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  Incognito

  The Lucie Rizzo Mystery Series

  Adrienne Giordano

  INCOGNITO

  A Lucie Rizzo Mystery, Book 7

  Mob princess Lucie Rizzo can't catch a break. Or take one. Building a business empire is hard work, even without her family's notoriety. Staying out of trouble isn't exactly her forte. Still, Lucie could use a vacation from Chicago winters and the town where everybody knows her father's name. So when a certain Irish cop promises warmer days-and hotter nights-Lucie sees an offer she can't refuse.

  Detective O'Hottie sweeps her away to the land of sun, sand, and…retirees? Before the real romantic getaway begins, Tim wants to visit his Uncle Henry. Or, to be exact, Tim's mom wants the goods on Henry's new girlfriend. Ha! Family drama without a Rizzo involved. What could a sweet, 50-something woman be hiding? Not a lot, judging by the amount of cleavage on display. Holy cannoli, Henry's Mattie could give Lucie's bombshell BFF a run for her money.

  It's more than just the skintight leopard print making Tim do a double take. The details don't add up. Mattie's not being completely honest-and Lucie smells a rat. Uncle Henry's gal pal isn't who she claims to be. But is Mattie playing a long con, or is she the victim? Either way, Lucie is getting caught in a dangerous game.

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  Published by ALG Publishing, LLC

  Contents

  The Lucie Rizzo Mystery Series

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  A Note to Readers

  The Lucie Rizzo Mystery Series

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  The Lucie Rizzo Mystery Series

  Dog Collar Crime

  Knocked Off

  Limbo (novella)

  Boosted

  Whacked

  Cooked

  Incognito

  Romantic suspense books available by Adrienne Giordano

  PRIVATE PROTECTOR SERIES

  Risking Trust

  Man Law

  A Just Deception

  Negotiating Point

  Relentless Pursuit

  Opposing Forces

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUES

  The Prosecutor

  The Defender

  The Marshal

  The Detective

  The Rebel

  JUSTIFIABLE CAUSE SERIES

  The Chase

  The Evasion

  The Capture

  CASINO FORTUNA SERIES

  Deadly Odds

  JUSTICE SERIES w/MISTY EVANS

  Stealing Justice

  Cheating Justice

  Holiday Justice

  Exposing Justice

  Undercover Justice

  Protecting Justice

  Missing Justice

  Defending Justice

  STEELE RIDGE SERIES w/KELSEY BROWNING

  & TRACEY DEVLYN

  Steele Ridge: The Beginning

  Going Hard (Kelsey Browning)

  Living Fast (Adrienne Giordano)

  Loving Deep (Tracey Devlyn)

  Breaking Free (Adrienne Giordano)

  Roaming Wild (Tracey Devlyn)

  Stripping Bare (Kelsey Browning)

  Enduring Love

  STEELE RIDGE: THE KINGSTONS

  Craving Heat (Adrienne Giordano)

  Tasting Fire (Kelsey Browning)

  Searing Need (Tracey Devlyn)

  Striking Edge (Coming Soon)

  Burning Ache (Coming Soon

  Incognito

  The Lucie Rizzo Mystery Series

  Adrienne Giordano

  One

  “Get out.”

  Lucie glanced up from the report she’d just shoved into her to-do folder. A very large one that sat on top of all the others she’d prepared for Roseanne.

  Across from her, Ro sat at her desk in the Coco Barknell headquarters, a long, red-tipped finger spearing the air. With the way she jabbed that finger, Lucie’s BFF meant business.

  Lucie set her hand on the stack of reports, to-do lists, and schedule changes. “Listen, smart mouth, by tomorrow morning you’ll be thanking me. This is everything you’ll need while I’m gone.”

  Rising from her chair, Ro cornered the desk, her three-pounds-lighter hips swinging as she double-timed it to Lucie. She held out a hand and pointed to the door with the other. “Give me those. And get out.”

  Lucie glanced at Tim—O’Hottie as Ro called him—her Chicago PD detective boyfriend of six months. In that time, Lucie had learned a lot about Tim O’Brien, and that tight-lipped, I’m-about-to-lose-my-shit look he’d pinned on her didn’t bode well for the start of their vacation. One that included visiting his favorite uncle near Palm Beach for a few days before going to the Keys. For weeks he’d been heading off any possible issues that would impede their trip.

  Now, with her stalling, O’Hottie might finally be hitting the upper boundary of his patience. With Tim, that was saying something. The man was destined for sainthood, no doubt.

  Still, she didn’t want to start their trip off with an argument. Not after they’d sprung for the mighty expensive first-class upgrade. “I’m almost ready,” she said.

  “Luce, please. Our flight is in ninety minutes. And it’s rush hour.”

  “Swear to God,” Ro said, “If you don’t get out, I’ll kill you where you stand.” She yanked Lucie’s hand from the stack of reports and shoved her, literally, to the door. “Go. We’re all adults. The business won’t collapse because you’re on vacation. And, you know, there’s this terrific invention called a telephone. If we need you, we’ll call.” She swung the office door open and did a little toodles wave. “Buh-bye now.”

  When Lucie didn’t move, Ro clasped her elbow and squeezed. Hard.

  “Ow. You don’t have to get nasty.”

  “Sister, you’ve worked your ass off building this company and finally have enough backup to take a well-deserved vacation. I promise you, we’ve got this. I’ll cover the phones and client calls. Joey will handle the dog-walking side. We’re all good. Please. Trust me.”

  Of course she did. They’d been friends since grammar school. If there was anyone she trusted with her business, it was Ro.

  But this wasn’t about that. This was about control and giving it up.

  They stopped at the door and Lucie turned back to Tim. The overhead light reflected off red hair that, in days, would slip to strawberry blond under the sun’s rays. With his fair skin, he’d need a gallon or twelve of sunscreen. He scooped up her suitcase and carry-on, his yummy muscles handling them with ease. “They’ve got it, Luce. They’ll call if they need you. Now, please get your cute little ass moving before we miss this flight. That’d definitely piss me off.”

  Everyone wanted her out. After everything she’d put into growing Coco Barknell, none of them could understand what it took to leave. Sure, Ro had been there from the beginning, helping Lucie expand her one dog-walking client to a pet care and handmade accessories company. Want an animal print vest for your poodle? Coco Barknell provided it. Plus sizes too.

  In the last year, they’d gone from Lucie running things on her own to employing three full-timers and two part-time dog walkers. And for the first time, Lucie was turning over the reins.

  A lot could happen in ten days. Total annihilation, for example.

  “Girlfriend,” Ro said, waving her hand to
encompass the room, “I know this is killing you, but I promise I’ll take care of everything. I’ve always got your back.”

  She looked back at Ro, who’d kicked the crap out of Tiffy Nelson in the third grade and showed that bully why she should never, ever pick on Lucie. Through twenty years of friendship they’d shared first loves, heartbreaks, and Lucie’s conflicted feelings about the notoriety that came with being mob boss Joe Rizzo’s kid.

  The mob princess.

  That was Lucie. Even her Notre Dame education couldn’t free her from that moniker.

  “It’s just…” Lucie spun back to Tim, who grunted at her. Lord, if she didn’t get moving, he’d lose it. This wasn’t fair. He worked insane hours, constantly receiving calls from his lieutenant and barely getting two full days off every week. Now he had ten and she was stressing him out. Lucie held both hands up. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.”

  Ro shoved her out the door. “Go. Before O’Hottie loses his Irish temper. As much fun as that would be, it’s a heck of a way to start a vacation. Besides, what could go wrong?”

  Oh, she didn’t just say that. Lucie whirled back.

  “Shit,” Tim said.

  Lucie flapped her arms and let out the mother of all sighs. “Let’s face it, things haven’t exactly been calm around here.”

  “I’m done.” He nudged her rear with her suitcase. “Move it. Before I wind up going alone. Roseanne, thank you. Even though I could strangle you right now.”

  “Eh,” Ro said, “story of my life. Get out.”

  The crowd at the baggage carousel had thinned to one lone airline employee lining up yet-to-be-claimed luggage. Lucie’s suitcase had gone the wrong direction. The way wrong direction.

  “It’s a sign,” she said as they left the customer service counter, claim ticket in hand.

  “It’s not a sign. It’s two hundred people on a plane with a ton of luggage. We were late and yours just didn’t make it. It happens.”

  That was her fault? Maybe she’d delayed them leaving the office, but she didn’t control Chicago traffic. “Yours made it.”

  He halted in front of the now motionless carousel and peered down at her, his green eyes gentle, as always. But she knew him. His mind was moving at warp speed, searching for a comeback. It took a solid ten seconds before he shook his head and a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “I can’t argue with you. Ever. You’re too damned cute.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “Don’t I know it.” He popped a light kiss on her mouth. “It’s one of the many things I love about you. Don’t worry. They said you’d have it by morning. We’ll buy a toothbrush and you can sleep in one of my T-shirts.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I always enjoy that.”

  “Timothy Aloysius!”

  Tim angled back to where a man wearing a Hawaiian-print shirt and khaki shorts waved. His full—and shocking—head of white hair against the deep brown skin on his trim build worked with the whole Florida vacation vibe. Despite the hair, from a distance he appeared to be in his late fifties. This had to be Tim’s Uncle Henry.

  And, hello? Tim’s middle name was Aloysius? She squeezed his hand, more than ready to capitalize on this surprise. “How did I not know that?”

  “I guess you’re still learning.”

  “I guess so. Sounds like a monk’s name. But we sure know you’re not one.”

  Not with his libido. He met her eye and a zing of heat sparked between them. Tim liked sex. A lot. In the two weeks leading up to this trip he’d offered suggestions regarding the frequency in which he’d like to have said sex. Which was pretty much constantly.

  The man worked hard. He deserved it. Lucie would—cough, cough—suffer through it.

  Tim brought his attention back to his uncle. “Hey, Uncle Henry.” He let go of his suitcase and they embraced in the manly, backslapping way that should’ve knocked loose a few organs.

  “My God.” Uncle Henry pulled back. “You gained weight. Look at you. You’re like a linebacker now.”

  Between Lucie’s mom shoving homemade desserts at him every time he stepped through the door and his brother’s restaurant, Tim’s once lanky frame had filled out in the past year. Twenty-five pounds worth that kept him on a relentless workout schedule to keep from turning doughy.

  “Vast amounts of good food do that.” Tim slid his arm over Lucie’s shoulder. “This one is part of the problem. Why didn’t anyone warn me not to fall in love with an Italian girl?”

  Aww, how sweet was that? Gosh, she knew how to pick a good man.

  She tipped her head sideways, leaning into Tim and not bothering to fight the happy grin lighting her up. “Hello, Mr. Brennan. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Lucie held her hand out, but Tim’s uncle swatted it away, opening his arms to her instead. “Forget that formal stuff. I come from a long line of huggers. And call me Henry. Or Uncle Henry. Whatever.”

  Henry’s arms came around her and crunched a rib or two on her 110-pound frame. A burst of air shot from her mouth. Holy smokes, her eyes may have popped out. For such a lean man, Uncle Henry packed some strength.

  “It’s good to finally meet you, Lucie. My nephew speaks highly of you.” He released her and pointed at Tim’s suitcase. “Is that everything?”

  “For now. Lucie’s bag wound up in North Dakota. They’ll deliver it tomorrow.”

  “Ach. I’m sorry. I have extra toothbrushes and soap at the house.”

  Henry led them to the parking lot and his Lexus. According to Tim’s mom, pre-retirement Uncle Henry worked for a once small airline that grew—and grew—over the twenty-seven years of his employment. From the start, he’d bought stock through a discounted employee purchase plan that allowed him to make a killing when the company went public.

  And gave him the means to retire at fifty-five.

  Thus, the home in Paradise City, a cushy, self-contained forty-five square mile community in Palm Beach County. Two hundred thousand folks over the age of fifty enjoyed, as the website said, an active lifestyle. Golf courses, beaches, restaurants, a square with retail shops and several top of the line gyms, plus, a clubhouse complete with commercial kitchen were just a few of the amenities. Lucie’s favorite was the transportation of choice. A golf cart.

  While the men loaded the luggage, Lucie climbed into the back seat. Tim had long legs and needed more room.

  “I see you still have the Lexus,” Tim said.

  “Sure. It’s ten years old and has thirty-thousand miles. Why sell it? Besides, I take the cart most places.”

  Lucie suddenly had a vision of Roseanne tooling around Franklin in a golf cart. For some odd reason, it fit.

  Uncle Henry paid the parking attendant and cruised through the gate. “Did you two eat? We can stop somewhere.”

  “We’re good,” Tim said. “We splurged on first class. It’s also nine-thirty. Way past your bedtime.”

  Uncle Henry laughed and something inside Lucie bloomed. Seeing Tim with his family, experiencing the fierce love they shared, did that to her.

  “I know, young man,” Henry said. “I had to drink an extra cup before leaving to pick you up. My Matilda makes great coffee.” Henry met Lucie’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Lucie, do you like coffee? My Matilda makes excellent coffee.”

  His Matilda. How cute was he?

  “Finally,” Tim said. “I’ll get to sample it. I’m damned tired of hearing how good it is.”

  Being a mainliner, Tim could be a harsh critic. Lucie? Coffee was coffee. She didn’t consider herself a connoisseur. She just needed a good hit of caffeine every now and again.

  Tim angled sideways, facing Henry. “Full disclosure. Mom gave me strict orders to check this woman out. She doesn’t want some ho getting her hooks into her little brother.”

  Oh, he did not just call his uncle’s girlfriend that. “Tim!”

  “What’s a ho?” Henry asked.

  Lucie burst out laughing. Poor Henry. Or maybe poor Tim since he was making a joke at his uncle’s exp
ense and it wound up a wasted effort. When Tim didn’t respond, Uncle Henry met Lucie’s gaze in the mirror again. “Lucie, what’s a ho?”

  “Well, sir, simply put, a slut.” Silence ensued. At least until both men snorted.

  “My sister,” Henry said. “She’s too much.”

  “She worries about you.”

  “I’m fifty-eight years old and I’m alone. Doesn’t she want me happy?”

  “Hell yeah, she does. But you know her. She’s protective.”

  With Tim’s mad protective instincts, that apple didn’t fall from the tree. According to Tim, Henry’s wife passed away two years earlier after a short stint with an aggressive cancer. They’d been married thirty-five years and the loss had devastated Henry. Which prompted the move to Florida for a fresh start. Now, Matilda had shown up, Henry was googly-eyed, and Tim’s mother didn’t trust it.

  Not for one second.

  Henry removed one hand from the steering wheel and poked a finger in the air. “She’s never met Mattie. Not even a phone conversation. How would she know anything about our relationship? She’s kind and beautiful. Everyone loves her. You’ll see. She cooks for me, makes sure I take my blood pressure pills, checks on me all day. She gives me a foot rub every night.”

  Tim swiveled back to Lucie. “Foot rub. Every night. You taking notes?”

  “Oh, I am,” she said. “That goes both ways, O’Hottie. If you’re getting one, so am I.”

  “Deal,” he said.

  “Deal.”

  And if she knew Tim at all, even an iota, she knew it'd come with plenty of innuendos and foreplay that would land them right in bed. Which might be great for Tim’s libido, but Lucie? She’d need a lot of naps if she intended on keeping up with the sexual marathon.