The Nosy Neighbor (12 page)

“Why does Leo Banks need a fleet of cars? Why does he use digitally encrypted satellite phones? His laptop is encrypted, and he has enough firewalls installed to drive any encryption specialist to the brink of insanity. None of the above makes our job easier.” He asked again, “Are you following me, Miss Baker?”

Lucy nodded, her heart pumping furiously. God in Heaven, who was this man she’d promised to marry?

Special Agent Connors picked up the conversation. “That brings us to the house in Watchung that has your name on the deed. We’re a little concerned with the elaborate security attached to that property. Do you know anything about alarm systems, Miss Baker?”

Lucy licked at her dry lips. “I have an alarm system here in the house, but it’s standard. Keypad, panic button, all the doors and windows are armed. I put it on when I go to bed at night. My own personal feeling is a dog is the best security in the world. The only reason I have an alarm system at all is to make my brother feel better. He insisted I have it installed. So, to answer your question, no, I know nothing about sophisticated alarm systems. I also know nothing about the house in Watchung. I told you that already.” She tried to clear her mind, strained to pick up a word, but nothing was coming through.

Connors acted like she hadn’t heard Lucy’s words. “I believe Agent Lawrence informed you the other day of the house’s unusual security system complete with laser trip wires and tremor plates. But did he mention our experts tell us they suspect there are pressure pads in the house that would activate, and trigger alarms, as well as release an incapacitating gas? This is warfare type of security. Now, our question to you is, why would a person need that kind of security if, as you say, he is a legitimate broker and does business ethically and aboveboard?”

All Lucy could do was shake her head. “What is it you want me to do?” she whispered miserably.

“Help us to get our hands on Mr. Banks. When do you expect to see him again?”

Lucy could feel her stomach start to churn. “Jonathan was supposed to come for Thanksgiving, but he called the other day and said he couldn’t make it. He is coming for Christmas for ten days. I haven’t talked to him since. And, no, I did not tell him about any of our conversations. If I agree to help you, are you going to make…”

“Your immediate problem go away?” Agent Lawrence said. “We’ll discuss the matter with our superiors at Justice and get back to you. Tomorrow. This might be a good time for you to explain why you defended José Rafael and Manuel Aroya. Both men are associates of Leo Banks.”

“What?” Lucy sputtered.

Mason’s face showed disbelief. “You didn’t know?”

“No! No, I did not know.” Lucy hated herself for saying it, but she said it anyway. “I guess that’s why Jonathan was so upset when I said I was giving up the law after Aroya’s trial. Then I changed my mind and kept on working. Up until the acquittal came in, I thought he was innocent. Then he looked at me with this…this…smug look, and I knew he was guilty as hell. I was sick to my stomach. I knew right then I couldn’t do it anymore. Steven talked me into staying on. Jonathan was very upset. Then, after my last case, I finally made up my mind to hang it all up. Jonathan has been nagging me ever since to go back to the firm. I swear to you, I didn’t know those men knew Jonathan. All either one said to me at the initial consultation was that they had heard I was the best of the best and they needed the best. They had the money to pay my fees, and I don’t come cheap. Later on, Jonathan said he
knew of
José Rafael, and Aroya, but did not know either of them personally, and had followed the case in the papers. I had no reason not to believe him then.”

“They, as in Leo Banks and his people, would have put the squeeze on you if you’d been appointed to the bench. The house, the brokerage accounts, the cigarette boats, all of that would have been used to blackmail you,” Agent Lawrence said quietly.

Lucy fought down the bile that was rising in her throat. At the same time she strained to
hear
their thoughts, but to no avail. She looked down at the hands on her watch. How long was the tape in the cassette player? An hour on each side or was it a thirty-minute-sided tape? Would it make a sound when it clicked off? She didn’t know.

She had to get rid of the agents now. “I don’t think we have anything else to discuss. I’ll wait for you to get back to me tomorrow. What that means is this meeting is over.” To make her point, Lucy started for the door, the dogs following her.

The moment the door closed behind the federal agents, Lucy locked it and slumped against it. She was definitely in the tall grass now, and the view ahead was not to her liking.

The two men sat in Wylie’s kitchen staring at one another. Wylie spoke first. “What do you think, Jake?” He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it exploded out of his mouth like a gunshot.

“What I think, old buddy, is you have the hots for your neighbor, and you can’t see straight.” The parapsychologist shrugged. “Listen, I wouldn’t stake my reputation on it, but I think Lucy’s condition will fade in time. Right now she’s on a high unlike anything she’s ever experienced. Plus, she’s a woman, and women tend to get emotional, even women lawyers. Now, if her present condition isn’t what’s bothering you, I bet you’re worried about the man in her life who is responsible for all this. Right or wrong?”

Wylie ran his fingers through his hair before he got up to make a pot of coffee. “The bastard set her up,” he barked. “Yeah, I like her. I like her a lot, as a matter of fact. You don’t think she loves him, do you, Jake?”

“Nah. You know what I think, Wylie. I think she was
relieved
that this happened. That’s my own ESP at work. You got anything to munch on?” the handsome parapsychologist asked.

Wylie reached up to the top of the refrigerator and tossed Jake a bag of corn chips. He poured two cups of coffee and set them on the table.

“Coffee and corn chips don’t go together, Wylie. Don’t you have any Coke or Pepsi?”

“No. The weather’s been too bad to go to the store. Just drink the damn coffee already, Jake.”

“Testy, aren’t we.” Jake grinned. “You know, for a guy, this is a cozy, comfortable kitchen,” Jake said, changing the subject in the hopes of driving away the intense look on his friend’s face.

“My mother decorated the kitchen. She pretty much did the whole house after my ex cleaned me out,” Wylie said, waving his arms at the green-and-yellow balloon-type curtains, the matching yellow crockery, and the green plants, one in the corner by the bay window, one hanging over the sink, and one in the corner of the counter. All looked lush and green, with no yellowing leaves. “Mom said I have no decorating sense. She calls me every Sunday to make sure I water and feed the plants. It’s easier to follow through than it is to try and explain why they die. Been there, done that. Actually, Jake, I take great pride in my plants,” Wylie said defensively.

“Well, good for you. If there was ever a guy who should be married, it’s you. You really like Lucy, huh?”

Wylie rolled his eyes. He gulped at the scalding coffee in his cup, his eyes watering. “They should be leaving by now, don’t you think?”

Jake fished in the bag for a fistful of chips. He popped them in his mouth, one at a time, and crunched down. “You could check to see if their car is still there. That would be one way to find out.”

“Wiseass,” Wylie muttered as he sprinted to the living room window.

“You’re right, they’re leaving,” he shouted. “Should we be discreet and wait like two minutes or barrel over there right now?”

Jake shook his head. If his friend wasn’t in love, he was about to fall head over heels for his neighbor. “Whatever floats your boat, Wylie.”

“I think we should wait ten minutes, or so. I don’t want to seem…you know, pushy. Yeah, ten minutes is good. What should we do while we’re waiting, Jake?”

Jake’s face scrunched up in a grin. “When was the last time you got laid, Wylie?”

Wylie pretended horror. “Is that what you think this is all about, sex? Well, it isn’t. It’s about helping, understanding, being there, my dog loves her, and then maybe sex. Not in that order. Shut the hell up, Jake. Why’d you ask me that anyway? It’s none of your damn business.”

“We
are
prickly. Relax, Wylie.”

“Easy for you to say, Jake. You aren’t personally involved!” Wylie huffed.

•   •   •

As soon as the FBI agents left, the phone rang. Lucy was on her way to the kitchen in search of the brandy bottle. If there was ever a time in her life when she needed a drink, this was it. She didn’t hurry to answer the phone, thinking it was Wylie. She took a healthy swig straight from the bottle. Her eyes burning, she carried the bottle to the family room and answered on the speakerphone. Her greeting was flat when she said, “Hello.”

“Good afternoon, darling,” Jonathan St. Clair said cheerfully, his voice coming through the speakerphone loud and clear.

Lucy looked at the bottle she was holding, then at the phone on the table. She felt like pitching both into the fireplace. “Jonathan, I wasn’t expecting your call.” What an incredibly stupid thing to say.

“I’ve been thinking about you and missing you. I’m just so sorry I won’t be there for Thanksgiving. I just wanted you to know it’s tearing me apart. I promise to make it up to you over Christmas, though. I never break a promise, you know that. How are you, darling?”

Once the question would have thrilled her. Now, it scared the hell out of her. An actress she wasn’t, but she tried. “Well, Jonathan, I’m sad that you won’t be here. I do miss you, and I’m looking forward to spending the holidays with you. Should I wait to pick out the Christmas tree till you get here, or should I get it, put it up, and then, when you get here, we’ll decorate it?” Lucy felt sickened at the artificial lilt in her voice and wondered if Jonathan was picking up on it. He was not stupid, as she knew very well.

“I’m not one for tromping through fields to pick out a tree. I can, however, see myself putting the star on top.” The chuckle in his voice sounded forced to Lucy’s ears.

Lucy swigged from the brandy bottle. “Actually, Jonathan, I was planning on getting the tree from the Sunoco station where I get my gas. They deliver and set it up for a small fee.” She was feeling light-headed. Now, she wished she’d eaten more instead of picking at her food earlier. Drinking on an empty stomach was not a good idea.

“Do you miss me?”

“Of course. Do you miss me?” Lucy asked, in return, hoping that her voice did not give away just how much she did
not
miss him.

“More than you know. By the way, I’m on a plane headed for Switzerland. Would you like me to send you some Swiss chocolate? I know you have a sweet tooth.”

“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.