Jennifer Crusie Bundle (10 page)

“Just a minute. Just one minute. Amuse yourself.” Anthony's phone rang and he answered, “Taylor, Property Crimes.” Then he looked grim, and said, “Right away,” and hung up. “We have a gunshot victim. Female.”

Zack's heart stopped for a moment. “Not Lucy. Tell me I didn't leave her alone for some creep to—”

“Not Lucy. Not unless she went blonde again and checked into a hotel in Overlook.”

Zack shook his head, relieved. “No. Not a chance. The dogs wouldn't like Overlook.” Then he stopped. “Overlook? It can't be.”

Anthony nodded. “Same room number as our rat Bradley. After I called, the desk clerk went up to check and found her unconscious, still clutching the phone. He called the rescue squad, and she's on her way to Emergency now.”

“I'll be damned. He's shacked up with the blonde in the slums, and then he shoots her and leaves for Kentucky? This makes no sense. Wait. How did they know this was our problem?”

“Because they found your name and phone number on a paper in her purse. Detective Warren. Property Crimes. And you'll love this part…”

“Come on, come on.”

“Shot with a .38.”

Zack smacked his hand on the desk. “She's our phone tip. John Bradley found out, shot at us on the street, and then went back and shot her. So where is Bradley Porter in this? This makes no sense, but at least it's a connection between Bradley Porter and crime. Let's go.”

“What about Lucy? Aren't you going to call her?”

“And tell her what?” Zack grabbed his jacket. “She'll keep. Let's
go.
”

“What did you do, hypnotize this woman?” Anthony said, but he picked up his jacket and followed him out the door.

I
T WAS EARLY AFTERNOON
when Lucy's phone finally rang.

“Hello?” she answered, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You didn't call me last night,” Tina said. “I got your message on the machine and called you back, but all I got was a busy signal. What happened?”

“I forgot,” Lucy said, trying not to feel disappointed. She curled up in her blue overstuffed chair. “And the busy signal was Einstein. He knocked the phone table over.”

“Why you don't have everything bolted to the floor in that place is beyond me. If you must live with a herd of animals, you should be prepared. Anyway, tell me about the mugger. You really beat one up? That's terrific!”

“Well, sort of.”

“You only ‘sort of' beat him up?”

“No, it's only sort of terrific. I really beat him up. His lip looked awful. Of course, he keeps swearing that I didn't beat him up—”

“You talked to this creep? That means the police got him. Good!”

“Well, in a manner of speaking. I sent some policemen after him, but I didn't realize what had happened until he showed up at my door—”

“Who?” Tina asked, confused.

“Zack. He…”

“Who's Zack?”

“The guy in the alley,” Lucy said, and Tina groaned.

“And now you're on a first-name basis with him and you won't press charges because he's told you about his horrible childhoood in reform school. Lucy, you are too damn nice!”

“Not exactly—”

“Forget it. I'm coming over, and we're going to the police and get this Zack character sent up the river for life. I know a cop now. That suit in the diner yesterday turned out to have a badge. You stay there. I'll call him and Benton.”

Lucy sat up straighter and clutched the phone. “No, Tina—”

“Do you think the police will be able to find him?”

“Probably. He works for them.”

There was a short silence. “What?” Tina said finally.

“He's a cop,” Lucy said.

“You beat up a cop?”

“That depends on who you talk to. From my point of view, yes. From Zack's, no.”

“Zack.”

“Zack Warren. Detective Zachary Warren.” Lucy relaxed into her chair again. “He has blue eyes. You remember. He was the black leather in the restaurant yesterday.”

“Don't do this,” Tina said.

“What?”

“We've got to talk. Meet me for lunch at the Maisonette.”

“I can't. Zack told me not to leave.”

“What? He just told you…”

“He thinks somebody's trying to kill me.”

There was another silence.

“Stay there,” Tina said finally. “I'm coming over with Chinese takeout, and you are going to tell me everything.”

“All right,” Lucy said. “But I better warn you. My hair is…different.”

“Different,” Tina said. “I can't wait.”

“S
HE'S UNCONSCIOUS
.” Zack slumped, defeated, in a plastic chair outside the hospital-room door. “Of course, she's unconscious. She's been bleeding into the carpet for hours. No ID. Nothing. This is making me crazy.”

“You were already crazy.” Anthony checked his watch. “Come on, we have things to do. The desk clerk just identified John Bradley as the man who used the room. We have to get a picture of Bradley Porter to him, too.”

Zack stared into space. “Bradley. Rat Bradley. I wonder where he is now?”

“Well, not back at the hotel. Let's go check out the room. Forensics hasn't found anything so far, but maybe…”

“I really want to arrest him,” Zack said. “Attempted murder is as good a reason as any.”

“Better than most,” Anthony agreed. “Now move. We need to get started on this. It's looking like it will take us the rest of the day and most of the night, as it is.”

“Rat Bradley,” Zack said, and Anthony gave up and pulled him to his feet and out the door.

T
INA BROUGHT HER A
baseball bat.

“Thank you.” Lucy looked at it doubtfully. “You haven't signed me up for intramurals or anything, have you?”

“Of course not. It's for your protection.”

Tina marched through the living room and dining room and into the kitchen, while Lucy trailed behind her with the bat. She dumped two bags of Chinese food on the kitchen table, and then took the bat from Lucy and propped it by the back door. “If anybody tries to break in here, you hit him with this. Hard.”

“Tina, nobody is trying to kill me. That's Zack's fantasy, not reality.”

“Tell me about it.” Tina opened the first carton of food.

An hour later, she was still curious. “So he really thinks somebody was shooting at you?” she said as she polished off her Mu Shu pork.

“Yes. Isn't that the dumbest thing you've ever heard?”

Tina thought about it. “No. Not if there were marks on the locks, too. He's right. You stay inside.”

Lucy shoved her plate away, exasperated. “What is it with you two? I don't even talk to my dogs the way you two talk to me.”

“Well, you should,” Tina glared at Einstein who was eyeing the Mu Shu pork carton. “They'd have better manners. So what's Zack like?”

“Erratic. Quick temper. Never still. Gorgeous blue eyes. Very short attention span. Not my type at all.” She stopped and then added primly, “Although I have had some inappropritate thoughts about him. Very inappropriate. Not that I'll ever do anything about it. Still, the dogs like him.” She pulled her plate back and scooped up some garlic chicken while she contemplated Zack. “He's sort of bossy, but I like him.”

Tina grinned. “Imagine my surprise. I've changed my mind. I think you should do something about it.”

“About what?”

“About this thing you have for Zack.”

Lucy shook her head. “Not a chance. My hair alone would send any sane man screaming into the street.”

Tina looked at Lucy's moss-colored hair. “Maybe if you wear a lot of forest green. Maybe he's a Tolkien fan.”

“Maybe I'll kill myself,” Lucy said.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Tina said. “I brought Häagen-Dazs. Triple Brownie Overload.”

“Maybe I'll live,” Lucy said.

W
HEN
T
INA FINALLY LEFT
Lucy's house at eleven, Zack still hadn't called.

It was for the best, Lucy knew. After all, she'd just gotten divorced. After all, he was too much of a loose screw to ever be good for her.

After all, her hair looked like a bad carpet.

“Tomorrow is another day,” she told the dogs. “And it's the first day of the rest of my independence. The heck with Zack Warren. The heck with all men. It's easier to be independent without them anyway.”

The dogs looked skeptical.

“Oh, forget it,” Lucy said. “Let's go to bed.”

“O
F COURSE, IT WON'T GO
into court,” Anthony said at eight the next morning as he hung up the phone. “But Patricia and the lab send you their best wishes and the considered opinion that the bullet from the blonde is a match for the bullet that missed you.”

“I think it's time we talked to Lucy.” Zack picked up the phone and dialed. “I was going over there later today, anyway.”

“That explains why you shaved two days in a row. We're all grateful.”

Zack ignored him. “Come on, pick it up,” he said into the phone. “I told you not to answer the
door.
It's okay to pick up the phone.” But after the twelfth ring, his annoyance faded and turned to cold fear. “She's not answering.”

Anthony grabbed his jacket. “Let's go. Looks like she opened the door, after all.”

L
ucy 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 think 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 finger. “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 hit 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.”

H
ALF 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 run?”

“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 that 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.”