Trading Places

by Fern Michaels

  “Yes. Do you want to tell me why?”

  “No. You’re smart, Aggie, you’ll figure it out. I have Millie in the car, and we’re leaving now. We’re square now. You’re a good cop, Aggie. One of the best I ever worked with. If Millie knew, she’d thank you, too. Have a great life.”

  Lizzie blinked as she looked down at the phone in her hand.

  “That was Zack Miller. He said I was to take my car and Tom’s, too, and put them someplace safe. He didn’t elaborate. I guess we better do what he says. Aggie said she knew it was too good to be true that her car was untouched. Where’s a safe place? I don’t know that much about Atlanta. Nathan, do you know a safe place where we can hide two cars?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Artie Bennigan, a friend of mine, gave me a key to his house because he’s forever losing his keys. It’s in my desk drawer at the office. Actually, he gets the keys made by the dozen, and I’m the keeper of the keys. I give it to him when he locks himself out, which is at least twice a week, then he never gives the keys back because he either loses or misplaces them. Anyway, he has a two-car garage. We can slide his Beemer out and leave it in the driveway and put yours and Tom’s cars inside.”

  “Nathan, you are the marvel in marvelous.” Lizzie inched closer to give him a hearty lip-smacking kiss. She wanted the kiss to go on forever but knew there would be time later. Now, they had to take care of business. Nathan groaned when she said, “Up and at ’em, big guy. We have work to do. I hate waking up the Madsens at this hour, but we gotta do it. We’ll do Tom’s car first, then mine, okay? I’ll call on the way to alert the Madsens. We don’t want a whole bunch of lights going on all of a sudden to alert the neighborhood.”

  “One of these days I have to get some sleep, Lizzie. I’m going on adrenaline.”

  “Okay, we’ll sleep tomorrow night. No, we can’t. I have to get back to the girls. We’ll figure something out, Nathan, I promise.”

  Nathan was on his feet looking down at her. He reached for her hand. “I’m falling in love with you. I want you to know that.” Lizzie bit down on her lower lip. She wanted to say, I’m falling in love with you, too, but she didn’t. Plan B didn’t allow for falling in love. Instead, she smiled and hugged him, hating the way his eyes clouded over, as though he knew what she was thinking.

  The night seemed exceptionally quiet. Almost as quiet as Lizzie and Nathan tooling along the side streets on their way to the Madsen house.

  Lizzie stared out at the quiet night. She rolled the window down so she could smell the warm evening air. She loved springtime. “Should I try the number again, Nathan? It’s well after midnight. Where could they be? Do you think they’re sound sleepers? I always thought as you got older you slept less and were light sleepers. I know I read that somewhere.”

  Nathan turned to look at his companion. “Is it possible they’re out of town?”

  “Mrs. Madsen said they didn’t get to visit their daughter too often. I think the daughter lives in Seattle. That’s how I got confused with Daniel Fargo. I’m dithering here, Nathan. Help me out.”

  “I don’t know too much about elderly people, Lizzie. My parents are always in the house by ten because my dad likes to watch the late-evening news. He has a bowl of cornflakes, gets into his pajamas, and watches the news. It’s a ritual. It’s one of those absolute musts that he be home by ten. He makes my mother nuts with his routines. Maybe the Madsens are like that.

  “It’s hard to see the street signs. I think it’s one block over. Will you be able to recognize the house if we can’t read the house numbers?” Nathan asked.

  Lizzie peered out into the darkness. “I think so. Drive slow. Their mailbox is at the end of the driveway. It’s white with flowers painted on it. It matches their trash can. The flowers I mean. The trash can is white, too. I remember thinking Mrs. Madsen must have painted it herself. Okay, there it is. There’s a car in the driveway. If they went away, they didn’t go by car. Since it’s a one-car garage, do you suppose Tom’s car is really inside?”

  Nathan turned off his headlights and drove up the driveway and parked behind the Madsens’ car.

  “You try the back door, and I’ll go around front. Just keep your finger on the bell until a light goes on.”

  Lizzie did as instructed. She finally removed her index finger from the bell when Nathan appeared. She shook her head. “Maybe they went to see their daughter. What do you think we should do?”

  “Let’s try the garage. It’s detached, so that means there’s a door on the side. Maybe they’re like Daniel Fargo and don’t keep it locked. Sometimes keys can be a pain in the neck. Now if you were a real cop, you could jimmy the lock with one of those picks you see cops use in the movies. Do you have a hairpin or something?”

  “No, I don’t have a hairpin or something. It’s locked.” Disgust rang in Lizzie’s voice.

  “If this is a senior citizen housing development, we need to get out of here. Cops patrol senior neighborhoods. My dad told me that. Seniors are nocturnal. My mom and dad prowl around all night long. My mother loves looking out the window to see if anything is going on. Someone might see us, report us to the cops. One or possibly more of the neighbors are probably looking out for the house. You know, keeping an eye on it, bringing in the mail and newspaper. My dad does it for Charlie Wilson when he goes on his golfing trips. How’s it going to look if cops show up here?”

  Lizzie felt like her heart was leapfrogging inside her chest. Common sense told her they should leave. She remembered the anxiety in Zack’s voice. The anxiety and the sense of urgency. Then she thought about her sister Aggie and her career. “Not good, Nathan. Let’s look around for an outside key. If we can’t find one, we’ll break one of the panes of glass. Mrs. Madsen loves Aggie. She won’t sign a complaint. She’ll understand if the cops call her after they talk to the neighbors. I know as sure as I’m standing here, one of these neighbors knows where they are and also knows the daughter’s phone number. This looks like one of those nice neighborhoods where people all look out for one another. Start looking, Nathan. Just don’t make any noise.”

  Nathan returned minutes later. “I came up dry. Maybe the Madsens don’t believe in leaving keys outside, especially after they were burglarized. It’s understandable. If you break that pane of glass, Aggie, you are going to make some serious noise. We can come back in the morning as soon as it gets light out. Seniors get up before dawn breaks. I don’t know why that is. My dad couldn’t wait to retire so he could sleep in. He gets up at quarter to five. My mother gets up at five. Oh, she’s awake, she just stays in bed so my dad will make the coffee. She said she did it for fifty years, and it’s his turn now.”

  Nathan was babbling, and it worried Lizzie. She wondered if she would ever get to meet the elder Hawks. Probably not. She grimaced in the darkness. Sometimes, things just didn’t work out no matter how hard you tried. Nathan was probably right, and they should leave.

  “All right, let’s go. We can go get my car and take it to your friend’s house. I’ll put it in neutral, and you can push me down the driveway. That way we won’t alert the dog or the girls. Are you okay with that, Nathan?”

  “Lizzie, I am not okay with any of this. Think about it. What the hell are we doing anyway. I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I’m going to give it to you anyway. I say we take the butterfly books to Chief Shay, you tell him what you suspect, and let the department and the commissioner and mayor do the rest. Aren’t you supposed to go to work tomorrow?”

  “Oh, God, I forgot about that. That means we have to break the glass and do it now. There’s no way I can do this in the morning. If you tap the glass, it should fall inward and cushion the sound. Or, you can take off your shirt, and I’ll hold it under the window to catch the glass if you’re worrying it will fall outward. We have to do it now, Nathan. I’ll look around for a stone or a brick. Don’t worry, I’ll be quiet.”

  Lizzie returned five minutes later with a stone that was a little bigger than a p
ebble from Mrs. Madsen’s flower garden. She gaped when she saw the door was wide open. “How’d you do that?” she hissed.

  “The tip of my penknife. I just wiggled and jiggled. I’ll close the door and hold my shirt up over the windows while you turn on the light.”

  Lizzie took a moment to admire Nathan’s naked torso before she turned to look at Tom Madsen’s black four-by-four. Her hands flew to her mouth when she saw how the car and windshield were riddled with bullets. “Aggie was in that car. She must have thought she was going to die that night. It’s a miracle she didn’t. The tires have been shot out, too. The Madsens must have had the car towed here. That means we can’t take it out of here, Nathan.”

  “Dammit, Lizzie, you mean this was all for nothing? Let’s just drive it on the rims. It’s no good anyway. We need to get out of here. When you open that garage door, it’s going to make noise. It might have an automatic light for all I know. Are you listening to me, Lizzie?”

  “Shhh. I’m thinking. How far away does your friend live from here?”

  “A couple of miles, and despite what I just said, I do not have a clue if the rims will hold up till we get there. If that’s your game plan, you’d better give some thought to what will happen if that car conks out in the middle of the road. What are you going to do?”

  “You will push it the rest of the way. I’m going to knock out the overhead fluorescent light with that shovel in the corner. I’ll open the door a little at a time so it won’t make noise. You push it down the driveway.”

  “Lizzieeeee! The Madsens’ car is parked outside.”

  “On the other side, Nathan. The driveway is big enough for two cars across. You parked behind the Madsens. We can do this. Okay, I’m going to crack that overhead bulb. I know exactly where it is, so turn out the light.”

  Nathan clenched his teeth when he heard the long cylinder fall on top of the car. “I thought you said you knew where the bulb was.”

  “I guess it wasn’t screwed in very tight. Stop worrying. Put your shirt on.”

  Nathan watched, holding his breath, as Lizzie inched the garage door up little by little until it was all the way up.”

  “Lizzie?”

  “Now what?”

  “How are you going to start up the car? You don’t have a key.”

  “Oh. I’ll hot-wire it. I used to work in a garage, remember. Trust me. Just push the car out, and it should roll down the driveway. Use those gorgeous muscles. Then follow me to the road and push me a little farther down the street. I don’t want to start it up here. If you know this area, stick to the side streets. Stay close behind me.”

  Gorgeous muscles. Nathan felt his chest puff out. He pushed, using his gorgeous muscles. He didn’t stop to wonder how Lizzie shifted the car into neutral.

  Lizzie’s gaze kept going to the passenger side of the car as she crawled along on the flat tires at ten miles an hour. Her sister had sat there that night, Gus in the backseat, while they waited for the action to start. How frightened she must have been. She felt herself shudder. “I’m going to make this right, Aggie. I’m mad now. Really mad.”

  Thirty-five minutes later, Lizzie looked at her watch. The time was 1:25 A.M. Several cars passed her two-car parade, then Nathan was ahead of her, signaling that he was going to turn into a driveway. Town houses. A yuppie haven. She sighed with relief. Yuppies were into themselves and not watching through windows. Unlike seniors, most yuppies had an aversion to the cops.

  Lizzie coasted to a stop when Nathan parked his Intrepid at the opposite end of the driveway while she stopped at the curb. She crept out of the car, the engine running.

  It was dark, the streetlights being situated at each end of the block. Artie Bennigan lived in the middle. A few lamppost lights glowed dimly toward the end of the street. The yuppies probably either forgot to turn them out, or they weren’t home yet.

  Lizzie’s heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest when Nathan opened the garage door. Moments later, the Beemer, Nathan at the wheel, slid backward until it was on the street. Like a crab, he scuttled over to where she waited and motioned for her to drive into the garage. She did, the rims grinding on the concrete driveway. Somewhere between the Madsens’ house and here, all the tires had peeled away. She felt like she was sitting on the ground.

  The minute she was inside the garage, the light out, Lizzie hopped out of the car. She was dizzy with relief. Nathan, what she could see of his expression, looked like he was going to black out at any second. She waved her hand in front of his face. “C’mon, Nathan, get with the program here. Let’s close the door and get the hell out of here.”

  Nathan took a great gulp of air, just as headlights swung onto Artie’s street at the corner. In seconds, he made a beeline for the Intrepid, and raced it up and into the garage. The door closed just as the approaching car was less than a building away. He grabbed Lizzie and smashed his lips against hers. She didn’t protest. He mumbled against her lips, “I think it’s a police cruiser on patrol. We live here, you and I, and I’m Artie Bennigan. Now let’s break away and head for the front door. I have the key. Slow and easy, Lizzie. We belong here. Son of a bitch, he’s stopping. Take the key and open the door. I’ll follow. Go on, Lizzie. Do not turn on the outside light. Move, dammit. They might recognize you.”

  Lizzie played her part in a high, trilling voice. “Hurry up, honey, you promised to make my night.”

  Nathan stepped onto the small patch of grass on the side of the driveway to get out of the glare of the police lights. Even so, the light was illuminating. “I’m coming sweetie. Just hold on.” He crossed his fingers that the cop in the cruiser was a rookie. Usually rookies got the midnight shift.

  “Anything wrong, Officer?”

  “Do you live here, sir?”

  “Yep. Me and the missus. Is something wrong?”

  “Is the Beemer yours, sir?”

  “Sure is, and let me be the first to tell you, you don’t want one. It’s in the shop more than on the road. My license and registration are in the car. Name’s Arthur Bennigan. I work for the Journal-Constitution. Hey, can I go in now? My wife is waiting for me?”

  “Go ahead. Next time you come home this late, don’t make so much noise.”

  “Okay, Officer. Sure. Have a nice night.” Seconds later he was in Artie Bennigan’s living room with Lizzie’s arms around him. He felt faint. They held on to each other. “Turn on one of the lights,” Nathan whispered.

  Lizzie obliged. “I think I’m going to be sick, Nathan.”

  His eyes wild, Nathan said, “No, you are not going to be sick. Take deep breaths. We need to sit down right here on these steps and calm down.”

  “What…what made you put your car in the garage, Nathan?” Lizzie hated the way her voice was cracking with the stress she was feeling.

  Nathan shook his head to clear it. “I don’t know why. Something just said, park it in the garage. Some kind of instinct, I guess. Guess I’m going to have to borrow Artie’s car for a little while. He won’t mind unless we smash it up. If we do, you, being rich and all, will have to spring for a new one.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Lizzie said agreeably. “What are the chances of your buddy Artie having some brandy? I could use a drink right now. I don’t know when I’ve ever been this rattled.”

  Nathan turned on a lamp in the living room. “Hey, this is nice. I’ve never been here before.”

  Lizzie looked around approvingly. There was no doubt that this was a man’s pad, but it was comfortably and tastefully decorated. “I bet his mother did all the decorating. It has a woman’s touch. Comfort first, good taste second. Why do men always think they have to be surrounded by dark colors like burgundy, hunter green, dark brown? Is it a cave-dwelling thing or what?” Nathan burst out laughing.

  “Found some plum brandy,” Nathan called from the dining room, where Lizzie could see him holding up a bottle. “Let’s just swig from it and not dirty glasses, okay?”

  “Okay with me. O
h, look, your friend smokes. Let’s sit down for a minute, Nathan, and relax. We can smoke a cigarette and unwind. I don’t mind telling you, I almost peed my pants out there when I saw that cop car. What do you think is in Tom’s car?”

  “God only knows, Lizzie.”

  They sat in silence, Lizzie staring at what she supposed was Artie Bennigan’s family. Two sisters, younger, hamming it up for the camera, parents who looked like parents, Artie in his cap and gown at some graduation, and the family dog, a dalmatian.

  She wondered if she would ever have a family picture on her mantel. Sadness engulfed her. She took another swig from the brandy bottle. Nathan, she noticed, wasn’t drinking, other than the first sip. Once he’d told her he didn’t drink and drive. She liked that about him, it made him a responsible person.

  She thought about her own philosophy, which was, work like you don’t need the money, love like you’ve never been hurt, and dance like no one is watching. She was jolted from her thoughts when Nathan poked her arm to get her attention.