The Perfect Ten Boxed Set

by Dianna Love

  If she wouldn’t make Frankie choose, she had to. She slid her hand from his.

  “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Dammit!” Frankie roared, the pressure behind his eyes so fierce he pushed his fingers into them and miraculously found no blood seeping through.

  Lucie had just walked out of his house—probably his life—and he wasn’t even sure he understood why.

  He stuck his bare feet into running shoes and ran the three blocks to Petey’s.

  “Ho!” Jimmy said when Frankie stormed through the door. “You’re a mess, kid.”

  Ignoring the comment, Frankie, hands on hips and his breath coming in bursts from the sprint, turned to his father. “I need to talk to you. Outside.”

  Pop stood, motioned Frankie to the door and followed him to the sidewalk. Not wanting to risk being overheard by any listening devices planted outside Petey’s, Frankie turned left and they strode in silence for a solid block.

  Their steps chewed away at the cracked concrete as cars ambled by. Feeling secure that they’d walked far enough, he stopped.

  “Straight out. Did you plant stolen diamonds in Joe Rizzo’s house?”

  As expected, his father’s face, lit from a street lamp under a darkening sky, remained impassive. Nothing. Frankie waited. One of them would have to give in. Dad stood on the sidewalk, completely at ease after Frankie had just accused him of being a thief.

  “What, Frankie?”

  Bingo. Evasive action. A non-answer to a simple yes or no question. Suddenly, the frustration and exhaustion from the past weeks curled inside him, shifted to a slithering rage that consumed him. His father had lied.

  “All these dognappings. You putting me off when I asked for information. It’s making sense now. Guess what? Theresa found those stones and hid them.”

  His father held up his hands. “Whoa.”

  Whoa nothing. Frankie was beyond that. “You stole those stones and hid them in Joe’s house. In Joe’s house!”

  His father held his arms out in a, who-me? gesture. “Frankie.”

  Frankie stepped back. He had to. Never in his life had he thought about putting hands on his father. Never. But the fury inside scrambled his brain and thoughts of pounding on the man railed at him.

  He bit down hard, sucked the cold evening air through his nose and closed his eyes. “Tell me what you did.”

  “Hang on.”

  He opened his eyes. “No. Tell me. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you lied to me when I asked you for help. Worse, you put Lucie in danger.”

  Silence stretched between them and the relationship Frankie thought he had with his father began to crumble. Frankie waited. His father finally shook his head and looked at the sidewalk.

  “There’s no way around it,” Frankie said. “Not if you don’t want me taking a bag of jewels to the cops.”

  That got his father’s attention. He looked up, his eyes burning into Frankie’s. “You’d do that? To your own father?”

  “If you brought this mess to Lucie, yes, I’d do it.”

  His father stayed quiet for one, two, three seconds. “I hid them there.”

  The whooshing of cars on the street, the awning of the hardware store flapping overhead, a bus horn, all amplified inside Frankie’s head and he pressed his fingers against the throb. As sure as he had been that his father was guilty, he wanted him to deny it. Wanted him to explain this insanity.

  “You robbed that castle twenty years ago? You’ve been hiding those stones ever since?”

  “Frankie—”

  “Answer me.”

  “Yes.”

  “You and who else? The article Lucie found said it was two men.”

  “The guy you asked me about? Neil? I did it with his father. His father died last year, told Neil where his share was.”

  “Does Joe know?”

  His father snorted. “No. It was a side job. Neil’s father came to me with the idea. The castle had just been turned into a museum and didn’t have good security. We jumped on it and split the stash.”

  A fierce thought slammed into Frankie. “When we were there, in London, you had me hold a box closed while you taped it. You told me they were souvenirs you were sending home. Did you have me help you pack those diamonds? Your nine-year-old son?”

  No answer. He’d take that as a yes. His father had made him an accomplice. At least in Frankie’s opinion.

  Frankie folded his arms as the last of his adrenaline rush faded and the cold air blasted his bare arms and legs. Forgot a jacket. “You robbed the place, blackmailed Theresa, then twenty years later used a house key Joe trusted you with to hide the stuff?”

  Silence.

  “When did you hide diamonds?”

  “After Joe got locked up, I figured the feds would come after me next and since they’d already searched Joe’s house, I thought my share was safe there. All I needed was to hang on to the stones for a while longer. I’ve been holding them, letting time pass so when I fenced them no one would remember the heist. The cash from those jewels would be a nest egg for your mother and me.”

  “Don’t think you’ll play me by bringing Ma into this.”

  “Just give me the bag and I’ll put it somewhere else.”

  Frankie spurted a laugh. Classic. “What am I supposed to tell Lucie?” He held his hands out and in a singsong voice said, “Gee, honey, this has been a whole misunderstanding. My father broke into your house, hid the stuff, terrorized you and now I need the bag. Oh, and don’t tell your father.”

  “How much does she know?”

  “About your involvement?”

  His father nodded.

  “All of it. Theresa told her when a detective working the dognappings came knocking on their door. You didn’t count on Theresa finding the diamonds and holding out on you. She’s had them the whole damned time. Lucie used one stone on a test coat. She never even sold it. Theresa found the rest and swapped them with fakes.”

  His father poked a finger at him. “Talk to Theresa. Get the bag and tell her you’ll take care of it. Leave Lucie out of it.”

  As if. And that quickly, he understood Lucie’s aversion to this life. Maybe Frankie had been walking around with blinders on, but he’d been happy not knowing. This kind of betrayal though, how could he ignore it?

  “I can’t get my head around this. You ordered Neil to kidnap those dogs? To steal from Lucie’s clients?”

  “I didn’t have a choice. You told me she was selling the accessories. I went back to the house and the jewels were gone. I had to make sure she wasn’t selling them.”

  Frankie’s vision blurred. He tapped his fingers against his thigh. “I told you she wasn’t selling them.”

  “Hey, you said you found one stone. I figured she sold the rest and didn’t know it. I couldn’t take a chance.”

  “How’d you get her client list?”

  “When I was looking for the stones I saw the report on her desk.”

  He bent at the waist to keep from pulverizing his own father. Sickening. All of it. This is what loyalty got him. Despite what his father did for a living, Frankie had trusted him to take care of loved ones. Instead, he’d walked all over them. Including Frankie.

  “You were going to keep at it until you got everything back?”

  “Unless we came up with another idea.”

  Frankie turned toward the street, stared across at the three-story building fading into darkness and wondered what the hell he’d say to Lucie. She had already figured it out, but he hadn’t wanted to believe her. Now he had his father’s admission.

  And what about Joey? He would have to know. Frankie’s chest caved in. All these people knowing upped the risk of Joe finding out, and he would demand some sort of retribution. This ridiculous scheme could put an end to Frankie’s fathers’ life. He turned back. “Where’s Neil in this?”

  “He’s helping me get my stuff back. He’s got his father’s end and cou
ld go to prison for it.”

  “Tell him to back off Lucie’s dogs. She never used any of those stones on her accessories.” The irony of it finally hit him and he let out a sarcastic laugh. They were stealing dogs for no reason. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know Lucie would lose her job and start making dog accessories? At the time, it was golden.”

  “Yeah,” Frankie said. “At the time. Now it’s a mess. And Lucie is in the middle of it.”

  ***

  Lucie knew Joey had returned home. She knew this because he made sure to stomp his ginormous feet when he came in. To give it a little oomph, he slammed the back door hard enough to rattle the windows. And she heard all this from her bedroom.

  For the love of God. The events of the day had already sucked every ounce of energy from her. Facing Joey couldn’t possibly trigger further damage. She closed her laptop and headed downstairs for a cup of tea.

  By the time she got to the base of the stairs, he was in the living room.

  “You look like hell,” he said.

  Forget the tea. She so didn’t have the energy for this. “Thanks so much.” She turned back toward the stairs and the quiet of her room, where she could decide how to get her family out of this without hurting Frankie.

  But then Joey’s hand clamped on her shoulder and he spun her around. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Ha! That question would take waayyyy too long to answer. Lucie stared into his eyes and hoped he wouldn’t make some sarcastic comment that would cause a fight. With Frankie not here to mediate, it would be a bloodbath.

  Without warning, the realization of living without Frankie slammed into her and the pressure behind her eyes built. No. She couldn’t cry anymore.

  “Whoa,” Joey said. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Back off!”

  “Screw you. I’ve been busting my butt helping you.”

  To hell with him. The tormenting tension coiled and her brain went silent for a minute. She went up one step so she’d be eye to eye with Joey. Maybe blasting him would relieve some of the pressure. “I’ve thanked you a hundred times. What do you want from me?”

  His head snapped back an inch and she felt her temper slowly unwinding. “You’re not the one who lost a coveted banking job. You’re not the one who has had dogs stolen. You’re not the one holding stolen jewelry. Oh, and by the way, you flaming jerk, Frankie and I are done. Caput.”

  Joey folded his arms. “You two break up constantly. And you don’t know that diamond is stolen.”

  The hell she didn’t. She mirrored his stance. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Lucie blinked a couple of times, but didn’t say anything.

  “If there’s something else, you’d better tell me.”

  With his hot head, he’d be the last person she’d tell. She spun away from him “Go away, Joey.”

  “Yeah, sure, great. No problem. What do I need you for? I’ll run down to Petey’s and ask Frankie’s father what that blockhead has to do with a diamond being in our attic.”

  “No!” Lucie tore down the steps and followed him into the dining room. Joey stopped short and she plowed into his back. Her gaze shifted to the pile of fabric on the table waiting for her attention. Coco Barknell. The start of this whole thing. A bitter taste flooded her mouth.

  “Son of a bitch,” Joey said. And then, with tiny movements, he turned to her, his body moving ever so slowly while the gears in his brain clicked into place. He set her with an icy stare. “Frankie has talked to his dad all along. What aren’t you telling me? What does Al Falcone know about this? And is it going to piss me off?”

  The last morsel of Lucie’s energy fluttered away and she dropped her shoulders. What a mess. Joey was the last person she wanted involved in this. He was too high-strung, too ready for battle, but from his bullying stance, she knew he wouldn’t give up. With him already suspicious, he’d create more chaos.

  “Three seconds,” Joey said, “and I’m going to Petey’s.”

  Dammit.

  “One…two…”

  Lacking a white flag, she waved her arms in front of her face. “Stop it. Please. Give me a minute.”

  Maybe two. Or maybe two thousand. Not that it would ever be enough. She pulled one of the dining chairs and dropped into it before looking up at him. “Promise me you won’t freak out.”

  “Yeah. Good luck.”

  Figures. She shifted from him, fiddled with a piece of fabric and wondered at the sudden calm inside her. Had she given up? Or did the fight just not seem worth it? Drawing a breath, she set the fabric down, smoothed it flat and turned back to her overbearing brother. In Frankie’s absence, she’d have to do this.

  “I’m going to tell you what I know. You are not going to lose it. If you do, we’ll all get hurt. Including Mom. If that’s what you want, go ahead…blow your stack. But I believe you’re a better man than that.” She flopped both hands out. “It’s up to you.”

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Joey stalked the living room, his yelling bouncing off the walls while Lucie sat in her chair watching the tirade. And she’d conveniently left out the part about Mom’s affair. Sooner or later, he would question why their mother felt inclined to accept a package from Mr. Falcone, but for now, he was too busy storming about the diamonds being hidden in their house.

  The back door opened and Lucie spun to see Frankie, still wearing his shorts and T-shirt—he must be freezing—step into the kitchen. She launched herself out of the chair before Joey spotted him. Who knew what would happen with this absurd level of tension.

  Frankie looked at her with those deep brown eyes that reached inside her and the temporarily dormant ache in her chest suddenly pummeled her.

  “I guess you told him.”

  She waved a hand in the direction of the screaming. “He was threatening to ask around. You should probably go until he calms down. He’s not mad at you, of course. But the situation is…awkward.”

  “Awkward?”

  “Look who’s here,” Joey hollered when he caught sight of Frankie.

  Frankie glanced over Lucie’s shoulder. “Stop acting like a moron and we’ll talk. If you can’t do that, screw yourself.”

  Bam! Joey shut up. Gotta love that Frankie. He had a way with people.

  “You go screw yourself,” Joey said, his big feet eating up the space between them.

  With her hands on her brother’s chest, Lucie gave a push. “Knock it off. No one here is to blame. Let’s sit down and talk. I’ll make some coffee.”

  As much as it shredded her emotionally, she needed Frankie right now. If nothing else, he always brought order. The fact that she’d spent the afternoon bawling was an obvious indication of her need for help.

  Her brother headed back into the dining room.

  Frankie squeezed her arm, but she didn’t want him touching her. His touch reminded her of too many nights spent together. If she had to move on, she couldn’t be thinking of those things. She patted his hand and slid from his grasp. His hand remained suspended in midair. Their eyes met for a second and she saw the sting of rejection fill his eyes.

  Yes. They had both been gutted.

  “We’ll talk later,” Frankie said, clearly not willing to give up on them. “Let’s work on the problem with the stones.”

  “Excellent idea,” Joey fired.

  “Shut up,” Lucie and Frankie yelled.

  But Frankie wasn’t done. He walked into the dining room, Lucie tight on his heels, ready to bust up a brawl. He pointed to a chair. “Joey, sit and be quiet for five minutes.”

  The two of them did that stare down thing men did until Joey, probably exhausted from his tantrum, sat.

  “Luce,” Frankie said. “I’ll help you with the coffee.” He held a hand for her to go first and then followed. “You okay?”

  She grabbed the coffee pot and held it under the faucet. “I’ll live.”

  “Good.�
� He jerked his chin toward the dining room and leaned in close enough that his breath brushed her cheek. Could he not step back? “We need to keep Joey focused.”

  “Always a challenge.” The metal coffee canister sat on the counter and she doled out a few scoops then flipped the switch on the pot. “But if he can stay on course, he’ll be able to help me. And I need help. I mean, it’s not like I can go to the police. I have a vision of my mother’s mug shot and it’s not amusing.”

  “Nobody is going to jail. Where’s your mom?”

  “Bingo night at church.”

  “That’s good at least.”

  “This is ironic,” Lucie said. “The one time I want my father’s help and there’s no way to communicate without the authorities listening.”

  “Yeah. And my father is definitely out.”

  Propping a hip against the counter, she sighed. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could return the stones? Just take those suckers back?”

  Frankie rolled his eyes. Lucie puckered her lips. Was that a joke? She wasn’t sure. The thought had to have come from somewhere, right? And considering she was a firm believer in the universe sending messages, maybe this was a message.

  Why couldn’t they simply return the stolen jewels?

  Frankie, seeing her hesitation, grunted. “You can’t be serious.”

  Boosting away from the counter, Lucie went back to the dining room where Joey sat like a bad boy in time-out. “What if we returned the stones to the castle they were taken from?”

  “Come on, Luce,” Frankie said from behind her. “How are we gonna do that? We can’t walk in there and drop them off.”

  Lucie angled into the chair across from her brother. “Of course not. We’d have to come up with something. All I know is that it would get stolen property out of our possession.”

  This felt foreign to her. Lucie had always been the rule follower in the family, never taking chances or disobeying superiors. She was the good girl. And yet, here she was, trying to figure a way to unload a million dollars’ worth of stolen jewelry. Not to mention the stash Neil had. Somehow, this wound up in her lap to fix.

  And she’d do it. If only to save her mother from hardship.