Free Dog Collar Couture by Adrienne Giordano

Anyways, last I heard, Ms. Rizzo didn’t give us much.”
    â€œShe didn’t see anything. She did find the feather on the sidewalk.”
    â€œYeah, I heard. Bickel is processing it.” Lou sat back again, drummed his fingers on the armrests of his chair. He relaxed his head back, casting his gaze up. “If we clear her, there’s no conflict. If you get any calls or leads, turn them over to Bickel. Let’s keep this clean until we confirm her story.”
    Crap. Not exactly what Tim wanted to hear. He needed off this case. There’d been plenty of cases he didn’t like, cases that drove him nearly insane with crazy witnesses, unruly defendants, filthy, unlivable crime scenes. All of it he’d dealt with and never, not once, asked to be taken off a case.
    Now? Being stuck between Lucie and his job, he wanted out.
    Lou brought his attention back to him. “Unless you got some reason I should feel otherwise?”
    Suck this up. “Yes, sir.”
    â€œAnd, O’Brien, I don’t think I need to tell you to be sure you know what you’re doing with this girl.”
    And . . . come again? Tim shook his head. Did he just . . . yeah . . . sure did. Plenty of four-letter responses came to mind. Plenty. But, reversing the roles, if Tim were the superior officer and one of his detectives marched into his office announcing he was dating a notorious mobster’s daughter, Tim probably would have issued the same warning.
    Hell, Tim had issued that warning to himself a few thousand times.
    But he had more than a minor itch for Lucie. And when had scratching ever helped?
    â€œUnderstood, sir.”
    â€œGood. Get on the reports from this morning. I’ll let you know if anything comes up on this dress.”
    Tim left the office, grabbed his cell phone from his desk and headed outside for privacy. With that nastiness done, he could talk to Lucie with a clear conscience. He just wouldn’t be able to discuss the case.
    â€œHi,” she said.
    He hopped down the back steps and strode to the edge of the building, away from any potential eavesdroppers. Call him paranoid. So what? “Hi. How’s it going?”
    â€œUm . . .”
    â€œDon’t answer that. I just talked to my lieutenant about getting pulled off this case.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œNo dice. For now, any evidence or info that comes my way, I have to shuttle to Bickel. I need to stay out of it.”
    â€œOkay. I understand. I hate that I put you in this position. I’m so sorry.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
    â€œI guess. Anyway, the owner’s insurance company hired an investigator. He came to see me around lunchtime.”
    Not a shocking development. High-value items always warranted an investigation. The fact that they were moving this fast though? That was . . . interesting. “They didn’t waste any time.”
    â€œThe dress is worth millions. Can you blame them?”
    â€œJust so you know, that’s standard procedure.”
    â€œWell, he made it fairly clear that I’m a suspect.”
    Tim bit down. He should say something. Anything. Natural instinct was to reassure her. But he couldn’t. For both their sakes, he needed to follow his lieutenant’s orders. The local press was all over this story. Before long, the entertainment rags would get in on the action. And what was juicier than a missing Maxmillian dress?
    Ha. How about a detective involved with a suspect who was also Joe Rizzo’s daughter.
    Television movie if he’d ever heard of one. And he didn’t even watch them. His sisters? They loved ’em.
    â€œThese things have a natural order,” he said. “Be patient.”
    Lame response. Piss poor. He squeezed his eyes shut, banged his open hand against his head. Impossible situation.
    â€œI know. I’ve decided to talk to my family tonight. Sort of a family