Dear God.
“They set me up!”
Bam. She gave Bart another shot.
“Stop hitting me or I’ll—”
“What?”
Another smack.
“Lucie,” Tim said, his voice carrying a relaxed amusement she couldn’t process, “as much as I’m enjoying this and think you have it under control, get off him before he gets hurt.”
She bared her teeth. “I want him hurt. I want him to bleed!”
Mr. Lutz’s head jerked back. “She’s nuts. How did I not realize?”
Tim stepped into the room and shoved Lutz against the staircase leading to the apartment upstairs. “You shut up. Stand there and be quiet or I’ll unleash her on you.”
He handcuffed Lutz to the bannister then turned back to Lucie, still on top of Bart but not swinging. “Off,” he said, his voice so commanding she nearly wet herself.
Wow. Who knew the cute detective could be so fierce?
She hopped off of Bart and gave him one last smack for the fun of it. “Bastard.”
“Okay,” Tim said. “Everybody settle down.” He grabbed hold of Bart and shoved him against the stairs next to Mr. Lutz. “I don’t have another set of cuffs. If you move, I’ll shoot you. Got it?”
Bart’s lips peeled back. Apparently, he understood.
Obviously satisfied, Tim nodded. “Now, I’m going to call for backup and you nutcases are going to tell me exactly what happened here.”
*
Tim entered the precinct’s interview room and found Lucie sitting at the table with her lawyer.
Joe Rizzo’s very expensive lawyer.
Tim nearly groaned. One thing he wasn’t up for was a battle with a shark. But he supposed the guy was doing his job and since this involved Lucie, he’d be friendly.
Lucie sat with her hands in her lap. She still wore her dog walking clothes and her shoulder-length hair was flying all over. Her big blue eyes met his. Damn, this girl and her family would be a handful. If he had any sense, he’d run. Fast.
But apparently, that wasn’t happening.
He swung the door closed behind him.
Seeing her beat the crap out of Bart Owens may have sealed the deal. The woman had no fear. Maybe it had been a dangerous thing to do, but he loved her spunk. Her willingness to take care of a problem on her own.
Lucie Rizzo didn’t depend on anyone or anything. She did it on her own.
“Detective,” the lawyer said, “either charge her or we’re leaving. She’s been fully cooperative. My client is a victim here. How do you not see that?”
At the lawyer’s condescending tone, Lucie’s eyes flashed. “It’s not his fault,” she said. “Be nice.”
Be nice. How flippin’ cute was she?
The lawyer patted her arm. One of those I’m-sorry-you’re-suffering-from-dementia pats, and Lucie drilled him with another look.
He’d better get in the middle of this before she jumped her lawyer too. Just as her mouth opened, Tim held up his hand. “You’re free to go.”
Her head drooped forward. “Free to… go?”
“Yep.”
“‘Bout time,” the lawyer said. “No charges are being filed, I presume?”
“No charges.” He focused on Lucie. “Lutz gave the whole thing up. Said you didn’t know about the scheme. All you did was make the introduction between him and Owens. Even Lutz thought that painting was real. The guy scammed his own partner.”
Lucie shook her head. “What an ass.”
“Which one?”
She rolled her eyes, but laughed. “Both of them, I suppose.” Then she turned to Mr. Slick Lawyer. “Would you give us a minute please?”
Slick didn’t like the sound of that. This guy was good, but Tim had been around lawyers on both sides of the aisle enough to know their game faces. This bland stare was all about him not being happy.
“Ms. Rizzo,” he said, “that’s not a good idea.”
“I know. I’ll take my chances. Thank you. You can go.”
Eee-doggies, I like this girl.
The lawyer packed up and headed out, but stopped at the doorway, asking one more time if she was sure. Yeah, buddy, she’s sure. Papa Rizzo won’t hurt you.
As soon as the door closed, Lucie let out a huge breath and dropped her head to the table. She’d had to sit here while they sorted out the Owens-Lutz mess, the entire time wondering if she’d be implicated. Throw in the three rounds she went with Bart Owens and she had to be fried.
While her head was still down, he twisted his lips, hiding a smile. He’d never forget the shock of walking in on tiny Lucie beating the crap out of that guy. Of course, his first reaction was to haul her off, but hey, she’d had the upper hand, so he let her get a few extra licks in. For what that guy had put her through, she deserved extended time.
But now, the day had obviously crashed down on her. Tim reached across and ran his hand over her hair. “You’re okay, Lucie. All cleared.”
She lifted her head, grabbed his hand, and squeezed. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything. I would have if necessary, but Lutz manned up. He did the right thing.”
“At least that’s something. And hey, now I can call my dad off. No need for him to terrify people while trying to figure out where those stupid suits came from.” She blew out a breath. “I can’t believe it. They were going to use my connections to scam people. Bart doesn’t know me that well. But Mr. L.? He knows how hard I’ve worked to be more than Joe Rizzo’s kid. He knows. How horrible is that? That he was willing to betray me that way.”
The choke in her voice nearly killed him. Dug right down to the core of him and jabbed at every protective instinct he possessed.
That’s when it hit him. When he knew he’d never walk away from this girl. That what he wanted was to be near her, keep her safe, and help her fight whatever battle she needed fought.
I’m so screwed.
“I’m sorry, Lucie. The guy got greedy.”
“He makes millions as an investment banker. Millions!”
“Not lately. He’s had a bad run. After you introduced him to Bart, they got together on this art fraud thing and Lutz said he’d be the initial seed money.”
“I’m not sure I even understand what they were doing.”
Tim sat back, rested his hands on his thighs. “Bart had a forger. The guy is good too. I guess he couldn’t make it on his own work, so he started doing copies. Bart figured he could have the guy forge paintings and sell them as the real deal. He made up some story about how Renaissance wasn’t selling and it would be a good investment for when the market turned around.”
“That’s how he got people to believe they were buying the real thing so cheap.”
“Yep. The forger needed to be paid though. A lot. Bart didn’t have that kind of liquid capital.”
Lucie smacked her hand against her forehead. “That’s where Lutz came in.”
“Yep. He gave Bart the money to pay the forger.” Tim shrugged. “When Bart sold the paintings, Lutz got half.”
“They had to know they’d get caught.”
“Not really. The art world can get pretty shady. And Bart was smart enough to target people who were novices and wouldn’t necessarily know the paintings were fakes. Along with the paintings, they received forged provenance.” Tim brushed his hands together. “Scam complete.”
“At least until my art history major employee spotted that Gomez.”
“Yep. I’m seriously entertained over Owens selling Lutz a fake. That’s some high-end street justice right there.”
Lucie laughed. Hey, I did that. Made her laugh after her rotten day.
“I can’t wait to tell Lauren this one. She’ll probably write a paper on it. Good God. What about that Robert guy Bart was arguing with? Is that related?”
She set her hands on the table and he grabbed them. “Not to the fakes. Before he and Lutz came up with this scam, Owens was desperate for some quick cash and sold R
obert’s paintings to a gallery. He told Robert they were only on loan. How the hell he intended on getting out of that one, I don’t know, but he’s been ducking him.”
“He sold them? What a creep.”
“Yeah. We’re gonna see what we can do there, but the guy might get screwed out of his paintings. Anyway, Lutz and Owens will probably both make bail and be out in a few hours, but they’ll be punished. Owens mailed some of the paperwork involved in the Lutz transaction.”
“U.S. mail. That’s a federal offense.”
And knowing what he did about the Joe Rizzo trials, Tim knew Lucie understood the penalties federal offenses could rack up. “Sure is. They’ll do some time. Just depends on how good their lawyers are.”
“Such jerks. I’m so angry at Mr. Lutz. He totally betrayed me. I trusted him. And that’s not easy for someone like me. The worst of it is, I love Mr. Lutz’s dog. Now I won’t get to see him anymore. Everything was great and Lutz had to ruin it.”
Yeah. He did. For breaking Lucie’s heart alone, Tim wanted to pound on the guy. Make him think a little harder about his choices. She didn’t deserve this. “You never know,” he said. “Maybe the wife will divorce him and she’ll want you to keep walking the dog.”
“That would be great.” The minute it came out of her mouth she gasped. “Wow, that sounded bad. I didn’t mean…”
Tim cracked up. “I know what you meant. And, yeah, that would be great.”
Someone knocked and a second later, Rich Laslo stuck his head in. “Her brother is here to take her home.”
Tim nodded. “Thanks.”
The door closed again and Lucie sat back, letting out a long breath. “If Joey is wearing that damned velour tracksuit again, I’ll kill him.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Close your eyes.”
Two days later, Lucie and Ro stood in front of Coco Barknell while the workers removed the weathered Carlucci’s sign. A cute winking poodle, Coco Barknell’s giant-sized logo, would soon be splashed above the store’s awning. The entire block would see that poodle, and Lucie took plenty of satisfaction in that.
Plenty.
Her entire life, people in this town had been divided into three camps when it came to Joe Rizzo, and by extension, his family. The worshipers, the tolerators, and the haters.
Oddly, the ones Lucie liked the most were the tolerators. At least they were honest. They didn’t like Joe Rizzo’s lifestyle, but enjoyed the lack of violence in Franklin. In many ways, Franklin fell under the protection of her father.
“Come on,” Ro said. “Humor me. Close your eyes.”
“Why? I’ve seen the place.”
Ro flapped her arms. “Not finished you haven’t. You saw paint and tile. Now it’s done-done and I want you to close your damned eyes. Right now.”
“Yikes. You don’t have to get hostile.”
“Apparently, I do.”
Lucie closed her eyes. Might as well. Ro had pulled off a miracle and completed the project in plenty of time for them to move everything in and get the house back to normal for her father’s return in five days. Lucie owed her, at the very least, this little indulgence.
“Okay. Just don’t let me walk into a wall or anything. Tim is picking me up in half an hour and I can’t have any drama or bruises. I’m trying to lay low after the art fraud.”
“Honey, good luck with that.”
They both laughed as Ro led Lucie through the door, complete with jangling doggie bells. “Little bump here,” Ro said. “I talked to Joey about that. He’ll have someone fix it so nobody trips.”
Probably a good thing. A lawsuit they didn’t need.
A burst of cool air puckered Lucie’s bare legs. Yay. Working air conditioner. She should have brought a sweater though. Unaccustomed to dresses, something she vowed to change since she had a cute new guy who’d mentioned he liked them, she hadn’t even thought about the sweater. Maybe Ro had one in her car.
Lucie stopped walking. “Can I look now?”
“No. Not yet. Stay here. One second.”
Ro let go and stepped away, her high-heeled sandals clickety-clacking against the tile they’d picked out.
“Do you have a sweater in your car I can borrow for tonight? I forgot one.”
Ro huffed. “Honestly, my work is never done.”
Lucie grinned. In the next ten minutes, a sweater would miraculously appear.
“Open ’em!” Ro said.
Lucie did as she was told, blinking a few times to readjust to the light. Ro stood four feet in front of her, arms spread wide.
“Ta-da!”
Lucie drew a hard breath as she took it all in. The wooden blinds, the fresh paint, the silk screens separating the sewing area from reception. To Ro’s left, gleaming in the sunlight, was a giant mahogany desk with two chocolate-brown upholstered chairs in front of it. Across from that sat a smaller desk, also mahogany. The guest chairs were different though. Still upholstered, but with a more modern fabric. Tan with red, green and brown intertwined circles. Pretty.
Along the wall sat a long table. Probably for meetings or looking at samples.
“Is that a dining table?”
In awe, Lucie rushed over to it.
“Sure is, babe. Amazing, right?”
Total understatement. The entire space screamed warmth and professionalism and class. Simply stunning. Lucie’s heart froze. Just seemed to stop for a few seconds. Her BFF had most definitely pulled off a miracle.
Lucie held her hands out, swooping them around the room. “I’m… I don’t know. Floored. I can’t believe this is that rattrap we started with. It’s spectacular.”
“I know!”
Good old, Ro. Never one to mince words.
Lucie ran her hands over the gleaming top of the long table. Solid wood. Must have weighed a thousand pounds.
“Don’t panic,” Ro said. “I stayed in the budget you gave me.”
How? The table alone had to cost ten thousand. Easy.
Which meant… oh, no. Lucie turned to her friend, her best friend, but no, she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t ask where she’d gotten this expensive furniture so cheap.
“No,” Ro said. “It’s not off the truck, Dopey.”
Lucie tipped her head back. Phew. “Thank you. I didn’t want to ask.”
“I know. And thank you for not insulting me.”
“So how did you pull this off?”
“Thank the lady in Barrington who’s downsizing her fifteen-thousand-square-foot house into a condo. Total fire sale. I got all of this from her. The desks, chairs, table, screens, everything. I even picked up some stuff for my house. Joey got a truck and we hauled it all back here. Tell me you love it. Please. I know it’s a little more cozy than you probably expected, but with our clientele, I think it’ll work.”
“Are you crazy? It’s fantastic. I’m so grateful. And I can’t believe you got this done so fast.”
“I can’t take all the credit. Joey got the contractors in here so I could do my magic.”
Her brother. The big lug. She’d hear about this for years, but that was okay. She’d thank him every time he reminded her what he’d done for her. “I’m a little surprised he was so agreeable.”
“Eh. I made it worth his while.”
Ro winked and the vision of Joey and Ro reenacting Position Seven popped into her mind. “Blech. I don’t need those details. Thank you very much.”
The doggie bells hanging on the door jangled and Lucie and Ro turned to see Tim walking through. A little ping happened in Lucie’s ear and her chest blew open. Just a whoosh of happiness. Tim did that for her. Gave her a lightness she hadn’t known in a long time. She wouldn’t read too much into it because this thing was still in its early stages, but she’d enjoy him for now and not worry about the future.
He scanned the room. “Whoa, ladies, the place looks great.”
“I know!” Ro said.
Lucie walked to him, popped a quick kiss on his lips. “Ro and Jo
ey pulled off a miracle. We can get everything moved in now. And our sign will be here tomorrow.”
Tim linked his hand with hers and gave it a squeeze. “I guess you’re all set then.”
Lucie turned back to the room, took it all in again, and visualized her mom sitting at a commercial-grade sewing machine and Ro sketching designs while Lucie handled the administrative tasks from the giant mahogany desk. Coco Barknell. Something told her this former rattrap would be the start of a very nice future.
She glanced down at Tim’s much bigger hand wrapped around hers. He’d hung in there with the entire art fraud mess and never questioned whether she, Joe Rizzo’s daughter, could be involved.
This was a good man.
She lifted their clasped hands and kissed the back of his. “Detective, I think you’re right. I do believe I’m all set.”
Buy the next book in the Lucie Rizzo Mystery Series
Dog Collar Couture
Mafia princess turned canine couturier Lucie Rizzo knows dogs are woman’s best friend. Thanks to her fashion-forward four-legged clients, Lucie’s dog walking/designer pet accessory business is booming. And for once her love life isn’t far behind.
Lucie devotes her days to building the Coco Barknell brand, but her nights are all about roguishly sexy Tim O’Brien. At least they will be if she and Detective O’Hottie finally take their relationship to the next level. But bring an Irish cop home to her mobster father? Fuggetaboutit.
Lucie’s knack for finding trouble lands her in the doghouse—and on the six o’clock news. Someone’s absconded with a million-dollar piece of cinematic costume history, with Lucie the only witness to the crime. Not to mention the prime suspect. To clear her name, she’ll need an assist from her entire wacky crew: friends, family…and future (hopefully) lover.
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