Getting Rid Of Bradley

Chapter Five

Lucy tried to run off her anger in the cold Saturday-morning light. After all, it was a waste of time to be angry with a man because he didn’t call or come over when he said he was going to. Men never did.

Especially men like Zack, who ran around one minute shouting, “Somebody’s trying to kill you,” and the next minute forgot you existed. If he was so worried about her being killed, why hadn’t he called all day yesterday? Him and his instincts. As Mrs. Dover would say, Ha.

She turned to jog back down her street, and when she looked up at her own house, Zack was on the front porch.

Her first thought was that he was even more magnetic than she’d remembered him. He seemed, even from a distance, to be vibrating with energy.

Her second was that her hair was probably even stranger in the daylight than it was in artificial light.

Her third, when she got closer, was that he wasn’t vibrating with energy, he was vibrating with anger. Well, the heck with him. So what if he was angry. So was she. He hadn’t called. He’d just left her there like a potted plant, and he hadn’t called. Who did he think he was? Who the heck did he think he was?

Yeah.

He came to meet her as she walked up the steps, and he looked wonderful-tall, dark, and enraged.

“You shaved.” She was still breathless from running. “And your lip looks much better. You look much more reliable.”

“Reliable? Me? What about you?” Zack stabbed his finger at her. “I told you to stay put!”

“Listen.” Lucy tried to keep an edge on her anger. It was hard because she really was glad to see him, and he really was gorgeous. She put her hands on her hips and concentrated. “Listen, you. You told me it was for one night and then you’d call. You didn’t call. Which isn’t surprising because you’re a man, and men never call, but still, in this situation, you would think…”

“I’ve been out of my mind with worry about you,” Zack said through his teeth. “I had you pictured dead in a pool of blood in front of the fireplace. And now you show up alive, and I want to kill you myself.”

“And anyway, who do you mink you are, saying ‘Stay put’ like I’m some…I don’t know…trained dog, or something.”

“I thought you were dead.” Zack grabbed her arm. “I thought somebody had grabbed you. I thought I was going to have to raise your damn dogs…”

“Why would you have to raise my dogs? I just needed exercise.” Lucy tried to tug away from him. “I ran two miles. Big deal. Let go of me.”

“My partner is next door right now, calling for help to look for your body.” Zack tightened his grip. “I’m so damn mad at you… Just…get in that house.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Lucy began, but then she stopped, distracted by the streak of yellow that blurred past her feet. “Look out, Phoebe’s loose again.”

In an instant, the cat had raced across the lawn and dived into the window of Lucy’s car.

“No!” Lucy jerked free from Zack. “That’s it. That’s the last straw.” She started across the lawn to the car, and Zack grabbed her sweatshirt and yanked her to the cold ground, falling on her as he rolled them both down the hill into Mrs. Dover’s driveway.

They landed with a thud, Lucy on the bottom, and all the breath went out of her lungs as Zack fell on top of her. “Hey,” she said, but all that came out was a whisper.

He was covering her with his body, one hand braced over her head, listening for something. He looked exactly the same as he had the day he’d flung her into the alley-the same anvil jaw, only clean-shaven now, cocked away from her at the same angle while he tensed against her.

Just like in the alley.

Lucy stopped trying to shove him off and clutched at his arms. “Zack? Was somebody shooting at you again?”

He looked down at her, focused and sharp. “I thought you said you always rolled your car windows up. Because of Phoebe.”

“I do…” Lucy began and stopped, distracted by the realization of how warm he was on top of her. “Uh, Zack…”

“They’re down now. Phoebe jumped in.”

“Big deal.” Lucy tried to shift his weight off her without enjoying it. “Maybe I forgot. You’re squashing me. Get off.”

“They were up when I left day before yesterday. And you haven’t been in the car since, right?”

Zack was almost nose-to-nose with her, his electric blue eyes staring down into her brown ones, his hand cradling her face, the weight of his body stretched warmly along the whole length of hers, and she lost the thread of her argument in the heat she was feeling everywhere. It was so unfair. He was gorgeous, he was on top of her, and he was asking her questions about a cat She might have to kill herself, after all.

“Zack.” She pushed gently at him. “Nothing is happening here. There are no gunshots. Get off me.”

She stopped when her eyes connected with his. She could feel him relax against her as his attention shifted from the car to her.

“I wouldn’t exactly say nothing is happening.” Zack smiled down at her.

“Well, nobody’s trying to kill me,” Lucy said, trying to sound reasonably calm. “Get off.”

“So you’re telling me I overreacted.” The warmth in his eyes went to her bones, and she swallowed hard.

“I know.” Lucy tried to keep her tone cool while she melted under him. “You couldn’t help yourself. It was an instinct. I forgive you. Now, get off me.”

He raised himself up on one elbow and flicked one of her curls with his ringer. “You know, in this light, your hair looks sort of…green.”

“Get off me now!” she said, and Mrs. Dover came onto her front porch and screamed, “Perverts!” at them, and Phoebe raced across Zack’s back using every claw she had for traction, and Zack yelled in pain.

And the car blew up.

“Zack!” Lucy threw her arms around him and pulled him down to her, and Mrs. Dover screamed again and fell backward into her house, and Phoebe bit high C and disappeared under the porch.

After a moment of silence, Zack raised his shoulders off Lucy and gazed cautiously over the hill at her burning car.

“Nice little bomb,” he said reflectively. “Very neat.”

Lucy eased the top of her body up, too, still under him, and watched the flames, horrified. He looked down at her, and when she turned back they were nose-to-nose.

“You okay?”

“Zack,” Lucy said. “Somebody’s trying to kill me.”

“You know,” Zack said, “I had an instinct about that.”

HALF AN HOUR LATER, Anthony sat in an overstuffed armchair between Lucy and Zack, feeling like a tennis ref.

“Okay,” Zack said from where he stood in front of the fireplace. “One more time. How long were you gone?”

Lucy leaned back against the love seat. “I told you. I just ran two miles. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. I didn’t check the clock when I left.”

“That’s not enough time.” Anthony said. “In broad daylight, with a delayed fuse? And no one saw him? Face it, Zack. It doesn’t matter when she ran. He must have set this up last night.” He turned back to Lucy. “Do you remember if the windows were up or down when you left to ran?”

“Zack already asked me that. I didn’t pay any attention. I didn’t even notice the windows when I came back until Phoebe jumped inside the car.” She stopped again. “That was such a nice car. It’s totaled, right?”

Zack smacked his hand on the mantel from exasperation. “Lucy, you dummy, this was a bomb, not a rear-end collision!”

Lucy looked back at him, just as exasperated. “Well, it’s totally destroyed, right? Which means it’s totaled, right? What are you so mad at me for? And don’t call me a dummy, either, you…you…” She blinked.

“Listen, lady…” Zack began, stabbing his finger at her.

“Okay, children, that’s enough,” Anthony said. “Fight on your own time. We’ve got a serious problem here.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said to him. “I’m usually not this rude. It’s just Zack. He brings out the worst in me.”

“That’s good to know,” Zack said. “I’d hate to think this was your best.”

“I beg your pardon,” Lucy said.

“Zack, shut up.” Anthony turned to Lucy and smiled. It was a great smile, his sure-you-can-trust-me smile, and Lucy smiled back.

Zack glowered at both of them.

“Now look, Lucy,” Anthony went on. “I know Zack didn’t call you, and that was wrong.” Zack started to say something, and Anthony shot him a warning glance that was pure venom. Zack shut up, and Anthony returned to his persuasion. “That won’t happen again. I promise. The important thing is that now mat we know for sure that somebody is trying to hurt you, we have to get serious about this. What we’d like to do -with your permission, of course- is put you in a hotel…”

“No,” Lucy said.

“I told you so.” Zack looked at Lucy. “You’re either going to a hotel or to your sister’s and that’s that. No arguments. Get your stuff.”

“No,” Lucy said.

“I’ll look after the dogs,” Zack said. “Get your stuff.”

“You won’t remember,” Lucy said.

“Of course, I’ll remember. Get your stuff.”

“Like you remembered to call me? No.”

“Lucy!” Zack loomed over her.

“Forget it. I’m not leaving my dogs.” She turned to Anthony. “How long would I be in this hotel? Two days? A week? A month?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I think we can solve this within the week, but I can’t promise you.”

Lucy shook her head. “I can’t leave them. They wouldn’t understand. And what if this man decides to get me by burning the house down? They trust me to take care of them. I’m not stupid. I know I’m in danger, and I’m scared, but I’m not leaving them.”

“Then we’ll have to put somebody here with you,” Anthony said.

“No,” Zack said.

“Fine,” Lucy said.

“We’re shorthanded.” Anthony stood. “I think I can get Sergeant Eliot-”

“Are you crazy?” Zack said. “Eliot is sixty-four, legally blind, and waiting for retirement Lucy would have to protect him.”

“Your other choice is Matthews,” Anthony said. “And we’ll have the patrol cars keep an eye-”

“Who’s Matthews?” Zack asked.

“The tall blond one you keep calling Junior,” Anthony said. “Stop doing that, by the way. It annoys him. Anyway, he’s young, strong, and he’s got 20/20 vision. Happy?”

“No.” Zack searched for a good reason why. “He’s young. He’s new. He doesn’t know…”

“Great,” Anthony said, a savage edge creeping into his voice. “You want somebody not too old, not too young, who knows. That leaves us with a middle-aged cop with experience. The only one of those available is you. Are you volunteering?”

Zack looked first at Lucy and then at Anthony, and said, “Yes. Watch her while I go get my stuff. And by the way, I am not middle-aged.”

“What?” Lucy said.

“You’re kidding,” Anthony said. “I thought you were hot on the trail of Bradley the embezzler.”

“I think the trail’s here. When I get back, we’re going to search this place.”

“I thought you needed a warrant for that,” Lucy said.

“Not if the home owner gives us permission.” Anthony tried to signal Zack to shut up, with no success. Zack ignored him.

“And you’re going to give us permission because I just saved your life,” Zack said.

“You did not…” Lucy began. “Oh. I guess you did.”

“Right. Remember that.” Zack turned back to Anthony. “I’ll be back in half an hour. Watch her every minute so she doesn’t leave again. She has no survival instincts.”

When Zack was gone, Anthony smiled at Lucy. “He means well. He just has no tact.”

Lucy bit her lip. “I’m not stupid. I just didn’t believe him when he said somebody was trying to kill me.”

“That’s all right. I didn’t, either. It’s the most annoying thing I know about Zack. He makes these stupid assumptions, and then he turns out to be right. Fortunately, he’s also a great guy. You just have to get used to him.”

“Oh, I could get used to him,” Lucy said. Anthony heard a note of wistful enthusiasm in her voice and sank back down into the big soft chair again as she went on. “I just don’t know why he’s always grabbing me and yelling at me. I’m a very calm, logical, unemotional person. It really isn’t necessary.”

Anthony nodded. “He worries about you.”

Lucy bunked and Anthony sat back and thought, I wonder if Zack has noticed that she blinks every time she thinks of something she can’t say aloud. I bet he has.

I bet he’s noticed just about everything about her.

“He didn’t even call yesterday,” Lucy went on. “He forgot me. He put me in this house, and then he forgot me.”

Anthony shook his head. “No, he didn’t. We had some problems yesterday. Big ones. A woman was shot” He watched her closely as she flinched at the news.

“That’s awful.”

“It was. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen Zack look worried.”

“Why?”

“He thought it was you.”

“Oh.” Lucy blinked again.

Bingo. She was a darling, and she liked Zack. If Zack moved in with her for a month, he’d be a goner, and Anthony could stop worrying about him. It was perfect, although he might have to start hiding evidence to keep Zack there for that long.

Now all he had to do was convince Lucy.

“You know, Zack really needs to solve this case,” Anthony said. “He’s been depressed lately, even thinking about quitting the force. If he could just relax a little, it would do him a world of good. Moving in with you for a while may be just the thing he needs. A calm, secure environment to grow up in.”

Lucy grinned. “You make him sound like a foster child.”

“That’s pretty much the way I think of him. And by the way, I know he’s obnoxious, but please don’t hit him again. He’s still got a concussion from the last time.”

“He does?” Lucy said, appalled. “He told me he wasn’t hurt.”

“Well, he thinks he’s Superman. Take care of him.”

Lucy looked at him suspiciously on his last remark, but he smiled back at her, as artless and open as the sun, and finally, she smiled, too.

“All right,” she said.

Anthony’s smile widened.

All right.

ZACK DUMPED HIS BAG on the quilt-covered spool bed in the attic bedroom. The ceiling was slung low and canted under the eaves, the wallpaper was scattered with tiny yellow flowers, and the little windows at the end of the room were patterned with diamond panes. “This is a great room,” he told Lucy, who’d followed him up the stairs. “If you had any sense, you’d be sleeping up here.”

Lucy took an extra blanket from the closet and draped it over the end of the bed. “I know. I wanted to put our bedroom up here, but Bradley said the one downstairs was bigger.”

Zack felt the same spurt of annoyance he was beginning to feel every time Lucy mentioned Bradley in the same breath with herself. “Why’d you listen to him?”

“Well, it was going to be his bedroom, too,” Lucy said, and Zack felt really annoyed.

He opened a drawer, unzipped his bag, and upended it into the drawer to unpack it. “Bradley is an idiot.”

Lucy shrugged. “Not really. It is warmer downstairs. You have to leave the door to the stairs open at night or this place gets really cold.”

Zack stopped trying to shove everything into the drawer. “How do you know?”

“I started sleeping up here in October. Bradley and I…had a disagreement.”

“Good for you.” Zack felt much better, and then he felt like a fool for feeling much better. Aside from that flash of lust he’d given in to in the driveway, he had no interest in this woman besides a passing sense of responsibility. All he had to do was find out what was in her damn house, get rid of it, and possibly arrest her ex-husband for attempted murder. Then he’d never have to see her again.

Lucy brushed against his arm as she moved beside him to spread his shirts evenly into the drawer. She smelled faintly of flowers and warmth.

Never seeing her again suddenly didn’t have much appeal.

He left the drawer open and stepped away from her. “Let’s start searching this place. Where’s the best place to start?”

“I threw all of Bradley’s stuff into the basement,” Lucy said, shoving the drawer closed. “You probably want that first.”

“Threw? Literally?”

“I stood at the top of the stairs and pitched it. It felt wonderful.”

Zack grinned at her suddenly, and Lucy looked startled. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“Naw. I just thought you were dead, and it threw me for a minute.”

“A minute?” Lucy said. “That’s all?”

“Well, then you showed up and the car exploded. I haven’t had much time to dwell on things lately.” Zack took her shoulders and turned her toward the stairs.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the basement, so I can solve this case, and you can get rid of me.”

LUCY FELT GUILTY when Zack whistled at the wreckage at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll pick it up.” She started past him, and he grabbed her arm.

“Look out. The stair rail’s gone.”

“I know. The chair fell through it.”

“The chair?”

“The chair I shoved down here.” Lucy peered cautiously over the broken rail. “See? It sort of rolled to the right, back there.”

“You threw a chair down these stairs?”

“I felt like it. Are we going down there or not?”

“Stay close to the wall, behind me.” Zack went down the stairs. “Don’t fall over the edge, or I’ll be picking splinters out of you for a week.”

Lucy put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You know, I’m not helpless.”

Zack ignored her. He dragged the smashed cartons into the middle of the basement and shoved the chair upright. “Nice chair.”

“No, it’s not.” Lucy followed him down the stairs cautiously. “It’s ugly.”

“That’s just the upholstery. Cover that up and it’s a good chair.”

“It’s too big.”

“It’s a man’s chair.” Zack deepened his voice. “A manly chair for a manly man.”

“It was Bradley’s.”

Zack shrugged. “Okay, so it’s not that great. Are these all the boxes?”

“Just those three. And there’s nothing in them. I packed them up so I know. Just papers and junk.”

“Papers? I love papers. Do these papers have numbers on them?” Zack sat down on the floor next to the first box and pried at the layers of tape that sealed it. “Did you seal these for life? There must be twenty pounds of tape here.”

“I was a little enthusiastic.” Lucy turned back to the stairs. “Let me get a knife.”

“Good. Get me a beer while you’re at it.”

Lucy stopped halfway up the stairs. “I don’t have any beer.”

“Yes, you do. It’s in your refrigerator. I put it there myself. Can you cook Mexican?”

“I suppose,” Lucy said coldly. “Why?”

“I got some stuff when I picked up the beer on the way here. Nachos, olives, cheese, that kind of stuff.” Zack continued to poke at the box while he spoke, missing Lucy’s frown. “I figured you could cook. You look like the type. Could I have that knife, please?”

Right between your ribs, Lucy thought and blinked. Then she turned and went upstairs to get him his knife and beer.

Two hours later, they’d looked at every piece of paper and book in Bradley’s boxes and hadn’t found a clue.

“Half of this stuff is years old.” Zack sat on the floor by the stairs and stared at the mess. “Doesn’t he ever throw anything out?”

“I guess not.” Lucy threw the last of the papers back in the box. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it? All his personal papers are business papers.”

Zack frowned at her. “Don’t start feeling sorry for him. He’s a rat.”

“Well, he wasn’t always a rat.”

“Oh, yeah. What was he?” Zack leaned back against the stairs and watched her. “What do you know about him? Where did he come from?”

Lucy sat down on one of the boxes. “I don’t know much. He’s from a little town in Pennsylvania called Beulah Ridge. It’s on the high-school yearbook in that box there beside you. His parents are both dead, and he hasn’t been back in years. We had a very small wedding, and Bradley didn’t invite more than two or three people, and he said none of them would be able to make it. It was just my parents and Tina and some friends from school.”

“Who did he send wedding invitations to?”

Lucy frowned, trying to remember. “I think a couple of friends from high school. Not family. And anyway, he was right. Nobody showed up that he invited. It was sad, really, but he didn’t seem to mind. Anyway, after the wedding, we just settled in here. He worked at the bank, and I taught school, and Maxwell and Heisenberg moved in. And then the blonde showed up, and he moved out, and we got divorced, and you mugged me in an alley.” She shrugged. “It’s never going to make a Movie of the Week, but that was my life.”

Zack snorted. “Bradley is a rat.”

“Oh, not entirely. He was really very nice to me for most of our marriage.”

Zack looked at her skeptically. “Then why did you move upstairs in October?”

“He snored.”

“Right.” Zack turned back to the boxes to pull the yearbook out again.

“Why doesn’t anybody ever believe that?” Lucy asked.

“Because no man in his right mind would let you out of his bed for that.” Zack flipped through the book. “Is this his high-school yearbook?”

“Yes,” Lucy said faintly.

“ John Bradley the embezzler taught high school in California,” Zack said absently, as he flipped to the senior portrait section. “High-school phys ed. That was his downfall.”

“What do you mean, ‘downfall’?”

“He seduced a cheerleader.” Zack ran his finger down the page. “Knocked her up.”

Lucy’s head jerked up. “That’s awful! He should be in jail.”

“I think so, too.” His finger stopped on one picture. “Of course, I also want him there for embezzlement But he paid in his own way.”

“He must have lost his job. School administrators can be really good at ignoring anything ugly, but in this case…”

“Oh, yeah, he lost his job. But the best part is, the girl’s family was really powerful. A bunch of very big guys with very big bank accounts and very big shotguns. They probably could have killed him and gotten away with it, except there was Bianca with a baby on the way, so they did the next best thing. They got him a job in a bank and made him marry her.”

Lucy winced. “How awful for her. That’s barbaric.”

Zack snorted. “More than you know. I’ve talked to Bianca on the phone, and she is not a pleasant person. I almost felt sorry for John Bradley. I personally would have told Daddy to go ahead and shoot me rather than spend a week with her, let alone six years, but then Bradley and I are different.”

“You certainly are.” Lucy blushed when Zack looked up. “I mean, I can’t imagine you seducing a teenager.”

“Well, I tried hard enough when I was a teenager. I just never had much luck. My technique needed work.” He turned back to stare at the picture in the yearbook.

It doesn’t anymore, Lucy thought. Then she mentally shook herself. The moon must be full or something. Maybe she was ovulating, although she usually didn’t get this crazy. As a matter of fact, she’d never been this crazy. Maybe she’d just reached that mid-thirties plateau where a woman’s sexual desire was supposed to peak. Just her luck, she was peaking and here came Zack.

Of course, the real problem wasn’t that he turned her on. The real problem was that she liked being with him. She felt good around him. Happy. Warm.

Really warm.

Hot.

Okay, the other part of the real problem was that he turned her on.

“He doesn’t look like a crook,” Zack said suddenly.

“Who?”

“Porter. Your ex.”

Zack shoved the yearbook in front of her, his finger pointing to a picture on a senior gallery page. “He looks like an amoeba.”

“They all do. They’re so young.” Lucy looked down at her ex-husband, frozen forever at eighteen. He was as classically good-looking back then as he was now, but he was also as stiff and dull, too. “Poor Bradley.”

“Stop feeling sorry for him.” Zack took the yearbook back and leafed through it again. “He’s implicated in a major crime.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. He got a hotel room in Overlook. A woman was found shot there today. We don’t have any proof that he did it, but we’d like to talk to him.”

“You think Bradley shot somebody?” Lucy shook her head. “No. He’s not violent.”

“How do you know he’s not violent? He’s a rat, possibly an embezzler, and definitely a seducer of blondes. You found one in your living room, remember?”

“Not a chance.” Lucy’s voice was firm. “A rat, maybe, but not a seducer of blondes. The blonde must have seduced him. Bradley just wasn’t that interested in sex.”

Zack flipped back a page in the yearbook. “Bradley is an idiot.”

“Of course, maybe it was just me.”

“It wasn’t you.”

Lucy started at the warmth in his voice, but his attention was suddenly riveted to the yearbook. “I’ll be damned,” he said. “I will be damned.”

“What?”

He shoved the book in front of her and pointed to a picture near the bottom of the page. The boy in the picture was good-looking in a sly way.

“I’ve seen that smile on kids before,” Lucy said. “I bet he was a cheat.”

“No kidding. Look at the name.” He pointed again and Lucy read the legend underneath.

Most Likely To Succeed John Talbot Bradley