“No,” Lucy said, trying to push him away. “No, you don’t. You don’t even know who I am.”

“I know who you are.” Bradley’s jaw clenched so that he could hardly speak. “You’re my wife.” He shoved her arms away from him and pulled her to him before she could protest, and then he kissed her with as much passion as he could.

It was horrible.


BRADLEY HAD TO HAVE gotten in somehow.

Zack prowled around the outside of the house, trying to think how Bradley could have breached the security of Tina’s locks. They were all fine. He’d tried every one, and now he was back at the basement doors. He yanked on the locks again, but they held.

“This makes no sense,” he said aloud, and then out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of yellow fur.

He spun on his heel, startling Phoebe, who stopped practically in mid-leap. “Back off, you furry little bitch,” Zack snarled. “I’m not in the mood.”

Phoebe snarled back at him and leaped away.

Oh, good. He was up against insane house cats now. Lucy took care of armed men, and he repelled flea-bitten unhinged…

He stopped in mid-thought.

Unhinged.

He reached down for the door and, this time, instead of tugging at the center of the bars, he tugged on the hinges to the left.

Nothing.

But when he pulled on the hinges to the right, they lifted away, the double doors fused together with Tina’s locks, swinging up smoothly on the left-hand hinges.

Bingo. Zack started down the stairs.

So did Phoebe.


LUCY DUCKED AWAY, shoving hard to break Bradley’s hold. “No. Stop it.”

“It’s that policeman, isn’t it?” Bradley’s face was wooden, but he let go of her.

Lucy backed into the corner of the kitchen nearest the door, giving herself an escape route. “No, Bradley, it’s you. You let that man in here to bomb this house and try to kill me. You knew he was dangerous. He shot his wife. You knew that.”

Bradley stepped forward to reach for her again, and Lucy stepped back, grabbing the back-door knob, and then they both froze, trapped by the scream of a cat in the basement.

“That’s Phoebe.” Lucy moved toward the basement door. “How did she get in the basement?”

“I know,” Bradley said, and when she turned he was holding a gun.

“Bradley?” Her voice came in a squeak.

“Get away from the door,” he said calmly. “There’s a prowler down there.”

Lucy edged away from the door, praying Bradley wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. How rude had she been?

How out of touch was he?

He moved slowly toward the basement door, like an avalanche gathering speed. Just before he opened the door, he stopped and looked at her. “You stay here. We still need to talk.”

“Right,” Lucy said, bobbing her head frantically. “You bet.”


STIFLING HIS SCREAM WHEN Phoebe went for his leg had been one of the hardest things Zack had ever done, but he’d managed it, smacking her away with his fist and provoking a scream from her that could have peeled paint. She ran back up the stairs to the outside, and he froze for a moment until he was sure no one had heard.

He was on the first step up the stairs to the kitchen when Bradley opened the door and pointed the gun at him.

“Back.” Bradley let the basement door swing closed behind him, and then he walked carefully down the stairs until he was halfway to the bottom.

“Where’s Lucy?” Zack asked, backing away. “Is she…”

“Forget Lucy,” Bradley said coldly. “Lucy is my wife. She’s staying with me.”

Zack tried to think. Present tense was a good sign.

Maybe he’d sent her out for milk. Maybe she wasn’t bleeding to death on the kitchen floor.

He hadn’t heard any shots.

“I’m going to have to kill you.” Bradley sounded as if he wasn’t positive that killing Zack was a good idea, but he was willing to chance it.

“Hey,” Zack said, wishing Anthony was there. “I think we should talk about this. You’re not a bad guy. I’m not a bad guy. We’ve got a lot in common. How about you put down the gun, and we discuss the situation?”

If possible, Bradley grew colder. “Evidently we do have a lot in common. You’ve been sleeping with my wife.” He pointed the gun at Zack’s midsection.

This was not good. “Your wife? Lucy? Not at all.” Zack shook his head. “Nope. Just protecting her. Trust me.”

“I’m not a fool. I read the note she left for you that day. And I can tell from the way she looked at you in the hall.” Bradley raised the gun higher. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Bad idea,” Zack said quickly. “Murder is always a bad idea, but killing a cop? No.” He shook his head. “Don’t do it. The hassle is enormous.”

“It’s not murder,” Bradley said after a moment. “It’s self-defense. I heard an intruder in the basement and shot him. It’s self-defense.”

“Well, actually, Brad, it’s not,” Zack said, trying to sound calm and friendly. “Self-defense only works if the intruder is actually approaching you in a threatening manner. Just offing somebody in your basement doesn’t count.” Bradley appeared to hesitate, and Zack took heart and moved on. “Now, obviously you were duped by John Bradley, so there’s no need…”

“No.” Bradley looked into Zack’s eyes. “You’re not stupid. You know about the windows.”

“The ones John Bradley shot out,” Zack said helpfully.

“You know it was me.”

Terrific. Shut up, Bradley.

“You knew it was me all along. That part of this was always between us.” Bradley smiled as he said it. “You knew. I kept calling to see if you were here, and you always were. So I told J.B. to call you for me, and I stood in the front yard, and when you picked up the phone, I shot at you.”

“You almost shot Lucy that night,” Zack said, and Bradley’s smile disappeared.

“I would never hurt Lucy. When I shot at you on the street that day and almost hit her, I was terrified. I was trying to hit you, not her. I won’t miss this time.”

This was bad. Bradley raised the gun another inch and Zack stared down its barrel. A.45. Again, a.45. They’d be scraping him off the house next door. He had to get out of Property Crimes. It was too damn dangerous. Then he looked past the gun into Bradley’s angry eyes and made a discovery that scared the hell out of him.

Bradley wasn’t nuts. He was just mad as hell. At him. Because he’d slept with Lucy. And Zack knew exactly how that anger felt because it was one of the reasons Zack didn’t like Bradley much, either.

If I thought he’d slept with her while she was seeing me, Zack thought, I’d be furious, too. Imagine if I’d been married to her. Imagine if she obviously wanted him more than me.

I’d want to kill him.

Which meant that unless he came up with something fast, he was going to die.

“You know, Bradley,” Zack said suddenly, “if you shoot me, you’ll never get Lucy back. If we sit down and work this out, you could get off with probation, a suspended sentence. Once Lucy finds out the blonde was lying, she’ll understand why you did it. Unless you shoot me. I’m a cop, Bradley. They’ll throw away the key. And you’ll never get to explain to Lucy.”

“I already explained it.” Bradley dropped the gun slightly. “She doesn’t care. She wants you. As long as you’re alive…”

He began to sight down the barrel again, and Zack gave up.

“Put the gun down, Bradley.”

Lucy’s voice cut through the silence, and they both froze. Zack stared past Bradley to the stairs where she’d appeared, a few steps above him, her brand-new autographed baseball bat balanced above her shoulder.

“Lucy?” Bradley turned slightly, just enough to see her from the corner of his eye. Not enough to give Zack room to move.

“Put it down, Bradley,” she said. “This won’t help things. If you shoot him, you’ll only be in more trouble. Put it down.”

“Lucy, you don’t understand. Go back upstairs.” Bradley turned back to Zack.

“Go, honey,” Zack said, and Bradley’s face went red with anger.

“No, Bradley,” Lucy said. “Listen to me. I have a baseball bat here, and I will hit you with it if you don’t drop your gun.” She said it very calmly, as if it were the most sensible thing in the world instead of the most ridiculous, but Zack could see the bat tremble in her hands, and he felt a chill of fear for her like nothing he had ever felt for himself.

Bradley turned back to her, and Zack had a nightmare vision of him suddenly swinging the gun around to her.

“Go away, Lucy,” Zack said, and Bradley turned back to him, furious.

“Drop it, Bradley,” Lucy said, and Bradley twitched his eyes back to her and then back to Zack.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy.” Bradley’s voice began to shake with impatience. “You won’t hit me with a baseball bat. The whole idea is ludicrous. You are not a violent person.”

“Oh, I can be.” Lucy swallowed hard. “I cracked your friend’s skull with a bat this morning. It made the most awful sound, Bradley. Like a bad melon. I don’t want to hit you, Bradley, and I know you don’t want to shoot Zack. Just put the gun down. Please.”

“Oh, I want to shoot Zack.” Bradley took careful aim at Zack. “I really do. And you won’t hit me, not even to save him. You can’t. You’re not capable of violence. I know you. You’re my wife, and I know you better than you know yourself.” He began to squint his eyes, ready to pull the trigger.

Zack gave up hope and looked at Lucy because he wanted her to be the last thing he saw before he died.

“Well, the thing is, Bradley, I’ve changed,” Lucy said.

And then she swung the bat solidly into the back of his head.