1 Dog Collar Crime Read Free

that.”
    “Eh,” Mr. Falcone said. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen siblings fight.”
    Frankie rolled his eyes as his parents headed back to the kitchen. “Nice, Pop.”
    “Dinner in ten minutes,” Mom said. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up?”
    An escape. Sainthood for Mom. Stat. “Good idea. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
    Mom started to turn, but stopped. “By the way, I spoke to your father today. He put you on the list for next week.”
    The list.
    “And if you don’t visit him,” Joey said. “He’s gonna fry you.”
    Frankie and Lucie both spun on him. “Shut up.”
    Mom, as usual, ignored Joey and leveled her gaze on Frankie. “You’re on the list, too.”
    “Uh-oh,” Frankie said.
    Lucie grinned. “Looks like he heard.”
    Joey laughed. “I didn’t tell him.”
    Probably true. Joey never seemed to care whether Frankie and Lucie were broken up. Frankie had been his friend all their lives and that would never change. That friendship sat at the root of why Lucie kept ending things with Frankie. He couldn’t tear himself away from the life she so desperately wanted to leave.
    The break-ups never lasted though. There was this pesky thing called love between them, and she could never completely let him go.
    Lucie brought her eyes back to her mother. “Does Dad know we broke up?”
    Her mother shrugged. “This falls into the what-he-doesn’t-know-won’t-hurt-him category. That category seems to be expanding rapidly.”
    No joke there. They’d been hiding a lot from her father since his incarceration almost two years ago. Despite living in a conservative home and not throwing money around on flashy cars and clothes, her father had long ago drawn the interest of federal prosecutors. They wanted Joe Rizzo, mob boss, but they couldn’t get any organized crime charges to hold and settled for a minor tax problem involving the three Italian beef restaurants he owned. Most people would have walked away with a fine, but not her father. The government wanted Joe Rizzo to pay for his sins. Whatever they were.
    Lucie shook off thoughts of explaining to her father why she wouldn’t marry Frankie, whom her father adored, mostly because Frankie’s father was her father’s closest friend. Thus, the reason the Falcones came for dinner twice a month even though her father was locked up. Lucie also suspected these family dinners meant her mother received an infusion of cash—her father’s cut of whatever nefariously raised money the mob guys came up with—from Mr. Falcone to help with expenses while her father was away. Talk about a tangled web.
    She walked to the stairs where she’d left her duffel. “I’ll deal with visiting Dad later. I need to get this stuff unpacked before it wrinkles.”
    Frankie sidled next to her. “I’ll take that up.”
    No. Last thing she needed was to be alone with Frankie. In her bedroom. “I’ve got it.”
    He leaned forward, wrapped his hand around hers on the handle of the bag and the heat from his palm seeped into her. Hoping he wouldn’t move, she stayed there for a second. With Frankie around, the speed of her world slowed and reminded her of summer strolls on the lakefront. The Frankie Factor.
    A crooked grin spread across his face. “I’ll take care of it.”
    No sense arguing with him. He’d just do it anyway. “Thank you.”
    She marched up the worn carpeted stairs, mentally groaning over the red and green floral wallpaper dating back to the eighties. She spied a streak of black that had become part of the décor twelve years ago when she had tumbled down the stairs with a permanent marker in her hand.
    A noise pulled Lucie from thoughts of adolescence, and she looked over her shoulder to find Frankie staring at her butt. What there was of it anyway. Too bad some of the flesh in her ginormous boobs couldn’t have landed on her rump.
    “Stop looking at my butt.”
    “Can’t help it. It’s in my line of sight.”
    The trademark