The Nosy Neighbor (5 page)

“Oh,” Lucy said again.

Wylie chopped a skinny cucumber and dumped it into the bowl. His movements were deft as he cored and sliced a tomato. He tossed the salad, uncapped a bottle of blue cheese dressing, and placed everything in the middle of the table. “Do you think I should walk the dogs now, or should we eat first? Do you mind if I take off my jacket and tie?”

“No, I don’t mind. I think you should walk them now. I’ll set the table.”

“No, don’t do that. Wait till I get back. You need to stay off your foot. I’ll make you a good foot bath after dinner. You probably should see a doctor. If you hit your head, you might have a concussion.”

When Wylie returned he was wearing jeans and a heavy sweatshirt. Obviously, he had stopped at his own house to change. He looked even better in casual clothes. Nice thighs under the jeans.

Lucy enjoyed dinner despite her throbbing ankle and head. She let Wylie do most of the talking.

“So, what are you, independently wealthy or what? The neighbors say you’re home all the time and only work a few hours a day for Nellie. Great old gal, isn’t she? I miss her in the winter.” He peered at her across the table as he waited for her reply.

“I have a…nest egg. I live frugally,” Lucy said by way of explanation. “I got burned out and moved here to the burbs. End of story.” All she could think about was Wylie saying he would never marry a lawyer again.

“Where’s that eye-popping ring you were sporting this morning? Are you engaged? You don’t strike me as a person who would wear something that ostentatious. Costume jewelry, huh?” Wylie said, pleased with himself at his assessment of Lucy’s engagement ring.

Lucy shrugged as she sipped at her coffee, relieved that Wylie was satisfied with his own answer.

An hour later, Lucy marveled at her spotless kitchen. “You do good work,” she said, laughter ringing in her voice.

“My mother’s upbringing. She taught us to clean up after ourselves and always to offer to help out. Otherwise, she said, no one will invite you back. There were nine of us, so we had to learn how to do our own laundry, make beds, clean, and cook. You should see the hospital corners on my sheets. So, do you think you’ll invite me back?”

“There is that possibility. My mother always said we should be neighborly.”

“Mothers are great people. If you can make your way into the living room, I’ll build up your fire and fix that foot bath I mentioned. By morning, you’ll be right as rain, a little tender, but you’ll be able to get around. A bucket will do.”

Lucy explained where everything was and made her way into the living room, where both dogs were sitting on the sofa. They waited to see if they had to get off. When Lucy sat down, they relaxed, their heads on their paws, the picture of contentment.

Lucy sat up to put her bare foot into the steaming bucket of water. “Ohhh, that feels good. What’s in it?”

“Just you never mind what’s in it. It’s an old secret family remedy my mother came up with for all us kids. We were forever breaking or spraining something. I should be going. I have to be in court early tomorrow morning. I can’t afford to have the judge chew my ass out again. Thanks for dinner and thanks for taking Coop. I’ll be sure to block the doggie door so he doesn’t do an encore.”

Sadie slinked off the sofa and tried to be invisible, as did Coop. Lucy knew exactly what they were doing and where they were going. Sadie was going to show Clueless Cooper her hiding place under the bed, where no human had gone before.

“C’mon, Coop, let’s go. Time to go home.”

“You’re too late. They’ve gone to ground. Coop wants to stay with Sadie. Right now, I can guarantee they are both under my bed. They won’t come out either. It’s okay, he can stay the night,” Lucy said generously. Suddenly she realized she liked this new neighbor of hers. And she really liked his dog, too.

“What about tomorrow?”

“I’m not going anywhere, so it’s okay if he stays. I have one more pound of hamburger meat, but after that you’ll have to take him home. By the way, you better pick up something for me so
you
can take it to the party tomorrow night. I’ll call Nellie and explain what happened. Press the button on the lock, and the door will lock itself on your way out.”

Wylie looked dubious. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. He really isn’t any trouble. I kind of like him. It’s obvious he likes Sadie, and if Sadie is happy, I’m happy.”

“You are a nice lady, Lucy Baker.” He pronounced her last name, Bay-cur. “Did I tell you I was available? My hairline is not receding like most men’s my age. I work out, know how to cook and clean house. I come from sturdy stock, and my cholesterol is normal.”

Lucy blinked. In one breath she knew more about Wylie than she knew about Jonathan. “I will store all that other information aside for a time when I might need it.” In spite of herself, Lucy burst out laughing.
Bay-cur.
“How did you know my last name?”

“Rachel at Number 12 told me who you were when you moved in. Seems she knows the Realtor who sold you your house. She said your name was Lucy Bay-cur, and I remembered it.”

Lucy didn’t bother to correct the way he pronounced her last name once she realized seventy-five-year-old Rachel Muller with her German accent was the one who’d told him her name. That was another reason why Wylie didn’t connect her to the ace criminal defense attorney she’d once been.

“ ’Night, Lucy.”

“ ’Night, Wylie.”

The moment the door closed and locked behind Wylie, both dogs thundered down the hall and leapt onto the couch. Lucy laughed again.

A fitting end to an awful day.

Two things happened simultaneously the next morning when Lucy woke up on the couch with the two dogs. The phone rang, and the doorbell rang. She struggled to a sitting position and reached for the phone. She said hello as she hobbled to the front door, thinking it was Wylie who’d come to walk the dogs. It wasn’t Wylie, but he
was
walking up the driveway. Frick and Frack stood in front of her. She sighed, then her heart took an extra beat when she recognized Jonathan’s voice coming from the phone that was pressed to her ear. “Can you possibly call me back in a few minutes? I sprained my ankle, and my neighbor is here to walk the dogs, Sadie and his own. Yes, ten minutes is fine,” Lucy said as she ushered the men into the foyer and watched as Wylie loped up the driveway and into the house. Both dogs barked a boisterous greeting.

Lucy swiveled on one foot to reach for the dog leads hanging on the coatrack by the front door. Wylie’s eyes were full of questions as he gazed at the two men, who stepped aside to permit the dogs to take center stage. His expression clearly said most people don’t get visitors at six o’clock in the morning. When he realized Lucy wasn’t going to introduce him, he fastened the leashes onto the dogs’ collars so he could lead the pair down the driveway.

“Looks like a nice guy,” one of the agents said.

Lucy eyed the two gray suits, hoping the fear she was experiencing didn’t show on her face. “He’s my neighbor. I sprained my ankle yesterday. As you can see, he came over to walk the dogs. Isn’t it a little early for a visit from the FBI? What do you want?”

“We stopped by the tennis court and track, but you weren’t there. We thought something might have happened to you.”

“Something did happen to me. I slipped on a patch of ice yesterday and sprained my ankle. I also gave my head a good crack.” She fingered the bump on her head and winced. “I repeat, what do you want?”

Instead of answering her question, the second agent said, “Was that Mr. Banks on the phone?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Agent Conover. Why are you here? I told you yesterday I don’t know anything about Jonathan’s business. If I don’t know anything, how can I possibly help you?”

Lucy wondered how two men could wear identical blank expressions.

“Then why did you go to his apartment yesterday? Did you leave him a note or a warning? That’s another way of saying we don’t believe you.”

Pretend outrage rang in Lucy’s voice. “You followed me!”

“Why did you go there?” Agent Conover asked a second time. “You said you had never been to Mr. Banks’s apartment, but all of a sudden, after we spoke, you suddenly wanted to visit your fiancé’s apartment. I guess you were a little surprised to see that it was empty.”

Conover had her there, and she knew it. Lucy motioned to the two agents to follow her into the kitchen. She nodded as she watched the water drip through the coffeepot. She turned on one foot and reached into the cabinet for a cup. One cup. There was no way she was going to offer these two a cup of coffee. She tried unobtrusively to sneak a look at the clock on the range to see how much time she had before Jonathan called back. A precious few minutes. “Since you know the apartment is virtually empty, I hope you had a search warrant when
you
entered.”

The agents ignored her comment. “We have it on good authority that Mr. Banks will be joining you for Thanksgiving. That’s six days from now. We were going to ask you to come into our office in Manhattan, but seeing as how you’re slightly incapacitated, we can have our superiors come here. We need to talk, Miss Baker. We want you to help us.”

The words sounded so ominous that Lucy felt herself cringe. What exactly did they mean by
help
?

“How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t know anything about Jonathan or his business. Yes, I was upset yesterday after we spoke. I didn’t believe what you said about my fiancé. That’s why I went to his apartment. In case you don’t already know, I picked the lock. I don’t know why there isn’t any furniture other than a few chairs and tables. Maybe Jonathan doesn’t like the area, or maybe he can’t break his lease. He’s only in the city a few days at a time. Perhaps he likes staying at a hotel where everything is done for him. I simply don’t know. There’s nothing I can do to help you because I don’t know anything. What right do you have to come here and turn my life upside down this way?”

Agent Conover looked pointedly at his watch. “We’ll call you to set up an appointment. Be sure to answer your phone, Miss Baker.”

The moment Lucy opened the door to usher the two men out, Wylie and the dogs blasted through. She would have slammed and locked the door if not for Wylie and the dogs. Wylie unhooked the two leashes and hung them on the peg on the coatrack. Lucy thanked him and waited to see what he was going to do. Instead of leaving, he followed the dogs to the kitchen. She groaned as she locked the door behind the two agents.

In the kitchen, Lucy watched as Wylie handed out chews to the two dogs, who trotted off to the living room. It irritated her that her neighbor was making himself so at home.

“Talk about your steely-eyed whoever and whatever they are. Those guys looked like CIA wannabes to me. Are you okay, Lucy? You look worried. Is something wrong?”

Lucy brushed at the hair that was falling over her forehead, aware suddenly of how she looked and what she was wearing—a faded plum-colored sweat suit. The phone rang at that precise moment. Answer it, not answer it? Lucy opted for the latter.

“It’s just my brother. He calls every morning before he goes to work. That old sibling thing. With eight brothers and sisters I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about.” She hated the sound of desperation ringing in her voice.

“Well, sort of. No one calls to check on me except my mother, and she only calls on Sunday afternoon. Two o’clock sharp, and woe is me if I’m not there to answer. Can I have a cup to go? Listen, I’ll be home early to walk the dogs. Please don’t even try going out. The roads are sheets of ice.”

Lucy grimaced. “Okay,
Dad.”

Wylie laughed as he made his way to the front door, coffee cup in hand. He waved, then shouted, “Take good care of my dog.”

“Don’t forget to pick up some stuff for Nellie’s party.” They sounded like an old married couple, Lucy thought.

Back in the kitchen, Lucy looked at the small four-cup coffeepot and decided to make another pot. When the phone rang, she sucked in her breath, and, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, said, “Hello!” It was Agent Conover calling to say the meeting would be at three o’clock that afternoon.

Wonderful, one more thing to worry about!
The phone rang a second time just as she poured fresh coffee into her cup. This time it was Jonathan with an edge to his voice. Another time, another place, and the hardness might have bothered her. “Where are you, Jonathan?” she asked, not sounding completely friendly herself. The question surprised him. She could tell by the gap in the conversation.

“Buenos Aires. Why?”

“Just curious. I thought you were in Guatemala. Sometimes you remind me of a phantom. You’re here, you’re not here; then you’re there, and you’re not there. Whatever will you do when you don’t travel as much?”

“Spend all my time with you. You sound different this morning. I tried calling you a few minutes ago, but there was no answer.” To Lucy’s ears, the statement sounded accusatory. Normally, she’d fall all over herself with an explanation as to why she hadn’t answered the phone. Just then she didn’t feel like acting normal. She was also feeling a smidgen of guilt about Wylie. “I sprained my ankle yesterday, Jonathan, as I told you. My neighbor came to walk the dogs, and I had to be hospitable because tonight is Nellie’s going-away party. Are you in a hurry or something? It seems to me you’re always in a hurry when you call me.” She knew he would be able to detect the anger she was feeling in her voice. She didn’t care.

“No, I’m not in a hurry. It just wasn’t like you not to answer the phone. I like knowing you’re sitting there waiting for me to call. I’m looking forward to seeing you. Are we eating in or going out for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“I’ll leave that up to you, Jonathan, but tell me now if you want me to cook, so I can order the turkey from the butcher. Are you going to be staying here or at your apartment?”

“With you. I’ll stop by to pick up my mail and repack my suitcase. I’m heading off to Madrid when I leave on the Sunday after Thanksgiving.”

Lucy knew a lie when she heard it. Almost to a man, every client she’d ever had lied at some point. Even her brother lied sometimes. She wondered if Wylie was a liar, too. More likely than not, Jonathan would get a phone call the day after Thanksgiving and off he’d go. It was his pattern. “You’re only staying for a few days! When will you be back?”

“For Christmas. For ten whole days. Let’s try to get away for a few days? How does four days in Aruba sound? Or we could go back to Amelia Island and get in some golf.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Lucy said. She wondered when he was going to ask her about her ankle or the bump on her head. Did she tell him about cracking her head? She couldn’t remember, and in the end, what difference did it make? He wasn’t going to ask her how she was, that was the bottom line.

“Lucy, I have a client who could really use your services. I’d take it as a personal favor if you’d come out of your self-imposed retirement to represent him. It’s a million in legal fees easy. I want to talk about it when I get there for Thanksgiving.”

They’d had this conversation so many times, Lucy had lost count. She wasn’t in the mood to go three more rounds with Jonathan, not with the FBI spying on her. They were probably listening to her phone conversation at that very moment.

Jonathan took her silence to mean he’d finally worn her down. “Any more news on your appointment to the bench?”

Actually, there was news, but she wasn’t about to share it with Jonathan. She’d been dropped from the list of possible candidates. “No, not really. Why do you ask?”

“Because I’d like to see you wearing a black robe. Preferably with nothing on under it.” He chuckled at his own wit. “Seriously, you earned it, Lucy. I don’t want to see you do something you’ll regret later on. Besides, I think it will be a real hoot to introduce you as, my wife, the judge.” He laughed then. His laugh wasn’t half as nice as Wylie’s laugh, Lucy decided. She felt disloyal all over again.

Lucy thought about all the seed pearls for her gown and the wedding invitations on her dining room table.

“I’m being paged, Lucy. I have to go. I’ll see you on Wednesday. Let’s eat in. Just you and me. Promise you’ll dream about me.”

“Oh, I’ll dream about you, all right, Jonathan. Have a safe trip home,” Lucy said curtly.

“I love you.”

This was where she was supposed to return the sentiment. She couldn’t force the words past her lips. She pressed the button to disconnect the call. In doing so, she hoped this wasn’t one of those things she’d come to regret later on.

•   •   •

It wasn’t until she showered and washed her hair that she started to feel strange. The bump on her head seemed to be smaller than it was the night before, the size of a peanut. She wondered if she might have a concussion. When her head hit the road it had been almost incidental compared to the pain in her ankle. She wondered if the electric current that ran up her side had anything to do with the ferocious headache pounding behind her eyes. She’d been more concerned with her ankle than the dull, throbbing headache that had just blossomed into a full-blown, mind-bending headache. Lucy washed down a handful of aspirin and crawled into bed. Maybe if she slept for a few hours in her own bed, the headache would let up.

When she woke, it was noon. Lucy’s ankle felt better, but she still had a dull pounding inside her head. She lay quietly for a few moments, trying to identify the sounds she was hearing. The television must be on. If not, someone was in her house chattering up a storm. She made her way to the bathroom to swallow more aspirin, then headed for the kitchen, where she ate a bowl of cereal. She shrugged when she realized the television wasn’t on.

Lucy let the rambunctious dogs out into the backyard, satisfied that the ground was frozen and they wouldn’t return full of mud. Five minutes later they scampered back in and immediately ran down the hall to the guest room, where Sadie kept all her junk. Lucy headed for the couch, walking gingerly to avoid putting pressure on her ankle. She called Nellie to explain the situation and express her regrets about not being able to attend the going-away party.

Lucy realized she had nothing to do until three o’clock, when the FBI agents would arrive.

She finally admitted to herself that she was bored. The law had been her life. Maybe she needed to think about going back to the firm and taking on only those cases where she was convinced her client was innocent. As if that were even possible.

Lucy leaned her head against the back of the sofa. Her ears were starting to hurt. She wondered what that meant. Maybe she was coming down with a bug of some kind. It was almost three o’clock. Time for her visitors. If she didn’t help the agents, they could charge her with obstructing justice. When they got done with her, she’d never practice law again.
Oh, God, Jonathan, how could you put me in such a position?

To pass the time, Lucy made herself a grilled cheese sandwich with a small green salad. She barely tasted what she was eating because her brain was going ten miles a minute as she tried to figure out what was going to happen to her life. Her thoughts were so scattered she felt like a kaleidoscope was inside her brain. In brilliant color. She had to keep blinking her eyes to ward off the blurriness.