As a rule, Lucie had learned not to trust new people. Something her parents, due to Dad’s illicit activities, had jammed into her psyche from childhood. They never knew who might try to infiltrate Dad’s crime boss world. Paranoia ran high regarding federal agents and assassins alike. It wasn’t a good way to live, and her parents had cut her off from making new friends as a result.
Without question, Lucie knew her father’s protective instincts were meant to keep her safe. His life choices may have been a disaster, but when it came to intentionally bringing Lucie into his criminal world? Never.
Dad simply wouldn’t do it.
But Mattie’s father had, and Lucie couldn’t imagine how deep that betrayal cut.
She wandered over and rested one hip on the chair while slipping an arm over Mattie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry this is happening to you. My dad is…”
She stared at the front door her father just walked through. Complicated man. Maddening man. Focus, Luce. She had time to deal with her feelings about Dad later.
For now, she’d concentrate on Mattie. “I’m sure you’ve heard stories about him. He’s not perfect. I’ve spent years overcoming the mob princess label. As frustrated and angry as I was with him, I knew he’d never cross certain lines.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine the heartbreak of a father bringing his innocent daughter into criminal activity. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m madder at myself. How could I have been so stupid?”
“For trusting your father? How is that your fault? You were business partners. When you trust someone, your heart gets in the way. Don’t beat yourself up. Believe me, it won’t help. Let’s figure out how to get you out of this. Then you can worry about what your father did.”
The back door thumped and, a second later, Tim stepped into the living room, his all-serious cop face intact. Henry lagged behind, all sunken cheeks and misery.
Heartbreak all around today.
Tim smacked his hands together and the sharp clap charged the air. “Let’s go. Henry and Mattie can talk while Lucie and I read over the papers.”
Lucie’s hot Irish detective was in get-it-done mode. Fine. The quicker they figured this out, the quicker they could get back to a drama free vacation.
Tim and Lucie sat on Mattie’s patio, the late afternoon sun throwing shadows under the awning. Inside, Henry and Mattie discussed the state of their relationship. Lucie didn’t envy either of them. In one day, everything they knew had shattered. How did two people claw their way back from that?
She glanced at Tim as he unclasped a manila envelope Mattie had given him. As much as she loved him, could she move beyond a deception that intense?
Who knew? She certainly hoped to never find out.
“Incorporation papers,” Tim said, sliding the documents between them.
She scooted closer to him, so she could read. “Let me go through them one time.”
“Go ahead. Sorry to drag you into this. Not exactly the visit we wanted.”
Waving it off, she picked up the papers. “Henry is family. Once we get this squared away, we’ll go back to our vacation. Plus, I kinda feel sorry for them.”
“Yeah. My uncle is devastated. He loves her.” Tim jammed both palms into his eye sockets. “My mom will shit herself.”
“Maybe. But she’s not here, so let’s focus on what we can do now. Give me time to read this and we’ll come up with a plan.”
Minutes later, Mattie and Henry joined them at the patio table.
“I just read the paperwork,” Lucie said.
Henry still wore the drained, pale-faced look of a man in shock, but at least he’d hung around to offer support.
Poor man. The woman he loved was an imposter.
“Did you find anything?” Henry asked.
“Yes and no. Mattie, what was the name of your realty firm?”
“Island Management. Why?”
Lucie shuffled through the documents. “Okay. I see those here. But there’s another set of papers.” She handed the stack over. “Island Investments?”
Mattie shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Not the answer Lucie wanted—or expected. Yeesh. She shuffled through the pages, got to the Island Investments paperwork, and—pfft, pfft, pfft—shuffled some more to the end. She set a page in front of Mattie. “Your signature is on them. Dated the same day as the Island Management pages. Island Investments is a Wyoming LLC though.”
Tim gave her the cop face. “Wyoming? What’s that about?”
“It’s actually not uncommon. Wyoming is friendly to shell companies. The bankers in my old office called it the offshore of the American prairie. Laws there protect the privacy of business owners.”
“Meaning,” Tim said, “it’s a hot bed for millionaires hiding their money or potential criminal behavior.”
“It can be. Yes. Not everyone who forms a shell company is a criminal, though. Some might just want to protect their privacy, so they file in Wyoming.”
Mattie scanned the document then looked at Henry for a brief second before meeting Lucie’s gaze. Beyond the patio, a couple birds tweeted at each other. Lucie tore her gaze from Mattie’s, giving her a second to get her thoughts together.
Mattie, too, stared out at them. “They do that every afternoon. At first it annoyed me. Now it feels like home.” She blew air between her lips then held up the papers. “I have no idea what Island Investments is. My father brought me a stack and told me to sign them.”
Leaning in, Tim held his hand out and Mattie passed the pages over. He flipped through the stack, perusing each one. “When you signed, did you read the whole thing?”
“Yes. Every page. I don’t remember seeing the Island Investments agreement. Wait. Oh, he didn’t…”
She set the Island Management document on the table and stacked the Island Investments one on top, lining the signatures up one above the other. “Oh, my God. That son of a bitch. I can’t believe it.”
Whoa. “What?”
She jabbed her finger against the documents. “I shouldn’t admit this. I feel like a fool.”
“Don’t,” Tim said. “You’d be shocked at who gets swindled. I’m talking top businesspeople. It happens every day. Tell us what you’re thinking so we can help you.”
“My father and I had a system. If documents needed to be signed and one of us wasn’t available, we signed the other’s name.”
“You forged his signature.”
Mattie winced. “It sounds horrible, but yes. We only did it on routine stuff.”
Forgery was routine? Though with Lucie’s family history, definitely not her place to judge.
“You know,” Mattie circled one hand, “checks to pay bills or commissions. Things that kept our business running.”
Tim leaned in on his elbows. “You’re saying your father signed the Island Investments incorporation papers on your behalf?”
“No. He forged my signature.” She pointed on the Island Investments document. “See this swoop at the bottom of the N? It’s different than my actual signature. Close, but not as pronounced. That’s my father’s version.”
Tim took a minute to analyze the documents then sat back, his direct gaze locked on Mattie. “Your father formed a corporation without your knowledge.”
“It appears so.”
Wowie, wow, wow. And Lucie had issues with her Dad? Holy smokes, if Mattie’s father did that, what else had he done? Lucie waggled her fingers and Tim handed her the document. “The registered agent on this corporation is listed as Helen Craft. Who is she?”
Mattie blinked. “Registered agent?”
“Yes. When you form a company in a different state, there’s a third party responsible for handling paperwork. It’s usually tax forms, correspondence from the Secretary of State. Lawsuits. In this case, the registered agent is Helen Craft.”
“I don’t know her.”
Tim drummed his hand on the table. “We need to find her.”
In complete agreement, Lucie nodded. “D
uring my banking days, there was always talk about clients and shell companies. Shells made it easy for investors to move money around and avoid the IRS. Maybe Helen Craft is a registered agent for other corporations. If so, the good news is, Wyoming requires all agents to live within the state.”
Tim lifted one hip and dug his phone from the back pocket of his shorts. “Ladies, let’s find Helen Craft.”
While Tim busied himself making calls, Lucie borrowed Aphrodite for some neighborhood reconnaissance. She summoned Ro for protection—in case the kidnapper made a second attempt. In a normal world, one would use the pit bull. In Lucie’s? The better bet would be Ro.
Lucie stood on Mattie’s front lawn with Uncle Henry keeping watch from the porch. The Escalade golf cart rounded the corner, its engine’s whir rising with increased speed. Now in full view, Ro sat behind the wheel, her long sable hair blowing straight back as she hit the gas, one fist pounding the air.
Complete maniac.
Her BFF skidded to a stop at the curb, her lips wide with a toothy smile. She wore a tailored button-down blouse—that might come in handy—and a denim mini skirt with a pair of spiked-heeled strappy sandals that wrapped around her ankles. As usual, Ro put the va in va-va-voom.
“Oooh-wee!” She banged her palm against the steering wheel. “I love this thing, Luce. Wicked fun.”
“I see that. You need to be careful.”
Using both hands, Ro flipped her hair back. “Don’t be a downer.” She fixed her brown eyes on Aphrodite. “Why are you walking her? You’re on vacation.”
Ha. Some vacation so far. “I’m not. Well, I am, but it’s an undercover mission.”
Four, three, two, one.
Ro tipped her chin down and peered at Lucie like she did when she wore her sexy-librarian reading glasses. “Don’t tease me, Luce.”
Unlike the majority of Lucie’s inner circle, Ro was a sucker for Lucie’s investigations. She liked the adventure. In a twisted way, so did Lucie. Unfortunately, they hadn’t figured out how to flip the switch on their impulse controls and often wound up putting themselves in dangerous situations. They went all in. Every time.
Drove Tim nuts.
Oh.
Well.
Lucie laughed. “I’m not teasing you. Tim got a call from the cop who responded to my…uh…incident earlier.”
No sense in calling it what it was, since they both knew Lucie almost went to sleep with the fishes.
Ro gave her an oh-really look. “Sister, if you’re waiting for me to beg for details, forget it. Do tell.”
“The cops canvassed the neighborhood and found a witness who spotted the SUV screaming down the street. It had a car rental company’s logo on the corner of the windshield. Elite Rental by the airport.”
“A rental. Fascinating.”
Not really, but whatever. “There’s a satellite office five miles from here. Thought we’d swing by and see what’s what.”
“Ha! I knew there was a reason I wore a button-down. I swear I’m psychic.” She patted the seat beside her. “Hop in.”
When Lucie didn’t move, Ro made snoring noises.
“Sometime today, Luce, before Joey starts calling and asking questions. If we time this right, we’ll be back before he gets suspicious. Now get in.”
“I was thinking we could take a car.”
Ro waved that off. “This thing has speed. And Joey just filled the tank. We can go two hundred and fifty miles on six gallons. How crazy is that?”
Still not convinced it was a wise move, Lucie loaded Aphrodite into the rear then slid in beside her. Some things simply weren’t worth arguing over. Particularly with Ro.
“I’ll sit back here,” Lucie said. “The way you drive, no telling what might happen.”
“Hold on, sister.”
Vroom. She hit the gas, jerking Lucie’s head back far enough to slip a disc. Aphrodite though was all over it, tipping her snout up into the breeze. She barked once then again as Ro sped down the street.
Lucie wrapped an arm around Aphrodite and nudged her closer. “I’ve got you. I won’t let crazy driver lady hurt you.”
“Oh, blah, blah. Keep it up and I’ll take this next turn on two wheels.”
She’d do it too. Still, Lucie held on to the dog. Why take chances? “Anyway, the cop who called Tim wouldn’t give him the name of the renter.”
“You’re thinking we can get it out of them?”
“Yep. And, I won’t lie, I was somewhat relieved when I saw you in a button-down shirt.”
Ro laughed. Aside from being gorgeous, her knockers drew attention. Once she popped a button or two men dropped. Boom. Complete domination.
For years, Ro had been using her ample cleavage to score good seats at shows, extra discounts at retail stores, a free upsize at coffee shops, free oil changes. Whatever.
Joey didn’t like her using her rack as a negotiating tool, but as big and mean as he could be, Ro wasn’t afraid of him. When it came to her? He turned soft. The Joey version of soft anyway.
Ro hooked a left onto Paradise Way, the community’s main drag, and maneuvered to the far right lane. The golf cart lane. To their left, the square bustled with people shopping in the boutiques and home decor businesses that lined the next two blocks. Ro honked at a sidewalk cafe jammed with folks, sending a blast of O Sole Mio to the diners.
“Helloooo,” she called as they cruised by.
Lucie closed her eyes and prayed the ground might swallow her up. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes again.
Yep. Still here.
Minutes later, Ro made a right turn, honked at more pedestrians, one of whom jostled his coffee enough that it spurted onto his white shirt. The man waved a fist.
“Whoopsie.” Ro said. “Just trying to be friendly.”
“Maybe skip the honking. Why call any more attention to ourselves?”
“Be that way. Besides, we’re pulling onto a four lane road and I need to focus.”
“Just stay in the golf cart lane. Everyone will drive around you.”
They rode in blessed silence while cars whooshed around them. Oddly, Lucie didn’t mind cruising along in the cart. Uncle Henry’s car would have been faster, but the warm sun and cool breeze, after a harsh Chicago winter, knocked the edge from Lucie’s nerves.
Minutes later, Ro turned into a parking lot hosting a row of shiny cars. All high-end. Overhead, a large white sign with elegant lettering indicated they’d reached Elite Rentals.
“We made it alive,” Lucie said.
“Har, har, smartass.” Ro twisted around to face Lucie. “This is taking too long. Joey’ll start calling any time now. And I'm not dealing with that. How are we playing this?”
“Let’s go with Aphrodite first. We’ll see if they have a bowl, so we can give her water.”
“Luce, there’s about five hundred markets along this road. That’s the worst excuse ever.” Ro pointed at the leash in Lucie’s hand. “We’ll tell them we returned a vehicle, but her leash must be under the seat. And it’s her favorite.”
“How is that gonna get us a name?”
Ro threw her arms up as she slid from the seat. “I have no idea. All I know is your pain in the ass brother is about to start blowing up my phone and then I’ll have to kill him. Which, I don’t want to do. Your mom will never forgive me.” She turned back and grabbed her purse from the seat. “Let’s go in and see what we have. If we need to, we’ll slip someone a hundred bucks for giving us a name.”
Ew. That was so…slimy.
Ro stared at her, waiting for a comment. She wouldn’t get one. Right now, all Lucie wanted was to salvage this vacation. So if it took slime to get things on track, or Ro popping a few buttons, she was all for it.
Ready for the adventure, Aphrodite hopped out and followed Ro, who opened the building’s door. The hanging bells swung then crashed back against it, filling the quiet space with a loud brrrrnnnggg. Aphrodite leaped and swatted at the strap.
“Great,” Ro
muttered. “She thinks it’s a toy.”
“Off,” Lucie said, her voice an octave lower.
Aphrodite clamped onto the bells and tugged. So much for the I’m-in-charge voice.
Lucie bent low to pry them from Aphrodite’s jaws. Holy cow, she had a lock on them.
“Ma’am, no dogs allowed.”
Before turning her attention from Aphrodite, Lucie pasted a smile on and faced the middle-aged and extremely blonde woman behind the counter. Yikes, that yellow shade could light up a city.
“I’m…uh.” She tugged on the bells again. “Sorry. She thinks it’s a toy.”
“I see that. Please take her outside.”
As if Lucie wasn’t trying? Finally, she dropped to her knees to survey the situation. One bell in the mouth and the strap sticking out both sides. This could be a problem.
“We need a treat.”
Ro sighed. “Oh. My God. My work is seriously never done.” She set her purse on the chair next to Lucie and pulled a five from her wallet before facing the blonde. “I’m soooo sorry about this. Do you have a vending machine? Maybe I can get a treat there.”
The woman grimaced. “It’s an employee-only machine. You can’t go back there.”
Ro gave Lucie a look. “It seems we can’t do a lot of things around here. So much for customer service.”
“It’s regulation,” the woman said.
“All right. Well, we wouldn’t want to get you fired. How about I give you money and you can buy me pretzels? Anything but chocolate. Chocolate can kill a dog—and we definitely don’t want that happening in your fine establishment.” Ro batted her eyes. “Do we?”
The shift to bitch-mode came early in this mission.
The blonde harrumphed. If this woman knew Ro at all, she’d know antagonizing her might earn a butt-whupping. Just ask Tiffy Nelson. To this day Tiffy crossed to the other side of the street when she walked past Coco Barknell.
The guys down at Petey’s called it the Ro Effect.
Ro restrained herself but glared at the clerk. “Is there a manager here? Maybe they’ll be more accommodating.”
“Why do you need a manager?”
Ro smacked a bill on the counter. “We have a problem here. You want the dog gone and I’m trying to get us there. So either you’re going back there and getting me pretzels or I am. Got it? You know what? Forget it. I’ll call corporate and lodge a complaint.” She rummaged in her Gucci purse, dug her phone out, and tapped the screen. “I’ll just look up the number.”
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