Jennifer Crusie - GETTING RID OF BRADLEY

“Actually, they’re here,” Anthony said.

“…and he can’t get out of town until he gets those bonds.”

Lucy frowned at him. “What safe-deposit box? We didn’t have a safe-deposit box.”

“We deduced a safe-deposit box,” Zack said. “Just like in the movies.”

“The only thing that John Bradley wants to do is get out of town,” Anthony told her. “And the only thing that would stop him would be if he didn’t have the bonds.”

“And the only reason he wouldn’t have them would be if somebody stole them, or he gave them to somebody for safekeeping,” Zack said.

“Bradley,” Lucy said. “He’d never steal, but the safe-deposit box sounds like him. He’s very careful.”

“But he doesn’t have a box at Gamble Hills,” Anthony said. “Now if we had a key, we could find the bank, and get a warrant, and open the box…”

“Bradley doesn’t have a key chain,” Lucy said. “He said it spoiled the line of his suit when he put a chain with a lot of keys on it in his pocket. He uses key fobs, one for each key. And then he keeps them in different pockets. He’s very organized.”

Anthony looked at Zack. “He lost the key. Here. Someplace here.”

“Listen,” Zack said. “Trust me. I’ve looked. I took up the couch cushions, I…”

“His chair,” Lucy said.

“What?”

“His chair. If he sat in his chair, the key could have fallen out of his back pocket and into the chair. It slopes. The back of the seat is lower than the front. Every time I sit in it, my knees are up high and I have to lean forward.”

“I remember,” Zack said. “The first time I was here. You were sitting in it, all folded up.” He started for the stairs. “Come on. It’s in the basement.”

THE CHAIR WAS EVEN MORE forlorn-looking than Lucy remembered. Falling through the stair rail hadn’t done a thing for it.

Zack started by pulling the seat cushion off and handing it to Lucy, who poked and prodded at it. “There’s no seam or anything here that’s open.” She tossed it down. “It’s just a cushion.”

Zack and Anthony had the chair upside down by then.

“Nothing,” Anthony said.

“The hell with this.” Zack took out his pocketknife and slashed the burlap fabric covering the chair bottom. They both peered inside it.

“Nothing,” Anthony said.

“Turn it right side up again.” Lucy knelt down in front of it when it was upright again. “When you sit in this chair, you tilt back, so anything that falls out of a pocket would go into the crease between the back cushion and the seat cushion.”

“I already checked,” Zack said. “I shoved my fingers clear to the back.”

Lucy shook her head. “But every time somebody sits down in this thing, it jerks forward and then flops back. Anything that fell in the crease two weeks ago could be anywhere in this chair by now. Give me your knife. ”

Zack handed it over. Lucy moved around to the back of the chair, slashed at the upholstery, and peeled it up. She pulled out the foam and the wadding and exposed the coils at the bottom of the back.

“If it’s anywhere, it’ll be here.” She crouched until her chin was almost on the ground, peering into the coils, and then reached her hand inside.

“Lucy,” Zack said. “I really did…”

His voice trailed off as Lucy pulled out a small key with a square black head, stamped with a number.

“How did you know?” Anthony said.

“Logic,” Lucy said.

“I’ll be damned,” Zack said.

AFTER HE LOCKED THE DOOR behind Anthony, Zack went back upstairs to find Lucy in her bedroom doorway, staring at the wreckage.

The windows were gone, replaced temporarily with boards, and the plaster ceiling sagged, and the hole in the middle of the bed had left it only a charred frame.

Lucy bit her lip. “I don’t care if it wasn’t a big bomb. It did a lot of damage. There wouldn’t have been much left of me.”

Zack put his arm around her. “You’ve got great instincts, kid, but we shouldn’t be here now. Close the door and come on upstairs.”

“My quilt.” Lucy looked down at the torn and stained mess on the floor.

Zack tried to be helpful. “It has to stay where it is for now. The lab people will be back tomorrow to look at it. But maybe after that we can fix it.” He looked down at it doubtfully. “Or something.”

Lucy tilted her head to look at it. “Is that the way it was on the bed?”

“I suppose. I pulled it straight off. Why?”

“It’s sideways. The square from the Confederate uniform goes at the top. I always put it at the top. Now it’s over here. That’s what I noticed, that the quilt wasn’t right.”

“Good for you.” Zack tightened his arm around her and pulled her away from the door. “Come on. We’re not supposed to be here.”

He closed the door and put the tape back across it, and they turned toward the stairs. Then from inside the room, there came a loud cracking noise and a massive thud.

Lucy stopped cold. “Was that another bomb?”

“No.” Zack opened the door to the attic stairs. “That was your ceiling. Falling. Don’t go back in there, okay?”

Lucy swallowed. “I don’t think I’m ever going to feel safe again.”

Zack felt a surge of anger. Lucy loved this house and now some creep was making it a hell for her.

Then she turned to him, and he forced himself to grin. “Well, I can guarantee that if you go upstairs and get into bed with me, you won’t be safe. I guarantee that you’ll be attacked immediately. All my instincts say so.”

Her eyes widened, and he held his breath.

“I thought we were finished,” Lucy said. “I thought you left.”

“I thought so, too.” Zack stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I can still go if you want. My instincts could be wrong, for once.”

Lucy shook her head slowly. “Your instincts are never wrong.”

“Good.” Zack breathed deeply again and jerked his thumb at the stairs. “Get moving.” She smiled at him suddenly, and he went dizzy just looking at her. “You know, I really like your hair,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

“Thank you,” Lucy said, and went up the stairs.

“You didn’t call Junior, did you?” Zack asked, and followed her.

ZACK WOKE UP THE NEXT morning, shifting against Lucy, feeling her warm weight as both a memory and a promise.

Thank God, he was back with her. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to stay with her. But he was going to have to be subtle. Take it slow. Think it through.

Then he looked down at Lucy, waking slowly, flushed and warm from sleep.

He’d think it through later.

Lucy yawned. He bent to kiss her, and she said, “Ouch.”

“What?”

“Whisker burn.” Lucy rubbed her cheek.

“I know, I know.” Zack started to roll out of bed. “I’ll shave.”

“No!” Lucy caught at his arm and pulled him back. “Don’t shave.” She snuggled up next to him. “I like it.”

“I thought on the porch the other day you said…”

“Well, I like waking up with you like this,” Lucy amended. “You’ll have to shave later to go to work, but I like it now. It reminds me of the first time I saw you.”

Zack wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him so he could see her better. “So it’s all right in bed, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” Lucy balanced her chin on her folded hands and smiled sleepily into his eyes. “It helps with one of my new fantasies.”

“Yeah?” Zack shifted a little to center her on top of him for maximum pleasure. “What new fantasy is that?”

Lucy grinned, the sleepiness in her smile melting into guile. “The one about the innocent schoolteacher and the vicious, uncivilized cop. Want to play?”