He peeped behind the frame.
“Nothing.”
“Darn.”
“Hang on. I’ll check behind the bookcase.”
Click, click, click. The receptionist again.
Joey glanced back at the doorway and the receptionist appeared. “Is everything all right?”
Ro grunted. “She’s a pain in the year, this woman.”
“Yeah,” he said, cool as could be. Lucie wasn’t sure who he was responding to. “I’m checking to see if there’s another outlet behind this bookcase. I’m good.”
The receptionist nodded and disappeared again.
Not good. Two visits didn’t instill a sense of calm. Plus, the prickles shooting down Lucie’s neck didn’t help.
“Joey, she must be suspicious. You need to get out of there.”
“Wha, wha. I’m right here. Let me check this real quick.”
He slid a flashlight from his tool bag and shined it into the tiny space between the wall and bookcase.
Something caught Lucie’s eye, but Joey moved and the image onscreen blurred.
“Wait,” she said. “Look down again.”
Joey tipped his head down, shining the flashlight as he went.
“There.”
Taped to the back of the bookcase was a large manila envelope.
“Got it,” he whispered. “It’s an envelope.”
Lucie and Ro stared at each other. What to do? If they didn’t look, they’d never know.
“See if the envelope is sealed,” Lucie said.
Joey gripped the bookcase, nudging it out enough to get his beefed-up arm behind it. “It’s sealed,” he said. “But it’s one of those self-sticking ones. I think I can get it open without ripping it.”
“Be careful.”
He checked the doorway again, and Lucie’s stomach flipped for non-Vertigo reasons. What were they doing invading this woman’s privacy like this?
Whatever guilt plaguing her wasn’t enough to stop the madness. Joey carefully pried the envelope open, wincing a little as the paper echoed in the quiet room.
Inside was an index card. A blue one that made Lucie’s heart thump. He slid the card out giving Lucie and Ro a view of the front.
Cassoulet de Toulouse.
“Oh, wow,” Lucie said. “That’s it. That’s the recipe.”
The sudden urge to pee assailed Lucie. Damned flop-peeing. Her kidneys ballooned and she crossed her legs.
Had they just busted Molly blackmailing her own boyfriend? And client?
Lucie pressed her palm to her forehead. “We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”
“Please,” Ro said. “Why would she have a copy of that recipe pasted to her bookcase?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I’ll tell you why. She needed a quick, temporary place to hide it while she puts the screws to her client. And I don’t mean between the sheets either.”
“Hey, you two,” Joey’s voice cut in. “Decision time. Am I taking this recipe or leaving it?”
From the driver’s seat, Ro peered at Lucie. “I say take it. We can return it to Antoine, save him a few mil, and this whole thing will be over.”
A nice plan if… Lucie shook her head. “We can’t take it. How would we explain it? Even if we return it to Antoine, he’ll think we chickened out of blackmailing him. He won’t believe Molly stole it. According to him, she’s a security freak and didn’t want hard copies laying around.”
“Tick-tock,” Joey said.
Lucie went back to the iPad, where the camera recorded everything. “Leave it. If we take it, then we have no proof it was there.”
“We’ll have the video.”
“Eh,” Joey said. “Anyone with half a brain could explain that away. Maybe this card is a dupe. How do we know?”
Lucie rested her head back and stared out the windshield.
A very tall, very redheaded Irish detective marched to the entrance of Molly’s office.
Panic sent Lucie rocketing forward, gripping the dashboard, and considering all the ways to put herself out of her own misery. Then again, she might not have to worry about that. He’ll kill us.
Ro whipped her head around. “What?”
“It’s Tim.”
“O’Hottie? Where?”
“At the door. He’s going in. Joey! Get out. Now. Tim is coming in.”
“What now?”
“You heard me.”
“What the hell, Luce? Why is your boyfriend here?”
As if she knew? “Oh, did I forget to mention I wanted him to catch us snooping in Molly’s office?” She held up her fists and frustration poured into them. “How the hell should I know why he’s there?”
The line went silent for a few seconds. “Joey?”
“Yeah. He’s talking to the chick at the desk. Something about warning businesses about robberies in the area. Shit.”
Lucie and Ro exchanged an eek look. “What?”
Lucie looked down at the iPad. Her brother swung his head side to side, once again making the image jump. “What are you doing?”
“He’s coming back to use the john. I gotta hide.”
On screen, he dropped to his knees behind Molly’s desk. Lucie’s kidneys sent up a warning flare.
“I have to pee so bad right now.”
Ro handed her the soda cup from the console. “Dump the ice and have at it.”
Ew. “I’m not doing that. I’ll hold it.”
Or not.
“Joey?”
“Shh.”
She glanced down at the screen, at the wingtip dress shoes entering the frame. Joey raised his head, staring straight up.
At Tim.
“Dude,” her brother said, “funny running into you here.”
Tim stood over Joey, his blood pressure climbing thirty digits. By now, his hair might be standing on end.
For two days, he’d been cruising by this office, surveilling it when time allowed, and generally keeping an eye out for oddities when…hello…there was Joey.
Dressed in khakis and a golf shirt.
Talk about odd.
He checked over his shoulder before speaking. No nosey receptionist to be seen, but he’d keep this short and sweet anyway. He slapped on his best hardened-cop face. The one where his jaw nearly broke into chunks from the tension. “Joey. What. The. Fuck?”
Had to be one of Lucie’s half-baked schemes.
“Yeah.” Joey hopped to his feet. “This has gotta look bad.”
Tim gave him the dead eyes. “Ya think?” He took in Joey’s khaki pants, a first for sure. “What’s with the getup? And since when do you wear glasses?”
“Uh, they’re new. I’m trying them out. Been having headaches. Hang on a sec.” Joey held his hand up and spoke into his wrist. “Shut it. Both of you.”
The tension in Tim’s jaw released as his mouth fell open. Joey having a two-way radio might just tip the insanity scale beyond its limit.
Tim pointed. “Is that Lucie? Seriously? You have a two-way radio?”
“It’s both of them. They’re making me nuts.”
“Where the hell are they?”
Had to be close. Probably within eyesight of the front door. Tim turned, ready to hightail it out before Lucie and Ro got wise and made a break for it. Crap…
Receptionist in the doorway, peering at them with her big, nosey eyes. “Is everything all right?”
Tim nodded. “Yeah. All good. I saw him in here and decided to check him out.” He pointed to Joey’s credentials. “All good.”
“Great. Thanks so much for doing that.” The receptionist stepped back, sending the not-so-subtle hint that he should vacate the space they were in. Whoever’s office this was—Tim assumed it to be Molly’s—she wanted them out. Interesting.
She gestured to her left. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall.”
If he wasted precious seconds making like he needed to use the bathroom, Lucie and Ro would be long gone. Running like he
ll from the lashing he’d give them for whatever this insane stunt was.
“Thanks. I just got a call though. Gotta run.”
He stormed the hallway, his legs getting him to the door in record time. Once outside, he looked left, then panned right, his cop’s eyes taking in every possible hiding place—trees, porches, parked cars.
There. Ro’s Escalade parked in a fire zone. Yeah, that wasn’t obvious at all.
Damn them.
He hit the sidewalk at a light jog and pointed. “Don’t move!”
Chapter Ten
IPad in hand, Lucie flinched. The movement sent up another cry from her engorged bladder.
Tim ran across the street, his big shoulders back in that commanding way she loved about him—so hot. But right now, her man’s face was all mean cop.
We’re so cooked.
Beside her, Ro gripped the wheel. “Here he comes. Duck!”
She threw herself sideways, slamming into Lucie. Their heads banged and the blast caused a flash of white spots to erupt.
“Ow,” Lucie said. “What are you doing? He already sees us. Ducking won’t help.”
Lucie rubbed the side of her forehead, wincing at the contact. Darn it, that hurt.
Ro sat up, her face all scrunched with pain. She checked the rearview for any damage. “You have a major hard head.”
That made two of them.
Knock, knock, knock.
The window.
Sonny poked his head through the bucket seats and let out a bark. Her protector. Refusing to look, Lucie kept her gaze fixed on Ro. “It’s him, right?”
Dumb question. Who else would it be? Santa?
Ro peered beyond Lucie’s shoulder and her lips froze into a petrified smile. “Oh, it’s him. And he looks pissed.”
Knock, knock, knock.
“Open up,” Tim said.
“Luuuuucie,” Ro said in her Ricky Ricardo accent, “we’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.”
Ro unlocked the doors and Tim hopped in the back. Sonny’s tail whipped back and forth at the prospect of another human that might give him attention.
Joey strode out of the building and glanced their way. “Pick me up around the corner. That chick is squirrelly. She might be watching me.”
“Roger that.”
Again with the military verbiage? If Lucie wasn’t about to wet herself, she might laugh. Might. Ro hit the gas, bolting into the roadway, cutting off a car cruising the street. A loud horn blast cracked the air. The violated driver stuck his hand out the window and flipped the bird.
Ro hit the window button and returned the gesture. “Go slap yourself.”
“Roseanne,” Tim said from the back seat, “try not to get us killed. Off, Sonny. You pain in the ass.”
Lucie peeked back and found the dog climbing on Tim’s lap trying to steal a lick or twelve. How adorable was he?
Dogs just knew how to break tension, and Lucie needed to tag team the effort. She met Tim’s eye and felt her bladder wave that white flag again. Oh, the pressure. Still, she needed to focus on the situation. She held up one hand. “I know you’re mad, but don’t yell at him. He didn’t do anything.”
“Atta, girl, Luce,” Ro said. At the corner, she hooked a right and pulled into the fire lane in front of the dry cleaners. “Dry cleaners,” she said into her lip mic. “Get in on my side. O’Hottie is here and he’s not pulling punches.”
Lucie glanced down at the iPad and spotted her brother turning the corner right behind where they were parked. He whipped off the lanyard with his fake ID and shoved it into his jacket pocket.
After finally dealing with Sonny by scooping him up and petting him, Tim poked his head through the seats. “Who wants to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Best defense is a good offense. Lucie whipped around, poking a finger at him. “I could ask you the same thing. Why were you in Molly Jacardi’s office?”
Tim made a buzzing noise. “Nice try. I’ve been cruising by that office a couple of times a day. Keeping an eye on things. And lucky thing or I wouldn’t have spotted you lunatics. Doing whatever the hell it is you’re doing.”
The rear driver’s side door opened and Joey hopped in. Sonny craned his neck and Joey eyeballed him.
“Don’t do it, dog.”
Sonny took the hint and burrowed further into Tim. Damned, Joey. How did he do that?
Rather than risk a ticket for parking in a fire zone, Ro hit the gas, once again bullying her way into traffic while Joey stowed his tool bag in the cargo area behind him.
Lucie glanced back, and found him pointing at Tim. “I don’t wanna hear it,” Joey said.
“You’re gonna hear it. Do you know what that stunt could have cost you? And I’m not talking just a trespassing charge. Who the hell even knows if impersonating a cable guy is an offense? As long as I’ve been a cop, that’s a new one. But hey, cable companies cross state lines. That’s federal, my friend. And the recording? You didn’t stop at video, you went full bore with audio. Guess what, kids? People are granted a reasonable expectation of privacy. You were in their office, recording without their knowledge. Any decent prosecutor could trump up a privacy violation on that.”
Lucie let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re getting carried away. Joey was trying to help me.”
“I get that. What I don’t get is how three intelligent adults agreed on that half-assed stunt.”
Lucie made eye contact with Joey. What could she possibly say? Between her brother dressed in his un-Joey getup, the stupid glasses, and Tim being a human lie detector, she had no fallback plan.
Tim set Sonny down, and the dog’s head swung back and forth as if this was some grand adventure.
The tiny pfft of breaking wind sounded.
Joey cracked his window and shoved his face in the opening. “Man, this dog has wicked gas.”
“He’s a beast,” Ro said. “The government should use him as an interrogating technique.”
Lucie peeked back at Tim. His normally loving green eyes had turned…hard. His stiff posture and all that contained anger begging to burst free didn’t help her straining bladder.
She’d made a disaster out of this situation. Her own fault for letting her family talk her into Joey searching Molly’s office.
She couldn’t blame them, though. Being a big girl meant taking ownership of her mistakes. Her miscalculations.
In her quest to make things right, she’d gone…cuckoo.
Now she needed to fix it. “I know you’re mad.”
“You sent your brother into that woman’s office under a false identity, probably looking to steal something. Mad is reasonable.”
“First of all, we didn’t intend on stealing anything. We only wanted to peek at her files. Joey found the envelope with the recipe. That we didn’t expect.”
Tim’s head snapped back, her revelation apparently draining his ire.
Dang. If she’d been thinking straight, she’d have led with the recipe and avoided getting her man all twisty. She’d been so busy formulating her defense, she hadn’t realized Tim missed Joey discovering the envelope.
Clunking herself on the head, she faced front again as Ro circled the block, dodging traffic and filthy hand gestures.
“You missed that part,” Lucie said. “Joey found an envelope with a copy of Antoine’s recipe in it. On a blue index card.”
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
Tim rested his elbow on the doorframe and rubbed his forehead.
“Headache?”
He laughed.
Of course he had a headache. Dealing with them? What did she expect?
“This envelope? Where was it?”
Joey took that one. “Taped to the back of the bookcase.”
“And that was Molly’s office?”
Lucie nodded. “Yes. You were there when Antoine told us Molly is a security freak and didn’t want him keeping hard copies of the recipe around. If that’s true, why is there a copy hi
dden behind her bookshelf?”
Tim held his finger up. “Is she a control freak?”
Ro let out a snort and made another right turn. “O’Hottie, I think you are losing your mind. What does it matter if she’s a control freak?”
“Maybe she doesn’t like him being subversive by keeping a hard copy in his safe and she’s teaching him a lesson. I’ve seen nuttier things.”
“Huh,” Ro said, suddenly not so skeptical.
Ro took the next turn a little sharper than necessary and Lucie jerked sideways, nearly getting decapitated by the seatbelt. Rather than suffer an injury, she faced front, noodling the control freak theory.
“Maybe she wants to teach Antoine a lesson, so she took the recipe.”
Joey leaned in. “But taking it isn’t enough. She’s ballsy, this one. She’s gonna put the screws to him. Keep him in his place and prove she’s right.”
“By stealing his recipe and then pretending to be a blackmailer?” Ro shook her head. “Not buying it.”
Lucie bit her lip. “Why?”
“It’s too risky. What if he called the cops?”
“She knew he wouldn’t,” Tim said. “They’re a couple. She knows his hot buttons. He made it damned clear he didn’t want this to get out. She’d know that about him. Hell, if she’s the security nut, she might have conditioned him to be this way.”
On the fourth pass around the block, Tim backhanded the edge of Ro’s seat. “Pull over on that corner. Let me out.”
He was still mad. Lucie sensed it. Not so much by his words or his body language, but the lack of all that. The neutrality. When it came to work, to investigating cases, Tim’s poker face could win him millions in Vegas.
But this wasn’t work. Not totally. This was about her—and him—and generally he kicked the poker face to the curb when it came to her.
She turned back again, but he stared out the window, his mind clearly moving to the next task.
“You’re leaving?” Lucie asked.
After a long minute, he met her gaze. Those pretty green eyes weren’t nearly as frigid as they had been a few minutes ago, but they didn’t exactly scream friendly either.
Still mad.
“Luce, I’m in the middle of my workday. I’ll look into this. See what I can dig up on Molly Jacardi. But, please, give me a friggin’ break. No more screwball schemes.”
Dog Collar Cuisine (A Lucie Rizzo Mystery Book 5) Page 13
