“Ma’am,” the cop said, “are you hurt?”
“No. He grabbed me while I was walking the dog. He ran off when he drew a crowd.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
“I did.”
She offered a brief description plus the license plate number Joey had memorized and found herself the recipient of a slew of questions regarding her assailant’s speech patterns, possible tattoos, or identifiable marks. Satisfied he’d ascertained what he could, the cop stepped away to put out a BOLO while the five of them waited on the sidewalk. After finishing his radio call, he pulled Lucie to the side under the watchful eye of her crew.
“BOLO is out. Do you have any idea why you were targeted?”
Lucie forced herself to stand still. To not rock back on her heels and keep her body language neutral. “None. We’re here on vacation.”
“Un-hunh. Whose dog were you walking?”
The way he asked, that little inflection in his voice sparked something deep in Lucie’s gut. As Joe Rizzo’s kid, she’d learned to recognize skepticism in cops.
“You think I’m making this up? There were no less than twenty people who saw it. Ask any one of them.”
“Didn’t say that.”
Great. Sure. Right. Whatever. Lucie pointed to Mattie’s house. “Mattie Mournay. She lives in that house. She’s a friend of Tim’s uncle and needed help walking her dog, Aphrodite.”
“Baby girl,” Dad called, “you need me?”
Oh, right. With his temper and mistrust of cops, no telling what might happen. Dad liked to tell people he hated law enforcement, but he had plenty of them on his payroll. And he seemed to like Tim well enough.
Which was good considering Lucie might be popping out baby O’Brien’s.
Oy. Vey.
She held up a hand. “I’m good, Dad. Thanks.”
“All right,” the cop said. “We’ll look into this. With the plate, we should find him quick. Stay close to your phone. We might have more questions.”
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere, and I certainly have nothing to hide.”
That I know of.
Seven
It took ninety minutes to corral Aphrodite and return her home, where she was now tucked into her bed sleeping off her jaunt. After showering, Lucie and Tim sat at Uncle Henry’s table sipping lemonade. Well, Tim was alternating between that and a water bottle. Her man wasn’t a big fan of lemonade unless it was laced with vodka, which he might need at the moment.
He drummed his thumb against the table. “You know what I’m thinking, right?”
With him, it could be any number of things, but she had a pretty good idea. “The boarding school?”
“You look young. You’re tiny and he saw you from the back. Maybe he thought you were a teenager.”
As much as Lucie hated it, on her best day, after consuming a large meal, she might hit a hundred and ten pounds. If she was bloated.
From behind, she’d easily be mistaken as younger. Particularly with her hair in a ponytail. Tim’s theory wasn’t far off.
“It does seem an odd coincidence someone sees me with Mattie’s dog and references my mother. Still, we can’t accuse her of anything. I’ve spent my life being judged unfairly and it’s no fun.”
“For God’s sakes, Luce, I’m not gonna waterboard her.”
From outside, the slam of a car door sounded.
Henry.
A sick feeling overtook her. How would they even explain this? Peering down the hall to the front door, she let out a long breathy sigh. “Sounds like he’s here.”
“Yeah. Won’t this be fun?”
It wasn’t every day a man got to question his beloved uncle regarding his girlfriend’s possibly shady life.
“Just go easy on him. It’ll be a shock to him, too.”
“I know.”
They rose and headed for the living room, reaching it just as the door opened and Henry strode through.
With Mattie.
Oh, come on!
Mattie’s presence tripped everything up.
So, Mattie, are you lying about your lack of children? So, Mattie, why are you getting letters from a private school in California? So, Mattie, who’s Paul and why is he after you?
“Crap,” Tim muttered a wee bit too loud.
Quicker on her feet than even she’d anticipated, Lucie forced a bright smile. “Hello, you two.”
Ugh. The greeting packed way too much high-pitched sweetness. Uncle Henry stared at her like she might be stoned.
Maybe she needed to tone that down.
“Helloooo,” Mattie said, clearly missing tension tight enough to strangle an elephant. “We just stopped at the house and my baby is sleeping soundly. Thank you for wearing her out. She loves her walks.”
She did a whole lot more than walk.
When Lucie failed to respond, Tim’s elbow connected with hers, shooting her out of her mind travel. “Uh, right, sure. No problem. She’s a sweet girl. I, um, brought Tim with me.”
As segues went, it wasn’t great, but heck, it had been a long couple hours. It would have to do. All eyes shifted to Tim. His sunburned skin deepened to a shade darker and a sheen of sweat peppered his forehead. Holy cow, Lucie had never seen him sweat like that under pressure.
Uncle Henry rolled his bottom lip out as he studied his nephew. “Everything good? You look…off.”
Everything was most certainly not good.
Particularly with Tim trapped in some sort of silence hell.
Takes a woman.
Every time.
Fighting the tightness between her shoulders, Lucie lifted her chin and faced Henry and Mattie. “We, um, had a bit of an issue.”
Mattie’s blue eyes popped wide and ping-ponged from Tim to Lucie, Tim to Lucie.
“What issue? What happened?”
Lucie held up her hands. “Everything is fine now, but it was a little scary at the time.”
Beside her, Tim hadn’t moved. An absolute statue. Excellent. The always in charge detective had turned mute.
Well, she’d do this for him because she loved him, but he’d owe her. Big time.
“Okay, let’s sit down for a few minutes and we’ll explain.”
Lucie gestured to the seats, and Mattie and Uncle Henry settled on the sofa. Lucie and Tim took the adjacent armchairs. As soon as her butt hit the chair, Lucie launched into a synopsis of the failed abduction—leaving out the part about Tim snooping, obviously.
For a moment, Henry sat speechless. Absolutely dumbstruck. “Someone tried to kidnap you? In Paradise City? That never happens.” He reached for Lucie’s hands and squeezed. “I’m so sorry we put you in that position.”
This poor man. Here he’d tried to help the woman he loved and wound up feeling guilt. How many times had Lucie been in that same position? Call her naive but doing the right thing shouldn’t result in problems. “Oh, Uncle Henry, it’s not your fault.”
“What did the police say? Did they catch him?”
The previously mute-struck Tim cleared his throat and a smidge of relief loosened that pesky tension locked between Lucie’s shoulder blades.
“Not yet,” Tim said. “The plates on the SUV were stolen. It’s not uncommon. Makes the vehicle harder to trace when they belong to someone else.”
Mattie did that ping-pong thing with her gaze again. Lucie wanted to smack her. She looked like something out of a Frankenstein movie. A Mel Brooks’ version.
Plus, she’d apparently gotten ensnared in Tim’s trap of silence.
Accustomed to verbal swordplay while questioning witnesses, Tim leveled his detective stare on her. “What’s really tripping me up is the guy mentioning Lucie’s mom, considering they don’t live here.”
“Yes,” Henry agreed. “That’s odd. Did you ask your mother about that?”
Lucie nodded. “We did. The only Paul she knows is from our hometown.”
Lucie met Mattie’s gaze, then shut up. She couldn’t do it. Couldn�
��t ask this woman, right in front of Henry, if she was a liar.
“What?” Mattie shot, her shoulders flying back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Tim held out a hand. “Don’t get excited. We’re putting pieces together and Lucie was walking Aphrodite.”
Henry’s head drooped forward. “You think this guy was after Mattie?”
“Not saying that, Unc. I’m a cop, I’m working through what we know.”
Henry shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. She doesn’t even know a Paul.” Henry swiveled to the still silent Mattie. “Honey, tell him.”
Yes, honey, tell him.
The few seconds of quiet lingered, the stifling pressure filling the space like a flash flood. Just…bam. Mattie sagged back into the sofa and looked away, staring at the curtains covering the front windows. From their first meeting, there’d been a vitality about her. Whether a result of her sun-bronzed skin, the makeup she’d applied with expert care, or her giant hair, when Mattie arrived, everyone knew it. Somehow, in the last thirty seconds, all that energy vaporized.
Kinda like the time Lucie showed up for her dad’s last trial and heard the guilty verdict. The power of her Notre Dame education couldn’t overcome that particular area of Lucie’s history. That one stayed with her.
It was one of the main reasons she avoided saying her last name when meeting people.
Crappy?
Yes.
In her defense, Lucie wasn’t sure what to do about the embarrassment that plagued her regarding her father’s lifestyle.
And, now, looking at Mattie, she sensed something…familiar.
Something humiliating.
Moving on emotional instinct, Lucie rose from her spot and squatted in front of Mattie, gently touching her knee. “We’re not accusing you of anything.” Not much anyway. “We’re trying to figure this out.”
“Anyways,” Henry shot, “this couldn’t be about Mattie. You said the guy mentioned your mother. Mattie doesn’t have any kids and her mother has been dead for years. Must have been mistaken identity.”
“That could be,” Tim said. “I’d like to hear it from Mattie, though.”
The woman’s face crumpled, an epic collapse. She pressed her eyes shut, scrunched her nose, and peeled her lips back.
What the heck?
As fast as the energy had left the room, it came roaring back. A rogue wave about to take out an entire village. A spurt of tears created black streaks below Mattie’s eyes. She whipped her head toward the curtains again and swiped at the tears.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Lucie gave Tim the side eye, but he sat still, his mouth firmly closed. Figuring he knew better how these situations unfolded, she stayed quiet, not moving a muscle.
Uncle Henry leaned over, set his hand on Mattie’s shoulder, and squeezed. “Honey?”
“Oh, Henry,” Mattie wailed, swinging her arms up.
And, here we go…
“What is it, peaches?”
Peaches?
Tim gawked. His entire body seeming to fold in. An absolute jaw-dropping, shocked-the-hell-out-of-him response. Lucie bit her lip, fighting a laugh. Holy smokes, how inappropriate would that be right now?
Mattie threw herself into Henry’s arms, her sobbing and shrieking enough to split Lucie’s skull.
Tim rubbed both his hands over his face. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s calm down.”
“Calm?” Henry asked, his voice laced with haughty indignance. “You got her all wound up.”
“Me? What did I do? We were trying to help by walking the damned dog. Don’t blame me for this shit-show.”
“Aahhhh,” Mattie wailed again.
“You stop screaming!” Henry said.
Huh. This thing had—to Lucie’s sick satisfaction—gone totally Rizzo.
Finally. Tim’s weak spot revealed. All these months he’d been damned near perfect. Normal family, friends, habits. Normal, normal, normal. On some level, it left her feeling subpar.
Now?
Not so much.
Lucie stuck her fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-shredding whistle. She didn’t typically use the skill, but when she did, it got everyone’s attention. Tim and Uncle Henry’s heads snapped around, both falling silent, but Mattie? She might give Ro a run-off in the election for Drama Queen with that psychotic shrieking.
“All righty then,” Lucie said. “I’m out.”
Tim gave her his death glare.
“What? Usually the whistle works. I’m at a loss.”
The doorbell rang. “Great.” Tim flapped his arms. “The way she’s screaming, that has to be the cops.”
He marched to the door and swung it open. Roseanne, Joey, Mom, and Dad, all showered and looking spiffy, stood on the porch. A fresh wave of horror washed over Lucie.
The situation was looney enough without adding her crew to it.
But Tim waved them in. “How appropriate. Join the show.”
Lucie burst out laughing. Poor Tim.
“For the love of God,” Ro said to Mattie. “Quit that screaming. We heard you from the driveway.”
No inquiry about why Mattie might be losing her mind. Just a command to cease. From the one who usually created the chaos.
Fascinating.
When Mattie didn’t quiet down, Ro marched straight over, grabbed both of her arms, and shook her. Oh, boy.
“Sister! You’re acting like a nut-job and giving me a headache. Believe me, whatever you’re going through, I get it. Girls like us, we need the release, but enough already. Snap out of it and let us help you.”
Mattie shut her mouth. That quick. Just…over.
“Thank you, sweet baby Jesus,” Mom said.
Joey stuck a finger in his ear. “Are my ears bleeding? Dad, you see any blood?”
Dad snorted. “Henry, got any scotch?”
Henry wrapped his hand around his forehead and massaged. “Cabinet over the sink. Pour me one, too. Make it a double.”
Tim made his way back to the seating area and met Lucie’s eye. “Seriously, this is a nightmare.”
She patted his arm. “Everyone take a seat and breathe. Please. Mattie, can I get you anything?”
A straitjacket perhaps?
“What I need you can’t give me.”
Ro squeezed next to Mattie and put an arm around her. “Don’t be too hasty. Lucie is resourceful.”
How sweet was she? Nutty as a fruitcake, as Mom would say, but truly one in a million.
Mattie shivered, her whole-body quaking as she wrapped her arms around her mid-section and rocked forward. “Oh, my God. It’s happening.”
“If she freaks out again,” Ro said, “I’m slapping her.”
Lucie squatted in front of Mattie once more and touched her knee. It worked the last time, might as well give it a go again. “Mattie, you’re fine. Whatever is going on, we’ll help you. Do you know who the man is that attacked me?”
Mattie shook her head.
“What about Paul?”
A long pause gave up the goods. Whatever this was, Mattie had information. Finally, she gave a slight nod.
Tim needed to handle this. Not only was Henry his family, but he was the detective and knew how to deal with these situations. She looked up at him, now standing beside the sofa. He jerked his chin enough for Lucie to know he wanted her to continue.
Great. Thanks for that, fella.
“It’s all right.” Lucie gave Mattie’s arm a squeeze.
“It’s not,” Mattie said. “I put you in danger.” She glanced around the room. “All of you.”
“I don’t understand,” Henry said.
“Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
Dad entered the room carrying two rock glasses. Talk about a healthy two fingers of scotch. He handed one off to Henry who slammed it home and passed the empty glass back to Dad.
“Well—” Mom slapped her hands togethe
r, “—time to go.”
Mattie shook her head. “No. You’ll find out anyway and I’d prefer you hear it from me. I put your daughter in danger today. You deserve to know why.”
Mom sat in one of the armchairs. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”
That was Mom. Always the forgiving one. She’d have to be considering she hadn’t divorced dad after all these years.
Henry met Mattie’s eyes for a long second. Something crossed between them, the energy bringing a settled calm over the room. Lucie glanced at Tim, gave him a small smile. How many times had they exchanged a similar look? And how many had he been the steadying force in her storm?
Plenty. More than she could count.
And she loved him for it.
Apparently, that inner strength was a family trait because Henry, with just a glance, seemed to shore Mattie up.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Henry said. “We’ll fix it.”
Mattie peered at the extra people before looking back at Henry. “I need to speak to you alone. You deserve to hear it first.”
With that, leaving no room for argument, she popped out of her seat and headed for Henry’s bedroom.
“Oh, we have to listen in,” Ro said.
Ohmygod. “No! It’s their business.”
Tim headed for the kitchen. “I’m with Ro. It was theirs until you almost got abducted.”
What in God’s name was happening? Her straight-arrow boyfriend had turned into one of the crazies. “Has a zombie gotten to you? Sucked your brain out or something?”
“Maybe so. All I know is there’s a vent in the kitchen. Might be able to hear from there.”
Ro toddled after him on her mile-high sandals. “Ooh, O’Hottie. Always on the ball.”
“That is so not right,” Lucie said to Joey and Dad.
“Baby girl, you’re preaching to the choir. I got locked up on a bum beef.”
And here we go. Leave it to Dad to bring his own issues into this. Somehow everything always rolled back to Joe Rizzo. In his mind, the tax evasion was trumped up because the Feds couldn’t nail him on organized crime charges.
“Right or not,” Joey said, “I’m effing curious.”
“Joey! Come on.”
“Sorry, Luce. Dad, you coming?”
Dad shrugged. “Why not?”
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