Dog Collar Knockoff (15 page)

She scooted to the end of the bench, ever hopeful she might get sprung. Seconds later, Tim appeared on the other side of the bars.

And the humiliation grows…

Being his day off, he wore cargo shorts with his badge hooked on the waistband and a T-shirt tight enough to display his chiseled shoulders. Hands in pockets, he studied her with pursed lips.

“Hey, handsome,” Fusion said. “You looking for me? I’ll treat you right.”

Lucie rolled her eyes. Fusion needed shock therapy. Who tried to pick up a cop while locked in a cell? Unbelievable. Or maybe that’s the way things were done in here. How would Lucie know?

Tim shook his head, but a lilting, mischievous smile played on his lips. “Lucie, Lucie, Lucie. I thought I gave up my bad girl phase in college.”

Oh, hardy, har. She drew a breath, tried to smile. She appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood, but—God—this was mortifying. A burst of air caught in her throat and pressure built behind her eyes. She inhaled through her nose. The stale smell of old sweat and dirty bodies traveled down her throat and she choked out a breath.

“Lucie?”

Dammit. No crying. She grabbed onto the bars and gripped them—no crying—but… She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t contain them and tears spilled over. Humiliation complete. “I’m so sorry.”

Tim set his big hands over hers and squeezed. “Hey, hey, hey. It was a joke.”

“I know. It’s not that. We were just out together last night and here I am in jail. I swear to you I didn’t know those boxes were there. I just found them this morning. As soon as I found them, I called Joey to see if he knew where they came from. Check my phone. You’ll see.”

“Shhh,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I talked to Joey. He got you your father’s lawyer. They’re on their way.”

Still blinking back tears, she nodded. Lawyer. “Okay. That’s good.” She glanced back at Fusion still giving Tim the once-over. Prostitutes. Go figure. She faced Tim again. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Well, sweetness, I happened to call you and Joey picked up. He grabbed your phone for you, by the way.”

“Joey told you I’d gotten
arrested
?”

She’d kill him. One date and her brother tells Tim—a detective!—she’d been arrested. Way to kill a girl’s chances.

Tim shrugged. “Don’t get pissy. He figured I could help. I made a few calls. Maybe it’ll get you outta here fast.”

Ignoring the germs, she rested her head against the bars. “Thank you. I can’t believe this.”

“You’ll be okay, Lucie.”

She lifted her head. “Just so you know. I’ve never been arrested before. I don’t have a rap sheet.”

He ran his finger over her knuckle, just a gentle, supportive touch. “Rap sheet. That’s funny.”

“I’m just saying.”

The door at the end of the hallway opened again and Tim stepped back.

“Rizzo,” the uniformed officer yelled. “You’re going home.”

Oh, thank God.
She met Tim’s gaze, knowing her speedy release probably had more to do with him and less to do with the top-notch lawyer her father kept on retainer. “Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t thank me. Joey did most of the work.”

How crazy was it that
Joey
had bailed
her
out? This was a nightmare she’d never anticipated. The ribbing would be endless. Particularly since he’d managed to never get arrested.

Lucie Rizzo.

Jailbird.

She sucked in a breath and held it for a few long seconds.

Tim stepped back as the officer unlocked the cell door and waved Lucie out. Soon she’d be standing on the sidewalk in the sunshine and fresh air. Something she had a whole new appreciation for. For two years, this had been her father’s life. She couldn’t fathom that.

After collecting the brown paper bag containing her belongings, she walked to the front of the building. From behind her, Tim pushed open the glass door leading to the lobby where Joey, her ape of a ball-busting brother, stood waiting.

In none other than a velour tracksuit.

At least it didn’t look like the ones seized at the store.

With Tim beside her, she halted and blinked a couple of times to make sure this wasn’t some twisted nightmare.

“I’ll kill him where he stands.”

“Wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Tim said, “But that’ll definitely get you jail time.”

“Luuuuce,” Joey drawled, “how ya doin’?”

“Shut it, Joey.”

He held up his hands in his classic
who me?
gesture. “Just making sure you’re okay.”

The desk sergeant grunted and she shot him an apologetic look. Joey would never learn. This was why people didn’t like them. This… this indifference toward the law.

I’ll kill him later.

But he’d gotten to her fast—faster than she’d imagined. For that, she’d love him forever. Well, as much of a pain in the butt as he was, she’d love him forever anyway because he was her brother. Underneath all the nonsense, he was a sweet guy who always took care of his family.

But the track suit? She could have lived without that little jab.

Regardless, she went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I can’t believe you walked in here wearing that getup.”

“Classic, right? I had it in the back of my closet. The sergeant almost crapped himself.”

That made her smile. Just a little. “Thank you for getting me out.”

He patted her back. “No sweat. Even if I harass you over it, you shouldn’t be in here.”

She turned to Willie, her father’s lawyer, as usual dressed in a custom-tailored suit. She shook his hand. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

He nodded his bald head and hit her with the slick smile that matched the slick suit and cocky demeanor. “Of course. I’m always available to Joe’s family.”

Considering his retainer, she supposed that was true. It probably should have been a comfort, but… nah. Normal people, upstanding, law-abiding citizens shouldn’t have a defense lawyer on retainer. Simple fact.

“Let’s get out of here,” Joey said. “I’m gettin’ a rash.”

The four of them piled out of the police station into the glory of late afternoon sunshine and the fresh air she’d craved minutes ago. The station stood on a corner lot nestled in between row houses on each block. A few cars cruised the street, but otherwise, traffic was light.

Willie said something about calling the prosecutor. Something about a deal. All of it was goo in her mind. Later, she’d ask Joey or Tim about it. Now? Exhaustion had set in.

At the parking area, a space so small she couldn’t call it a lot, Willie slid into his Jaguar and waved goodbye. On to his next client.

Joey swung his key ring on his finger. “Who you riding with?”

“I can take you,” Tim said.

He wanted to take her. Another burst of relief. He wasn’t dumping her. At least not yet. “Are you sure? You’ve already done enough.”

He set one of his big hands on her shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Joey didn’t just flinch, his whole body spasmed. Being so close to Frankie, seeing her with someone else couldn’t have been easy.

“It’s okay,” Tim said. “I don’t mind.”

Joey dug Lucie’s phone from the front pocket of the ugly velour track pants and handed it over.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Sure.” He hit the button on his key ring and stomped to the car. “I’ll see you at home at some point.”

“Okay. Does Mom know about this?”

“Oh, she knows. The minute you got hauled away, The Franklin Press went into action.”

The Franklin Press. Otherwise known as the gossip mill.

Lucie winced. “Is she mad?”

“At you? No. But she’s pissed. And she’s working the neighborhood, trying to figure out who did this to you. She’s no slouch either, you know.”

Yes. She did know. Mom was practically a landmark in this town. Nobody crossed her.

“Quit worrying about Mom and focus on Dad. He’ll find out soon enough.”

Her father with his jailhouse snitches. The man got information faster than the Internet. “I will. Thanks again, Joey.”

“Later, Luce. Love ya.”

Oh, now Lucie knew, without a doubt, she’d stepped into someone else’s life. Jail and her brother saying he loved her? Too much.

They watched Joey wheel out of the lot. Almost dreading it, she faced Tim, staring up into his pretty green eyes. “Guessing you’re ready to dump me about now. Not that we were an item or anything, but this sort of throws a kink in you spending time with me.”

“Is that what you think?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Actually, no.” He puffed out his cheeks. “You, on the other hand, seem really bothered by the fact I’m a cop. If you want to end this, just say so. No harm, no foul. We go back to being two people who sort of know each other.”

Was that what she wanted? To force him away. To relieve herself of the headache of dating a cop. Even if she really liked that cop. If she did that, her father’s notoriety would once again influence how she lived her life, and she’d fought too hard for that
not
to happen.

Nope. She enjoyed Tim O’Brien’s company. If they decided not to see each other, it wouldn’t be because he was a cop and she was Joe Rizzo’s kid.

“I don’t want that. Not at all. I was giving you the out.”

“Well, I don’t want it.”

What a guy. He didn’t care what people thought. He was on her side. The thing she’d always wanted from Frankie, but couldn’t quite get him to be one-hundred percent, without fail, on board with.

“Good,” Lucie said. “Thank you for supporting me today.”

He dropped his arm over her shoulder, turned her toward his car. “You bet. Now tell me how the hell you think those hot tracksuits got into your storage room.”

*

Who knew dating
Lucie Rizzo would bring this kind of action?

Tim sat in the living room of Joe Rizzo’s house, something that amused him on several levels. As he listened, Lucie basically vomited some wacked-out story about a “maybe-fake” painting.

He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Your art history major, dog walker got you riled up about a painting you brokered a deal on and now you think it might be a fake Gomez. Whoever he is.
And
you overheard a shady conversation with the art dealer you brokered this deal with. Do I have that right?”

“Yes.”

Not bad tracking on his part. “By the way, you could have mentioned this last night when I asked about your day.”

“I didn’t want to involve you. I didn’t know what to do.”

He held his hand up. “We’re gonna chalk it up to us getting to know each other’s hot buttons. Future reference, full disclosure is preferred.”

She rolled her bottom lip out, blinked those big blue eyes and something inside him came unhinged. This girl might do him in. “Damn, you’re cute, Lucie.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing and I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“I’m a big boy. I’ll let you know when I’m sideways about something. Got it?”

“Yes.”

Excellent. Lucie Rizzo and her looney family were a handful, but she couldn’t help who her father was. Why walk away from what appeared to be a great girl because of her family tree? Didn’t seem right.

“Good,” he said. “Now back to what we know. After your trip to Michigan, you contacted the lawyer to see if you could track the origin of the maybe-fake painting.”

“Yes.”

“And then you found the tracksuits in your storage room.”

“Yes.”

“Where they there yesterday?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t be sure, but I don’t think so. Those bigger boxes kind of stood out and I was back there on Thursday and didn’t see them. Do you think the boxes are related to the maybe-fake painting?”

“Don’t know. Could be a coincidence.”

She flopped back into the chair, ran her bottom lip against her teeth, and nibbled. “Either way, I’m in trouble for keeping stolen merchandise in my shop.”

“Not if we can prove you didn’t know they were there.”

“I don’t even know where they came from!”

“I know where they came from.”

She eyed him. “Where?”

“The back of a truck.”

*