Incognito

by Adrienne Giordano

  Lucie stood in the living room, watching them all huddled, heads dipped, around the air conditioning vent in the kitchen. Unbelievable. When Mom joined them, Lucie shook her head.

  “You guys are horrible people.”

  “You just figured that out?” This from Joey, the smartass.

  Ro turned back and stuck her tongue out. “You know you want to. Just hop off that high-horse and get over here.”

  Tim swatted her hand. “Sssshhh.”

  “What is it? Something good?”

  That fast, a switch in Lucie’s brain flipped and she was in motion, heading straight for the kitchen vent. So much for respecting their privacy. “What did they say?”

  Joey rolled his eyes. “If you’d shut up, we could hear.”

  “Swear to God,” Tim said, “if you two start I’m throwing you both out.”

  Whoa. Mr. Always Collected getting his panties in a wad.

  “Henry,” Mattie’s voice streamed through the vent, “I’m so sorry, but I haven’t been honest with you.”

  “Holy cow,” Lucie said. “This vent thing really works.”

  Tim held his finger to his lips. “Ssshhh. His bedroom is on the other side of this wall. It’s the same duct. Which means, we have to whisper. If we can hear them—”

  “We can hear you!”

  That would be Henry. Screaming at them through the vent. “Get away from there before I put you all out on the curb.”

  Crud.

  Tim shook his head. “Thanks, Rizzos.”

  Sufficiently chastised, they shuffled out of the kitchen and dropped into the living room chairs again. Ten minutes later, Henry and Mattie entered. Mattie’s makeup appeared smudged, her eyes red and swollen, and the fat curls in her hair had flopped. She walked toward them, chin high, meeting everyone’s gaze.

  Henry’s body language was all over the place. Tight jaw, hands loose at his sides, stride quiet.

  After spending so much time with dogs, Lucie learned they had a gift, an ability to sense rotten energy. Right now she must have been channeling her dog instincts, because she wanted to run screaming from Henry. “I’m sorry we were eavesdropping.”

  Mattie waved it off. “You’ll find out anyway, so—” she glanced at Henry, “—I’m going to tell you what I told Henry. After your ordeal, you deserve answers.”

  Tim rose from the armchair and waved Mattie to it. “Please. Sit.”

  She took him up on it and eased into the chair, smoothing her hands over her hair, then scanning each of their faces before finally settling on Lucie. “My father is in jail.”

  Heavy silence lingered for a few seconds until Ro snorted. “Oh, honey, that’s not unusual with this bunch.”

  Mattie gave her a weak smile. Leave it to Ro.

  Any other time, Lucie would laugh. This though? Twisted.

  “He’s seventy-four years old,” Mattie said. “He’s owned a real estate brokerage firm in Boston for the last thirty-five years. Eight months ago he was convicted on several charges involving real estate fraud.”

  The flyer she’d seen in Mattie’s house was about a Boston condo complex. Perhaps a deal her father had brokered?

  “I’m sorry,” Lucie said.

  Of all the people in the room, she knew the pain of a daughter—always daddy’s little girl—watching her father go to a cage.

  Mattie shrugged. “I’m getting used to it. It’s taken me a while to adjust to the anger. I’m not sure I’ll get over it, but I’m learning to live with it. Two years ago he made me a partner in the agency. He wanted to pass his legacy on to me.”

  “Uh-oh,” Tim said.

  No kidding. If Mattie was a partner in a business involved with fraud, she could be a co-conspirator.

  Poor Henry. No wonder he looked like a bomb hit him.

  Mattie lifted her chin again. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t know what my dad was doing. I trusted him. I never even worked on that account with him.”

  “All right,” Tim said. “What does this have to do with what happened this morning?”

  Mattie gazed up at Henry, who stared straight ahead. “I’m so sorry, Henry.”

  “Just tell them,” he said.

  After losing his wife, he’d fallen in love with a woman who’d duped him. To Henry, Mattie Mournay must be an illusion. Lucie found herself wildly impressed with Mattie’s deception skills. With as much as Lucie and Tim shared, she’d never be able to keep up the charade.

  “My father was arrested at our office. I had no idea what was going on. They took all of our files and computers. We were left with nothing. It was all evidence. I met later with Dad’s lawyer, who walked me through the charges. Our largest client, That Girl.”

  Lucie cocked her head. “The doll place?”

  “Yes.”

  That Girl was a modern-day phenomenon. Parents would send the company a photo of their child and for the measly sum of four hundred and ninety-five dollars have a doll—a twin—made. Once it arrived, the owners were free to bring the toy into the retail store and outfit it in any of the thousands of over-priced accessories.

  In Lucie’s mind, the whole thing was a tad creepy, but whatever.

  “Big client,” Joey said.

  “Yes. We were responsible for locating retail properties for the entire northeast. They’d been with us fifteen years. Before the Landons even entered the picture, my father worked for That Girl.”

  “The Landons?”

  “Geoffrey Landon.” Mattie gritted her teeth. “That weasel. He was That Girl’s in-house real estate person. A vice president, no less. They hired him a few years ago. Then his father, Paul, came into the picture.”

  The elusive Paul revealed. “Ah,” Lucie said.

  Mattie nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right. You didn’t know.” Lucie rolled her hand for Mattie to continue.

  “Dad met Paul at a golf outing. One thing led to another and he arranged for Dad to meet with some big-time developers. That’s all I knew. Then Dad was arrested for fraud.”

  Tim sat on the sofa arm. “What was the charge about?”

  “Dad and Geoffrey were found guilty of taking bribes from developers.”

  Joey let out a whistle. “Good one.”

  Lucie smacked his arm. “Shut it.”

  “Don’t start.” Tim eyed them then went back to Mattie. “How did the bribery work?”

  “The developers would give Dad and Geoffrey money, trips, or whatever. There’s something about shell companies and Dad being a silent partner. I really don’t know. It was all so upsetting.”

  What did any of this have to do with Lucie getting kidnapped?

  “So, how did you get here?”

  Tim, Mr. Mind Reader. He knew exactly how to keep things on course.

  Mattie nodded. “As I said, I didn’t know anything about the fraud. Nothing. Then one day I started getting threats. Strange men following me, a dead rat in my mailbox.” She shuttered. “That was the worst. I went to visit my father and told him what was happening. He thought Paul Landon was behind it. Apparently, Paul’s a bit shady. And since I was a partner in the agency, Dad said Paul probably thought I knew something that could get him convicted.”

  Tim shook his head, trying to keep it all straight. “Had Paul been arrested?”

  “No. That was the problem. His son and my dad were arrested. The DA is Simon Torrance. He went to my dad and told him he couldn’t make a case against Paul and that he’d have to testify against him. My dad wouldn’t do it. Then they turned to me. Asking all sorts of questions about what I knew. Nobody seems to understand I wasn’t involved.”

  Lucie blurted her first thought. “Did you get a lawyer?”

  “Yes. That was the first thing I did. He told me to give him some time. He went to the prosecutor, but Simon Torrance is, well, aggressive. Always has to win. He told my attorney he could assemble a case against me. I knew he was bluffing because I hadn’t done anything wrong. My lawyer said i
f Mr. Torrance had enough evidence, he’d have indicted me already. Basically, the DA was trying to bully me. My lawyer told me to sit tight and see what happened. Sit tight. While I have dead rats in my mailbox.”

  “You lammed it,” Joey said.

  “Does that mean I ran? Yes. I…lammed…it. I know that makes me look guilty, but I wanted the threats to stop. I have a daughter to protect and thought if I ran, Paul Landon would realize that I wanted no part of the fraud or Boston.”

  Her daughter. Tell your mother Paul knows where she is. That’s what the attacker said.

  “You don’t have the accent,” Tim added.

  “I worked on it. Very hard. For the first month, I kept to myself and watched videos online of people from California. I copied their speech patterns.”

  “That was smart,” Ro said.

  “I am smart. Aside from trusting my father. I changed my name and started over. I even sent my daughter away. Her father left us when she was two. God knows where that loser is. Sending her away was the hardest part of all of this. I miss her so much, but it’s not fair to her. To have to live off the grid like this. I want her to live a normal life. Well, as much as possible.”

  “It makes sense now,” Lucie said.

  Mattie cocked her head. “What?”

  “Maybe the attacker thought I was your daughter.”

  “She’s only seventeen.”

  “From a distance, Lucie looks young,” Tim said. “And she was walking your dog.”

  “I’ve been so careful. You have no idea. Fake name and IDs. A new social security number. All of it so I could hide. And then, last night when I came home I found a flyer tucked under my door. I don’t know what to do.”

  Lucie perked up. “What flyer?”

  “It’s an announcement. The grand opening of one of Paul Landon’s condo buildings in Boston. He must have delivered it. I don’t know how he found me. I did everything right.”

  Tim sat back, drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Well, Mattie, I’d say you missed something, because they did find you. And they think Lucie is your daughter.”

  Eight

  “Excuse me.”

  Henry pushed off the sofa and marched straight to the kitchen. From Lucie’s vantage point, she lost sight of him, but the hard close—not quite a slam—of the back door was a good indicator he needed air.

  Or silence.

  Possibly both.

  Mattie blinked a few times, fighting her water works, then peered at the floor. “He’s so angry with me.”

  “Can you blame him?”

  Throughout all Lucie’s oddball situations, the arguments they caused, the risks she’d taken with her own safety, Tim had handled all of it in a calm, assertive manner. Those incidents aside, she’d seen him interact countless times with idiot valets who lost his keys or customer service people who provided zero help. Even when infuriated, he’d never been cruel.

  Until now.

  “Whoa.” She held up her hands. “Did you really just say that?”

  Mattie wiped away a fresh batch of tears. “He’s right. And, no, I can’t. Henry doesn’t even know my real name.”

  “What is your real name?”

  This from Ro, who’d somehow managed to remain calm and not fly into one of her drama girl episodes. It wasn’t every day this crew met someone with a more interesting past than Joe Rizzo.

  Mattie’s mouth tipped into a wistful smile. “Natalie. Natalie Berringer.”

  “We won’t squeal,” Dad said.

  He gets her. Given his run-ins with the law, Dad shared the most in common with this woman. He understood the crushing emotional toll of criminal investigations and potential jail time.

  Yes, most, if not all of it, was Dad’s fault. He’d chosen his lifestyle. Mattie—Natalie, whatever her name was—suffered the humiliation of her father’s actions. And Lucie knew all about that.

  Tim sat back in his chair and ran both palms up his forehead. The good detective had a headache.

  Lucie stood and patted his shoulder. She was ticked at him for being mean, but he didn’t deserve a migraine. “I’ll get you an ibuprofen.”

  “Thanks.”

  “They’re in the drawer near the stove,” Mattie said.

  Lucie moved to the kitchen and spotted Henry standing in the yard, hands on his hips. She grabbed the medicine then opened the back door, sticking her head out.

  “You okay?”

  He laughed in that rueful way people do when the only other option is to cry. Or pummel something.

  “Lucie,” he said, “I have no idea what I am.”

  “Understandable. This is a lot. Even for me and that’s saying something. If you want to talk, I’m here. I’ve grown up around a criminal lifestyle. I understand the stress and chaos it creates.”

  “Are you defending her?”

  “Not at all. I’m saying there’s more to it than her lies. But you need time to process it. Give yourself that time. Just know that I’m here. I get it, Henry. More than you know.”

  She eased the door closed, grabbed Tim’s abandoned water bottle from the table, and headed back to the living room, tossing the meds to him. He popped it open and dumped three in his hand.

  Lucie snatched the bottle back and checked the dosage directions. “Tim, these are one tablet—”

  “Yeah.” He slammed all three at once and took a swig of water. “What’s your point?”

  My God. Now she’d have to watch and make sure he didn’t overdose.

  Across from Lucie, Ro clucked her tongue. “Well, it finally happened. O’Hottie has straight up lost his mind. We’ll be pumping his stomach before this is over.”

  “No, we won’t,” Tim said. “What we are doing is calling the police.”

  Mattie’s head swiveled around so fast it should have zipped right off her shoulders and taken flight. “I can’t. I won’t do it. I have a daughter to protect.”

  Tim softened his features, let some of his clenched jaw loosen. “I understand. But taking off won’t help. They’ll find you again. And again. And again. You’ll live on the run. Is that fair to your daughter?”

  Lucie shook her head. “Mattie, he’s right. It has to be a horrible way to live. And what about Henry?”

  At the mention of Henry, the room became quiet and Mattie’s brows drew together, creasing the skin above her nose. She peered into the kitchen and Lucie sensed hope crashing. Twenty-four hours ago this woman was a vital, cheery—annoyingly so—creature. Now?

  A pack of wolves might as well circle with the desperation wafting from her.

  “He won’t want me after this,” Mattie said. “Tim’s right, I can’t blame him.”

  Oh, ouch. Lucie gave Tim the stink-eye. He propped his elbows on his knees and lopped his head forward. Yeah, fella, you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.

  “Look,” Tim said. “I apologize for what I said. We were in the heat of it and I lost my head. It’s no excuse for crappy behavior. I’m sorry.”

  Mattie shrugged. “It’s all right. You love your uncle. He’s lucky that way. And, I know you’re trying to help.”

  Fugitive or not, Mattie had a sweetness about her. No wonder Henry loved her.

  “If you ask me,” Lucie said, “we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves on this. The priority is Paul Landon. What does he think you know?”

  “I have no idea. He probably assumes, since I was Dad’s partner, I have evidence.”

  “Do you?”

  “I don’t think so. The police took everything from the office and my dad’s home.”

  Joey held up a finger. “Yeah, but did they check the walls? Under the floors? Could be a gold mine.”

  Leave it to Joey. Lucie swore one day he’d take a sledgehammer to their family home.

  After a long few seconds of Mattie pondering Joey’s statement, she wrinkled her nose. Apparently, she didn’t like the idea of demolishing a house either.

  “Not that I know of,” she said. “Everything was intact
when I left. I closed it up myself.”

  Tim sat back, his big shoulders easing against the chair as he gnawed on his bottom lip. “Did your father give you any papers to hold?”

  “No. Nothing.” She paused. Opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Wait. I don’t know if this will help, but when Dad made me a partner, he gave me copies of the partnership agreement. He insisted everything be legal in case anything happened to him.”

  “When was that?”

  Mattie considered the question. “About two years ago. I don’t remember the exact date. I’d have to look.”

  “And when did he start working with Paul Landon?”

  Another pause. Lucie held her breath. That pause wasn’t just pregnant, it was three weeks overdue. And she didn’t need her master’s degree to tell her Mattie might have become a partner in her father’s company right around the time Landon showed up.

  “Oh, my God,” Mattie said.

  Tim sat straight again, tapped his finger on the chair’s arm. “Get me those papers.”

  “All I have are copies. They’re at my house. Dad still has the originals. I think they’re in a safe deposit box.”

  “That’s fine. Let’s get them. I’ll talk to my uncle and see if he wants to come with us.” Tim stood and faced the Rizzo crew. “I’ll be right back. Why don’t you all head to your place and relax?”

  “Good idea,” Lucie said. “Do you want me to go with them?”

  “No. If it’s all right with Mattie, I’d like you to review the paperwork.” He faced Mattie. “Lucie has an investment banking background. She’s also a hell of a business woman.”

  Aww, my man. So hot.

  Mattie nodded. “Of course. I’ll do anything.”

  “I’m hungry,” Joey said. “Let’s go eat.”

  “We just had lunch,” Ro said.

  “That was two hours ago. You want I should starve? We’ll go to the pool bar. Dad, Ma, let’s go. Happy hour.”

  “Ooh, good.” Mom held up her hands. “I like the rum punches that bartender makes.”

  “Enjoy,” Lucie said as they all filed out.

  With Tim outside with Henry and everyone else gone, Lucie turned to Mattie still sitting in the chair, her body slumped back.

  Deflated.