Dog Collar Couture (6 page)

What was this, now? Lauren and the other dog walker were handling things today, so it couldn't be dog related.

Lucie pointed at herself and mouthed, “Me?”

Because, after all, the way he and Ro had been going at it, he might be looking for a nooner.

But, nope, he bobbed his head up and down and jerked his thumb for Lucie to step out.

“What the hell is he doing?” Dad motioned for Joey to come inside, but Joey shook his head.

“I swear,” Ro said, “he's insane.”

Lucie balled her napkin and shoved it under her dish. “Let me see what he needs. I'll be right back.” Lucie turned back. “Stay here. Both of you.”

Ro threw her hands in the air. “Well, excuse me, bossy.”

Great. Now she was mad, too. What a day. Lucie had managed to insult just about everyone she cared about today. And by the looks of it, Joey would be next.

She slipped through the door, walked a few feet so they'd be out of sight.

“What's up?”

Joey nudged his head backward. “Some guy nosing around your shop.”

Going up on tiptoes because her brother was the side of a mountain, Lucie peeped over his shoulder. A man, fortyish, with short, dark hair leaned against a light pole checking his phone. He wore dress slacks and a sport coat. Just business casual enough to still be formal, but not so much that he stood out. “Who is he?”

“Says he's an investigator. What the hell are you into, now?”

“An investigator? From where?”

“Some P.I. firm. I was headed to Petey's, saw him and asked what he wanted. Name's Eric Edwards. Edwards Investigations. And he's looking for you. You want me to get rid of him?”

“No. He could be a potential client. I'll talk to him.”

A client. Good luck with that. The way this day was going, she knew better.

“I'll come with you.”

Of course he would. Joey had a protective streak longer than Soldier Field. Typically, it irritated her. He always meant well, but the tendency to be overbearing definitely existed.

This time, she didn't mind so much.

“Yes. Probably a good idea. This has been the craziest day.”

Joey shifted, held his arm out for her to walk by. “Why?”

“Two detectives, one of whom was Tim, showed up this morning to ask me about the robbery I may have witnessed yesterday.”

“Here we go, again.”

“Add Tim meeting Dad for the first time, and it's been a real humdinger.”

Joey halted, right there on the sidewalk and flapped his arms. “Come on? That's how he met him?”

“'Fraid so. He took it pretty well. But now that Dad now knows I'm dating an Irish cop, stay alert for an ambush.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” As he walked, Joey ran a hand over his right cheek. “I'd hate to have to kick Tim's ass. I really would.”

Lucie spun on him. “Hey, no one is kicking anyone's ass.”

The man leaning against the light pole glanced up from his phone and focused on them. Apparently, she'd been a wee bit too loud.

“Hello,” Lucie said. “I'm Lucia Rizzo.”

“Hello.” He strode toward her, hand extended. “I'm Eric Edwards.”

Lucie grasped his hand, found it somewhat callused, but soft at the same time. Odd that. But, unlike some men, he didn't spend too much time on the handshake. No squeeze, no extended eye contact. No sweaty palm.

Nope. Mr. Edwards was a pro at the handshake.

Lucie slid her hand away and squared her shoulders. “How can I help you?”

His gaze moved to Joey and back. “Can we speak privately?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“What we're talking about.” She waggled her thumb at Joey. “This is my brother. If we're discussing business, as in you would like to hire Coco Barknell, I'm happy to speak privately. If this is regarding something else, Joey stays.”

Joey inched forward. “What
is
this about?”

Mr. Edwards, no slouch himself in the size department, squared his shoulders. Male posturing. Always entertaining.

“I've been hired by Krandall Insurance to investigate the theft of the Maxmillian dress.”

This day. First the detectives and now an investigator.

A burst of voices sounded from behind her, and Lucie angled back, spotted her father hooking the left out of Petey's heading straight for her. Jimmy Two-Toes and Lemon filed in behind, and Ro hustled along in her tight skirt and click-click-clicking heels.

Lucie's stomach plummeted. She was good, but she couldn't handle this bunch. Joey alone could be a challenge. Throw in Dad, his crew, Ro and the investigator and she might as well find a tall building and hurl herself off of it.

“Wait a second.” Mr. Edwards cocked his head left as Dad approached. “Is that . . .”

And here we go.
As usual, her father's reputation preceded him.

“Yes,” Lucie said. “It is. Joe Rizzo. My father.”

“Holy crap,” Joey said, his eyes plastered to Ro.

Any second now he would either make some comment on Ro's appearance or throw his hand over his heart feigning a heart attack. In a lot of ways, it was sweet. In others it felt too caveman.

But it worked for them.

“Don't do it,” Lucie said. “I'll kill you right on this sidewalk.”

“Can't help it,” he said, eyes still tracking Ro and the various body parts that bounced along with her. “That leopard print. It makes me wild.”

Disregarding Mr. Edwards—certain things needed to be done—Lucie stuck her fingers in her ears. “How many times do I have to say I don't want to hear comments like that?”

Joey's mouth moved, but thank a merciful God, she couldn't hear what he said. Except that crew was bearing down on them fast, and the realization that this meeting with Mr. Edwards might possibly be witnessed by all of them sent Lucie's last working nerve into overdrive.

She pulled her hands down, gripped Joey's arm, digging her nails in so he'd know how serious she was about to be.

“Hey,” he said, “go easy with the talons.”

Mr. Edwards cleared his throat. “Everything okay here?”

Lucie hit him with a cheery smile as she dragged Joey closer to the oncoming crowd.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice deadly calm. “If you love me—forget that—if you like me at all, you'll stop them. Just do your Joey magic and get them all back to Petey's for me. Please.”

“What do I get?”

God! They didn't have time for this.

“I don't know. Something.”

“I have your word?”

“Joey.”

“All right, all right. Don't get your shorts in a wad.”

“Thank you. I'll take care of this investigator. Just . . . handle Dad.”

“You owe me.”

As she headed back to Mr. Edwards, Lucie dug in her pocket for her keys. “I'm sorry about that. Let's go inside where we can talk without distractions.”

Inside the shop, Lucie walked to the conference table—that table was seeing some serious action today—and pulled out a chair for Mr. Edwards.

With Mom not here and Ro outside with Joey, the silence of the shop, the sense of calm despite her visitor, washed over Lucie.

If only every day could be silent like this.

She breathed in, enjoyed the moment of silence before sitting forward in her chair. “You said you worked for an insurance company?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“It's standard with an item as valuable as the Maxmillian dress.”

“Do you work with the police then?”

Because if he did, he could get her statement from them, and they could all put her out of her misery.

“We work hand in hand to recover the lost item. Consider me an extra set of hands hired by the insurance company. I can devote my full attention. The police have other cases.”

Lucie nodded. “That makes sense. Plus, you basically need to figure out if the insurance company should pay the claim or not.”

He smiled, not one of those flashy, charming ones, but a half-grin that told her she'd nailed it. Joe Rizzo didn't raise no dummy.

“My goal is to find the truth. If the claim is valid, the owner is reimbursed for the loss. I'm trying to find that dress, Ms. Rizzo.”

“I understand. How can I help you?”

The bells on the door jangled, destroying the calm, as Dad marched in with Joey and Ro following. The energy these three brought?

Mind-bending. Lucie breathed in, fought the wave of hyperawareness prickling the back of her neck.

“Uh, Joey?” Lucie said.

He held his hands up. “Hey, I tried. It's not easy.”

Mr. Edwards stood and faced Dad and his ornery, squinty eyes. “Hello, Mr. Rizzo. I'm Eric Edwards. I'm a private investigator looking into the theft of the Maxmillian dress.”

“Again with this dress? She doesn't know anything. The cops were here this morning.”

“Yes, I'm aware. I have a few follow-up questions.”

“Dad, it's—”

“This is harassment!”

Joey moved next to Dad and folded his arms, his big body blocking the exit as if there'd be some kind of smackdown right here in Coco Barknell.

That'd be great for business.

Time to pull out the big guns. Or, in this case, the big boobs. Lucie hit Ro with the do-something-now stare. Over the years, they'd perfected their signals and played off of each other to perfection.

Ro sighed and popped the first available button on her blouse. The one that took her from sexy to slutty. “Joey,” she said, “can I speak to you a moment?”

Joey got a gander at the enormous amount of cleavage being hurled his way and did a double take.

So easy.

“Outside,” Ro said. “Right now. Please.”

“I'm in the middle of something here.”

Ro went for the next button, and Joey flinched, his entire body spasming. He jumped in front of Ro to block the view of the other men in the room and grabbed her elbow, leading her to the door. On their way out, she slipped her free hand behind her back and gave Lucie a thumbs up.

Two down, one to go.

Awesome teamwork.

Chances of getting Dad out of this room were below slim. In fact, those chances didn't exist. She'd have to, as they used to say in her old office, manage up.

Lucie rose from her chair at the end of the table and scooted over one. Which gave Dad the head of the table and the power position. At least in his mind. Sheer strategic brilliance on her part. “Dad, have a seat. Let's see if we can help Mr. Edwards.”

“Ms. Rizzo, around the time of the robbery yesterday, I understand you walked a dog near the auction house.”

“Yes. I ran into the auction-house manager.”

“I'm aware. I spoke with her this morning.” He retrieved a notepad and tablet from his briefcase and fired it up, poking at the screen a couple of times. He set it on the table and spun it to Lucie. “I collected security video. Would you mind taking a look at it? Let me know if you may have seen the men?”

“Sure.”

He hit the play button and a grainy video rolled. “These are the two men. They came in through the front.”

Lucie checked the time stamp: 4:03. “I was on the other side of the building with Fin. That's right around the time the manager came up and started chatting.”

Edwards stopped the video. “Was that unusual?”

“What? The chatting?”

“Yes.”

Lucie pondered that. As a dog walker she met people. And with a cute dog? Forget it, everyone stopped. Complete nightmare. Each time someone interrupted, her schedule slowly disintegrated. She'd gone as far as to code the attention-getter dogs and assign them to separate routes. That way the time loss fanned over two or three routes.

“I tend to meet people while on the walks, so no, I wouldn't say that's unusual.”

“What about the auction-house manager? Had you met her before?”

“No.”

Edwards jotted a note on his notepad—what did that mean?—before starting the video again.

“The two men in the video? Do you recall ever seeing them in the area? Even if it was weeks ago.”

Dad sat forward. “You think they were casing the place.”

Edwards shrugged, and Lucie went back to the video. Both men wore police uniforms and hats. The taller one's hair dipped below the brim of the hat. That alone would have alerted Lucie to a problem. Most policemen wore close-cropped hair. The overhead view coupled with the hat brims obscured the men's faces, but one was broader in the chest and thicker around the middle. “I'm sorry. I don't ever remember seeing them. It doesn't mean they weren't there, I just don't recall.”

“All right.” He stopped the video, tucked the tablet away. “Do you do the same route every day? Same timing?”

Dad waggled his finger. “Don't answer that.”

“It's okay, Dad. I've already told the police all this, and Mr. Edwards has indicated he works closely with them.”

Dad leaned into his elbows and made direct eye contact with Edwards. “I know this drill. Whatever you think about me, my daughter isn't a crook. MBA from Notre Dame. And I don't appreciate you people coming around her business stirring things up. She's a good girl. Leave her alone.”

Times like this, she adored her father. They had their differences, but when it came to his baby girl, he didn't like people messing with her.

Edwards mirrored Dad's body language. Had the two men been standing, Lucie imagined they'd be all up in each other's faces by now.

“Mr. Rizzo, I've been hired to do a job. All due respect, I don't care who you are or who your daughter is. I'm charged with locating that dress. The more cooperation I get, the easier that will be.”

She'd been around law enforcement enough to know that everyone was a potential suspect. Particularly people at the location of the theft.