Getting Rid Of Bradley

Chapter Eight

Zack sat up in bed and turned on the light when he heard her on the stairs, so his shoulders were naked in the lamplight when Lucy saw him. He stood out in sharp relief against the yellow-flowered wallpaper, the definition of his muscles a hard contrast to the softness of the flowers behind him and the quilt rumpled over him. His dark hair was tousled and his eyes heavy-lidded, and Lucy stopped, frozen both by how beautiful he was and by how much she wanted him. Her need choked her, pressed on her so heavily that she couldn’t breathe, and she leaned in the doorway and breathed him in instead of air.

“Lucy?” he said, and she found herself floating toward him, drawn by the energy he radiated, feeling at once both suffused with desire and liquid with heat.

She sank onto the bed beside him, trying to find the right words, any words, but there was so much heat in her that she couldn’t speak. She pushed herself through layers of air with only Zack’s warmth to guide her to him, so that she was almost surprised when her lips touched his. It was like finding him underwater or in the dark, she’d had to penetrate so much to get to him.

She moved her lips softly against his, feeling the heat there, and then tasted him cautiously with her tongue while he sat, stunned. He was nectar and ambrosia and everything she’d read about; forbidden fruit and lotus, too. She kissed him again, this time falling against him with her lips parted, her tongue slipping inside his mouth to the hot sweetness there, and now, suddenly, he was kissing her back, his hands moving to pull her hard against him, the pressure of his body fining her with such heat and need that she clawed at his shoulders and bit his lip. Then he rolled with her until she was pinned under him, straining against his weight, and he pulled her robe from her shoulders, biting kisses down her neck while his hands pulled her frantically to him again, flesh to flesh, and she cried out first at the heat in him, and then, gratefully, at the sweet roughness of his mouth on her swollen breast.

Zack touched her the way she’d fantasized, with the same intensity that he lived every minute. His mouth and hands were everywhere, hot on her skin, now light, now rough, until she writhed against him and forgot to feel anything but need and heat and touched him with a hunger that she’d never conceived possible before. He tormented her with his tongue and fingers until she moaned from the frustration and the pleasure. He devoured her with his eyes, his hands, his mouth, intense and focused on her, all laughter gone as he concentrated the entire force of everything he was on loving her.

And when he slid his fingers inside her, she cried out, opening her eyes suddenly to see him staring at her, his eyes electric with desire for her. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are. I can’t believe how hot you are.”

His whole body was tense, rigid with control as he moved against her, and she moved against him, too, relishing his hardness against her softness. Her tongue traced his muscles, and he shuddered under her touch and forced her mouth up to his, crushing her lips against his while he stroked inside her mouth with his tongue. Lucy writhed under the twin tortures of his hands and his mouth, needing him so much now that she finally broke away from his kiss and sobbed aloud.

“Now,” she said wildly, pulling his hips to her. “Now. I want you inside me, now,” and he kissed her again, swift and hard, and then moved away from her.

“No,” she said, and he ran his hand up her body to caress her breast again. “Wait,” he said. “Just for a minute. I promise you.”

She saw him roll over to sit on the edge of the bed, and she reached for him, dragging her fingernails down his back, luxuriating in the shudder it drew from him. She’d never felt so powerful in all her life or so alive, every cell in her body swollen with desire. Then Zack turned back again and pulled her to him and kissed her, tolling so she was beneath him. Lucy arched her hips to his, and then he slid slowly inside her, and she lost her mind.

She arched up once, sharply, galvanized by the shock of him so hard inside her, bringing sweet relief and tormenting pleasure at the same time, and then she began to surge against him, over and over, again and again, out of control as he moved against her, inside her, over and over, again and again, holding her so tightly that she felt both safe and destroyed at the same time, the tormenting rhythm of him in her driving her beyond pleasure into ecstasy. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to bring him closer, to hold him forever so that the feeling would never stop, and he laced his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back to face him as he rocked inside her.

“You’re amazing,” he breathed and kissed her, biting her lip, licking his tongue into her mouth as he rolled over, pulling her on top of him, holding her to him as he rocked up into her, and she felt suffocated by the sweet pressure inside her, her blood screaming and hot and swelling in her veins until she exploded in his arms, locked there while her orgasm surged into her fingertips and sent her mind into oblivion.

Then she lay gasping, feeling the pounding of her blood in her temples and in her swollen fingers, and the hot hard core of her diffusing into warmth and joy. He still moved against her, and as she eased back into reality, she was caught and warmed in the ebb and flow of him in her, and then she felt him tense hard in her arms and moan into her hair, and then they were both quiet, clinging to each other.

“I didn’t know,” Lucy said finally, when her heart had stopped pounding, her voice muffled against his chest. “I didn’t know there was this.”

“That makes two of us,” Zack whispered, and his arms tightened around her. “Wait.” He eased himself out of her, and she made a small sound of protest. “I know,” he said softly, and then he turned away again to get rid of the condom. He pulled the sheet up over her where she lay tumbled on the bed, and then slid in beside her, pulling the comforter over both of them. “Next time,” he said, his voice soft with exhaustion, “we’ll go slower. We got a little crazed there. I wanted you so much, but I wasn’t expecting you, and then when I got you, I wasn’t expecting you to be like this.” He kissed her and laughed softly into her hair. “I thought you were a good girl.”

“I am.” Lucy fought the sex-drugged sleep she was falling into. “You corrupted me. I thought I was going to die if I didn’t have you. I couldn’t have waited any longer.”

“Thank God, you didn’t. I was so nuts I was having fantasies about making love to you on third base.”

“What?” Lucy said, losing her fight to stay awake.

“Go to sleep,” he said and kissed her again before he fell asleep himself, his cheek pressed against her hair.

Zack, Lucy thought as she, too, sank into sleep. This feels so good.

I had no idea.

WHEN ZACK WOKE UP the next morning, he was alone, bathed in the honeyed glow of the sunlight bouncing off the yellow walls. For a moment, he wondered if he’d dreamed the whole thing, but then he knew it had to be real. He could never have fantasized that calm, sensible Lucy could make love like that.

It must have been real.

Which meant he was in a lot more trouble than he’d realized. This was the first time his reality had ever been better than his fantasy. He’d found the perfect woman living in a great house with three dumb dogs. The smartest thing to do would be to run.

The smell of bacon frying wafted up to him. Breakfast. He had a sudden picture of Lucy in the kitchen, talking to the dogs. The same sunlight that was warming him would be filtering through the front windows, making shadow patterns through the lace curtains. The paper would be on the front porch, and the dogs would be ready for a morning run in the backyard.

It was all calm and quiet and regular and routine, everything he’d never wanted; and now he wanted it and Lucy, too, but most of all just Lucy, blinking at him, and telling him he wasn’t logical, and rolling hot in his arms.

It was what he wanted forever.

What do you know? he thought, amazed, and, trusting his instincts as he had all his life, he surrendered without a qualm. So this is it. I never thought it would happen, but this is it. Responsibility. Adulthood. Dogs.

Lucy.

LUCY WAS STANDING AT the counter, blotting bacon on paper towels and trying to get her thoughts in order, when Zack walked up behind her and put his arms around her, pulling her close. She melted into him, instantly flooded with warmth and happiness, tipping her head back so that he could bend down and kiss her. Then she turned around in his arms so she could snuggle closer to him.

“No regrets?” he whispered into her hair.

“Of course not.” She tilted her face up to smile at him. “You are a wonderful lover.”

He smiled down at her. “I’d be a wonderful husband, too.”

Her smile vanished. “What?”

“I think we should get married.”

Lucy went cold with panic.

Married? After five days? She hadn’t even been divorced three weeks.

Married? With her instincts for men? With her amazing ineptitude at understanding people?

Married? With all her talk about independence and freedom and…

Married?

“No.” Lucy pulled away.

“Wait a minute.” Zack pulled her back. “The ‘No’ was bad enough. Don’t stop touching me, too.”

Lucy relaxed against him again, but not with the same melting openness as earlier. “I’m sorry. You surprised me. Thank you very much for asking. That was very gentlemanly.”

Zack scowled at her. “No, it wasn’t. That was for me. I like it here. I want to stay.”

“So stay. I like having you here. I just don’t want to get married again.”

Zack’s scowl deepened. “What ‘again’? This would be like a first time. You’ve never married me before. I’m not like Bradley.”

Lucy smiled up at him. “That’s for sure.” His scowl disappeared, and then she added, “But I’m still not marrying you. It would be totally illogical. I’ve only known you five days.”

“Five incredible days,” Zack prompted. “Six, counting today. Admit it. Your life is a lot more exciting since I showed up.” His eyes slid away from hers. “Is that pan supposed to be smoking?”

“I don’t think you can take credit for the car blowing up.” Lucy drew away from him to rescue the bacon.

“Well, there have been other exciting moments. I can think of several from last night alone. Hey, don’t touch that. You’ll burn yourself.” He took the pan from her. “Ouch!”

“Run cold water over it.” Lucy took the pan back and turned on the water.

“How come I’m always trying to take care of you, and you end up taking care of me?” Zack stuck his hand under the water.

Lucy began to fork the bacon out of the pan onto paper towels. “I think it’s mostly mutual. I bet if we really analyzed it, it would come out about equal.”

Zack stopped buttering. “You think?”

“Yep. Omelet’s in the microwave.”

Zack opened the door and peered inside. “We’ve got to get married. I love living like this.” Lucy looked at him, exasperated. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Sit down and eat your omelet.”

THE MARRIAGE QUESTION put a damper on breakfast They’d moved from loving warmth to polite chill in the space of five seconds, and there were no signs of a warming trend.

The rest of the morning went downhill from there.

“I’m going back in to school next Monday,” Lucy said after breakfast.

“No, you’re not.” Zack studied the kitchen floor. “I think this gunk will come up if we keep soaking it with soap and water. You got another bucket?”

“Zack, listen to me.” She waited until his eyes drifted up from the floor, and then she spoke slowly and distinctly. “I cannot stay inside this house forever. I have to go back to work.”

“No.”

“Listen, you,” Lucy exploded. “You can say no all you want. I’m going back to work next Monday and there’s nothing you can do about it. You have the rest of this week to get used to the idea, and you’d better do it because on Monday, I am out of here.”

“Not a good idea,” Zack said, and Lucy gave a smothered scream of exasperation and stalked out of the kitchen.

“Women are so emotional,” Zack said to the dogs. “What do you think about this floor?”

AT TEN, ANTHONY dropped by, and Zack forgot the floor.

“Bradley Porter’s using his credit cards,” he told Zack when he answered the door. He walked into the living room and smiled when Lucy came into the room through the dining-room archway. “Hello, Luce,” he said and Lucy went to him and hugged him.

“What is this?” Zack said. “Unhand that woman.”

Anthony turned back to him, one arm still around Lucy. “So, you coming with me? We have to move on this. There’s a patrol car out in front to watch the place while we’re gone. Lucy will be fine.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Lucy said, pulling away from Anthony. “I’ve been here since Thursday. I’m going stir-crazy. At least take me with you.”

“Not a chance.” Zack grabbed his jacket. “Bradley’s been shooting people. I’m not taking you into that.”

“Which Bradley, yours or mine?”

Zack shrugged into his jacket. “You don’t have a Bradley. Remember that. Come on, Tony.”

Lucy put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Don’t you think you should narrow down who you’re chasing before you go charging off like this?”

“We’ll argue about it when I get back.” Zack started for the front door, and Anthony kissed Lucy on the cheek. Zack backtracked, grabbed his arm, and pushed him toward the door. “Why don’t you cook dinner for a change?” he said to Lucy on his way out.

Lucy leaned against the back of one of her overstuffed chairs, defeated. “I’ll order a pizza,” she said, and Zack stopped and said, “No, you won’t. I haven’t gone through all of this to get you wasted by a pizza delivery man.” He followed Anthony out the front door, and Lucy felt like killing him.

“Maybe Phoebe will get him again,” she told the dogs, and then the door opened again.

“I almost forgot,” Zack said, and grabbed her and kissed her, bending her back over the chair in his enthusiasm. She clutched at him to keep from falling, and that relaxed into his kiss, relieved that he was kissing her again and reveling in his heat. “I will definitely be back,” he said to her and kissed her again, pulled her back upright and left.

“Oh, good,” she said, but he was already gone.

By noon, the silence had gotten to Lucy.

She’d made a big pot of vegetable soup, and talked to the dogs, and turned on the radio, but the silence was still there, even though there was enough racket for anybody.

There was nobody talking to her.

It had never bothered her before. But now, after days of Zack’s constant rambling, it made the house seem empty.

“It’s not like he’s not coming back,” she told the dogs. “Actually, I don’t think it’s him at all. I think it’s just that I haven’t been out of this house for days. I need to get out.”

She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the fireplace. Her hair was even shaggier than before. She looked awful.

“I could go out and get my hair fixed.” Even as she said the words, she knew she would. It was too awful not to. And how many people got killed in beauty parlors, anyway?

The dogs looked skeptical.

“This is so ridiculous,” she told them. “People Wowing up my car and shooting at me. This makes no sense. I’m going out.”

LUCY WAS CAREFUL. She called a cab to pick her up three houses down so that the patrol car out front and any miscellaneous killers lurking around wouldn’t know she was gone. She felt guilty about the patrol car, but she was tired of arguing with policemen. Granted, Zack was probably the worst of the bunch, but she was fairly sure that the one in the patrol car wouldn’t be any more understanding.

And she left a note for Zack, so if he came home early he wouldn’t panic. “Dear Zack,” she wrote. “I can’t stand the thought of you waking up to see my hair like this anymore so I’m getting it fixed. And I’ll get something for dinner, too. Don’t go to bed without me. Lucy.” Then she stuck it on the mantel where anyone coming into the room would see it.

She just hoped that anyone was Zack. If it was Anthony she was going to be embarrassed.

LUCY ASKED THE CABBIE to recommend a good beautician, and he dropped her at a dingy strip mall paneled in peeling redwood and rusted chrome. It had a bar, a convenience store, a drugstore, a secondhand clothing shop, and a beauty parlor. The basics.

The beauty parlor was Thelma and Lou’s.

It was dim inside the pink-and-orange salon, so it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the light and to the young amazon who walked forward to meet her.

“Hiya,” the girl said and cracked her gum, and Lucy’s eyes swept up, startled, to her hair.

It was purple, shaved at the sides, and gelled until it stood straight up. Since the girl must have been close to six foot before the hair, the effect was riveting. So riveting that the nose ring and the skull tattoo on her chest were hardly noticeable.

“Are you Thelma or Lou?” Lucy asked, unable to take her eyes off all that purple hair.

“I’m Chantel.” The girl stared at Lucy’s hair, fascinated. “Thelma and Lou are in Florida. Like, permanently. What can I do for ya? As if I didn’t know already. Jeez.”

Her own eyes still fixed on Chantel’s hair, Lucy said, “I have a hair problem.”

“No kidding.” Chantel cracked her gum again. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

They had to look like Harpo Marx meets the Bride of Frankenstein on a bad color TV. Lucy started to laugh.

“Well, at least you still got your sense of humor,” Chantel said. “So, you want me to fix you or not?”

“I don’t know. Do you have any experience fixing this kind of mistake?” Lucy touched her hair and it crackled under her fingertips.

“I don’t, have any experience at all. I just got out of beauty school yesterday.” Chantel cracked her gum and smiled cheerfully. “If you don’t want to take a chance, it’s okay. I mean, somebody obviously did a number on you once. Why take a chance again?”

Chantel’s smile was as open and honest as a child’s, which Lucy knew was no reason for her to put her already ravaged head into her hands.

Or maybe it was.

“Somebody did do a number on me,” Lucy agreed. “I ended up with the most awful bleach job you’ve ever seen. And then I tried to fix it with shampoo-in color, but that didn’t work.”

Chantel looked at her hair again and nodded. “That explains the green.”

Lucy took a deep breath. “Can you fix this?”

Chantel looked cautious. “I can try. You sure you don’t want to try one of those big places downtown?”

Lucy hesitated. “Yes. Yes, I’m definitely sure. What are we going to do first?”

Chantel’s eyes narrowed, and she became all business. “Condition. We’re gonna megacondition that mess and hope it doesn’t fall out from relief.”

Lucy swallowed. “And then?”

“A cut. Real short to cover up the breakage. And some color. I suppose you want brown or something.”

“Brown.” Lucy looked up at Chantel’s purple hair and swallowed again. “No, not brown. That’s not me. I’m the spontaneous, independent type.”

Chantel cracked her gum. “Oh, yeah. I could tell that right off.”

THE HOTEL ROOM WAS generic: bad paintings, worn green carpeting, tan flowered bedspread, and beige curtains at the sliding-glass doors.

Unfortunately, it was also clean. One of the Bradleys had checked out four hours earlier.

“The desk clerk recognized John Bradley’s picture but not Bradley Porter’s. So John Bradley was here using Porter’s credit cards.” Anthony surveyed the spotless hotel room. “Bradley Porter was probably never here. This makes no sense. This should be such a simple case. We have Porter’s credit-card numbers. We have his house. We have his ex-wife.”

Zack started guiltily.

“So why don’t we have him?” Anthony went on, tactfully ignoring him. “Why hasn’t anyone seen him? If he’s innocent, why can’t the Kentucky cops find him? If he’s guilty, why did he give John Bradley his credit cards? I don’t get this.”

“We’re not going to find anything here,” Zack said. “It’s got to be the house. Although I’m telling you, there are no government bonds there. I even took up the kitchen floor, which is the only floor that’s not plain hardwood. If something’s there, it’s small.” He folded his arms and sat down on the chipped edge of the desk. “You know, Bradley Porter’s a banker. He wouldn’t keep bonds in his house. Not for more than a night, anyway. What do you think?”

“A safe-deposit box,” Anthony said. “I thought of that. I asked at Gamble Hills. No dice. He doesn’t have one.”

“There are other banks.”

“Almost a hundred. Talk about hopeless. There’s no guarantee he’s using his name. And we’ll need some specifics to get a warrant. Any other ideas?”

“Find the key and work from there. Which means, back to Lucy’s.”

Anthony looked around the room again and gave up. “Fine. Let’s go back and look again. This place has been wiped so clean, we’ll never find anything here anyway.”

“Let me call Lucy first.” Zack picked up the phone on the desk beside him and dialed. “We may need groceries.”

“Groceries?” Anthony looked confused. “You do groceries now?”

“Hey, I’ve changed. I’ve matured.”

“What do groceries have to do with maturing?” Anthony asked and then stopped when he saw Zack’s face change. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s not answering.” Zack let it ring a few more times before he slammed the phone down. “If she’s out running again, I’m going to kill her. Let’s go.”

“She wouldn’t be that dumb,” Anthony began and then stopped when he realized the alternative. “Then again, she might,” he said, and they both ran for the elevator.

THREE HOURS LATER, Lucy paid off her cab and climbed the steps to her house. Just as she was fishing for her key in her purse, a young patrolman came to the door and looked her up and down, smiling in appreciation.

“Can I help you?” he said.

“Yes,” Lucy said. “We’ve met. Your name is Matthews, but Zack calls you Junior, and this is my house. Let me in. What is this, anyway?”

Matthews stepped back immediately to let her in. “Boy, are we glad to see you. We were about ready to drag the river.”

An older patrolman was on the phone, but he stopped and squinted when he saw Lucy. “Didn’t you use to be blond?”

“Don’t remind me,” Lucy said. “Do I know you?”

“Forget it. We’re done. She’s here,” the older man said into the phone and hung up. “I’m Falk. You sent us after Warren a couple days ago, remember?”

“Oh.” Lucy winced. “I’m sorry about that. What’s going on here?”

Falk grinned. “ Warren couldn’t find you. It upset him. So we only got most of the force looking for your body.”

“Oh, no,” Lucy wailed. “I left a note. Why doesn’t he read notes?”

“Go get Warren,” Falk said to Matthews. “Let’s put him out of his misery.”

ZACK WHISTLED TO BRING the dogs in and headed through the kitchen to the living room, trying not to think the worst. She could be anywhere. Except with Tina, who was making plans to have Riverbend dismantled brick by brick until she found her sister. Or at her parents, who were annoyed because he had bothered them without any concrete reason.

Or here.

He walked into the dining room with Einstein on his heels and found Junior practically drooling over a strange redhead. She was cute, Zack thought absently, her head haloed in short, bright, coppery curls, but she wasn’t Lucy, and Lucy was all he wanted right now.

Then she turned, and it was Lucy.

“Where in the hell have you been?” He surged toward her, relief supercharging his anger.

“I left a note.” Lucy glared at him. “And I told you before, you can’t just put me down someplace and tell me to stay. Why did you cause all this fuss?”

“Why did I cause all this fuss?” Zack threw up his hands, speechless for a moment. “Well, to begin with, there wasn’t any note. None. Trust me. We have been over this place inch by inch. Looking for your body, bloodstains, anything. There was no note.”

“Well, I left one.” Lucy folded her arms in front of her. “You know, Zack, you’ve got to stop overreacting like this.”

“Overreacting? Overreacting?” He stepped in front of her until they were nose-to-nose. “Lucy, somebody could be trying to kill you.”

She stepped back. “No. That’s not…”

“Then who blew up your car? Heisenberg?”

“There’s no need to be insulting,” Lucy said, and Anthony walked in.

“She’s not…” Anthony began and stopped. “Lucy?” He squinted his eyes at her. “Is that you?”

“Well, of course, it’s me,” Lucy said. Anthony let out a healthy sigh of relief. “Sony, the hair threw me. You look great, by the way.” He looked from her to Zack and back again and grinned. “So I guess this means we can assume you weren’t kidnapped?”

“Of course, I wasn’t kidnapped,” Lucy said and Zack said, “There’s no ‘of course’ about it, damn it.”

Falk shook his head and turned to go. “I already called off the search,” he said on his way out “Come on, Junior.”

Matthews scowled at him but went. Anthony turned back to Lucy. “We’re all going to go now. Glad to see you safe, Lucy. Don’t ever do that again. Zack, we’ll try that search tomorrow.”

He kissed Lucy on the cheek and walked out the door, visibly relieved.

“We need to talk,” Zack snarled, and Lucy threw her purse on the table and went into the kitchen.

I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS, Lucy thought as she banged the soup pot on the stove. I get my hair done, and he calls out the army. Honestly.

She flipped the burner on under the pot and turned to see Zack standing in the doorway, scowling at her.

“I was careful,” she said, tossing her potholders onto the counter. “I called a cab. I made sure I wasn’t followed. I didn’t go anyplace I’d ever been before. I left a note. I was careful.”

Zack jabbed a finger at her. “I told you not to leave. You gave the patrol car the slip on purpose. I was worried. Worried, hell. I was frantic.”

“Zack, I can’t spend the rest of my life in this house because you worry,” Lucy said, but she felt awful. He was looking at her like she’d come back from the dead, and there was a muscle twitching along his jaw. “I know you think this is serious. But you can’t keep me locked in this house forever…”

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “It’s not forever, Luce. Just until I figure this out.”

“Well, what if you don’t?” Lucy folded her arms, determined to stand her ground. “Whether you like it or not, I’m going back to school on Monday. Are you going to frisk all my seniors? Pat down the custodians?”

“I’ll figure it out.” Zack rubbed his hand across the back of his head. “I will figure this out. I just can’t get hold of this one, for some reason. It just doesn’t make sense. My instincts just aren’t kicking in.”

“I can’t live my life waiting for permission from your instincts.” Lucy turned and lifted the lid on the soup pot to stir it.

“No, but you can stop taking such dumb chances,” Zack flared. “You went out today for no good reason…”

“I went out for an excellent reason.” Lucy slapped the lid down hard on the pot and turned to face him. “I’m an independent woman, and I wanted to go out. And my hair was driving me crazy.”

“You went out because of your hair?” Zack’s voice rose again, incredulous. “That’s what this is all about? Your damn hair?”

“Listen, if you’d been walking around under my hair, you’d have broken, too,” Lucy snapped. “You don’t know what it was like. I mean, everybody who saw me just stopped, amazed…”

“It wasn’t that bad, once you got used to it,” Zack said, taken aback by her fervor.

“Oh, that’s a real testimonial, Zack. That makes me feel so much better…”

“Will you take it easy?”

“Take it easy?” Lucy gritted her teeth, her anger fueled by her guilt at making him worry. “Take it easy? You know how awful it was. How many times when you were in bed with me last night did you look at me and think, ‘God, she has awful hair’?”

“Never,” Zack said flatly. “Not once. Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding.” Lucy’s anger surged. “Don’t you care what I look like? What is this? Once the lights are out, I’m just like any of your other women? We’re all alike in the dark, is that it?”

“Lucy,” Zack said through clenched teeth. “Shut up.” He took a deep breath. “You are absolutely unlike any woman I have ever met, thank God, and I don’t care what color your hair is, and if you ever scare me again like you did today, I will walk out of your life forever because I can’t take that kind of fear.” He shook his head and turned away from her to stare into the dining room. “You were right about us getting married. Dumb idea. I’m not ready for it.”

“Well, that’s what I thought,” Lucy said, but she felt herself go empty inside.

Zack turned back to face her. “I knew it would be like this. I told Tony it would be like this. You start caring for people, and your instincts go. Hell, your brains go. I don’t mind being scared for myself. I’m scared for myself all the time. That’s just part of being a cop.” He look a deep breath. “But the way I felt about you today…no. I was so damn scared I couldn’t think. I am never… never going to feel like that about anybody ever again.”

They both stood still for a moment, silenced by the emotion between them, and then Lucy turned back to the stove, unable to cope with the pain in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. But I think you’re overreacting.” She picked up the lid again and began to stir the soup. “You and Anthony both told me that this man is only trying to scare me out of the house. Nobody thinks I’m in danger anymore. Not even you.”

“I’m overreacting.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” He turned and left the room, and fifteen minutes later he came down with his bag packed.

Lucy felt her breath go when she saw him, but she made herself sound calm. “Leaving?”

“This isn’t going to work, Lucy,” he said. “I’m too emotional about this to be doing you any good. And you’re probably right. I probably overreacted. If you want somebody here with you for a while, I’ll call Matthews.”

Lucy swallowed. “Junior.”

“I don’t think he likes being called Junior.” Zack seemed dimmed, as if a current had been switched off inside him. “You want me to call him?”

“No.” Lucy drew a deep breath. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Oh, the pleasure was mine.” Zack smiled tightly, “I’ve already called a patrol car to watch this place. A different one. The first guy is still pretty upset with you. And Tony will call you tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Lucy said, and he nodded and was gone.

LUCY WALKED INTO THE living room and sank down on the love seat. “What happened?” she asked Einstein when he padded over. “He wanted to marry me this morning, and now he’s gone?” The ache in her chest swelled into her throat, and she bit her lip to keep from crying. “Boy, this has been a bad month. Good thing I’m independent now.”

The lump in her throat grew until she thought she’d choke, and she concentrated on not crying.

After all, nobody had died.

It was just the emptiness inside her that made her feel like somebody had.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU doing here?” Anthony asked Zack when he came in the squad room.

Zack sank heavily into his chair. “Lucy doesn’t need a bodyguard. We all know nobody’s trying to kill her. There’s a patrol car out in front. She’s okay.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes. “We knew all this yesterday. You stayed last night.”

“Well, that was a mistake.” Zack began to sort the mound of paperwork on his desk.

“But, Lucy-”

Zack looked up. “Forget it. You tried. It didn’t work out.”

Anthony looked as innocent as he possibly could. “I didn’t…”

“Forget it.”

Anthony shrugged. “All right. It’s probably just as well. We got an interesting conversation between Lucy and her sister on the phone tap.”

“Not interested,” Zack said.

“Okay,” Anthony said, “how about this? Mrs. Dover called again.”

Zack felt himself freeze and kicked himself for it “Maybe she’s just lonely.”

“I’m starting to wonder myself.” Anthony leaned back in his chair, watching Zack. “She saw prowlers again last night and this afternoon. She’s starting to see them everywhere.”

Zack squelched the beat of fear he felt. “She’s a crazy old lady with nobody to talk to except cops.”

Anthony was still watching him closely. “We still haven’t found what’s in Lucy’s house.”

“Fine,” Zack flared. “You go over and move in with her. I’m not going back there.”

“She looked beautiful today,” Anthony said. “I like her hair red.”

“Shut up, Tony.”

“Maybe I will drop by later, to check on her, make sure she’s all right.”

Zack swiveled his chair away, cranked a report form into the typewriter, and began to pound on the keys.

“Maybe I’ll have dinner with her.”

Zack hit the return carriage with enough force to send it across the room.

“Just a thought,” Anthony said and went back to his own report.

LATE THAT EVENING, Lucy went into the bathroom and startled herself pleasurably in the mirror with her new red hair. Then she took a long, hot bath and thought about Zack.

He’d rocked her earlier with that marriage thing. Zack, of all people, planning commitment. It was like Madonna becoming a nun. Interesting but not likely to last Especially since he seemed to be basing his decision on sex and food. He hadn’t even told her he loved her. Not that she expected it. Although something along those lines usually turned up in a marriage proposal.

And then he’d walked out. Because she’d scared him.

Well, he scared her, too. He scared her because she felt so lost without him. And so lonely. It was as if the world was Technicolor with Zack and black-and-white without him. She felt colder and paler and smaller without him, shriveling without his warmth.

Well, all that was immaterial now. He was gone. It was over.

She climbed out of the tub and wrapped herself in her big terry-cloth robe and headed for the bedroom. Inside the door, she flipped on the light and walked toward the bed, only to stop about a yard from it.

It didn’t look right.

She frowned at it, trying to figure out what was wrong. Nothing. Her bed, her quilt, her embroidered pillows. She put her hands on her hips and studied it again.

Maybe the problem was that Zack wasn’t in it. Maybe this was an honest-to-God instinct kicking in.

Or maybe not.

She was still debating the problem when Heisenberg came trotting in and launched himself at the bed. Without thinking, Lucy swung out her arm and knocked him away before he could land on the quilt, and Heisenberg hit the floor and yipped and cowered away from her.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Lucy scooped him up even as he shied away again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know…” She caressed him as she looked back over her shoulder at the bed. “No. I don’t know what this is, but we’re talking to Zack.”

The relief she felt was so overwhelming that she almost ran for the phone.