Two hours later, the Franklin PD had processed the scene and cleared out, leaving Lucie, Dad and Joey to sweep up the mess on the floor. All of it eating away at her carefully crafted schedule.
“Too bad there wasn’t any blood or something on this stuff,” Joey said. “At least then they’d have taken it as evidence and saved us a shit-ton of work.”
Her brother. Always keeping his priorities straight.
Lucie didn’t even have a snappy comeback. In one way, Joey had a point. The lack of blood or any other identifiable substance meant the crime scene guys simply photographed the scene, leaving the contents. Which meant, nothing about the mess would help them find the perp, as Tim liked to say.
Tim. She’d have to call him. Let him know about the break-in. Only, she couldn’t do it now. He’d come running over and the presence of her detective boyfriend would interfere with her meeting. A meeting he wouldn’t approve of. In his mind, bumping up the activity in her investigation meant opening herself up to danger.
Well, she’d risk it.
And Tim couldn’t know about it. Simple as that. She’d have her meeting and call him on her way downtown.
Joey scooped handfuls of fabric, dumping them in a trash bag as a fresh bout of anger seared Lucie’s midsection. Bastards. Whoever they were, she couldn’t let them get away with it.
“Baby girl, where do you want this?”
Dad stood beside the white board he and Joey had wheeled back to the shop. She pointed at Ro's desk. "Put it there."
Where she didn't have to look at Ro’s empty desk. Without Ro the place felt...vacant. Lonely. If Lucie was the brains behind the operation, Ro was the fearless muscle. No matter what the task, she always took it on.
And now Lucie couldn't imagine running the business without her.
Enter the whiteboard and her meeting.
"The Cock Heads will be here any time."
Joey waved Dad away and positioned the white board in front of Ro's desk. "You invited the Dick Heads?"
Lucie grunted. After the morning they’d had, he wanted to start? "I've told you a hundred times. Don't call them Dick Heads."
Dad dropped into one of the conference table chairs. "Ho, with the language." He pulled his phone out and stared at the screen as if an alien possessed it. "I hate this phone. Why can't I go back to the other one?"
"Because it's a flip phone," Joey said.
"And what?"
Lucie shook her head. "The Cock Heads are my friends. And Ro's. They wanted to help. They know a lot of people in this town. By the way, after this meeting, I need your help."
"What else is new?"
Always complaining about his growing role in the business, Joey had never once let her down. Secretly, she knew he liked spending time with the dogs.
"With Ro...unavailable, I need to pick up the slack. We have a dress rehearsal for the fashion show today. Which means, you have to do a couple of extra walks."
"Otis?"
"No. He's with me at the show. The swim trunks didn’t fit so we’re trying him in our new plus-sized line. "
"You know, I didn't want to say anything, but I think he resents that."
"Otis?"
"Yeah. He's not fat. He's beefy. Bulldogs are supposed to be beefy."
Beefy. Right. "Joey, I said the same thing, but, honestly, I'm not sure Otis really understands what plus-sized means."
"Believe me, he understands."
Lucie snorted. "You're a big mush."
The door opened and in walked Jimmy Two-Toes and Lemon, two of Dad's cronies from Petey's. The two of them were carbon copies of her father. Dress pants, dress shirt, no tie and perfectly groomed hair. Lemon may have been the shorter, lighter haired one of the bunch, but he refused to be outdone in the fashion department.
"Hey, Luce," Lemon said. "We're here for the meeting."
Lucie gave Joey the hairy eyeball.
"Hey," he said, "they were at Petey's and asked where the white board went."
Since when did mob guys get up so early?
At this point, if it meant getting Ro out of jail, all hands on deck. Plus, Jimmy and Lemon did have a lot of contacts.
"Thanks, guys," Lucie said. "Have a seat. There's coffee in the back if you want. I can't guarantee it's any good though. Ro is the coffee lady around here."
The two of them disappeared into the back room. Joey took a seat next to Dad and was immediately handed the alien phone. "I think I got a text. How do I know?"
"Do you know anyone who knows how to text?"
"Probably not."
"Then what are you worried about?"
"Good point."
The doggie bells on the door flew again. Cock Head Ben rushed through, holding the door open for Kristy and Annabelle.
"Sorry we're late," Annabelle said, gently removing her fedora so she wouldn't disturb the feathers.
Annabelle, aka the Cock Heads’ resident hostess with the mostest, always donned some sort of peacock headwear.
"No problem," Lucie said. "I appreciate you guys coming so early."
This was friendship. Two of the three of them were on their way to work, but they'd agreed to come to the meeting if it meant helping Ro.
As nutty as these people were, they loved Lucie—and Ro—and Lucie was proud to call them her friends.
Annabelle wrapped her in a tight hug and the usual scent of her cranberry lotion knocked Lucie's stress level down a notch. Finally, something normal. Even if it was only body lotion.
"I'm so sorry about Ro," Annabelle said. "We all are.”
“Thank you. But we’re going to prove her innocent. I know we are.”
Lucie waved everyone to the table. "Cock Heads, I think you know my brother, Joey, but this is my dad."
Hellos were exchanged along with that ever-present awe over meeting the notorious Joe Rizzo. What Lucie couldn't tell was whether it was good awe or bad awe. People either loved Dad or hated him. Not him, per se, but his lifestyle. In actuality, Dad was a nice guy. Always willing to help or give money to the homeless. He kept it quiet, but every morning he'd buy a dozen breakfast sandwiches and take them three blocks down to the old warehouse where a bunch of homeless guys slept.
Call it the dichotomy of Dad. Criminal who'd most likely done unspeakable things versus supporter of the homeless.
Jimmy and Lemon returned from their coffee run and more introductions were made. Lucie gave everyone a minute to assemble, then grabbed a marker from the little shelf on the white board.
Ben, a corporate lawyer, sat forward. "What about Ro? Update us."
"Nothing new aside from what I told you. They denied bail and now there’s a witness who saw Ro at the scene. It's just insanity."
"Alibi?"
"I'm working on that. The police confiscated her computer and most of her files, but I have a call into the buyer at Frampton's. Ro had a meeting with her right before Buzzy died. I'm hoping the buyer can provide the alibi. For all I know, the police have already talked to her, so I'm not sure."
Ben made a humming noise. "Well, they went after Ro for a reason."
Yes, they did. Lucie nodded. "Twitter smack down with Buzzy."
"Oh, no," Annabelle said. "That social media is a snake pit."
Ben, suddenly the Cock Head's version of Perry Mason, circled one hand. "Tell me about this smack down. Why were they fighting?"
"Buzzy, God rest her soul, stole a few of Ro's designs. The ones for the fashion show."
Kristy gasped. "Not the ones you showed us last week."
"Yep. She's already selling them on her website."
"I hope you're suing her ass," Jimmy said.
"God rest her soul," Annabelle said.
"I’m trying to work it out before it gets to that. My lawyer is working on it."
At the end of the table Kristy, a shy, recent college grad raised her hand. "I heard that Buzzy is—was—a real…um…”
Joey rolled his eyes. “Let me help you. She was a real bitch.”
The room erupted into a series of gasps and “God rest her souls.” Lucie sighed. "Everyone, please, pipe down. I want to hear this.”
"I don't know specifics, but a couple of months ago there was something on the news about Buzzy firing her agent."
"I spoke to Lorraine yesterday—she's Buzzy's sister—and she told me the agent wasn’t in the picture anymore. But it’s a lead."
Lucie turned to the white board and jotted AGENT before turning back to her crack team.
"Okay, gang. I visited Roseanne last night. She's doing okay, but we need to get organized here. With the witness coming forward, things are moving fast and I'm not sure the police are still looking for the real killer."
"Where's Tim?" Dad wanted to know.
"No Tim," Lucie said.
She hated keeping secrets from him. As much as he told her to stay out of it, he knew better. She couldn't let a loved one rot in jail.
Well, not if they were innocent.
That didn't mean dragging Tim into this though. He'd helped her last night, but that was his idea.
"He should be here," Dad said. "He can help."
Lucie let out a sigh. "No Tim. If there's something I think he can help with, I'll ask him. Otherwise, we're doing this our way." Before he could argue, she turned to the Cock Heads. "Here's what we know so far. This witness is legit."
Annabelle’s mouth flopped open and Lucie shot her hand up. "Don't freak. Ro did go to Buzzy's house. She knocked on the door and rang the bell, but no one answered. She never went inside. She left and ran into one of the neighbors on the sidewalk. That's it."
"What time was this?"
Lucie turned back to the whiteboard. "About 4:30." She drew a front door and added 4:30 PM under it. "She got to my mom's around 6:00." She added that to her timeline. "Either Buzzy was already dead at 4:30 or—"
Annabelle gasped. What was with the gasping?
"Or," Lucie continued, "the killer was inside with her."
"Oh, no," Kristy said.
"Yeah. Terrible thought. I could be wrong."
"The timing fits," Joey said. "Let's go with that theory. Besides the agent, who are we looking at suspect-wise?"
Kristy raised her hand and Lucie waved her marker at her. "You don't have to raise your hand."
"Okay. Thank you. If Buzzy wasn’t a nice person, it could be anyone. Has she stolen other ideas? Or maybe someone who worked for her?”
Dad waggled two fingers. "Put me and Jimmy and Lemon on that board. We'll talk to a couple of cops. See who they're looking at."
Okay. Now they were cooking.
Lucie added her name to the board. "I'll come up with some reason to talk to Buzzy's sister again. And," she spun back to Joey. "Since I'll have the Ninja Bitches with me after the fashion show dress rehearsal, I'll swing by Buzzy's neighborhood and walk the dogs. Maybe I'll see something."
"They won't let you in," Dad said. "They still have the street barricaded."
"Yes, but if I'm a neighbor, they have to let me in."
He rolled his bottom lip out. "How are you gonna pull that off?"
"I have no idea."
Ninja Bitches in tow, Lucie nabbed a parking space three blocks over from Buzzy's, grabbed her tote bag off the passenger seat floor, and pulled out her blond wig and floppy winter hat.
Frankie had always had a thing for that wig. At first, he'd hated it because, at that time, she'd been forced to fend off dogjackers by going incognito. After that? It was all twisted stripper fantasies. She laughed at the memory. Sometimes she simply needed a kindred spirit to commiserate with. By virtue of his biology, Frankie understood the insanity of being a mob kid. The life. He knew all about the mix of emotions. Anger, embarrassment, fear, how all of it coiled together and made her mind race.
In the backseat, Fannie, one half of the adorable and fearless Shih-Tzu duo, let out a happy yip. Josie and Fannie lived in a ritzy neighborhood, so they'd feel right at home with the aroma of oodles of money. They both still wore the trench coats and belts Lucie had put them in for the fashion show rehearsal. She might as well road test the coats to see if they'd actually be usable or if they were simply doggie haute couture.
Two birds. One stone. That was Lucie.
She slipped her wig and hat on, brushed out the ends and called it a done deal. Then she pointed a finger between Josie and Fannie.
"Now look, I'm sorry to drag you girls into this, but I need props and you're two of the cutest darned props going. If we get caught, it's on me. Don't feel bad. Okay?"
The two of them looked at each other and—wait—did Josie's shoulder just twitch?
A Ninja Bitch shrug.
Lucie wouldn't have been surprised. These dogs really did think they were human.
Lucie hopped out and opened the back door. She'd strapped the girls into their car harnesses and took the opportunity to snap the leash on Fannie. She didn't need one of them busting loose and getting lost.
"Okay, girls, let's do this. Lucie and the bitches ride again."
The girls jumped from the backseat and immediately rushed to a giant oak tree, where they both let out a stream of urine that could sink a destroyer.
How did such little dogs hold that much?
The girls finished their business and Lucie led them one block south toward Buzzy's. These streets, with their elegant brownstones and squeaky-clean sidewalks, could have been interchangeable. The homes all held their own appeal, but most had been refaced, if not torn down altogether and rebuilt, so the newness, although beautiful, robbed the old-world comfort from the area.
But, she wasn't shopping for a house. No sir. If her plan worked, she'd be a resident. Heh, heh, heh.
She cut down the block that backed up to Buzzy's and counted down the number of houses. At the third home—no gate, yay—phase one of Lucie's plan took hold.
"Okay, girls, look natural. Pretend we belong here."
The girls paused, looked up at her then at each other, and scampered off to another tree. The detour gave Lucie ample opportunity to scope out the alley beside the home. These dogs. Perfect accomplices.
Josie chose that moment to poop. On a normal day, Lucie would be thrilled. Right now? Not so much. She whipped out a poop bag, but waited a few seconds. Usually, when one pooped the other followed. Lucie swore it was some sort of competitive thing between them.
And...yep, as soon as Josie stepped away from her mess, Fannie squared up.
If nothing else, these trench coats were getting the full workup today. Both dogs had peed and pooped and, so far, not a stain to be seen. Excellent craftsmanship from the Coco Barknell team.
Lucie dealt with the dueling poop explosion and tied the baggie around the leash to keep her hands free until they found a garbage can. She casually scanned the area, found it blissfully quiet and took a breath.
"Here we go, girls."
She led the dogs down the alley separating the second and third houses. If her plan worked, she'd cut across the yards that backed up to each other and come out on the next block.
When at Buzzy's the prior week, after circling the block, she'd noticed a realtor's sign on the home behind Buzzy’s. The house still had the outside lights on. In the middle of the day. No one inside? Couldn't count on that. Mom forgot to turn their porch light off on a regular basis.
Still, as she cruised through the yard she glanced back and found the curtain raised on the French door. Bare kitchen. The owners had already moved out.
Even better.
Fannie, bless her alpha soul, led the charge through the alley and Lucie let her go. Now wasn't the time to correct her bad leash behaviors.
Just ahead, the mouth of the dark alley separating Buzzy's home from the neighbor's—Lorraine's house, thankfully, was the one on the other side—opened to streaming sunlight. The girls picked up their pace, itching to explore more trees.
The girls burst out of the alley, their little legs carrying them along as their nails tap, tap, tapped against the cement.
"Okay, girls, slow down."
Just as Lucie cleared the alley, someone yelled.
Dang it. Not even to the sidewalk yet.
"Hey, lady!"
She glanced over. A uniformed cop stood at the corner behind a barricade. Refusing to leave his post, he waved her over.
Not a big deal. She'd expected some variation of this. Just not so soon.
"Good morning, officer."
"Yeah, good morning. What are you doing?"
Lucie drew her eyebrows together, feigning confusion. "Um, I'm walking my dogs."
"Not here you're not. We need to keep this block clear."
"But," she pointed behind her, "the house behind this one is mine. Well, it's not mine yet. We close tomorrow. I'm just so excited and I wanted to give the girls a tour of their new neighborhood. Say hello girls."
The girls plopped their butts down and growled. And they wondered why the crazy neighbor saddled them with the Ninja Bitches moniker?
The cop stepped back.
"Oh, just ignore them. They're protective. Anyway, I thought I'd show them the area and see if I could meet some of the neighbors."
"It's not a good time for that. We got all kinds of nutcases out here."
"Hey," another officer yelled from the opposite side of the street.
Obviously curious, he wandered to the middle of the block. Something about him was familiar. The big shouldered, linebacker build.
Uh-oh.
Lucie dipped her head, hoping the floppy hat would hide her face.
"What's up?" the bigger cop said as he approached.
"I just found her walking her dogs. She says she owns the house behind this one."
Still with her head down, she slid a sideways glance at the second cop. Crud. The officer coming toward her was the seriously cute Lindstrom who'd helped when her dogs kept getting dogjacked last spring.
Given she hadn't seen or spoken to him in months, he might not remember her. The blond wig wouldn't hurt her chances.
Fannie let out another growl and Lucie took the opportunity to squat down, her back to Lindstrom. Please, go away.
"Lucie? Is that you? What's with the wig?"
Roll with it. As usual, her only luck was bad. But, heck, she'd been in worse predicaments than this. She stood, faced Lindstrom, and blinked a couple of times. Feigning surprise couldn't hurt.
She whipped off a big-butt smile. "Officer Lindstrom, how nice to see you."
The first cop did that bottom lip roll again. "You know each other?"
"Sort of," Lindstrom said. "I helped Ms. Rizzo on a case."
"Rizzo?"
"Yeah," Lindstrom said, "that Rizzo."
"Whoa. She said she just bought this house."
Lindstrom eyed her and Lucie played dumb, allowing the girls to pull her to the tree in front of Buzzy's house.
Lindstrom waggled his thumb at the first cop. "I got this."
The other cop marched back to his post. Lindstrom, feet planted, crossed his arms and stared at her with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Why do I think you didn't just buy this house?"
"I can explain."
"This should be good."
"Hey. That's not nice."
Lindstrom laughed. "On the contrary. I'm preparing for the entertainment. In my dealings with you so far, you've given me great stories to tell."
He had her there.
Then he sobered, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. "Is this about your friend who got locked up?"
Lucie nodded. "It's not what you think though. I'm not trying to sneak into Buzzy's."
"Thank you, sweet Jesus. You were partners or something with her, right?"
"Yes." Lucie pointed at the trench coats. "A line of doggie clothes."
Lindstrom nodded his appreciation. "Nice. I like the belt."
"I know, right? Anyway, I thought maybe I could talk with some of the neighbors. Roseanne didn't kill her. I know it."
Lindstrom sighed. "Lucie, come on. You're killing me here. This is an active investigation."
"It's a public street."
"Which is currently barricaded."
"Not to residents."
"You can't knock on doors. No way."
Hmmm. Lindstrom was being a hardnose. Her history working for one of the city's top investment bankers had taught her a few things. The fine art of negotiation was one of them. Right now, she had to strike a deal with Lindstrom.
"But," she said, "I can walk along the sidewalk. The sidewalk is public."
"And?"
"And what? If I stay on the sidewalk, I'm not bothering anyone. Please. Just let me walk the dogs down this block and back up the other side. Then, I'll leave." She held a hand up. "I swear."
"No."
Last time she'd talked with Lindstrom, he'd been so accommodating. Now? Total roadblock. Time to pull out the big guns. "You know," she said, "there's a ton of press around here. My father came with me to Buzzy's the other day and, holy moly, that was a mess. He about caused a riot."
"Lucie?"
"Yes?"
"Are you threatening to unleash Joe Rizzo, media whore, on me?"
Her? Would she do that?
In a New York minute. She offered up a toothy smile. "Wouldn't it be so much easier if you just let me walk the block? I promise, after that, I'll leave."
The corner of his mouth quirked. "Or I could lock you up for trespassing."
"The media would love that."
Now he flat-out laughed. "Damn you."
"I'm sorry."
"No you're not."
His shoulders drooped and the itch of success bloomed inside Lucie. She might not have Ro's boobs to sway a man, but she knew how to make things happen without popping a button.
Again, she smiled. "I promise. One spin up and down the block and I'm gone."
He gazed up the street for a few long seconds, then turned the other way before coming back to her. "Go. Don't dawdle. Chances are, no one will leave their house."
"You could be right." She hoped not.
"One lap and you'll leave? I have your word?"
"Yes, sir. I promise."
Except if one of the neighbors comes out.
Lindstrom walked back to the police barricade, but kept a hard eye on her while she strolled from tree to tree.
"Okay, Bitches," Lucie said to the girls. "You need to stall. Stop at every tree if you have to. Got it?"
Fannie looked up at her then went back to sniffing the ground. Way to help a girl out, sister.
Lucie's phone rang. A 312 number. Who could this be? She poked the screen. "Hello?"
"It's Lindstrom."
Lucie whipped back and he gave her a too-doo-loo wave. He'd saved her contact info from last spring?
"I know what you're doing," he said. "Quit screwing around and get out of here."
"You said one lap. I didn't realize there was a time limit."
"I didn't realize it would be a three-day lap."
A small delivery truck—one of those organic grocery services— whooshed to a stop at the curb.
This could be a lead.
"Gotta go." She hung up on Lindstrom.
The driver, a young guy about Lucie's age, wore a uniform of bright green pants, a white button down, and a green and white captain's hat. Poor guy. With that uniform, his company should get sued for employee abuse.
He opened the truck's back doors, grabbed two large sacks, and swung the doors closed again.
"Hi," Lucie said.
He stopped midstride. "Uh, hi."
"Making a delivery?"
"Yeah. Cute dogs."
Little did he know these cute girls could take his leg off. "Thanks. This is Josie and Fannie."
Fannie plopped her butt on the ground and Josie flipped to her back. Unable to resist, Lucie squatted and gave her a rub while the guy hustled to the house to make his delivery. No sense holding up someone's food order. When he returned? She'd pump him for intel.
She wandered to the tree next to his truck and the girls obliged by giving it a squirt.
A minute later, the driver jogged down the path. "So," Lucie said, "I'm new in the neighborhood. Do you have any brochures on your service?"
"Sure."
He snatched a brochure from his back pocket. How good was this guy carrying brochures in his pocket? Lucie should hire him to help with Coco Barknell marketing.
"We're an independent company." He pointed to the service's logo. "All the products are hand-picked by the owners. Their kids all have gluten or nut allergies."
"Oh, wow."
"Yeah. That's what’s good about this. You order everything online and have it delivered. Especially if you have small kids. No dragging them out to the store and dealing with the insane parking around here. Do you live on the block?"
"Not yet. We'll be moving in soon. You're the regular driver?"
The kid nodded. "I handle the city."
No easy task. Being a dog walker and having experienced the challenge of getting from location to location, Lucie sympathized. She'd finally bought a couple of scooters for the staff to use.
He pointed to the house he'd just made a delivery to. "The Eppersons are regulars. I'd do the Eppersons and Ms. Sneider at the same time. It's weird to be here and not have a delivery for her."
"It's scary that something like this could happen in such a nice neighborhood."
"Just goes to show you. No one is safe."
There was a fatalist attitude. "I suppose," Lucie said.
"I have to say, I was surprised it was a woman who got arrested."
Do tell. "Really? Why?"
The guy shrugged. "I don't know. There was always this guy here when I delivered her orders. Since it happened in her house, I figured it was him that did it."
What guy? Buzzy wasn't married and, although Lucie wasn't exactly in-the-know about Buzzy's love life, the woman had never mentioned a significant other.
"Was he her boyfriend?"
The delivery guy shrugged. "He answered the door in a robe one morning."
A boyfriend. She'd need to research this. Maybe call Reece and see if Buzzy had a current love interest. Even if it was a causal relationship, the man needed to be investigated.
"Hey!"
Whoopsie. Lucie swung around and found the cop from the other end of the street bearing down on them.
"I gotta go," the driver said. "My boss will kill me if these cops shut me down."
"Go," Lucie said. "I don't want to get you in trouble."
"Thanks. And try us out. First order has free delivery."
She totally needed to hire this guy.
She held up the brochure. "Thanks. I'll give it a look."
Right along with the bathrobe-wearing mystery man.