The Perfect Ten Boxed Set

by Dianna Love

  She rolled her eyes. “Even with a concussion? Unbelievable.”

  “Still a guy, Luce. And that part of my brain is intact.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll stick with the couch, for now. Do you need anything?”

  “You just shot down the only thing I need.” This said as he crawled into his bed alone. He’d be no good to her now anyway. She’d have to do all the work. He pulled the sheet up and prayed for the peace of mind he needed to sleep. At least then he would stop thinking he’d put Lucie in danger.

  Two hours later, after a raging battle for sleep, Frankie used his key to unlock his parents’ front door and slipped in.

  “Pop?” His voice was somewhere between a whisper and his regular tone. No sense giving anyone cardiac arrest by sneaking up on them.

  An eerie darkness enveloped the newly painted room. His mother had finally gotten rid of the fuzzy wallpaper, but a shaft of light filtered from the kitchen as Pop swung around the corner, still wearing his navy pinstripe pajamas.

  “Frankie?”

  “Morning.”

  “What are you doing here so early? You okay?”

  “I gotta talk to you.”

  Dad put a hand on his back. “How’s your head?”

  Lucie’s mother must have called his mother. Luce had warned him about that. He wasn’t the only one flapping gums with a parent.

  “Could be worse,” Frankie said. “The meds help.”

  “Jeez, Frankie, with your history, you gotta be more careful.”

  Getting knocked to the ground by a would-be dognapper wasn’t exactly his fault, but his father didn’t know that. Not wanting to terrify her mother, Lucie had told her Frankie slipped and hit his head. Not exactly heroic, but it worked for their purposes. “Yeah. I know.”

  “Come in. Your mother isn’t up yet. In a little while, she’ll make you a good breakfast. You hungry?”

  “Not so much.”

  Frankie wasn’t a breakfast guy, especially with a swollen brain, but his mother’s ham and eggs might relieve the ache a bit. If he could keep the food in place.

  His father led him into the kitchen and poured a second cup of coffee. The Herald sat open on the table. Pop read every article, every day, no exceptions.

  “Sugar, right?” his father asked.

  “Right.” He handed him the sugar bowl and Frankie hoped the burn of coffee wouldn’t send his tender stomach into a boycott.

  “What’s up, kid? Why aren’t you in bed?”

  Asking questions without them sounding like accusations wouldn’t be the easiest thing Frankie had ever experienced. He ran his middle finger and thumb across his forehead, felt the pressure drive through his skull.

  Say it.

  “I don’t know how to ask you this, so I’m gonna lay it out.”

  His father sat across from him, took off his reading glasses and dropped them on the table. His dark eyes held intensity, but Frankie recognized the look as being more concern than anything.

  “You can ask me anything.”

  Yeah, well, they’d see about that. “You know all this crap with Lucie and the dognappings?”

  “She get hit again?”

  “Almost. She zapped the guy with her stun gun.”

  His father cracked a smile. “Is that a fact?”

  Frankie couldn’t resist smiling. Nobody would ever expect Lucie to use a stun gun. He held up a hand. “Swear.”

  “Maybe she’s got a little of her father in her after all.”

  There was a scary freakin’ thought. “Anyway, we think someone swiped one of her reports from the house and that’s how they know who her accessory clients are.”

  “Someone broke into the house?”

  “We think so. She had a spreadsheet go missing. It never turned up.”

  His father’s bottom lip poked out for a second. “Reasonable, I guess.”

  “Pop?”

  “What?”

  “I told you about the diamond. Could Jimmy have overheard and told someone else. Maybe they’re going rogue?”

  His father sat back, thought about it for a split second. If that.

  “No. Some of these young guys, they’re a little…” Dad held his hand to his head and motioned like he was turning a screw, “…whacked. But Jimmy? No. Not with Joe’s daughter.”

  Frankie slugged a gulp of coffee, set the mug down and waited for the impact. Nothing. So far, so good. “It sounds nuts, but it’s the only thing I can come up with.”

  His father leaned forward, smacked a hand on Frankie’s arm. “I’ll ask around. If it’s one of our guys, I’ll find out and take care of it.”

  Frankie nodded. “Keep it low profile. Lucie doesn’t want Joe finding out. He climbed all over her when we saw him last. We’ve got enough problems without her being pissed at me. We need to figure out where this diamond came from so we can all get back to normal.”

  His father held up two hands. “I’ll keep it quiet, but you can bet I’ll take care of it.”

  ***

  “How’s it going?” Frankie asked Lucie when she came through his door carrying a white paper bag.

  Grateful to see her, he rested his head back on the couch, and hoped there was a meatball sandwich in that sack. “Is that from Petey’s?”

  “You bet. Thought you’d like some lunch.” She knelt beside him, ran her fingers through his hair and he enjoyed the comfort of the gesture. They were together again and he intended to enjoy it. “Do you need anything?”

  “I need a lot of things, but they all require you naked.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So, your brain still isn’t the only thing swelled?”

  He laughed. “Come on, Luce, I’d want sex if my arms we’re hanging off and I was bleeding out.”

  The sandwich came flying at him and he tore into the bag. “I guess I’ll settle for this. Hunger set in about an hour ago, but I was too lazy to move. I can’t believe you went to Petey’s for me. You hate Petey’s.”

  “Which is why I had Ro go in.”

  Frankie snorted. “Atta-girl. Always searching for the workaround.”

  “You deserve a meatball sandwich.”

  “Yes, I do. What are you up to the rest of the day?”

  “Today is the interview for the bank job, so I need to go home and change. After the interview, I’ll finish the run with Joey and tonight I’m meeting with a web-designer. I might want a website for Coco Barknell. I could put the dog walking services on one page and the accessories on the other.”

  “Sounds like you have a plan.”

  “Yep. It’s the safety net if I don’t get a job.”

  He unwrapped the foil and a bit of sauce dripped onto his T-shirt. Nice. It’d probably get a lot worse before he was done so he ignored the stain and bit into the sandwich. The sharpness of the garlic and cheese caused a riot with his taste buds and he closed his eyes. Heaven.

  “Watching you eat one of those is always exciting. It’s almost a turn-on.”

  He swallowed. “They’re so damn good. What are you thinking about the banking job?”

  “I’m not holding my breath. There are a lot of people with more experience than me out of work.”

  “Yeah, but you’re good. And Lutz recommended you. That’s gotta carry some weight. Be prepared if they offer you the job.”

  She switched to a sitting position next to the sofa. “That would be nice.”

  “Would you take the job?”

  “I think I’d have to. I need health insurance. My benefits from the old job will expire soon and it’s expensive to buy my own. Plus, I need to get out of my parents’ house.”

  After three bites, Frankie set the sandwich on the cushion next to him. Might as well take a break and see how it settles in. “Is it that bad?”

  “Well, Joey is Joey, but he’s been laying off. I think he feels bad about the dognappings. And my mom is a dream. She’s saving my butt helping with the sewing.”

  “What’s the problem then?”<
br />
  Lucie hesitated. “The old neighborhood is too stifling. And when my father calls, we have to practically line up to talk to him and all he does is lecture me about wasting my education.”

  “That’s because you haven’t told him Coco Barknell could be huge. You could open shops all over the country. Then will your education be wasted?”

  “Frankie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I have a business plan. I did production estimates and salary and benefit options. I’ve got it all figured out.”

  Good girl. A pulsing nailed him right in the gut. Might have been the sandwich, but he wanted to think it was the business plan. “You could open a store downtown.”

  “Not right away. It’s too expensive. Unless I get another investor.”

  “I can give you more money.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want you risking any more of your money. I was thinking I should ask Mr. Lutz. He may want to do it. If he doesn’t, he’d be able to hook me up with the right people.”

  “Luce?”

  “What?”

  “Are you sure about taking the bank job if they offer it? You’ve got all this Coco Barknell stuff figured out. Might be worth the risk.”

  Seemed like a no-brainer to him, but Lucie didn’t have that warrior instinct. She liked to play it safe. Analyze the figures, the market conditions, the possibilities.

  “It’s the medical benefits. With a banking job, I have a safety net. All the money I’d spend on benefits could go into my savings. Once I’m working again, I can do Coco Barknell part-time until I have enough money saved to go full-time.”

  Frankie understood her thinking, but being unemployed seemed like the perfect opportunity for her to get Coco off the ground. All she needed was the capital. And a good dose of self-confidence.

  But Lucie didn’t like taking risks with her personal life. Over the years, her father’s lifestyle meant living on the edge and she had never gotten comfortable with that. If only Frankie could get her to take a chance. “Then I guess you’ll take the job if they offer it to you?”

  “I guess I will.”

  Something about that seemed like a damn shame.

  ***

  After the interview, Lucie jumped into a cab to meet Joey at the Bernards’ so they could finish the dog walks.

  “Thanks for handling the morning run for me,” Lucie said when Joey came off the elevator with the dogs who, as usual, greeted her by pawing at her feet in a play bow. She bent low and rubbed each of them under the chin. “Good girls. I missed you too.”

  “On a schedule here.”

  Lucie laughed. For a change, someone else worried about time. “I have jeans in my bag. Let me change and we’ll finish up.”

  “How’d it go?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounds like a good place to work.”

  “Yeah, but did you get a vibe?”

  “No, Joey. I’ll know when I know.”

  He waved her off. “It’s all bull anyway. This is why I like my job. I don’t have to deal with this crap.”

  Now he was comparing being a bookie to banking? Priceless. “You also don’t have a 401K.”

  And there was nothing he could do about it because bank accounts could be seized by the government, and he wasn’t about to leave a money trail.

  “Hey, I got some cash saved.”

  Probably in a box in the attic. Which she’d find by the time she was finished searching for the diamonds. “Doesn’t it bug you that you can’t have a normal bank account?”

  “Nope. It’s safer.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “When you got your last investment statement, how much was it down?”

  Oh, no. She wasn’t buying into this.

  Joey grinned at her. “Guess how much my retirement account was down?”

  Nope. Not biting.

  He made a zero with his thumb and index finger.

  “But when the market comes back, my money has the potential to grow where yours doesn’t.”

  “It also has the potential to tank.”

  She shook her head. “Forget it. You’re like a brick wall.”

  “Yeah, but I know what I see when I look in the mirror.”

  Lucie hefted her tote bag on her shoulder and squeezed the strap. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “What do you see, Luce?”

  What did she see? Some days she thought she knew. But those were the days where all this rising above smothered her like an extra thirty pounds. Those thirty pounds made taking an extra step a struggle.

  In some ways, she wanted to be more like Joey. He never worried about what the world thought or where his life would lead. He lived in the moment, day to day and that suited him fine.

  “Joey, don’t you ever want more?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’m okay with my life. I don’t dream about being some corporate schmo. I can have everything I want doing what I’m doing. Hell, if I moved to Vegas I could work in a sportsbook and I’d have a legal job.”

  “So, there you go. Why not move to Vegas and be legitimate?”

  “Too hot there. And everything I want is here.”

  She slid her tote off her shoulder, stared down at it while the girls sniffed around the bottom. “We are so different. All I want is to get away from Franklin and all you want is to stay.”

  “Pretty much.”

  She lifted the bag with her clothes. “I need to change.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Frankie walked into Petey’s a little after seven o’clock with his head still pounding like a mother. A big one.

  “Ho,” Jimmy yelled when Frankie pushed through the door.

  “Ho,” Frankie yelled back in his Jimmy voice.

  Didn’t this crew ever go home?

  Frankie went to the counter to order. “Did you guys eat?”

  “Yeah,” Jimmy said. “Petey! Get Frankie his sandwich.”

  “Doing it already,” Petey said.

  Normally, Frankie liked the familiarity in Petey starting his sandwich before he’d even ordered. Tonight though, it felt ordinary. Typical. Boring. “Petey, did you start it yet?”

  Petey turned to him, bread knife in hand. “I just cut the bread.”

  “Make it an eggplant parm.”

  “What?”

  “Ho.”

  “I think that fall scrambled his brain,” Lemon added.

  Part of this scenario scraped against Frankie’s nerves. Had he become that predictable? Looked like it, because the guys were getting a hell of a ride out of it. “Yeah. Eggplant parm today. I’m living large.”

  A big, hulking guy with a head the size of a movie marquee came out of the back room. He spotted Frankie, swung around and went back the way he came.

  What was that about?

  Something about the guy tapped at Frankie’s memory. Where had he seen that big square head?

  He straddled the vacant chair between Jimmy and Lemon. “Who was that guy?”

  Jimmy waved. “He’s some mope on one of the other crews. He don’t come around too much.”

  “Good thing too,” Lemon added.

  “Why is that?”

  Lemon shrugged. “Thinks he’s a smart guy. I’d like to show him how smart he is.”

  “I’ve seen him before,” Frankie said.

  “He’s been around a while. Maybe you saw him somewhere.”

  “Maybe.”

  Petey slid a tray onto the counter. “Eggplant parm.”

  From his seat, Frankie stared at the tray, but his eyes wandered to the back room. He knew that guy. Or at least he’d seen him somewhere before. And it was recent.

  Leaving the sandwich, Frankie headed to the back room. “Be right back.”

  “Ho,” Jimmy called. “You’re food is up. Don’t let it get cold.”

  But Frankie ignored him. He needed to put eyes on this guy. He strode down the short hallway with the banged up steel g
ray walls and the cracking linoleum floor, halting when he got to the door where the sound of muffled voices came through. One of those voices belonged to his father. He raised his fist to knock and stopped.

  Walk in. Surprise them.

  Frankie’s temples throbbed—damned concussion—but he set the pain aside and wrapped his fingers around the ancient crystal doorknob.

  He pushed the door open. “Pop?”

  His father sat behind Petey’s desk with the square-headed guy standing on the opposite side. Dude angled back, saw Frankie and whipped front again.

  “Frankie!” His father shot out of his chair, came around the desk and put a hand on his arm to usher him out. “I’ll be right out.”

  But Frankie’s eyes were on the tall dude with the square head who wouldn’t make eye contact. How the hell did he know this guy?

  He pulled his arm from his father’s grasp, stepped toward tall dude and extended his hand. “I’m Frank Falcone.”

  Tall dude nodded once. “How are ya?”

  “Not bad.” He burned the image of this guy’s face—brown eyes, scar next to his right eye, thick nose that had to have been broken a time or two—into his head.

  “Frankie,” his father said, “order me a sandwich. I’ll meet you outside.”

  His father wanted him gone. Frankie usually didn’t come back here when his father conducted business. Not that his father ever told him to stay out, but he never wanted to know what went on behind this closed door.

  Today, his father wanted him out. Why?

  “Sure, Pop.” He turned to the tall dude. “What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Okay, then. Flaming moron.

  Frankie went back to the table, inhaled his sandwich and bolted. He walked the few blocks back to his house and called Joey on the way.

  “I can’t talk,” Joey said. “The Bulls are down by three. I could lose my ass.”

  Frankie blew that off. With a seven o’clock start, it was way too early to be worrying about the ending. “There was a guy at Petey’s before. I need to know who he is.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve seen him. Can’t figure out where. Jimmy said he’s on one of the other crews. I went to the back office and he was in there with my father. He wouldn’t give me his name.”