“I thought you were never going to worry about anybody,” Anthony said, trying to suppress his grin. “I thought responsibility meant death. And what’s with you calling her ‘Lucy’? The two of you are on a first-name basis already? What’s going on?”

“She has a dog that does a dog joke.” Zack rolled his eyes in disgust. “It’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. She’s all alone in that big house with three of the most un-vicious dogs that ever barked. She was married to a rat, and now somebody’s taking potshots at her. Somebody has to look out for her.”

Anthony began to laugh. “Zack, she split your lip and gave you what the doctor calls a minor concussion. He said you should be home in bed. You’re talking about a woman who beat you up in an alley.”

“She did not…”

“All right, all right. So what’s the plan? To search the house tomorrow?” Anthony shook his head. “I hate to tell you this, but we’ve still got paperwork from Jerry this morning to finish. I can put it off for a little while, but not the whole morning. Isn’t there some way we can short-circuit this search thing?”

“Yeah,” Zack said. “We can go to interview Bradley Porter first and see if we can get him to spill everything he knows. Lucy told me he’s a branch manager of a bank out in Gamble Hills. Nobody knows where he’s staying right now, but he’ll be at work tomorrow. We can start with him first.” He stared at the ceiling again. “Actually, I’m really looking forward to meeting him.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“I want to see what a rat like that looks like. You wouldn’t believe what a sweetheart Lucy is.”

“A sweetheart?” Anthony grinned. “She beat you up.”

“She did not…” Zack closed his eyes and gave up. “Forget it. I’m sore. My head hurts. I need a hot bath and a beer. I cannot argue with you anymore. You win. She beat me up.”

“When you can’t fight, we’re definitely finished for the day.” Anthony stood. “Want some help getting down to your car, old man?”

“Drop dead,” Zack said, and got up carefully, trying not to groan from his bruises.

Before Lucy went up to bed, she found the phone table on its side and the receiver thrown off its hook.

“Did you do this?” she said to Einstein as she righted the table, and he immediately turned and walked away. “Most nights I wouldn’t care,” she said to his swaying rear end. “But tonight I thought maybe I might actually get another call from him.”

Einstein turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder.

“Right,” Lucy said. “That is pathetic.”

Then she put the phone back on the table and went up to bed.


LUCY GOT UP TO RUN at eight on Friday morning, but she stopped at the front door.

She wasn’t supposed to go out. Every muscle in her body wanted to run, but she wasn’t supposed to go out.

Zack Warren had forbidden it.

“I don’t believe this,” she told the dogs. “He just says ‘Stay put,’ and I stay put. And today was supposed to be the first day of the rest of my independence. If I had any backbone at all…”

On the other hand, he said he was coming by to search the house. She had to be home for that. It was her civic duty. Sort of.

Also, she didn’t want to miss seeing him again.

She sighed and started to run up the stairs. Two steep flights. About a thousand trips up and down should do it.

But just for today. Tomorrow, she was going out to run like a rational human being, no matter what Zack Warren said.


“HE TOOK TWO WEEKS OFF?” Zack glared at the immaculate matron behind the mahogany manager’s desk at Gamble Hills First National. She wore her dark hair styled like a helmet, and she glared back at him militarily through horn-rimmed glasses.

Zack scowled at her. “How can a bank manager take two weeks off?”

“He was getting a divorce.” She jerked on the cuffs of her navy polyester suit jacket for emphasis. “He was very disturbed about it. The past two weeks, he couldn’t concentrate at all. Mr. Porter was always very efficient, so it wasn’t like him. Not at all. We all understood that he needed a little time off.”

“We appreciate your help, Mrs. Elmore,” Anthony said, trying to reduce the fallout from Zack’s scowl. He was rewarded with a slight smile and a nod. “We have just a few more questions and we’ll go. We know how busy you must be with Mr. Porter gone. Now, his last day was yesterday?”

“Day before yesterday.” Mrs. Elmore lowered her voice. “Yesterday was the Divorce.”

“Ah.” Anthony smiled at her in sympathy. “This must make a lot of extra work for you.”

The woman smoothed her jacket and smiled complacently. “I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do for the poor man.”

“The poor man?” Zack said, thinking of Lucy.

Mrs. Elmore glared at him.

“Zack, why don’t you go over there and interview somebody?” Anthony jerked his thumb toward the tellers.

“Fine.” As Zack wandered off, he could hear Anthony saying, “That’s terrible. Mr. Porter must have been very upset for the past couple of weeks. Did he say anything…”

“Hi.”

Zack turned around to see a very young, very blonde teller smiling at him.

“Can I help you with anything?” Her smile deepened.

“Full service banking?” Zack said and grinned.

“Well, we try to please,” she said, dimpling at him. “I’m Deborah.”

“So tell me, Deborah.” Zack leaned on the ledge across from her and smiled into her eyes. “What’s it like to work for Mr. Porter?”

“It’s boring,” Deborah said. “And I don’t talk about my employers.”

Zack showed her his badge. “I’m one of the good guys, Deborah. Tell me about Mr. Porter.”

“You don’t look like a good guy.” She smiled at him again.

“Mr. Porter, Deborah. Concentrate. Other than boring, what was he?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. He came in, worked hard, and went home.”

“Ever make a pass at you?”

Deborah chortled. “Mr. Porter? Not a chance. He was so crazy about his wife, he didn’t even know there were other women on earth.”

Zack stopped smiling. “But he just got divorced.”

“Oh, that was her idea.” Deborah looked around and dropped her voice. “Long overdue, if you ask me. I mean, he would have bored me to death. I met her at the Christmas party. She was really nice. Quiet, but nice. Mr. Porter showed her off like she was something he owned, but he was crazy about her. You could see it. I mean, Evan Hatch just asked her to dance, and he was furious about it. He hasn’t spoken to Evan since.”

“Evan Hatch?”

Deborah jerked her head to her right and Zack stepped back to look at the teller two windows down. He was about five foot four, a hundred and twenty pounds, and bald.

Zack frowned at Deborah. “Porter was jealous of him?”

“He was jealous of everybody. I told you. He was crazy about her.”

Zack tried again. “I thought I heard the divorce was because he’d had an affair.”

“No way,” Deborah said. “It was his wife and nobody else. And listen, he had his chances. I mean, have you ever seen him?”

Zack shook his head.

“Check out his picture. It’s over there.” Deborah nodded her head in the direction of the big glass doors.

“He’s really great looking. Believe me, a lot of women were interested.” She cocked her head. “Not me. I like my men a little rougher, not as handsome, if you know what I mean.” She smiled at Zack again.

“And I even shaved,” Zack said.

“What?”

“Nothing. So aside from being boring, he was the perfect boss?”

“Well, he was a nitpicker.” Deborah made a face. “But we got used to it. And then about two weeks ago, he really let up and stopped watching us all the time. It would have been really nice, except he was so grumpy. That’s when Mrs. Elmore came around and told us about the divorce. She said we should be understanding.”

Zack squinted back at Mrs. Elmore. “She doesn’t look like the understanding type.”

“She’s not,” Deborah said. “Unless it’s Mr. Porter.”

“Oh.”

“The divorce may have depressed Mr. Porter, but it cheered Mrs. Elmore right up. When he comes back, he’s not going to have a chance.”

“Maybe I won’t arrest him then.” Zack gazed over his shoulder at Mrs. Elmore. “That could be punishment enough.”

Deborah’s mouth dropped open. “You’re going to arrest him?”

“No.” Zack turned back hastily. “That’s a little police humor. Very little. Did you notice anything else different about Mr. Porter lately? Besides the grumpiness?”

“Nope. The grumpiness was it.”

“Okay, listen. Here’s my card.” Zack handed it over. “If you think of anything else, call me, please.”

“Anything?” Deborah batted her eyelashes at him.

“Anything about Mr. Porter. You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to pick up a cop on duty.”

“Don’t you ever get off duty?”

“No. I live for my work.” Zack turned to see Anthony waiting patiently by the door. “Well, I’ve got to go, my driver is waiting. Thanks, Deborah. You were a great help.”

“Anytime,” Deborah said. “Really.”

On his way out the door, Zack stopped by the gallery of employee portraits that Gamble Hills First National had assembled to give the customers a nice feeling of family as they parted from their money. Among the dozen or so faces, Deborah dimpled, and Mrs. Elmore grimaced and, at the very top like the Big Daddy of banking, Bradley Porter stared down and was not amused.

He was classically handsome-thick wavy blond hair, a straight Roman nose, a chiseled chin with a hint of a cleft, and the coldest grey eyes Zack had ever seen.

What the hell had Lucy been thinking of to marry this… this… fish?

“Zack?” Anthony called from just inside the door. “You ready?”

She needed a keeper. Not him, of course, but still…

“Zack?”

“Yeah.” Zack followed him out to the car.

“Another blonde?” Anthony said when Zack got in the car beside him. “Is this a trend for you?”

“Blonde?”

“The teller.”

“Deborah? No. Blondes are too dangerous. I’m only interested in brunettes. Like Mrs. Ehnore. Drive and tell me all about her undying passion for Bradley Porter. And then tell me what motel she’s been meeting Mm at so we can go get him.”

Anthony put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot “We can’t go get him. He’s in Kentucky.”

“ Kentucky?” Zack scowled at him as if it were his fault “What the hell is he doing in Kentucky when we want him here?”

“Communing with nature to heal his tortured soul. Or something like that. He’s brokenhearted. His wife, who is cold and unfeeling, did not understand him.”

“He said that? The rat. Drive to Kentucky.”

“I don’t think so. We have reports to fill out And we do not have any conclusive link between our Bradley and Lucy’s Bradley.”

“He’s not Lucy’s Bradley.” Zack tapped his fingers on the window edge. “I tell you what Let’s search the house. We’ll find the link. Trust me on this one. I’ve got…”

“Reports to fill out,” Anthony said.

“Oh, hell,” Zack said.


THE SHOWER FELT wonderful.

The hot water stung Lucy’s body and made her skin tingle, which made her think of Zack, which made her tingle more.

It was ridiculous. He’d mugged her in an alley, then he’d argued with her in her living room, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was particularly ridiculous to be looking forward to seeing him again. Of course, that was mostly because he was coining to search her house, and when he didn’t find anything, then he’d have to admit that he was wrong and she was right and that the only criminal thing Bradley had ever done was bring that blonde into her house.

Lucy tested herself for pain on the last thought. Did that hurt anymore? Maybe it never had. Maybe the emotion she’d felt was more repressed rage that Bradley had brought that woman into her house. She was going to have stop repressing her rage.

She definitely wasn’t feeling any pain over Bradley’s blonde anymore.

And she’d lost the feeling she’d had that the house had been contaminated. That really went when she threw Bradley’s chair down the stairs. That had been a wonderful moment. For just a moment, she’d felt totally out of control.

Like Zack.

Zack. What did she see in him? The man was a patronizing maniac who thought he had a hot line to the universe. Trust his instincts. Ha, as Mrs. Dover would say.

Well, sort of ha.

Actually, she was willing to bet that he had great instincts for some things. In fact, she was willing to bet that he had better instincts than she’d ever had. She was willing to bet…