair at the end of the table. After ripping at his laces, he jammed the shoes on his feet, retying them with harsh tugs.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m going with you. We’re gonna see what this guy has. And then I’ll figure out what to do.”
“You can’t go with me. I don’t want you at risk. I’ll call Joey. He’ll go.”
“Well, babe, too late now. I know a crime has been committed. I’m already in it. Might as well see it through.”
“Tim, I’m so sorry.”
He set his feet on the floor and met her gaze. The playfulness from earlier, all that sparkly lust, had disappeared, leaving a dead stare. “Are you?”
That set her back some. “Of course I am.”
“Then why do you keep doing this crap? Every time. I ask you to stay out of it and yet, you run one of your batshit investigations. I get you’re at war with being Joe Rizzo’s kid. I don’t understand how it feels, but I know it drives you. What scares the hell out of me is what it’ll take to get you to stop.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you need to figure it out. I can’t keep doing this. Now let’s go see what this guy has. We’re on the clock.”
Untitled
Dean opened his front door, took one look at the stranger with Lucie, and his eyes got all shifty.
It wasn’t a look preppy Dean wore well.
“Relax.” Lucie held up her gloved hands. “This is Tim. My boyfriend.”
She’d leave out the part about him being a cop.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone.”
“Well,” Tim said, “deal with it. She’s not going to a stranger’s place—at night—by herself.”
Peeing match. Time to rein these boys in. She pushed around Dean, inviting herself inside. “It’s fine. Tim is up to speed on everything.”
With Lucie already inside, Dean stepped back, allowing Tim access. They followed Dean to the living room. His laptop sat open on a slick, glass-topped coffee table next to a mug of what smelled like fresh ground coffee.
He slid onto the couch. “Take a look at this. I’ve been watching his emails.”
Lucie and Tim remained standing, but stared down at the screen. “This is the ransom note?”
“Yeah. Right here.”
He clicked on the email, let it load, and handed the laptop to Lucie.
Do not call the police (or any law enforcement). We have your recipe (proof attached) and will post it online if you do not pay us two million dollars.
You have until 11:00 AM Friday to get the money. Only small, unmarked bills. The money drop will be at Cliffside Park. Go in at the east entrance and follow the path to the sixth bench. There is a hollowed-out tree behind the bench. Put the money in there. We WILL be watching. No funny stuff.
If you cooperate, we will not release the recipe. Try anything and the recipe will be released.
Behind her, Tim made a humming noise. “They’re giving him time to pull the money together.”
Not everyone had two mil in cash lying around. “Whoever this person is understands it could take a day for him to shift things around.”
“Anyone with an investment account knows that. It doesn’t narrow the field.”
Tim waved at the laptop. “Anything else we should see?”
Dean shrugged. “Normal stuff. Disgruntled employee. A vendor who hasn’t gotten paid and, oh yeah, a friend of his is pissed about some invitation he didn’t get to a dinner.”
Pissed off friend? Lucie cocked her head. “What dinner?”
“Antoine’s birthday. The pissed guy appears to be a chef. Out of work. He’s proposing he be invited with the rest of the A-listers so he can network.”
Dog Collar Cuisine (A Lucie Rizzo Mystery Book 5) Page 8
