Getting Rid Of Bradley

Chapter Eleven

Lucy screamed, and then he was in the kitchen, pointing a gun at her and kicking at the barking dogs that surrounded him.

“Don’t move,” he said, and she froze, the can of varnish in her hand.

“The key,” he said. “All I want is the damn key.” He was tall and tense and terrifying, and his eyes burned into hers, angry and desperate.

“It’s too late,” Lucy said, and her voice came out in a terrified whisper. “They found it. It was in the chair. They already opened the box.”

“You’re lying,” he said through his teeth, and Lucy shook her head frantically.

“No, it’s true. I can prove it. They counted what was in the box. There was $180,000 missing. The police have it all.”

His jaw clenched, and she saw him clutch the gun tighter. “Then the police can give it back.”

Lucy took a deep, deliberate breath, trying to stay calm. Somebody help me, she thought, and then she shoved the thought away and concentrated on saving herself. “You’re better off just getting away.”

“No.” He kept the gun on her. “I can get the bonds. I’ve got you as a hostage. Where’s the phone?”

Lucy tried to think around the terror that lapped at her brain. “That hostage stuff never works. Haven’t you seen the movies? They surround the place and bring in negotiators. You’ll never get out of here. Really, you’re better off just getting away.”

“We’re not going to call all the police,” he said and smiled at her. It was a chilling smile that never went near his eyes, and it made the next breath she drew sound like a sob. “We’re going to call just one. Just the cop you’ve been screwing.”

Lucy swallowed hard, too scared to be outraged. “What?”

“The dark-haired one. Call him and tell him to bring the bonds.”

For just a second, the bottom dropped out of Lucy’s mind, plunging her back to the night before, the darkness, and the shots, and the terror of losing Zack. “No,” she said. “There is no way I will call him here so you can shoot him. No.”

“You don’t have any choice,” he said.

“No.” Lucy brought the spray can in front of her and hugged it to her chest, popping the lid off as she clutched it. “No. I won’t.”

“You don’t have any choice,” he said again. “Because I will shoot your dogs, one at a time, until you do.”

He aimed the gun at Heisenberg, and Lucy screamed, “No!” and hurled herself at him, and the dogs screamed and leaped in response, so that when he fired the gun, the bullet missed Heisenberg and went harmlessly into the floor.

By then, Lucy was on top of him with the only weapon she had. And when he jerked his head up to her, raising the gun at the same time, she sprayed him full in the face with the varnish.

He stumbled backward, screaming and clawing at his eyes with his free hand, tripping backward over Einstein who had leaped behind him at the sound of the shot, propelled by Pete who didn’t have the upbringing of the other three dogs and who went for his throat.

Lucy shoved past him in her scramble to get to the back door. She grabbed the baseball bat as she landed against the wall, and then, without thinking, while he tried to fight Pete off and clear his eyes, she swung the bat as hard as she could and connected solidly with the side of his head.

His head made a sound like a melon dropped from a great height, and he toppled over.

Lucy yelled for the dogs and flung open the back door, and when they were safely over him and out, she ran out after them and stumbled next door to Mrs. Dover’s.

The old woman opened the door before Lucy could knock and stood there, scowling at her.

“I have to call the police,” Lucy said, breathing hard, trying not to tremble. “A man just broke into my house and tried to kill me.”

But Mrs. Dover had already swung the door open wider. “Get in here. I already called them. Gunshots. What’s the world coming to?” She was saying all the words she always said, but there was no venom this time. She patted Lucy’s arm awkwardly, frowning at her. “Is he still looking for you? Should we hide?”

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t ‘think so. I sprayed him with varnish and hit him with a baseball bat.”

“Good for you,” Mrs. Dover said, still scowling. “Want some tea?”

ZACK HAD JUST REACHED the door to the squad room when Matthews grabbed him. “Shots and screams at your place. It’s Bradley. Falk’s already there. I just waited to tell you. Go.”

And Zack had gone, his heart frozen and his breath stolen.

Shots and screams.

His place.

And then he was there, and there was an ambulance, and he parked the car crazily against the curb and ran to find out how badly she was hurt.

That was when he saw her standing on Mrs. Dover’s cement porch.

“I’m okay,” she called to him, but he went to her anyway, holding her carefully to reassure himself that he hadn’t lost her.

TWO HOURS LATER, THINGS were calmer, but Zack wasn’t.

“What does he say?” Zack said, pacing back and forth through Lucy’s living room.

“He doesn’t say anything,” Anthony said. He was stretched out in one of the overstuffed chairs, collapsed more from relief than from tiredness. “He’s in surgery for a cracked skull. God knows what the varnish did to his eyes. Lucy really did a job on him. And more power to her. He’s John Bradley, all right.”

Zack stopped pacing. “We’ve got that for sure?”

Anthony nodded. “We’ve got it for sure. The Bergmans identified him. With great pleasure. I’ll tell you, between Lucy and his in-laws, anything we do to him in court is going to be superfluous.”

“We’re still going to do it to him. What about the gun?”

“A.38. It’s a match.”

“So that’s it?” Zack said.

“Well, we still need to talk to Bradley Porter,” Anthony pointed out. “He has some explaining to do. But he didn’t steal the bonds, and he didn’t shoot Bianca. He’s important, but not like this guy. The worst is over.”

“Great,” Zack said.

Anthony sighed and pushed himself out of the chair to stand in front of Zack. “I know what’s bothering you. You weren’t here for Lucy. But you couldn’t have been here. He was waiting for you to leave so he could get her. You protected her as well as you could. And she’s fine.”

Zack hunched his shoulders. “Yeah, I know she’s fine.” He turned and walked away to drum his fingers on the mantel. “Tony, this whole thing stinks. Every instinct I’ve got says we screwed up.”

“How?” Anthony demanded. “We’ve got John Bradley. We’ve got a bullet match, we’ve got him attacking Lucy, we’ve got him tied to the plastic explosive… Hell, we’ve got everything but videotapes. He was trying to get Lucy to get the key. She got him first, thank God. It’s over.”

“No,” Zack said stubbornly.

“Fine.” Anthony shook his head. “I give up. You and your instincts stew. I’m leaving. I haven’t had a full day off since I met Lucy, and I need one. I’m going back to do the report on this, and then I’m going home. If you need me, call.” He turned to the door.

Lucy came in from the kitchen with two beers. “I know you’re on duty-”

“Right.” Zack took one of the cans.

“Thank you, Rambette, but no,” Anthony said. “I’m just leaving, and regardless, I want all my reflexes sharp in case you attack.”

“Don’t laugh,” Lucy said. “It was awful.”

“I should have been here,” Zack said and his voice cracked.

Lucy shook her head as she went to him. “It was awful, but I’m glad I did it. He tried to destroy my house. He tried to hurt my dogs. I’m glad I took care of it.” She put her arms around him and looked up at him while he stared down at her miserably. “I wanted to be the one to handle it. That was important. I didn’t know it until it was over, but it was.”

“It’s bad for my ego.” Zack cradled her face with one hand while he pulled her closer. He brushed her cheek gently with his thumb and tried to grin, but he was tense still.

Anthony broke in. “Fortunately, as we all know, your ego has miraculous powers of recovery. And by the way, Lucy, I almost forgot. We got you something.”

“We?” Lucy said, turning to him, and Zack said, “We who?”

“We everybody. Wait here.” Anthony went out to the hall and brought back a long thin package. “It’s from all of us-Falk, Matthews, Forensics. We all signed it.”

Lucy stepped away from Zack and took the package. She opened one end and tipped out a brand-new baseball bat covered with scribbled signatures. “You’re kidding! You all got this for me?”

Anthony grinned at her. “Actually, Forensics felt guilty about taking your bat as evidence, so I went out and got one about an hour ago. Everybody’s signed it except Zack, and I’m sure he’ll get to it later.”

“Sure,” Zack said.

Anthony studied him carefully. “You coming back to the station today?”

Zack nodded without looking at him. “In a minute.”

“Well, I’m going now.” Anthony put his arm around Lucy and kissed her on the cheek. “We’re all very proud of you, kid. The only bad part is that we’re not going to get anymore 911 ‘s from here. The boys are going to miss those trips.”

“I’m not.” Lucy leaned into him a little. “I just want my house fixed, and my life back to normal.”

When Anthony was gone and Lucy had stashed the new bat in a place of honor by the back door, Zack leaned against the kitchen counter and said, “We need to talk.”

“All right,” Lucy said, her voice wary.

Zack folded his arms and tried to look calm. “Am I part of the ‘back to normal’?”

Lucy started to blink and stopped herself. “Of course, you are,” she said. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, look. I know you don’t want to get married,” Zack said, “but…”

“Well, actually,” Lucy broke in, “I…”

They both stopped to let the other finish, and the door chime went.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “It’s probably one of your guys. Somebody probably forgot something.”

He followed her to see, almost bumping into her in the vestibule when she stopped suddenly as she looked through the colored glass on the outside door.

She turned, and Zack, looking past her through the jeweled window, knew what she was going to say before the words were out.

“It’s Bradley.”

THE NEXT MOMENTS WERE jumbled for Lucy, trying to reassure Zack while not shutting out Bradley- a Bradley who looked so white and shaken and angry and so grateful to see her, all at the same time, that she felt sorry for him after all.

“Are you all right?” Bradley grabbed her by the upper arms and looked her over frantically. “I saw the police cars. Are you all right?”

“She’s fine.” Zack held out his hand to Bradley. “I’m Detective Zachary Warren, Riverbend P.D. We’d like to ask you a few questions about John Bradley. Where have you been?”

“Detective Warren.” Bradley looked at Zack’s hand for a moment, and then he released Lucy so he could shake it. “I’ve been in Kentucky. I left a forwarding address with the bank.” He put his arm around Lucy. “Thank you very much for helping my wife.”

“Ex-wife,” Zack said, his teeth clenched.

Bradley looked down at Lucy. “Thank God, you’re safe.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I think it’s time we talked.”

“I do, too.” Lucy stood rigid inside his arm, keeping an inch of space between them by sheer force. “I think we should have talked about this a long time ago. Why didn’t you call?”

“Tina told me not to,” Bradley said. His arm dropped away, and Lucy relaxed a little. “And you were being unreasonable. You threw my clothes out on the lawn. You threw my chair down to the basement.” He stopped as if he realized he was sounding petulant and then smiled down at her, tightly, forgiving. “But I understand. You were upset. I think we should talk now.”

“I don’t,” Zack said, almost spitting the words out. “I think we should talk now.”

“Zack,” Lucy said to him, willing him to understand. “I need to know what happened. Then I can pick up and go on.”

Zack glared at her. “Lucy, I’m a cop. He has information about a crime. I need to take him in for questioning.”

“I know,” Lucy said. “But I’m his ex-wife. I need a few answers myself. Give us just a little time. Please.”

Zack clenched his jaw. “Swell. Let’s all go in and talk.”

Bradley’s grip tightened on Lucy’s shoulder. “There’s no need for you to stay. This is between Lucy and me.”

“Just half an hour alone.” Lucy pleaded with him with her eyes.

Zack hesitated and then said, “All right.”

Lucy stepped back so that he wouldn’t kiss her. She didn’t want Bradley putting up any more walls. She wanted to know what had happened, and how that blonde had come into her Me and blown it into pieces just like the other Bradley’s bomb had blown up her house.

And when she knew that, she’d have a new life, one with Zack this time, full of laughter and promise.

But first she needed to know what had happened.

Zack looked back at Bradley one more time. “All right. I’ll wait outside. You have half an hour.”

And then he was gone, out the front door.

Lucy took a deep breath. “Come on,” she said to Bradley. “I’ll make you a cup of tea. Two sugars.”

ZACK SAT IN HIS CAR in front of Lucy’s house and seethed.

Something was wrong. It wasn’t jealousy. Okay, he was jealous as hell, but that wasn’t it. He knew Lucy wasn’t going back to Bradley. He knew she’d stay with him. At least, he was pretty sure she would. Hell, they’d adopted a dog together.

Think, he told himself. What was wrong with Bradley? He’d felt uneasy before he’d met Bradley, but afterward, he’d been crazy with suspicion. So it was something Bradley had said. Or done. And all he had to do was go through everything word by word, movement by movement, until he figured it out.

Fast.

LUCY WAS UNEASY.

There was something really wrong with Bradley. He kept looking at her like she was some precious treasure he’d lost and found, and, worse, he kept talking that way, too, in spite of everything she’d said.

“It’s good to be home.” Bradley surveyed the kitchen. “Where’s the table? What happened to the floor?”

“It…came up.” Lucy took a mug from the shelf and filled it with water, trying to think of how to get the answers she needed. Two weeks with Zack had taught her the futility of subtlety, so she put the mug of water in the microwave for his tea, punched the button, and then turned to face him. “Bradley, what’s been going on?”

He frowned at her, annoyed by her directness. “It’s very simple, really. An old friend of mine from high school came into town and asked for help.”

“ John Bradley.”

“We called him J.B. in high school.”

“He was an embezzler,” Lucy said.

Bradley suddenly grew remote. “Unfortunately, I didn’t know he’d broken the law. All I did was help an old friend.”

“How?”

He frowned at her. “I arranged a hotel room for him.”

“In Overlook?”

Bradley’s frown deepened. “He didn’t have much money. I offered to lend him some, but he refused. J.B. was always very proud.”

“He had money,” Lucy said, folding her arms. “He had almost a million and a half in government bonds.”

“He didn’t tell me that.” Bradley was visibly angry with her now, annoyed that his statement had been questioned, and Lucy fought the coldness that his anger always drenched her in.

He couldn’t do that anymore. Zack was going to keep her warm forever.

“You knew,” she said calmly. “You put them in a safe deposit box.”

“Once he told me he had them, of course, I did.” Bradley was rigid with anger now. “It was the only prudent thing to do. I can’t understand how you could even question that.”

“I’m not questioning it,” Lucy said. “I’m amazed by it. Where did you think he’d gotten that many bonds? K Mart?”

“Really, Lucy-” Bradley began, and she interrupted him, fueled as much by his anger as by hers.

“So how does the blonde figure into this?” Lucy said, glaring at him. “You know, his wife. The one you…”

“So that’s it.” Bradley’s anger disappeared. “You’re still upset about that.”

“Well, of course, I’m still upset about that. I-”

“She lied.”

Lucy stopped, dumbfounded. “What?”

“She lied,” Bradley said. “She wanted to force me to tell her where J.B. was, so she said if I didn’t, she’d tell you that ridiculous story, that we’d been…together. I told her not to bother. I told her you’d never believe her.” Bradley’s eyes were suddenly hurt and accusing. “And you believed her.”

“Bradley, she described my bedroom,” Lucy said, trying to keep her temper. “And you didn’t say one word. Not one.”

“I told you I could explain. You wouldn’t listen.”

“I listened,” Lucy said. “You didn’t explain. You said you would, and then you just stood there.”

The microwave beeped, and Lucy took the mug out and plopped a tea bag in it before she shoved it at Bradley. Water slopped over the edge.

Bradley took the cup and watched the water drip off it. “A wife who loves and trusts her husband believes him without an explanation,” he said, not looking at her at all.

“Not in this century,” Lucy said, and when he didn’t say anything, she went on. “So you never had an affair at all. And I’ve gone through all this pain and all this soul-searching for nothing.”

“You should have trusted me. You know how much I love you.” He looked up at her. “I was going to tell you the day of the divorce. Bianca said she’d meet me at the diner if I brought J.B. and then she’d explain it all to you. But she didn’t come. We watched from across the street, but she didn’t come. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried, things just got worse. I thought for sure if she’d come…” He stopped, and Lucy felt almost sorry for him, he sounded so trapped and frustrated. Then his voice changed. “And then we saw you with that man. J.B. said he was from the police.” He frowned at her, cold and remote again. “You were with another man.”

“He was asking me questions about your friend,” Lucy said. “About J.B. Bianca had telephoned him that J.B. would be there.”

She was a terrible woman, Bradley said, “She wanted the bonds, and she thought she could get them if J.B. was arrested.” He put his tea down on the counter untouched and leaned forward to take her hand, speaking to her earnestly but without warmth, as if she were an important depositor at the bank. “But it doesn’t matter now. What matters is that we’re back together again. From now on, you’ll trust me. We’ll be fine.”

“No,” Lucy said gently. “We’re divorced.”

Bradley tightened his grip on her hand. “We’ll get married again.”

“No,” Lucy said, not gently, and tried to pull her hand away. “We won’t.”

Bradley gripped her hand even harder, and she winced. “I know you’ve been upset with me. But it’s over now. It’s just us. They’re both gone, J.B. and the policeman. I’m back, Lucy. And I’ve missed you so much.”

Lucy heard the determination in his voice and opened her mouth to tell him firmly to get lost. Then she looked in his eyes and saw something she hadn’t expected to see.

Passion. Not sexual passion, but a blinding, possessive, obsessive passion for her, all the same.

She closed her mouth and blinked instead.

ZACK WENT OVER THE conversation for the millionth time. “Thank you very much for helping my wife.” Zack glowered at that memory. Claiming her as his wife and then bitching at her for throwing his stuff on the lawn and in the basement. He was lucky she hadn’t thrown it in the river. Zack pictured Bradley’s face when he’d seen his clothes all over the lawn. It was petty, but it helped.

It couldn’t have been pretty seeing his chair smashed at the bottom of the basement stairs, either…

Zack froze.

When had Bradley seen his chair at the bottom of the basement stairs? Lucy had done that after the locks were on.

He hadn’t been in Kentucky.

He’d been in the house.

He’d helped John Bradley set the bomb.

And now he was in there alone with Lucy.

Zack started to get out of the car so he could kick down Lucy’s front door, but then he stopped.

“He was crazy about her,” Deborah had said. “He could be very jealous,” Lucy had said. “He wasn’t really sane when it came to Lucy,” Tina had said.

Zack closed the car door quietly and walked around to the back of the house.

“I CAN’T, BRADLEY,” Lucy said, trying to sound calm. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back to you. It’s over.” She tried again to disentangle her hand from his, but he held on tight.

“This is because of that detective, isn’t it?” Bradley clenched his lips until there was a white line around his mouth. “You even dyed your hair for him-”

“I really dyed my hair for me,” Lucy temporized while she tried to think of something soothing to say, but Bradley plunged on, not listening.

“-so he wouldn’t have to wake up in the morning and see you with brown hair.”

“Green,” Lucy said automatically and then raised her eyes to his face, startled.

“I loved you with brown hair,” Bradley said.

“You read my note,” Lucy said around the icy lump that suddenly filled her throat. “You read it, and you took it.”

Bradley stepped closer, and she took a step back, bumping into the counter. “You don’t need to change for me.”

“You were here,” Lucy said. “You helped that man put a bomb in my bed.”

Bradley shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to hurt you. J.B. was going to call you and warn you about the bomb so you’d be scared and leave. But the phone was busy.”

“That bomb had a hair-trigger fuse,” Lucy said, her voice shaky with fear and anger. “Anything would have set it off. It could have killed me.”

“I wouldn’t have let him hurt you.” Bradley blocked her against the counter. “I love you.”

“No,” Lucy said, trying to push him away. “No, you don’t. You don’t even know who I am.”

“I know who you are.” Bradley’s jaw clenched so that he could hardly speak. “You’re my wife.” He shoved her arms away from him and pulled her to him before she could protest, and then he kissed her with as much passion as he could.

It was horrible.

BRADLEY HAD TO HAVE gotten in somehow.

Zack prowled around the outside of the house, trying to think how Bradley could have breached the security of Tina’s locks. They were all fine. He’d tried every one, and now he was back at the basement doors. He yanked on the locks again, but they held.

“This makes no sense,” he said aloud, and then out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of yellow fur.

He spun on his heel, startling Phoebe, who stopped practically in mid-leap. “Back off, you furry little bitch,” Zack snarled. “I’m not in the mood.”

Phoebe snarled back at him and leaped away.

Oh, good. He was up against insane house cats now. Lucy took care of armed men, and he repelled flea-bitten unhinged…

He stopped in mid-thought.

Unhinged.

He reached down for the door and, this time, instead of tugging at the center of the bars, he tugged on the hinges to the left.

Nothing.

But when he pulled on the hinges to the right, they lifted away, the double doors fused together with Tina’s locks, swinging up smoothly on the left-hand hinges.

Bingo. Zack started down the stairs.

So did Phoebe.

LUCY DUCKED AWAY, shoving hard to break Bradley’s hold. “No. Stop it.”

“It’s that policeman, isn’t it?” Bradley’s face was wooden, but he let go of her.

Lucy backed into the corner of the kitchen nearest the door, giving herself an escape route. “No, Bradley, it’s you. You let that man in here to bomb this house and try to kill me. You knew he was dangerous. He shot his wife. You knew that.”

Bradley stepped forward to reach for her again, and Lucy stepped back, grabbing the back-door knob, and then they both froze, trapped by the scream of a cat in the basement.

“That’s Phoebe.” Lucy moved toward the basement door. “How did she get in the basement?”

“I know,” Bradley said, and when she turned he was holding a gun.

“Bradley?” Her voice came in a squeak.

“Get away from the door,” he said calmly. “There’s a prowler down there.”

Lucy edged away from the door, praying Bradley wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. How rude had she been?

How out of touch was he?

He moved slowly toward the basement door, like an avalanche gathering speed. Just before he opened the door, he stopped and looked at her. “You stay here. We still need to talk.”

“Right,” Lucy said, bobbing her head frantically. “You bet.”

STIFLING HIS SCREAM WHEN Phoebe went for his leg had been one of the hardest things Zack had ever done, but he’d managed it, smacking her away with his fist and provoking a scream from her that could have peeled paint. She ran back up the stairs to the outside, and he froze for a moment until he was sure no one had heard.

He was on the first step up the stairs to the kitchen when Bradley opened the door and pointed the gun at him.

“Back.” Bradley let the basement door swing closed behind him, and then he walked carefully down the stairs until he was halfway to the bottom.

“Where’s Lucy?” Zack asked, backing away. “Is she…”

“Forget Lucy,” Bradley said coldly. “Lucy is my wife. She’s staying with me.”

Zack tried to think. Present tense was a good sign.

Maybe he’d sent her out for milk. Maybe she wasn’t bleeding to death on the kitchen floor.

He hadn’t heard any shots.

“I’m going to have to kill you.” Bradley sounded as if he wasn’t positive that killing Zack was a good idea, but he was willing to chance it.

“Hey,” Zack said, wishing Anthony was there. “I think we should talk about this. You’re not a bad guy. I’m not a bad guy. We’ve got a lot in common. How about you put down the gun, and we discuss the situation?”

If possible, Bradley grew colder. “Evidently we do have a lot in common. You’ve been sleeping with my wife.” He pointed the gun at Zack’s midsection.

This was not good. “Your wife? Lucy? Not at all.” Zack shook his head. “Nope. Just protecting her. Trust me.”

“I’m not a fool. I read the note she left for you that day. And I can tell from the way she looked at you in the hall.” Bradley raised the gun higher. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Bad idea,” Zack said quickly. “Murder is always a bad idea, but killing a cop? No.” He shook his head. “Don’t do it. The hassle is enormous.”

“It’s not murder,” Bradley said after a moment. “It’s self-defense. I heard an intruder in the basement and shot him. It’s self-defense.”

“Well, actually, Brad, it’s not,” Zack said, trying to sound calm and friendly. “Self-defense only works if the intruder is actually approaching you in a threatening manner. Just offing somebody in your basement doesn’t count.” Bradley appeared to hesitate, and Zack took heart and moved on. “Now, obviously you were duped by John Bradley, so there’s no need…”

“No.” Bradley looked into Zack’s eyes. “You’re not stupid. You know about the windows.”

“The ones John Bradley shot out,” Zack said helpfully.

“You know it was me.”

Terrific. Shut up, Bradley.

“You knew it was me all along. That part of this was always between us.” Bradley smiled as he said it. “You knew. I kept calling to see if you were here, and you always were. So I told J.B. to call you for me, and I stood in the front yard, and when you picked up the phone, I shot at you.”

“You almost shot Lucy that night,” Zack said, and Bradley’s smile disappeared.

“I would never hurt Lucy. When I shot at you on the street that day and almost hit her, I was terrified. I was trying to hit you, not her. I won’t miss this time.”

This was bad. Bradley raised the gun another inch and Zack stared down its barrel. A.45. Again, a.45. They’d be scraping him off the house next door. He had to get out of Property Crimes. It was too damn dangerous. Then he looked past the gun into Bradley’s angry eyes and made a discovery that scared the hell out of him.

Bradley wasn’t nuts. He was just mad as hell. At him. Because he’d slept with Lucy. And Zack knew exactly how that anger felt because it was one of the reasons Zack didn’t like Bradley much, either.

If I thought he’d slept with her while she was seeing me, Zack thought, I’d be furious, too. Imagine if I’d been married to her. Imagine if she obviously wanted him more than me.

I’d want to kill him.

Which meant that unless he came up with something fast, he was going to die.

“You know, Bradley,” Zack said suddenly, “if you shoot me, you’ll never get Lucy back. If we sit down and work this out, you could get off with probation, a suspended sentence. Once Lucy finds out the blonde was lying, she’ll understand why you did it. Unless you shoot me. I’m a cop, Bradley. They’ll throw away the key. And you’ll never get to explain to Lucy.”

“I already explained it.” Bradley dropped the gun slightly. “She doesn’t care. She wants you. As long as you’re alive…”

He began to sight down the barrel again, and Zack gave up.

“Put the gun down, Bradley.”

Lucy’s voice cut through the silence, and they both froze. Zack stared past Bradley to the stairs where she’d appeared, a few steps above him, her brand-new autographed baseball bat balanced above her shoulder.

“Lucy?” Bradley turned slightly, just enough to see her from the corner of his eye. Not enough to give Zack room to move.

“Put it down, Bradley,” she said. “This won’t help things. If you shoot him, you’ll only be in more trouble. Put it down.”

“Lucy, you don’t understand. Go back upstairs.” Bradley turned back to Zack.

“Go, honey,” Zack said, and Bradley’s face went red with anger.

“No, Bradley,” Lucy said. “Listen to me. I have a baseball bat here, and I will hit you with it if you don’t drop your gun.” She said it very calmly, as if it were the most sensible thing in the world instead of the most ridiculous, but Zack could see the bat tremble in her hands, and he felt a chill of fear for her like nothing he had ever felt for himself.

Bradley turned back to her, and Zack had a nightmare vision of him suddenly swinging the gun around to her.

“Go away, Lucy,” Zack said, and Bradley turned back to him, furious.

“Drop it, Bradley,” Lucy said, and Bradley twitched his eyes back to her and then back to Zack.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy.” Bradley’s voice began to shake with impatience. “You won’t hit me with a baseball bat. The whole idea is ludicrous. You are not a violent person.”

“Oh, I can be.” Lucy swallowed hard. “I cracked your friend’s skull with a bat this morning. It made the most awful sound, Bradley. Like a bad melon. I don’t want to hit you, Bradley, and I know you don’t want to shoot Zack. Just put the gun down. Please.”

“Oh, I want to shoot Zack.” Bradley took careful aim at Zack. “I really do. And you won’t hit me, not even to save him. You can’t. You’re not capable of violence. I know you. You’re my wife, and I know you better than you know yourself.” He began to squint his eyes, ready to pull the trigger.

Zack gave up hope and looked at Lucy because he wanted her to be the last thing he saw before he died.

“Well, the thing is, Bradley, I’ve changed,” Lucy said.

And then she swung the bat solidly into the back of his head.

His head jerked forward, and he flung his arms wide as he fell through the broken rail to the floor, jerking on the trigger of the.45 in reflex action, narrowly missing Zack, who had gone in low the moment that Lucy had moved. Bradley fell hard and then staggered to his feet, and Zack was there, putting him down with one punch that had a lot of pent-up frustration behind it Lucy sat down hard on the stairs, clutching her bat and staring at them both in amazement.

Zack picked up the gun and held it on a dazed Bradley. “I enjoyed that,” he said as he nursed his left hand. “Call 911.”

“I already did,” Lucy said. “Before I came down here. I opened the front door so they’d come in when they got here.” Even as she spoke, she heard cautious footsteps above. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Zack said. “I think I broke my hand, but it was worth it. I’ve been wanting to punch him out for two weeks. By the way, thanks for saving my life.”

“If I saved it, does that mean I get to keep it?” Lucy asked, but there were people coming down the steps, and he didn’t hear her. She sat on the stairs and watched it all, sad for Bradley and relieved at the same time.

WHEN EVERYONE HAD GONE, Zack went to find her to tell her that Tina was coming to stay with her while he went downtown, to tell her that she really was safe now, to tell her…

He found her still on the steps, and sat beside her, trying to figure out how to tell her the most important part.

“He really thought he loved me,” Lucy said. “Before this John Bradley mess, I mean. I still feel terrible about that. He thought he loved me, but I only loved the house and then you. It’s almost my fault that this happened.”

Zack scowled at her. “No, it isn’t. That’s dumb. Obviously…” Then he stopped, his scowl vanishing. “Back up a minute. You said you loved me.”

“I know. Do you think I could talk Tina into getting Bradley a lawyer?”

“Not in a million years. Forget them for a minute.”

He took a deep breath. “I think we should get married. I know you think it’s too soon, but you’re wrong.”

Lucy started to say something but he stopped her. “Now just listen for a minute. There are a lot of good reasons why we should get married. For example, the dogs need a father.”

“Zack-” Lucy began.

“Hell, they’re boys. They need a male around.”

“Zack-” Lucy began again.

“Okay, okay. Here’s a good one.” Zack put his arm around her because it felt so good to have her close. For a moment, looking down into her big brown eyes disoriented him, and then he remembered what he was doing. “Where was I? Oh, right. We’re bound to make a go of it because people always work harder on their second marriages, so you’ll give it everything you’ve got. And not only that, but you’ll be comparing me to Bradley, and Lord knows I’m a step up, so you’ll think I’m terrific, which will make me happy. There’s no way we can fail.”

Lucy tried again. “I think-”

“Okay, how about this. We’re great in bed together. There’s a sure-fire guarantee for marriage- great sex.”

Lucy frowned at him. “That’s a terrible reason to get married. I think-”

Zack gave up. “Okay, forget the reasons. I love you. I’m crazy about you. I even understood why Bradley wanted to kill me, because if I’d been him, I’d have wanted to kill me, too. I want to spend the rest of my days plotting with the dogs to kill that damn cat next door, and the rest of my nights making love to you. Actually, I wouldn’t mind spending a fair part of the days making love to you, too, but that’s not logical.”

“I don’t believe in logic,” Lucy said. “I believe in love. Especially with someone who is spontaneous, irresponsible, and inappropriate.” She surveyed him critically. “That’s you.”

The relief that flooded through Zack was as intense as his amazement.

“What? When did all this happen?”

“Last night when Bradley shot out the windows and almost killed you,” Lucy said. “I thought you were dead, and it was the worst thing I could imagine.” She stopped, chilled at the thought and at how close he’d come again that afternoon, and then she went on. “And then you were all right, and that’s when I decided to marry you.”

“You did? Last night?” Zack glared at her. “Why didn’t you mention it before now? I’ve been tying myself in knots trying to figure out a way to get you to say yes.”

“Evidently,” Lucy said. “‘The dogs need a father’? That’s pathetic.”

“I was desperate,” Zack said. “I can’t believe this. You really are going to marry me? Not that you have any choice. I’m moving in anyway.”

“Yes, I will marry you,” Lucy said, and Zack said, “Damn right, you will,” and kissed her, holding her tight, until she broke the kiss, laughing and gasping for air, and then he buried his face in her coppery curls, almost paralyzed with gratitude that everything was finally all right.

“SO YOU’RE GOING TO marry a cop,” Tina said later, when Zack was gone with Anthony, and they were alone. “They have the highest divorce rate next to dentists, you know.”

“Don’t be so logical,” Lucy said.

Tina blinked.

Lucy laughed.