Getting Rid Of Bradley

Chapter Nine

Zack’s doubts had begun the moment he’d walked out Lucy’s door, and Anthony hadn’t helped any at all with his needling. He knew he’d had a good reason for walking. His feelings for Lucy were screwing up his Me. But she was also the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was growing increasingly more miserable without her every moment. He’d been dumb. So had she. They were both dumb, but they’d never have any dumb children now because he’d walked out instead of staying to fight.

Or talk.

He’d been at his apartment for several hours, staring at four empty walls and a moth-eaten couch, wondering why he’d never fixed the place up better and kicking himself for leaving a place that was perfect, when the phone rang. If it was Anthony trying to make him feel guilty again, he was going to pay.

Zack picked up the phone and snarled, “What?” into it.

“There’s something wrong with my bed,” Lucy said.

“Lucy?”

“There’s something wrong with my bed. I know it’s stupid, but I’m scared.”

Zack sat down on the couch, his heart hammering. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I don’t know. I was going to bed but it just didn’t seem right. And then Heisenberg tried to jump on it, and I hit him.”

Zack’s hand tightened on the receiver. “You hit a dog?”

“I know. I feel terrible. My hand just shot out… I don’t know.”

“Instinct,” Zack said. “You stay away from that bed. I’ll be right over.”

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Lucy followed Zack up the stairs, still clutching Heisenberg. The relief she’d felt on seeing him had been overwhelming, and for the first time she really began to doubt that there was something wrong in the bedroom. Maybe she’d just done this to get back upstairs with him.

Would she hit a dog to get great sex?

Of course not.

Not if she was in her right mind.

Maybe Zack had made her insane.

If anybody could do it, he could.

Zack stopped at the bedroom door, and Lucy almost bumped into him. “Stand here in the doorway,” he said. “Now what’s wrong?”

She peered in through the doorway and looked around the room. “Nothing. I’m sorry. There’s nothing.”

Zack shook his head. “No. If you hit Heisenberg, there’s something. Take your time. What is it?”

Lucy surveyed the room again. Nothing. It was exactly as she’d left it. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing.” Then her eyes went back to the bed, and she frowned.

“What?” Zack said. “It’s the bed, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It looks the same. It’s just…” She stopped and then she shook her head. “Forget it.”

Zack turned to the phone on the hall landing table. “I’m calling the bomb squad.”

“No!” Lucy stepped between him and the phone. “Riverbend PJD already thinks I’m a flake. You are not calling the bomb squad because I’ve got a funny feeling about my bed.”

Zack jabbed a finger at her. “Hey, don’t knock funny feelings. They’ve saved my life more times than…”

“Yours, not mine,” Lucy said.

“Yours once,” Zack reminded her. “But okay. We’ll compromise.”

“You? Compromise? I don’t believe it.”

“Get a safety pin and a ball of string. And put the dogs in the kitchen.” Zack stepped cautiously into the bedroom. “You sure you don’t know what bothers you in here?”

“Zack, get out of there,” Lucy said with an edge of panic in her voice.

He looked back, interested. “That’s a good healthy instinct you’ve got there, lady. Go get the stuff.”

TEN MINUTES LATER, the dogs were shut in the kitchen, and the end of the string was safety-pinned to a corner of Lucy’s quilt.

“Everything okay downstairs?” Zack asked Lucy when he met her outside her bedroom.

“Yes. Except I hope you didn’t tell Anthony to call. Einstein knocked over the phone again. That’s the second time tonight.”

“Forget the phone.” Zack took a deep breath. “Here’s the deal. Chances are, if it’s a bomb, it needs some kind of pressure to set it off. Like you getting into bed, for example. So, if we pull the quilt off, we should be able to see if there’s anything wrong with bedding underneath. That quilt is so lumpy they could hide damn near anything under there, but the sheets are flat, if there is something there, we call the bomb squad. You with me?”

Lucy nodded. “I’m going to feel really stupid when there’s nothing under that quilt.”

“You’d feel even stupider if you got into bed and there was.” Zack went cold at the thought. “Thank you for calling me.”

“Thank you for coming over,” Lucy said. “I’m scared.”

“Good. Stay scared.” Zack looked at the bed again and then closed the door part way as a shield. “Stay behind me.”

When she moved back, he pulled firmly on the quilt and yanked it off the bed.

The bed blew up before the quilt hit the floor.

Dust whooshed out the partly opened door, and Lucy sat down on the floor, her legs suddenly giving out from under her.

“So much for the it-won’t-explode-without-pressure theory.” Zack slammed the door. “Call 911. Where’s your fire extinguisher?”

The phone rang.

“The closet” Lucy pointed at the next door and then ran to call the fire department.

THE PHONE RANG AGAIN as she got downstairs, and she grabbed it to tell whoever it was to get off the line so she could call for help.

“Get out of the house,” a voice rasped on the other end. “There’s a bomb.”

“What?” she whispered.

“Get out of the house now. There’s a bomb. It’s going to go off. Get out.”

“It already did.” Lucy’s voice returned with her anger. “You creep, it already did. Who are you?”

But the caller had already hung up.

Lucy yelled for Zack as she dialed 911.

THE FIRE DEPARTMENT left when all the random embers in the bed were dead. The bomb squad left after a detailed search of the house for other explosives, making several pointed remarks to Zack about amateurs messing with things they didn’t understand. Most of them stopped to say goodbye to Lucy on their way out, having met her when her car had exploded. It was almost a party.

And Anthony came by to see the mess for himself.

“Well, this is interesting,” he said, looking at the wreckage of Lucy’s bed, and Zack said, “More than you think. Lucy got a phone call warning her about the bomb. After it went off.”

Anthony leaned in the doorway, considering. “He was cutting it awfully fine. The bomb went at around eleven-thirty. A lot of people are in bed by eleven-thirty.” He looked at Zack. “He could have killed her.”

Zack leaned on the doorframe opposite him and shook his head. “That was Einstein’s fault. He knocked the phone off the hook. The guy had probably been calling in a cold sweat for hours.”

“What are you talking about?” Lucy said.

“This is the same deal as the car bomb,” Zack said to her. “Nobody’s trying to kill you. The bomb squad said this one was more like a big firecracker. A big firecracker with a hair trigger, but still. It wasn’t meant to hurt you. There’s no point in warning you if he wanted to kill you.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped. “But I could have died!” she said finally. “I almost got into that bed! I don’t care if it was a firecracker. Firecrackers kill people. That was a real explosion in my bed!”

“Well, if there was a fake one, his plan wouldn’t work,” Anthony pointed out. “He’s still trying to scare you out of the house, Luce. The first bomb should have been enough. Remember? We tried to get you to go to a hotel, but you wouldn’t go.”

“So he had to really scare you out this time,” Zack said. “Only the son of a bitch almost killed you. I really hate Bradley. He’s dumb and he’s dangerous.”

“You think Bradley’s doing this?” Lucy shook her head. “No. He knows if he just calls and asks, I’ll give him his stuff back. Everything he owns that he left here is in those three boxes. And he can get in any time he asks. Bradley is not doing this.”

“It’s not in those boxes,” Anthony said. “I’ve been through them. Zack’s been through them.”

“Wait a minute,” Lucy said, ignoring him. “This really makes no sense. He had to get in here to plant the bomb, right?”

“Right,” Zack said. “Which door did you leave unlocked this afternoon?”

“None of them,” Lucy said, outraged. “But that’s not the point. If he broke in here to plant the bomb, why didn’t he just take what he wanted then?”

“Because he doesn’t know where it is,” Zack said. “It’s lost somewhere in here.”

“Oh, come on,” Lucy said. “We’ve been searching this place for days. What could we have missed?”

“I know what I’d like to find,” Anthony said.

“The safe-deposit box key,” Zack said, nodding, and turned back to Lucy. “If the bonds are in a box, and the key is here, John Bradley can’t leave town. He’s shot Bianca, the Bergmans are on their way, looking for blood…”

“Actually, they’re here,” Anthony said.

“…and he can’t get out of town until he gets those bonds.”

Lucy frowned at him. “What safe-deposit box? We didn’t have a safe-deposit box.”

“We deduced a safe-deposit box,” Zack said. “Just like in the movies.”

“The only thing that John Bradley wants to do is get out of town,” Anthony told her. “And the only thing that would stop him would be if he didn’t have the bonds.”

“And the only reason he wouldn’t have them would be if somebody stole them, or he gave them to somebody for safekeeping,” Zack said.

“Bradley,” Lucy said. “He’d never steal, but the safe-deposit box sounds like him. He’s very careful.”

“But he doesn’t have a box at Gamble Hills,” Anthony said. “Now if we had a key, we could find the bank, and get a warrant, and open the box…”

“Bradley doesn’t have a key chain,” Lucy said. “He said it spoiled the line of his suit when he put a chain with a lot of keys on it in his pocket. He uses key fobs, one for each key. And then he keeps them in different pockets. He’s very organized.”

Anthony looked at Zack. “He lost the key. Here. Someplace here.”

“Listen,” Zack said. “Trust me. I’ve looked. I took up the couch cushions, I…”

“His chair,” Lucy said.

“What?”

“His chair. If he sat in his chair, the key could have fallen out of his back pocket and into the chair. It slopes. The back of the seat is lower than the front. Every time I sit in it, my knees are up high and I have to lean forward.”

“I remember,” Zack said. “The first time I was here. You were sitting in it, all folded up.” He started for the stairs. “Come on. It’s in the basement.”

THE CHAIR WAS EVEN MORE forlorn-looking than Lucy remembered. Falling through the stair rail hadn’t done a thing for it.

Zack started by pulling the seat cushion off and handing it to Lucy, who poked and prodded at it. “There’s no seam or anything here that’s open.” She tossed it down. “It’s just a cushion.”

Zack and Anthony had the chair upside down by then.

“Nothing,” Anthony said.

“The hell with this.” Zack took out his pocketknife and slashed the burlap fabric covering the chair bottom. They both peered inside it.

“Nothing,” Anthony said.

“Turn it right side up again.” Lucy knelt down in front of it when it was upright again. “When you sit in this chair, you tilt back, so anything that falls out of a pocket would go into the crease between the back cushion and the seat cushion.”

“I already checked,” Zack said. “I shoved my fingers clear to the back.”

Lucy shook her head. “But every time somebody sits down in this thing, it jerks forward and then flops back. Anything that fell in the crease two weeks ago could be anywhere in this chair by now. Give me your knife. ”

Zack handed it over. Lucy moved around to the back of the chair, slashed at the upholstery, and peeled it up. She pulled out the foam and the wadding and exposed the coils at the bottom of the back.

“If it’s anywhere, it’ll be here.” She crouched until her chin was almost on the ground, peering into the coils, and then reached her hand inside.

“Lucy,” Zack said. “I really did…”

His voice trailed off as Lucy pulled out a small key with a square black head, stamped with a number.

“How did you know?” Anthony said.

“Logic,” Lucy said.

“I’ll be damned,” Zack said.

AFTER HE LOCKED THE DOOR behind Anthony, Zack went back upstairs to find Lucy in her bedroom doorway, staring at the wreckage.

The windows were gone, replaced temporarily with boards, and the plaster ceiling sagged, and the hole in the middle of the bed had left it only a charred frame.

Lucy bit her lip. “I don’t care if it wasn’t a big bomb. It did a lot of damage. There wouldn’t have been much left of me.”

Zack put his arm around her. “You’ve got great instincts, kid, but we shouldn’t be here now. Close the door and come on upstairs.”

“My quilt.” Lucy looked down at the torn and stained mess on the floor.

Zack tried to be helpful. “It has to stay where it is for now. The lab people will be back tomorrow to look at it. But maybe after that we can fix it.” He looked down at it doubtfully. “Or something.”

Lucy tilted her head to look at it. “Is that the way it was on the bed?”

“I suppose. I pulled it straight off. Why?”

“It’s sideways. The square from the Confederate uniform goes at the top. I always put it at the top. Now it’s over here. That’s what I noticed, that the quilt wasn’t right.”

“Good for you.” Zack tightened his arm around her and pulled her away from the door. “Come on. We’re not supposed to be here.”

He closed the door and put the tape back across it, and they turned toward the stairs. Then from inside the room, there came a loud cracking noise and a massive thud.

Lucy stopped cold. “Was that another bomb?”

“No.” Zack opened the door to the attic stairs. “That was your ceiling. Falling. Don’t go back in there, okay?”

Lucy swallowed. “I don’t think I’m ever going to feel safe again.”

Zack felt a surge of anger. Lucy loved this house and now some creep was making it a hell for her.

Then she turned to him, and he forced himself to grin. “Well, I can guarantee that if you go upstairs and get into bed with me, you won’t be safe. I guarantee that you’ll be attacked immediately. All my instincts say so.”

Her eyes widened, and he held his breath.

“I thought we were finished,” Lucy said. “I thought you left.”

“I thought so, too.” Zack stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I can still go if you want. My instincts could be wrong, for once.”

Lucy shook her head slowly. “Your instincts are never wrong.”

“Good.” Zack breathed deeply again and jerked his thumb at the stairs. “Get moving.” She smiled at him suddenly, and he went dizzy just looking at her. “You know, I really like your hair,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

“Thank you,” Lucy said, and went up the stairs.

“You didn’t call Junior, did you?” Zack asked, and followed her.

ZACK WOKE UP THE NEXT morning, shifting against Lucy, feeling her warm weight as both a memory and a promise.

Thank God, he was back with her. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to stay with her. But he was going to have to be subtle. Take it slow. Think it through.

Then he looked down at Lucy, waking slowly, flushed and warm from sleep.

He’d think it through later.

Lucy yawned. He bent to kiss her, and she said, “Ouch.”

“What?”

“Whisker burn.” Lucy rubbed her cheek.

“I know, I know.” Zack started to roll out of bed. “I’ll shave.”

“No!” Lucy caught at his arm and pulled him back. “Don’t shave.” She snuggled up next to him. “I like it.”

“I thought on the porch the other day you said…”

“Well, I like waking up with you like this,” Lucy amended. “You’ll have to shave later to go to work, but I like it now. It reminds me of the first time I saw you.”

Zack wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him so he could see her better. “So it’s all right in bed, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” Lucy balanced her chin on her folded hands and smiled sleepily into his eyes. “It helps with one of my new fantasies.”

“Yeah?” Zack shifted a little to center her on top of him for maximum pleasure. “What new fantasy is that?”

Lucy grinned, the sleepiness in her smile melting into guile. “The one about the innocent schoolteacher and the vicious, uncivilized cop. Want to play?”

“Sure.” Zack ran his hands up her back. “Who do you want to be?”

“I, of course, will be the innocent schoolteacher.” Lucy batted her eyes at him.

“Which makes me the cop. All right, you have the right to remain naked.”

Lucy laughed.

“Innocent schoolteacher, huh?” Zack watched her eyes close as he moved his hands over her. “This isn’t going to work.”

“Why not?” Lucy popped her eyes open.

“You’re not that good an actress.” Zack rolled and pinned her beneath him.

“Well, I used to be an innocent schoolteacher,” Lucy said, and then he took her mouth, and she drowned in the heat there. Thank goodness, I’m not anymore, she thought, and then she thought of nothing but Zack.

THE DAY DRIFTED BY, a mix of unpleasant reminders like the forensics unit showing up to take Lucy’s bedroom apart, and mindless pleasures like laughing over lunch and playing with the dogs in the backyard. Everything was back to normal between them except that they were being very careful not to discuss anything controversial, like marriage. By the time dinner was over, Lucy still didn’t know what she wanted in the future, but she knew what she wanted in the immediate present. She wanted Zack.

She leaned against the dining-room table and watched him as he sat on the floor and talked to the dogs.

And wanted him.

It was a new feeling for her, this helpless love and lust and longing that grew while she watched him. She’d never felt more out of control and had never enjoyed a feeling more.

She just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Zack looked up at her and caught her watching him, and she blinked.

“Say it,” Zack said.

“What?”

“Say it” He grinned at her from the floor, Maxwell in his lap. “I’ve been meaning to mention that to you. You’re about as transparent as window glass.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Every time you start to say something you think you shouldn’t say, you stop and blink.”

“You’re kidding,” Lucy said, wide-eyed.

“Nope. Every damn time. Anthony noticed it, too.”

Lucy felt herself blush. “Well, that’s humiliating.”

“No, it’s not.” Zack’s smile washed over her, and she stopped blushing. “We thought it was cute. Anyway, the point is, you don’t have to do that with me. There’s nothing that you can’t say to me. Just say it.”

Lucy opened her mouth and shut it again.

“Say it” Zack tipped Maxwell off his lap and stood. He stepped toward her and put his face close to hers and his hands on each side of her on the table, trapping her there. “Nothing you can say will shock me. Just spit it out, honey.”

“Make love to me here,” Lucy said suddenly, as if she had to get the words out fast. “On the dining-room table. Right now.”

“What?”

“Now,” Lucy said. “I want you now. On the table.”

“I was wrong,” Zack said. “I’m shocked.”

“Well,” Lucy began, and then he put his hands on her waist and boosted her up onto the table.

“And delighted. Did I mention ‘delighted’?” He moved himself between her knees, parting her legs as he moved closer to her, pulling her skirt up as he moved his hands up her thighs. “Don’t you ever blink again. I might have missed this.” Then he kissed her, and she fell into his heat, moving her hands across his shoulders to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair as he pulled her hips hard against him and licked his tongue into her mouth. She wrapped her legs around him, and he moved against her once and then stopped.

“Lucy.”

“Don’t stop,” she said into his neck. “You feel so good.”

“Oh, you do, too. Believe me, stopping is not what I want.” He laced his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back to look into her eyes. “But I forgot. The condoms are upstairs. So you have a choice. You can sit down here and think hot thoughts while I set the land-speed record for a round trip on two flights of stairs, or you can set one with me and we can make it a one-way sprint. Your choice.”

Lucy licked her lips. “Can we do it on the table some other time?”

“Often,” Zack said fervently. “Whenever you want. I swear.”

“One-way trip.” Lucy slid off the table and down Zack at the same time. “Don’t dawdle.”

She kissed him hard and then raced into the living room, heading for the stairs while he recovered from the rush her slide had given him.

“You know, I used to think you were an old-fashioned girl,” Zack called after her. “Thank God I was wrong.” Then, having given her a healthy head start, he started running, too.

WHEN ANTHONY RANG the doorbell the next day, Zack answered then left Anthony to close the front door while he went back to Lucy in the living room.

“Absolutely not,” he said to her. “No way.”

Lucy sat down on the arm of one of the overstuffed chairs and visibly gathered her patience.

“What is it now?” Anthony asked, keeping an eye on Heisenberg, who had rolled over onto his back. “Lucy getting stir-crazy again?”

“She wants to paint the kitchen floor.” Zack ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “Can you imagine? A great hardwood floor, and she wants to paint it.”

“It’s water-stained!” Lucy wailed. “It’s all blotchy! It looks ugly, and if we painted it…”

“No,” Zack said. “It looks just like my grandma’s floor. You let it be. We’ll just varnish it, and it’ll look great.”

“I don’t think so…” Lucy began, but Zack’s mind had already leaped to another subject.

“Have we got anything to eat? I’m starving. Nachos, that’s what I need. Have we got nachos?” He turned toward the kitchen.

Anthony watched him, dumbfounded, and then turned to Lucy. “What have you done with Zack’s brain?”

Lucy stood to follow Zack. “What brain? I don’t think he has one. I think he’s just one giant exposed nerve ending. I swear sometimes at night, I can hear his neurons snapping like popcorn.”

“Why does he give a damn about your kitchen floor?”

“Well, he sort of discovered it a couple of days ago, and I think he bonded with it. And now I’m not going to be able to paint it because it would break his heart, and it’s blotchy.”

Anthony looked at her closely for the first time since he’d walked in the room. She was wearing one of Zack’s shirts with the top three buttons unbuttoned and tight jeans with the cuffs rolled up. Her hair was a halo of rumpled auburn curls, there was color in her cheeks from arguing with Zack, and she stood resolutely with her hands on her hips and her feet planted firmly apart, glaring at the kitchen and presumably at Zack inside it.

She looked positive and confident and alive and glowing. And pretty damn sexy.

Zack stuck his head out the kitchen door. “I found the nachos. Am I cooking for one, two, or three?”

“You’re cooking?” Anthony said.

Zack looked at him in mild surprise. “Well, I have to eat.”

“Three,” Lucy said. “And remember, if the cheese explodes in the microwave…”

“I’ll clean it up. Big deal.” Heisenberg barked and Zack looked down. “Dead dog,” he said, and went back into the kitchen, and Heisenberg rolled over, quivering with pleasure, and trotted into the kitchen, too.

“This is eerie,” Anthony said. “It’s like the Night of the Living Yuppies.”

“Watch your mouth,” Lucy said. “We never Yup.”

“You know those old science-fiction movies where the mad scientist puts a steel cap on a human being and another steel cap on a chimpanzee and pulls a switch, and their brains scramble?” Anthony looked toward the kitchen. “That’s what this reminds me of.”

“Are you calling me a chimpanzee?” Lucy demanded.

“No, that would be Zack,” Anthony said. “What’s going on here?”

“What are you talking about?” Lucy blushed. “There’s nothing going on here.”

Anthony grinned at her. Lucy was hooked. Now all he had to do was make sure of Zack.

Zack called him into the kitchen for a beer.

“I found the bank,” Anthony told him, lounging against the counter to watch him cook. “We should have the warrant by tomorrow. You coming with me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Zack sprinkled cheese over a plate of nachos with a practiced hand. “I want to see inside that box.”

“Patrol car out in front for Lucy again?”

“Yeah. And I think her sister’s coming over, too. We met yesterday for the first time.” Zack shook his head. “That wasn’t pretty. Another good reason for me to leave.”

Anthony snagged a nacho chip from the bag on the counter and crunched it. “You know, Zack, if we find the bonds, you’ll be gone permanently. We’ll spread this all over the papers. Whichever of the Bradleys is trying to break in here will give up. Lucy won’t need protection anymore.”

“No, but she’ll need me.” Zack slid the nacho plate into the microwave and punched the button. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I like Lucy-” Anthony began.

“I do, too, and I saw her first. Stay away from her.”

Anthony tried again. “As I was saying, I like Lucy, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“I don’t, either,” Zack said, exasperated. “That’s why I moved in here, remember?”

“I’m not talking about the Bradleys.” Anthony picked up another nacho, and Zack moved the bag away from him. “I’m talking about you. You worry me. I don’t want you to hurt her.”

“Why would I hurt Lucy?” Zack frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

Anthony abandoned subtlety. “I’m talking about your intentions, you fool. Are you planning on living here forever?”

“Yes. And to answer your next question, I already proposed. She said no.”

Anthony dropped his nacho. “You proposed?”

“But she’ll give in. She just needs time.” Zack leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “Hell, she just got divorced a week ago.”

Anthony bent to pick up the dropped chip, but Heisenberg was already there. He straightened. “Let me get this right. You asked Lucy to marry you?”

Zack looked unconcerned. “It may take a couple of months, but she’ll say yes.”

“You want to get married? You?”

“Only to Lucy.” The microwave dinged and Zack took out the nachos. “We need salsa with these.” He handed the plate to Anthony. “Be careful. It’s hot.” He began to rummage through the refrigerator, looking for salsa.

Anthony stood in disbelief as the plate seared his fingers. “This is eerie.”

“No.” Zack found the salsa and more beer. “This is Lucy. She has this effect on me. I like it.” He slammed the refrigerator door and headed for the dining room.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Anthony said and followed him.

TINA SHOWED THE NEXT morning on the dot of nine, striding into Lucy’s empty kitchen as if she owned it.

“Your baby-sitter’s here,” she announced. “That coffee smells wonderful. I can’t believe that I’m up at this ungodly hour. Only for you.”

“Go upstairs and go back to bed,” Lucy suggested, turning from the counter to hug her sister.

“No. Just give me some coffee. Where’s the kitchen table?” Tina stepped back from Lucy as Zack came in from the dining room with the three dogs. “Oh, look, you hired a shepherd.”

“You know, you remind me of somebody,” Zack said.

“Spare me.” Tina looked down at her feet. Maxwell had draped himself over her suede pumps. “Get off my feet, you little rat.”

“Got it,” Zack said. “Cruella deVil. If she doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.”

“I see you’re dating the cultural elite,” Tina said to Lucy.

“Stop it, both of you,” Lucy said. “It’s too early for this.”

“I’ll put the boys in the backyard on my way out,” Zack said as he put on his jacket. “Anthony’s out front Gotta go.” He kissed Lucy on the cheek. “Don’t forget the dogs. It’s cold out.” He passed Tina on his way out “Great seeing you again.”

When Zack and the dogs had gone, Tina said, “Don’t forget the dogs? You? Who is he kidding? Exactly what is going on here?”

“Nothing.”

A grin crept over Lucy’s face, and Tina pounced. “Tell me everything.”

“No.” The coffee stopped dripping into the pot, and Lucy poured two mugs and handed Tina one. “I’m happy, and I’m being careful. You don’t need to worry.”

Tina leaned against the counter and sipped from her mug as she considered what Lucy had said. “What do you mean, careful?”

Lucy shrugged. “I know how bad my instincts are for men. I’m not counting on Zack sticking around. I’m staying independent” The toaster popped and she put two more slices of bread on a plate that already held four. “Strawberry or grape jam?”

“Strawberry. Where’s your table?”

“We’re refinishing the floor. Zack’s idea. Come on, we can eat in the dining room.”

Tina followed her in and sat down. “Lucy, you’re not paying attention here. You don’t have to worry about Zack sticking around. He’s moved in. He’s adopted your dogs. I think he’s planning on being around for the next sixty years. In fact, I think you’d better prepare yourself to turn down a proposal.”

Lucy slid into the chair across from her and reached for the jam. “He already proposed. But that was just heat-of-the-moment stuff.”

“Men will say anything in bed,” Tina agreed, and sipped her coffee.

“Oh, we weren’t in bed. We were here. Having breakfast.” She bit into her toast, enjoying the crunch.

Tina choked on her coffee. “Breakfast? He proposed in the clear light of day? In the morning?”

“Yep. Even before I fed him.”

“It wouldn’t have been the food, anyway. You don’t cook that well.” Tina sat back and marshaled her thoughts. “You’re going to have to face it He’s serious.”

Lucy tried to shrug it off. “Probably. But I don’t know if I am.”

Tina started to say something and then blinked instead.

“I don’t believe it,” Lucy said. “You do it, too.”

“Do what?”

“You blink when you think of something you can’t say. Zack says I do it all the time. And now you’re doing it, too.”

“I am? We do?” Tina was nonplused. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. What was it you were going to say?”

“Nothing.”

“Something about Zack.”

“No.” Tina stopped and blinked again. “I don’t believe it. I could feel it coming, and I couldn’t stop it That is one habit I am definitely breaking.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Just that if you think you’re not serious about Zack, you’re deluding yourself.” She looked again into Lucy’s glowing face. “I give up. He’s not the guy I would have picked for you, but he’s obviously the guy you’ve picked for you.”

Lucy looked prim. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just got divorced. It would be foolish to talk about getting married again so soon. Really foolish.”

“Illogical.” Tina buttered a piece of toast and bit into it.

“Right.”

Tina licked the butter off her fingers. “Don’t put me in pink for the wedding. I hate pink.”

ZACK AND ANTHONY stood in the dry metal-lined basement of the Third National Bank of Riverbend and stared into a dry, metal-lined safe-deposit box, the contents of which they had just inventoried. It did not have one hundred and fifty ten-thousand-dollar government bonds in it.

It had one hundred and thirty-two.

“He spent a hundred and eighty thousand dollars in less than a year?” Zack shook his head. “This guy needs a budget.”

“Running from the police and homicidal in-laws is not cheap,” Anthony said. “I think it’s time to alert the media and get this guy off Lucy’s tail.”

“Hell, yes.”

But when they got back to the station, there was a new report.

Bradley Porter -or somebody- was using his credit cards again.

In an Overlook motel.

OVERLOOK WAS A MISERABLE part of town, bleak and gray. As Zack got out of the car, an old hamburger wrapper blew down the street in front of the motel, startling a dirty mongrel who skipped away, limping, and a metal sign creaked and banged over a derelict gas station. The only signs that humanity had ever been there were the two cars parked in front of the motel, and the overflowing trash cans outside the burger place next to it.

There were no people.

“You take me to the best places,” Zack said to Anthony, as they went into the motel lobby.

Anthony ignored him.

Fifteen minutes later, they were back on the street again. John Bradley had stayed there and then checked out There were other people in his room now. In fact, there had been several other people in the room since.

Bradley Porter had never been there.

“This is nuts. This makes no sense,” Zack said. “What is he, the Invisible Man?”

“Zack…”

“We know he’s in this with John Bradley. So why doesn’t anybody ever see him?”

“Zack…”

“If this guy really is in Kentucky all this time…”

“Zack!”

“What?”

“You’ve got to stop obsessing about Bradley Porter,” Anthony said. “Get back to the case. It is entirely possible that he’s not really that involved, mat he was just doing a few favors for an old friend and got in over his head.”

Zack set his jaw. “Porter’s involved. Let’s ask the people in that burger joint. They had to eat Maybe they went there.”

Anthony stared at the cracked plastic restaurant sign with distaste. “If they did, they were desperate.”

“Exactly,” Zack said.

Five minutes later, Zack was back outside with a greasy burger and a great feeling of annoyance. The counter girl had never seen Bradley Porter, but she’d recognized the picture of John Bradley immediately.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen this man?” Zack had pressed her, showing her Bradley Porter’s picture again.

“Positive. He’s hot. Him, I’d remember.”

Great He was hot Great.

Zack had picked up his burger and stalked out, leaving Anthony to question her about John Bradley. Now out on the street, he unwrapped the burger. It didn’t look like food. It didn’t smell like food. And he didn’t want to know what it tasted like. He went to put it in the trash and noticed the mongrel he’d seen earlier, sitting by the can. It was a middle-size dog, dirty gray-brown and mangy, but it had huge eyes that looked up at him.

And at his burger.

“This is your lucky day, mutt.” He broke the sandwich in half and then in fourths so it wouldn’t choke trying to swallow the whole thing at once.

He put a quarter of the sandwich down, expecting the dog to lunge for it. The dog looked at the sandwich and then at him with huge, pleading eyes.

“Go on.” Zack nodded. “Go on. Eat it.”

The dog moved cautiously toward the sandwich and then grabbed it and wolfed it down.

“Easy.” Zack put the second quarter down. “Easy. You’re going to choke, and I don’t do the Heimlich maneuver on dogs.”

The dog wolfed that section down, too.

When Zack reached down with the third quarter, the dog took it directly from his hand. Gently.

“You were somebody’s dog once, weren’t you?” Zack crouched down across from him, watching the third section disappear. He held out the last section and the dog took it, as gently as before. Zack wadded up the paper while the dog chewed and tossed it in the trash can. It immediately blew out again and tumbled down the street, startling the dog into skipping back a few paces.

“Rough life, huh?” Zack said, and the dog came back, cautiously, to stand only an arm’s reach away.

Zack reached out and scratched him carefully behind the ears.

The dog closed its eyes in ecstasy.

“Don’t get used to this,” Zack said, and then he heard Anthony behind him say, “You talk to dogs?”

“Of course, I talk to dogs.” Zack straightened quickly and scared the dog back another couple of steps with his movement. “It’s not like I talk to plants or anything non-sentient.”

Anthony cocked an eyebrow at him. “Non-sentient?”

Zack winced. “Sorry. Lucy’s rubbing off on me.”

“Well, if your conversation’s finished, we’ve got things to do.”

“Right.” Zack got in the car, deliberately not looking at the dog. It was just a dog. Big deal.

Anthony started the engine, and Zack turned to the door to get his seat belt.

And there was the dog, sitting exactly where he’d left him. Staring at him.

Oh, hell.

“Wait a minute,” he said, and Anthony stopped.

“What?”

Zack opened the car door. “You coming?” he said to the dog.

“You’re kidding,” Anthony said.

The dog just sat there, looking at him.

“Well, come on,” Zack said, and the dog stood and walked slowly toward the car.

“Get in,” Zack said. “We don’t have all day.” And the dog climbed in carefully, favoring its back leg, and curled up at Zack’s feet.

“I don’t believe this,” Anthony said.

“Just drive to Lucy’s.” When Anthony didn’t move, Zack glared at him. “Listen, I have no choice. If I left this dog, she’d never speak to me again.”

“She’d never know.”

“You don’t know Lucy.” Zack suddenly grinned down at the dog, and it thumped its tail. “Besides, this is a great dog.”

Anthony stared at the dog and Zack with equal incredulity. Then he started the car and drove to Lucy’s.