The Nosy Neighbor

by Fern Michaels

  “That would be wonderful, Jonathan. You always think of me, don’t you?” Lucy took another swig from the bottle. You’re a weasel Jonathan St. Clair/Leo Banks or whoever you are. Like I would really eat anything you sent me.

  “Are you ready to go back to work, honey?”

  Lucy looked at the brandy bottle in her hand with narrowed eyes. “Not really.” A devil perched itself on her shoulder. “I’m going to sell my interest in the firm to Steven. I want to be a full-time wife. I am going to take such good care of you, Jonathan,” she said sweetly. “I’m going to cook, and bake, and iron, and all that stuff. I’m going to plant a garden. I might extend the deck a little farther and put in a swimming pool. Life in the burbs! Doesn’t that sound wonderful, Jonathan?”

  “It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, darling. We’ll talk about it when I get there,” Jonathan replied, his voice dropping to somewhere near the subzero level.

  Ignoring the coldness in his tone, Lucy continued. “Jonathan, what is it exactly that you do? I know you broker deals, but what kind of deal are you working on now?” As she waited for his response, Lucy took another belt out of the brandy bottle. There wasn’t much left. “Jonathan, are you still there?”

  “I’m still here, Lucy. Why do you ask? Maybe I should ask why you want to know. You made a point of saying you could never discuss your cases with me, and I told you I can’t discuss my clients. I sign a confidentiality agreement before I begin to work for a client. In my business, it’s a necessity. You know how that works, don’t you?”

  Lucy opted to ignore the question. “My gown is finished,” Lucy blurted. “The dogs chewed up the wedding invitations. Everything seems to be going wrong. The roof is leaking,” she lied. “I’m thinking we should postpone the wedding until June. Maybe the dogs chewing up the invitations is an omen of some kind.”

  The silence on the other end of the phone was palpable. Now that she had Jonathan’s attention, Lucy rolled on. “And, the IRS sent me a notice,” she lied still again. “They want to talk to me January 17 at 9 A.M. I am not looking forward to talking with them. I’m always meticulous about preparing my tax forms.” The silence on the other end of the phone sizzled. She wondered if she’d gone too far. Lucy felt the need to prod him once again. “What do you think, Jonathan?”

  “Routine, darling. I told you to get rid of that dog. Pay extra and order new invitations. Money talks, sweetheart. We are not postponing our wedding. You are mine, and I intend to claim you. Don’t even think about it. I have to hang up because we’re starting to make our descent now. I’ll call you in a day or so. I love you.” Sure you do, you weasel. Well, guess what, I don’t love you. Another thing, there is not going to be a wedding in February or June because if I have anything to do about it, you’ll be in prison by then. So there, Jonathan St. Clair, aka Leo Banks.

  Lucy was prevented from making a reply because she was draining the last of the brandy in the bottle. She clicked the cordless phone to the OFF position and sat down on the sofa. She was tipsy if not outright drunk, and she knew it. She was also scared out of her ever-loving wits. In all the time she’d known Jonathan, she’d never, ever heard him use the tone of voice she’d just heard humming over the wire.

  The dogs thundered down the hallway and around the corner to the front door. She could barely hear the bell with all the barking going on. The door was locked. That meant she had to get up and open it. It had to be Wylie and his friend, the parapsychologist.

  When she opened the door both men stared at her glassy eyes. It was Coop who nudged her toward the sofa in the family room. Lucy stared around at the room as though wondering how she got there. She rubbed at Coop’s silky back.

  “Coffee! I think we could all use some strong, black coffee,” Wylie said enthusiastically as he pantomimed behind Lucy’s back, urging Jake to get Lucy to talk. In her condition he had no idea what would be forthcoming.

  Jake propped his elbows on his knees and leveled his gaze on Lucy. “So, how did it go? Are they going to let you off the hook or what? Did you hear anything that will help the situation?”

  Lucy fumbled for the cassette recorder, digging between the cushions on the sofa. Jake reached across to take the recorder, his bright blue eyes twinkling at Lucy’s condition.

  “It’s still on, the tape is almost full. Let’s see what we have here,” Jake said, as he pressed the REWIND button. Lucy leaned back and listened to herself and the FBI agents. When Wylie handed her a huge mug of black coffee, she reached for it with both hands.

  Wylie positioned himself on the sofa next to Lucy but not too close. Coop leaped up and wiggled next to him. Lucy and he reached out to stroke the big dog’s head at the same time. A jolt of electricity whipped through Wylie at Lucy’s touch. Neither one moved. Sadie sat up on her haunches and barked, Lulu yapping at the top of her lungs. A second later, both dogs were on the sofa, and the highly charged moment was gone.

  “I guess you didn’t remember to turn off the recorder before the phone call, huh?” Jake said.

  “No, I guess I forgot. I was pretty wired at that point. Then Jonathan or…whatever the hell his name is, called. That’s when I finished the brandy.” Lucy propped the coffee cup between her knees as she waved her arms in the air. “I lied all over the place to…to that man. When I hung up, I was scared. I never heard such a cold tone in his voice before. Do you think I tipped him off?”

  Wylie eyeballed the parapsychologist sitting across from him. He shook his head imperceptibly. Jake nodded. “I suppose anything is possible,” Jake said. “Since I don’t know the man, I don’t want to be rash and say yes. Did you hear anything significant when you met with the FBI agents?”

  “Yes and no. Nothing that’s going to help me. I really tried there at the end to hear something, but nothing came through. We have to wait till tomorrow for them to get back to me. Do you think my phone is tapped? If it is, they heard my conversation with Jonathan. Are we going to go up to Watchung or not?” Lucy asked, changing the subject.

  “Are you up to it?” Wylie asked, concerned. Lucy looked at him and smiled, her eyes lighting up. Wylie thought it the most endearing smile in the world.

  Again, Wylie forced himself to look away and locked his gaze with Jake’s. He shrugged.

  “I’m up to it. The brandy will start to wear off soon. The coffee will help. By the time we get there I should be fine. I’m not a drinker. I hardly ever drink. Well, sometimes, a glass of wine or a beer, but I don’t guzzle. What about the roads? If we’re going, we should go now.” She was babbling but didn’t know how to stop. Then she heard the click of the recorder again and her own voice as she spoke to Jonathan. Lucy felt herself cringe, and was aware of how still both men had become. Even the dogs didn’t move, sensing something was suddenly different.

  Lucy threw her hands in the air. “So, I forgot to turn the damn thing off. You can hear Jonathan since I put him on speakerphone. Easier to drink my brandy that way. Are you picking up the change in his voice?” Both men nodded. It was a relief when Jake switched the recorder off. No one said anything.

  Wylie jumped up first. “If we’re going, let’s go.” To Lucy’s ears, his voice sounded brusque and cold. It bothered her. She didn’t like the look she was seeing on Jake’s face either.

  “Wait just a damn minute, you two. It was a stupid phone call. I was trying to act normal, not to raise any suspicion where Jonathan is concerned. Not that it’s any of your business, but I was playacting. And drinking at the same time to make it easier. Read my lips. I do not love Jonathan St. Clair or whatever his real name is. I don’t think I ever did. Now, you can run with that in whatever direction you want. I’m also not hearing any of your thoughts. I can be ready in five minutes. I take it the dogs are staying here.”

  Properly chastised, both men nodded.

  “I’m suddenly thinking this is not such a good idea, Jake. If we’re going to the house that Lucy allegedly owns, are we going with the intention of breaking and enter
ing? Or, are we doing a simple drive-by? There’s a good eight inches of snow out there, and there might be more in Watchung. What’s that snow going to do to all that warfare security those agents said was in place? I think we need to fall back and regroup.”

  Jake slapped at his forehead and cursed under his breath. “Sometimes I am stupid. Wylie, do you remember Mitch Logan?” Wylie frowned but nodded. “He’s a Navy SEAL. Remember how he was regaling us with stories at our ten-year reunion?” Wylie nodded again, wondering where Jake was going with all this. “Well, according to the alumni newsletter, he’s out of the SEALs now because of a severe back injury. He put together a security company somewhere outside of Washington, DC—Fairfax, Virginia, I think. I’m thinking we should call him and ask him to help us out here. If anyone can help us, it’s him. The guy has some big government contracts, so he must be good.”

  “How do you know all this?” Wylie asked.

  “I read the newsletters unlike you, who throws them away.”

  Wylie looked offended. “I don’t throw them away. I let them pile up, and eventually I read them. Good idea. You got his number?”

  “Not with me. I’m sure you have it at home. Go look. The guy’s a fraternity brother. We’re supposed to stick together. I’m up for a daylight drive-by and maybe a talk with some of the neighbors.”

  Five minutes later, Wylie returned with his alumni telephone list. Mitch Logan’s name was in the middle of the list along with the name of his security firm, Millennium Security.

  Wylie unzipped his jacket just as Lucy made her way into the den. Her eyes were full of questions as she watched Jake punch out a number on his cell phone. Wylie drew her aside and explained what was going on. “You look as relieved as I feel,” he said quietly.

  Lucy took off her sky-blue jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair. She sighed. “I am relieved we’re not going up to Watchung today. I know in my gut if we went there, the FBI would know it within seconds. All this snow would only hinder us anyway.”

  “How’s the head?” Wylie asked, to have something to say.

  “I have a dull headache, but I attribute that to the brandy. I took some aspirin. Nellie kept wanting to fix me up with you. She kept saying how nice you were, and I should check you out before I got married,” Lucy blurted.

  Wylie blinked in surprise. “Nellie was always on my case about introducing you to me. It just never worked out. It took two dogs for us to meet. I guess I owe Coop big-time. Maybe I’ll upgrade his meat loaf from ground chuck to ground round.” Lucy burst out laughing. Wylie thought it a wonderful sound. He thought everything about the woman standing next to him was wonderful. “Did you mean what you said about that guy you were going to marry?”

  Lucy nodded just as Jake clicked his cell phone shut. “Okay,” he said, “we’re in business. Mitch is going to leave now and drive here. He said he should arrive around eight. First thing in the morning, we’ll head up to the mountains. He said he has all kinds of equipment that will locate and disarm any kind of security. I think it’s safe to say we’re in good hands. At least for the moment.

  “I did my part, so you two can make dinner. I’m going to your house, Wylie, and take a shower and a nap. I also want to call my wife. I’ll leave Lulu here. You guys okay with that?” Wylie and Lucy nodded.

  Spending the balance of the afternoon with Wylie was not an unpleasant thought, Lucy decided as she made her way into the kitchen, Wylie behind her.

  Lucy opened the freezer and looked at the contents. She reached for a pot roast that was frozen solid. It wouldn’t make any difference if it was frozen or not as long as she cooked it in a pressure cooker. As she unwrapped the freezer paper, she fixed her gaze on her neighbor. “Are you sorry you got caught up in my mess, Wylie?”

  Wylie jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “No. I just feel helpless because there isn’t anything I can do except be your friend and help out with the dogs. Are you okay, Lucy?”

  Lucy rummaged in the bottom of one of the cabinets for the pressure cooker. “No, I’m not all right. I feel like some kind of freak. What if this thing in my head never goes away? What if…what if…Jonathan really does come for Christmas? How am I going to handle that? He’s going to want…you know,” she said, throwing her arms in the air. “They want me to trap him. I don’t exactly have a problem with that depending on how long it takes to put everything into motion. It’s the between time that is bothering me. And, all those insurance policies. I’m worth more dead than I am alive. The truth is, I’m scared out of my wits.”

  Wylie felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. “Listen, throw that meat in the pot and let’s go out and play in the snow. I haven’t done that in years, and I bet you haven’t either.” Seeing Lucy’s frown of indecision, he took charge of the meat. He snapped the lid on the pot with the air of a professional. “Now, let’s get dressed and have some fun.”

  Lucy laughed as Wylie escorted her to the coatrack. She was dressed within seconds and out the door in minutes. Then tried to run in the deep snow but kept falling. “Snow angels! Snow angels!” Lucy laughed.

  Wylie dived into the snow in the front yard and started to move his hands and legs. “My God! The last time I did this I was six years old!” Lucy followed suit, laughing and giggling. “The trick is,” Wylie shouted, “to get up without disturbing the angel imprint.”

  In the end it was impossible not to disturb the imprint, the snow was just too deep.

  “Let’s build a snowman. A big one. I think the snow is wet enough to roll the balls.” They huffed and puffed as she rolled a giant ball for the base. Breathless with the exertion, Lucy found herself leaning against Wylie. She was so close she could smell his aftershave, feel his warm breath on her cheek. She knew in that instant she was committed to this man forever and ever. She heard it then. God, how I love this woman. I feel like slinging her over my shoulder and carrying her off to my lair.

  Lucy leaned even closer. “Guess what, Wylie, you don’t have to put me over your shoulder. I’ll go with you willingly. So there!” She took off running but didn’t get far because Wylie tackled her. They both went facedown in the snow. Their arms around each other, they rolled down the front lawn. When they reached the road, Wylie smacked his cold lips on hers so fast she saw stars. A long time later she said, “I’d tell you to do that again, but right now I feel like I’m on fire. Can we do it again later?”

  “Does the Pope pray? Well, yeah. I’m available twenty-four/seven!”

  “I’ll write that down,” Lucy giggled as she struggled to her feet. “I guess you know Jake is watching us from the front window.”

  Wylie laughed. “Those parapsychologists are a curious lot.”

  Together they trudged through the snow to the front door. “I have hot chocolate, kiddies,” Jake said, as he held out two steaming cups.

  Back in the kitchen, their wet clothes in the dryer, Wylie harked back to Lucy’s confession about being scared out of her wits.

  “Coop and I could move in with you. We could say my heat went out or something like that. Hell, if you need bodies to fill up the house, I can have a few of my friends move in, too. Nothing like having to step over a bunch of bodies everywhere to quell…you know. I’ll do the vegetables while you braise the meat,” he said, changing the subject abruptly.

  “Okay,” Lucy said agreeably. “You have to go back to work tomorrow, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. Jake will be here, though. I’ll try to make it an early day. I have two paralegals and a partner who can cover for me. I don’t have to be in court, so that’s a plus. It will work out, Lucy.”

  Lucy adjusted the flame on the burner as the roast sizzled in the hot oil. “Do you ever get burned out, Wylie? Do you ever question yourself, the system, your clients?”

  “Every damn day,” Wylie said cheerfully. “My second choice after law was forestry. I think I would have made a hell of a forest ranger. Did you have a second choice?”

&
nbsp; “Not really. I didn’t really know what I wanted to be. My brother always wanted to be a lawyer. Our parents were lawyers, so I guess it was natural. For a little window of time, when I was first in college, I wanted to be this one-of-a-kind athlete. I was a distance runner, and I qualified for the Olympic trials, but then my mother got sick, and I had to bow out. Only after my mother died did I go to law school. I’m still not sure why. Maybe it was because I wanted to prove myself in the same arena my mother operated in. It’s hard to give up a dream, but you know what they say, everything happens for a reason. What would have been your game plan if you had become a ranger and found yourself face-to-face with a grizzly?”

  Wylie threw back his head and guffawed. “To run like hell!”

  He was so cute. Lucy laughed out loud.

  Wylie rinsed the carrots, onions, celery, and potatoes he’d peeled, then put them in a large yellow bowl. “You remind me of a girl I used to know my first year in college. Her name was Angie and she was homecoming queen. Typical blond, blue-eyed nymph. Every single guy on campus wanted her. I had the inside track, though, because I had a car. It was a bucket of bolts, and it didn’t run. The guys in the dorm and I worked on it every spare minute we had. Among ourselves, we christened it the Sex Machine. It was a convertible and strictly for picking up chicks. Back then our hormones were raging. I paid fifty bucks for it from some shyster, and he overcharged me by forty-nine bucks. It had some good tires on it, though. We painted it robin’s-egg blue. To match Angie’s eyes. Let me tell you, that was one spiffy-looking vehicle.”

  Lucy’s eyes twinkled. “Is this a sad story?”

  Wylie shrugged. “The day of her maiden voyage, I called Angie and said I’d come by her dorm to pick her up. I think every student on the floor was outside when I picked her up. It was a perfect spring day, not a cloud in the sky. Everyone ooohed and aaahed when she climbed in. Do you know what she said to me?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” Lucy said.

  “Well, what would you have said?”