She put a hand on his arm. “This is over. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Lucie,” Mr. Falcone said.
The sound of her name coming from his lips fried her and she poked a finger at him. “You shut up.”
The stern look he wore had probably sent many men to their knees, but Lucie’s fury ran so hot she was immune. This man had tormented her for weeks, not to mention what he’d done to her mother. Being disrespectful was the least of the damage Lucie sought.
“I haven’t been hiding those diamonds all these years to let you give them back.” He snatched her arm and squeezed. “Where’s that damned key?”
The camera hummed again and Frankie stepped sideways to block it from capturing his father’s hold on Lucie. “Let go or I walk out of here and you never see me again.”
The un-Frankie-like violence simmering in his voice wasn’t helping her back teeth to stop floating. Good Lord, she had to pee.
He stepped closer to his father. “Am I worth what’s in that bag?”
Mr. Falcone had the nerve to laugh. At his own son.
Enough of this. Lucie elbowed them both away. “Knock it off. We’re all leaving here.”
Voices from the stairwell carried through the narrow hallway and a couple with two young children stepped into the dungeon. Lucie, Frankie and Mr. Falcone huddled around the salad tong display and played tourist.
Could there be a bathroom down here?
Frankie blasted the woman with the Frankie Factor smile and she returned the gesture. “We’ve seen this before,” she said to her cohorts. “Let’s get to the next area.”
All four filed passed and Lucie crossed her legs. Really have to pee.
She went up on tiptoe and put her lips to Frankie’s ear. “Let’s just leave. There’s nothing he can do.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
With his attention focused on his father, he said. “Even if he finds the key, he’ll have to explain to my mother and sister why I refuse to see him.”
Mr. Falcone gritted his teeth and Lucie imagined those pearly whites snapping under the stress. Thirty years from now—if he lived that long—he’d be an old man with shifting dentures who could have been her father-in-law.
“You would do that?” Mr. Falcone asked Frankie. “Over money?”
“I should be asking you that.”
Touché, young squire. Lucie stood a little taller as her heart flip-flopped. After all the fighting and breaking up and getting back together, Frankie might finally understand her yearning to be more than Lucie Rizzo, Mob Princess. And all it took was a couple of dognappings, a concussion and stolen jewelry.
“What’s it gonna be, Pop?”
Lucie glanced at Frankie. “I could always ring up Detective O’Brien and tell him about this. Or, better yet, the local police. I bet they’d love to hear this story.”
“There’s a thought,” Frankie said.
“Wouldn’t Neil love that?” she added.
Mr. Falcone drilled her with another hard stare. “Don’t be stupid, Lucie. You’ve got a lot to lose.”
“But not nearly as much as you. I can’t imagine my father would be very happy about this. You know what a temper he has. Then there’s the whole messy legal aspect.” She shifted around him and stood next to Frankie, but she wasn’t done yet. This man needed to pay. And she was just the girl to make that happen. “I could crush you with that bag. Or, we can all walk out of here and forget the whole thing. I’d say that’s fairly generous of me considering what you’ve put me through.”
Mr. Falcone shifted his gaze to Frankie.
“Don’t make me choose, Pop. You won’t like it.”
And Lucie knew it was over. For once, Frankie had sided with her.
“I have to pee,” she said as they pushed through the door leading out of the dungeon. Frankie kept an iron grip on his father’s elbow as they walked and Lucie picked up the pace.
Like a beacon, the restroom sign flashed into sight. Thank you. She turned down the corridor and sprinted.
“Luce? Please.”
“Sorry. Gotta go.” Did he think she wasn’t just as anxious to get away?
Well, some things couldn’t wait.
“Hurry,” he called from behind her.
Two minutes later, after the longest pee of her life, she emerged from the restroom to see Frankie and his father waiting for her. In silence, they all walked out the main entrance to the long driveway that had led them in.
Once they were out of earshot, Frankie said to his father, “How’d you know where we were?”
“Your mother told me you were going on a trip. The timing was strange for a vacation. I wanted to see what you were up to.”
“I didn’t tell Mom where I was headed.”
“Cell phone,” his father grumbled. “My guy at the P.D. has a friend at the phone company.”
Frankie halted. Uh-oh. To remind him she was there, Lucie clasped her hand over his. She, of all people, knew the hurt that came when a parent proved to be a disappointment.
“Stay focused on what’s next,” she said.
He drew a long breath and closed his eyes. “Right. We get him back to his car, get his stuff and he flies back to Chicago with us.”
“That’s a plan.”
As much as the idea of being in Mr. Falcone’s company infuriated her, they couldn’t risk him trying to steal the diamonds back. He’d caused enough trouble over these past weeks. Lucie would never forgive him.
Never.
Particularly because the other half of those stolen jewels were somewhere and she knew who was responsible.
These damned people. All she wanted was a respectable life and this is what she got. Shoulder-deep in stolen jewels.
* * *
A banging on the aiport’s single bathroom door sounded and, like a springboard, Lucie shot off the toilet. For God’s sake. Why couldn’t she take a pee in peace anymore?
All she wanted was a few minutes alone before they boarded the plane and the only place to find it at this private airstrip was the miniscule bathroom the pilots used.
“Luce!” Frankie banged again.
She yanked her pants up, washed her hands and ripped the door open. She loved this man, but the damned building had better be on fire.
He dragged her into the outer room where the attendant had abandoned the news to chat with their pilot on the tarmac. “It’s on the news. The stones. The owner can’t believe it.”
On the television, a reporter doing a live feed from Kildare Castle was delivering the details of the recently discovered bounty.
Frankie jerked his chin to the television. “They’re questioning all the tourists who bought tickets with credit cards.”
“Good thing we paid cash,” she quipped, but her head began to pound. What if the camera had caught her going down that hall?
“The Kildares will have to give the insurance company part of their money back, which we didn’t think about, but hell, Luce, we got rid of the stones.”
They had actually pulled it off. It wouldn’t right the wrong, but at least the stolen merchandise was out of the hands of innocent people.
“Do they have any idea it was us?”
“Don’t think so. No one has come forward about seeing anything.”
She dropped into one of the two metal-framed chairs. Could it really be over? It would seem so, but they needed to get out of England. No sense hanging around. She could follow the story on the web. “We should get out of here. Fast.”
Chapter Twenty
Two days later, Lucie arrived home at three-forty-five after walking the dogs. With the stolen jewelry no longer in her possession, she had taken the bold step of not only walking alone, but going back to her original, time-efficient route. The emotional freedom of it, the mental peace, allowed her to feel like herself again.
She settled in with her laptop at the dining room table to review the inventory for the Frampton’s order. Good progress had
been made and she needed to log each item. Her mother had separated everything into large bins stacked in the corner of the room. A bin marked Coats sat at the top and Lucie hauled it to the table.
The front door opened and she turned to see Frankie come through.
“Hey,” he said.
She smiled. “Hi. Look at what we’ve created. This Frampton’s order might be the start of something. For the first time in a long time, I’m excited.”
“Does that mean you’re staying in Franklin?”
Lucie made a huffing noise. She hadn’t thought about living arrangements. “I guess it does. For now.”
He grinned, pulled her out of her chair and wrapped her in a hug. “Good for you, Luce. I’m proud of you.”
Slamming her eyes shut, she concentrated on breathing. How did he always know exactly what she needed?
Because he loved her. Over the years, they had learned to tune into what the other needed. He was definitely better at it, but maybe that could change. Despite the craziness of their families and the fact that his father had put her in danger, she loved him.
All this time she’d been blaming him for being born into the life, asking him to change, to do what she wanted. He deserved more than that. And she’d give it to him.
She backed out of his grasp, but held onto his arms. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
She waved a hand toward a chair, and Frankie dropped into it as if the world had pushed him there. He’d been through a lot these past days.
“How are you?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“About your father, I mean.”
“It is what it is.”
What a typical male non-answer. Lucie snorted. “Silly me, I expected you to talk, but then I remembered that men don’t talk, so I guess I will. You’re in a bad place. Your father disappointed you. I’ve been in that place. I’d love to say you’ll get over it, but you probably won’t. You will learn to deal with it though. I promise you that. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”
He waggled his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes. Always with the sex.
“Actually,” he said, “I’m not even in the mood for sex.”
“Lordy, it must be bad then.”
“I’m so pissed I can’t even look at him. All I want is a meatball sandwich from Petey’s, and I can’t go there because I’ll see him. I’m so filled with…with…I don’t even know…that I’m not sure what I’d say to him.”
“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s like someone drilled a hole in your chest and scooped out part of you.”
He blew air through his lips and started tracing imaginary lines on the table.
And then she remembered something her mother had said to her a few years back when she and her father were fighting like rabid animals. At the time, the words didn’t seem like much, but over these weeks, she had come to understand the importance of them. “Frankie, our fathers, in their own way, love us. They simply make bad decisions. We don’t have to embrace their choices, but we need to live our own lives. I’m hoping you and I can do that together.”
Frankie’s fingers stilled on the table and he glanced up at her. The silence of the room lingered.
“Luce, what my father did will always sit between us. I hate that, but if I turn away from him, my mother will be devastated. I can’t do that to her. She doesn’t deserve it. For all the loyalty I’ve given everyone, I feel like the schmuck now. I don’t know where I go from here. I have to figure out how this thing with my father and your family will play out. And I want you to help me. I need you to support me, Luce.”
A month ago, she’d have walked away. She’d have left Frankie, like she had done many times before, to figure it out on his own. Now she wondered if she’d been fair to him and that cinched her chest. Agonizing pressure. Her desire to prove she’d risen above the life almost cost her the love of a good man. An exceptional man.
She linked her fingers in his. “You stood by me through all this craziness, even going against your father. I love you for that. And for so much more. I don’t have to like what your father did, but I’ll learn to co-exist with him. I’ll do that for you.”
He bent over, dropped his forehead against her hand, still linked with his and breathed out. “Thank you.”
Slowly, she combed her fingers through his hair and rubbed. “To prove how serious I am, I’ll do one more thing for you.”
He bolted upright and the spark in his eyes made her smile.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“I will go to Petey’s and get you a meatball sandwich.”
He grinned. “You hate Petey’s. It must be love if you’re willing to go that far.”
He had no idea. “Yes, I believe it is.”
Chapter Twenty-One
On a bright sunny day the following week, Lucie hurried the girls along. It was close to lunchtime and her schedule was beginning to unravel.
The girls, however, must have sensed her angst and refused to poop.
“Come on, girls. Cut me some slack. We’ve been out here thirty minutes.”
Josie looked at her, blinked twice then stuck her nose to the ground to continue the search for that perfect spot.
Lucie sighed.
A battered Crown Victoria came to a stop and double-parked. Oh boy. She knew that car.
Detective O’Brien emerged.
“Ms. Rizzo, how are you?” A smile eased across his freckled face.
Was he looking for her? He stepped onto the curb and reached to rub under Fannie’s jaw.
“Hello, Detective. I’m fine. What can I do for you?”
“I’m on my way back to HQ and saw you. Figured I’d check in. Everything been quiet with the dogs?”
She nodded. “Absolutely.” Now that we’ve returned part of the stolen jewelry.
“Glad to hear it.”
“I’m still working the dog theft ring case, so if you ever need anything, be sure to give me a call.”
What she needed was for him to arrest a blockhead named Neil and find the rest of those hot stones. Knowing Neil had gotten away with the remainder of the jewels, not to mention tormenting her by stealing the dogs, was chewing at her a millimeter at a time. Pure torture. She’d love to see him suffer for it.
Maybe she’d give the good detective the 4-1-1.
Then again, hadn’t her father always taught her not to be a rat? A snitch? A fink? Yes, he had. But he also taught her not to take any crap, and the way Lucie saw it, Neil had dished out a whole lotta crap.
Her hands started sweating. What was with the flop sweating all of a sudden? She bent low to pat the girls and then straightened. Dirty rotten staller.
“I’ll let you get back to work,” O’Brien said.
He stepped off the curb, but turned back. “By the way. I saw footage about some diamonds that were returned to a castle in England. The guy caught on tape has a strong resemblance to Frank Falcone. You know anything about that, Ms. Rizzo?”
Lucie’s brain exploded into a flurry of thoughts. Had he seen her on the tape? Was he playing with her? No. If he had proof, she’d be in handcuffs.
“Detective, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
He ran his tongue along his bottom lip while a grin played peek-a-boo. “That’s what I thought. Like I said, if you think of anything, you give me a call.”
Once again, he moved to leave. Tell him about Neil. Get rid of the guilt.
But she wasn’t sure she could do it. Somehow, it seemed a betrayal of her father’s rules. Then again, what about her own betrayal? Didn’t that count for something? Didn’t she have the right to see her tormentor punished?
O’Brien stopped at the back bumper of his car, and waited for a bus to go around.
“Detective?”
She met him at the curb.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Lucie inhaled, letting the moist lake air fill her lungs while Josie squatted to poop. Must be
a sign from the universe that all was well.
“Ms. Rizzo?”
She smiled. “I can’t help you with the castle incident, but I know someone who can.”
The End
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And now for a sneak peek at
STEALING JUSTICE
A Covert Action Pursuit (CAP) Team Novel
by USA Today Bestselling Authors
Adrienne Giordano and Misty Evans
Coming Fall 2013!
Justice “Grey” Greystone was fired from the FBI for insubordination. Now the FBI wants him to use his renegade skills to take down a serial killer who’s above the law. To trap the Lion, he’ll need to send the perfect woman undercover.
Sydney Banfield runs a women’s shelter and bends the law daily to help victims of abuse escape their painful lives. Three of the women she’s recruited for government jobs have become victims of the Lion. If Syd has her way, the vicious killer will never touch another woman again.
Grey and Sydney set a trap—with Sydney as the sexy bait—but the Lion adds a complex twist to his homicidal agenda. With Sydney’s life on the line, Grey must race against the clock to catch a killer who’s as unstoppable as he is evil.
Excerpt:
People let their guard down when they thought no one was watching.
Justice Greystone—Grey for short—stared through his Burris spotting scope, magnifying his subject’s swaying body as she danced in the privacy of her office.
Sydney Banfield danced with youthful abandon and didn’t realize she was being watched through the floor-to-ceiling window of the former church building. She’d swept her long hair, still wet from her morning shower, into a high ponytail, the ends brushing her shoulders as she moved to music he couldn’t hear.
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