“You interviewed the next-door neighbor?”

“No.” Zack looked pained. “She won’t talk to me. She thinks I’m a punk. I had the patrolman ask her.”

“A punk. That’s not so bad.” Anthony grinned at him. “At least punks are young.”

“Thank you.”

“So you think somebody’s trying to break in to get Lucy?” Anthony shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. There are a hundred easier ways to grab somebody than breaking into a house. Hell, you grabbed her on the street today.” Anthony looked at Zack’s lip. “Well, it might not be that easy. She does seem to have a fairly healthy sense of self-preservation.”

Zack gave him a dirty look. “I was trying not to hurt her. If I’d wanted her, I’d have had her. Hell, anybody could have grabbed her.”

“So they’re breaking in for something else.” Anthony leaned back in his chair. “Like to get a million and a half in government bonds that John Bradley gave to Bradley Porter who put them in the silverware drawer and then forgot to take with him when Lucy kicked him out? I don’t think so.”

“Wait a minute.” Zack swung his chair around and planted his feet back on the floor. “He couldn’t get in. Tina put locks on. She wouldn’t let him in.”

“So he just went meekly away and left a million and a half there? No,” Anthony said. “I bow to no one in my respect for Tina Savage’s temper, but I’d walk over her in a minute if it meant a million and a half. Particularly a million and a half that could put me away if somebody else found it. Like my ex-wife. No.”

“Something’s in that house, and the two Bradleys are involved.” Zack drummed his fingers on the desk. “I’ve got to get her out of that house until we find it. Only the dummy won’t go.”

“Can’t she stay with her sister for a while?”

“No. She won’t go without Einstein and Heisenburg and Whosis. She won’t budge at all.” His scowl changed suddenly. “At least I hope she hasn’t budged.”

“Einstein?” Anthony said, but Zack ignored him to flip through his notebook until he found the page he wanted and then dialed the number he’d found.

“Lucy? This is Zack Warren.” He listened for a moment. “I’m fine, thanks. I was just checking to make sure you hadn’t gone out.” He listened again, looking exasperated. “No, I don’t trust you. Because you’re a flake, that’s why. Now, listen, did Bradley leave any papers behind? He did? Have you looked at them? Great. Did you find any official-looking certificates? No, I’m not patronizing you. Did you find any government bonds? A lot of them. About a hundred of fifty, to be exact. Oh.”

He covered the receiver and spoke to Anthony. “She packed up all his stuff. No bonds.”

“I gathered that,” Anthony said. “Maybe he hid them. Did she check the cookie jar?”

Zack ignored him. “Lucy, do you have a safe anyplace in the house? Any place where you keep your valuables? No?” Zack sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk. “Listen. We’re going to have to come over tomorrow and search your place. Yeah, sometime tomorrow. Now, listen to me. Stay in that house and don’t answer the door tonight. And stay away from the doors and windows. Those lace curtains are a joke. When the lights are on, anybody can see in. Why? Because I said so. What do you mean, who do I think I am? I’m the guy who saved your life today. Yes, I did, damn it. What?” He listened to her again, frowning. “I told you, you did not beat me up. Thank you. Now stay inside that house. Good night.”

He hung up and glared at the phone. “I don’t know why I worry about that woman. She could argue any attacker to death.”

“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.”