The Nosy Neighbor

by Fern Michaels

  The bag was too heavy to carry, so she dragged it to the garage. The moment she opened the door she got a whiff of old garbage. She looked down at the five trash bags. She knew without a doubt the smell would invade the house if she didn’t remove it. Since Wylie had shoveled a path to the road she could drag the bags down the path and dump them at the side of the road. If nothing else, the contents would freeze and kill the odor.

  Lucy walked back into the house for her parka. First, though, she checked on the dogs. They were all sleeping side by side. Jake was still on the phone, and she could hear the water running upstairs. Wylie was as good as his word, using up all the hot water. She peeked into the oven. Everything was roasting nicely.

  Lucy made her way to the garage, where she dragged all of the trash bags to the front door. Before she opened the door she tied the strings to the parka hood, put on boots and mittens. Using her feet she shoved the bags out the door and then closed it. The cold air was sharper than razor wire, the wind and swirling snow almost blinding her as she dragged the bags to the end of the shoveled path. Maybe, she thought, this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  Huffing and puffing, Lucy was pushing and sliding the third bag to the end of the shoveled path when she saw the old man who seemed to be waving to her. Who was he? Did he need help? Maybe he was visiting someone on the street? He looked like he was in distress. She shouted, “What’s wrong?” just as the man approached the end of the path that Wylie had shoveled.

  Two things happened instantaneously. She heard Coop’s and Sadie’s shrill barks, and she tripped over the garbage bags just as the man’s hand reached out to grab her.

  The voice was menacing when he said, “Pick up your feet and move, goddammit! Into the house. I have a gun, and I’ll use it.”

  “Jonathan!” Lucy gasped in horror.

  “In the flesh! Unless you want to die right here, move!”

  Oh, God! Oh, God! Why hadn’t she heard him? Instead of moving, she took a deep breath and screamed Wylie’s name. A second later she felt Jonathan’s hand clamp over her mouth. Scared out of her wits at Jonathan’s intentions she allowed herself to be dragged up the path to the front door. She could hear Coop body-slamming the door. Where was Wylie? Was Jake still on the phone? The dogs’ shrill barking should have alerted both men by now. In her struggle, Lucy looked over her shoulder. She couldn’t see a soul. She knew anyone looking out their window would think the old man was helping her or vice versa.

  They were almost to the door when it blew open. Wylie in a bathrobe, water dripping from his head and face stood transfixed. Jake appeared out of nowhere.

  Jonathan released his hold on Lucy and pushed her through the door. She literally slid across the wet tile floor.

  Jake bent down to help Lucy to her feet, never taking his eyes off the man who had burst through the door. Seeing the gun in Jonathan’s hand, he said, “Whoa! Whoa! Take it easy.”

  One hand in Coop’s collar, the other in Sadie’s collar, Wylie did his best to restrain both animals. Lucy knew Wylie was keeping the dogs from attacking Jonathan who wouldn’t think twice about shooting them. That left Lulu, who danced and pranced and yipped but well out of Jonathan’s way, the crazy pink polka-dotted bow jiggling furiously. Jake bent down to pick up the yapping dog. He whispered something to the quivering little dog and she quieted immediately.

  “Back up, all of you. Into the den. That goes for the dogs, too. If any of you make a move, I’ll shoot! Better yet, put those damn dogs in the garage. Do it now!” Jonathan shouted louder than necessary. “The rat goes in there, too,” he said, waving the gun in Lulu’s direction. He stepped back to make sure neither man nor dog got too close. Then, the gun steady in his hand, he shrugged out of the heavy oversize jacket and let it drop to the floor. The gun never wavered. His stance was steady and firm. Even from where she was standing, Lucy could see how his eyes were glittering. Right then she wanted to kill him with her bare hands.

  No one argued with Jonathan’s order.

  Lucy bit down on her lip as she tried to harness her new ability. Concentrate, she told herself. Shift into neutral. This isn’t happening. It’s all a bad dream. She heard it then but it wasn’t Jonathan. It sounded like…it sounded like Agent Connors. Almost there…c’mon, c’mon, move this damn thing…the house…barking…What did that mean, almost there? Did there mean here? This house? The dogs were barking. Were the agents close enough to hear the dogs? She heard the faint sound of the snowplow then and almost fainted. If so, that meant three agents with guns.

  “Don’t do it, Wylie! Don’t lock the dogs up. Your days, Jonathan, of telling me what to do are over. If you’re going to do it, do it now!” Lucy snarled, hoping to divert his attention so either Wylie or Jake could tackle him.

  Wylie had his hand on the knob of the door to the garage when Lulu leaped out of Jake’s arms. The Yorkie was a five-pound dynamo as she flew back to the den and attacked Jonathan from the rear, leaping up to latch on to the back of his pants, which were far too big. Her teeth in the material, she tugged and tugged until his trousers started to slip down toward his knees. Off-balance now, he was taken by surprise and was whirling and twirling trying to shake off the tenacious little dog. Lulu held on for dear life but was losing the polka-dotted bow she was so proud of.

  “Get this goddamn dog off me!” Jonathan roared, just as Coop jerked free of Wylie’s hold.

  One hundred pounds of solid dog moved at the speed of light, but the retriever didn’t go for Jonathan’s throat; he went to his back and ripped Lulu from her precarious perch. Wylie moved even faster and kicked the gun out of Jonathan’s hand. Jake picked it up as the two men squared off, the dogs howling and barking. Both men were at a disadvantage, Wylie in a robe and Jonathan with his sagging trousers. Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them in time to see Wylie sitting on Jonathan’s chest while Jake held the gun pointed directly at Jonathan’s head.

  Lulu, furious at being left out of all the excitement, marched over to the prone man and bit his ear. Lucy bent down and picked her up. “We have to tie him up. With wire. With something he can’t get out of. Let’s put him in the garage so he can freeze. Do it quick, Wylie, I can’t stand looking at him.” She was half-crying, half-sobbing. God, where were those agents?

  Jonathan struggled, but Wylie held his position. “You twitch again, you son of a bitch, and you’re dead!” Jonathan ignored him as he tried to buck Wylie off his chest. Wylie’s clenched fist smashed dead center in his Adam’s apple. “The wire’s on the shelf in the garage, Lucy. Get it.”

  “Okay. I see it. There’s a whole spool, enough to wrap him up like a mummy.”

  “Coop, sit on this guy. If he moves, rip out what’s left of his throat.”

  Coop sat.

  Five minutes later, Leo Banks, alias Jonathan St. Clair, was trussed and ready to go in the garage. “Wylie, can he talk?” Lucy asked.

  “I doubt it. Why?”

  “Why? I want to know the why of it all. I deserve to know why he did this to me.”

  “Because he could, Lucy. The important thing is he didn’t get away with it. I crushed his larynx. He should be in a hospital, but we aren’t going to worry about that right now. The FBI can deal with him if they ever get here. It’s okay, Lucy, we got him. You’re never going to have to worry about this guy again.” Wylie opened the door and pushed Banks through. Then he took a second strand of wire and looped it through the garage door handle. He looked at the others and grinned. “If he so much as jiggles, he’s going to go up and down like a yo-yo.” He slammed the door shut and smacked his hands together. “Damn, I do good work! You can put that gun away now, Jake.”

  “Why didn’t I hear him, Jake? I heard the agents. Why? Do you think it’s gone, my talent or whatever we’re calling it?”

  “I don’t know, Lucy, but I seriously doubt it. My guess would be that St. Clair simply wasn’t thinking. He was operating by rote if that makes sense. He was simply doing what he thought he h
ad to do and wasn’t thinking about it. Time will tell.”

  “I hate it that that man is in your garage. I heard those agents a little while ago. Where are they?”

  The doorbell rang at that exact moment. Jake answered it. The agents blew into the house, guns drawn. They looked around, puzzled expressions on their faces. “Thank God you’re all right. The damn plow stopped dead at the corner. It took us a good fifteen minutes to trudge our way up here,” Agent Connors said. “Listen up, we have a plan.”

  Lucy started to laugh and couldn’t stop. “C’mere, Agent Connors,” she said leading the woman to the door leading to the garage. She flipped on the light switch. “Allow me to introduce Leo Banks.” Lucy stepped aside so the other two agents could see their quarry. “He’s all yours.”

  Lucy left the men to explain the situation to the FBI agents. She returned to the kitchen and her Thanksgiving dinner. She thought about setting the table in the dining room but decided on the kitchen. For some strange reason people were always more comfortable eating in the kitchen.

  As she was stirring the gravy the Chinese fire drill inside her head returned. Lucy stopped what she was doing and turned up the volume on the television set sitting on the counter so the sound would drown out her thoughts.

  Suddenly, her kitchen was full of people. Good people, all of them. Dinner was ready to be served but not just yet. She stared at the trio of agents. There had been a point in time when she’d considered them her enemy. Now she viewed them as her saviors. Not that she was discounting Wylie’s and Jake’s efforts. Three wise men. No, two wise men and one very wise, compassionate woman. She suddenly felt safer than she’d felt in days. “Can I get you some coffee and brandy? You’re just in time for dinner. You have no idea, no idea at all of how glad we are to see you.”

  “Yes, Miss Baker, I’ll take a brandy and a cup of hot coffee,” Sylvia said. “I was terribly worried about you three,” she said simply. “I’m on duty, but at this point in time I don’t much care. I have never been so cold in my whole life. Something smells wonderful. We all have a lot to be thankful for on this day.”

  Lucy didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded.

  And then it was time to say grace and get down to the serious business of eating dinner. They all bowed their heads as Lucy said grace. The familiar words warmed her heart. She looked around her table. Everyone was smiling. Really smiling. Her thoughts totally clear, she waited for the bowl of mashed potatoes to be passed to her.

  She felt Wiley’s knee touch hers under the table. She grinned from ear to ear. Now, everything was perfect.

  Along time later, a group of new agents appeared via snowplow and carted Leo Banks away. The agents all shook hands. Sylvia Connors wrapped her arms around Lucy and whispered, “The guy’s a hunk. Don’t you dare let him get away. If you invite me to your wedding, I’ll be sure to come.”

  I knew she was aces. These other clods…just men…They don’t know the first thing about women…I hope she’s happy…The dogs are super. Makes me want to get one.

  So she still had her talent. That was okay. She’d learn to work around it. Lucy nodded at the agent in agreement.

  Lucy and Wylie, their arms around each other’s waists, stood watching until the agents were down at the end of the street before they closed the door.

  “I thought they’d never leave,” Wylie said reaching for her.

  “Hmmm, let’s do what we do best, Wylie.”

  “And what might that be, Lucy Baker?”

  Lucy crooked her finger before she reached for his shirt collar to drag him behind her to the stairs. “You talk too much, Wylie Wilson. Actions are better than words.”

  “Lucy Baker, you are a woman after my own heart,” Wylie bellowed as he galloped up the steps behind her.

  Epilogue

  Lucy stared at her reflection in the pier glass, remembering the dream she’d had months earlier. She looked like a bride, and she felt like a bride. She crossed her fingers that nothing would go awry, not today or any other day. Please, she prayed silently, let me be happy. Please.

  “You look beautiful, Lucy,” Wylie’s mother, Esther, said warmly as she kissed her almost-new-daughter-in-law’s cheek. She brought her ear closer to Lucy’s ear, and whispered, “Please be as good to my son as I know he’ll be to you. My son loves you so much he aches with the feeling.” Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise, and Esther laughed. “Wylie told me about your dream, and he told me to say that to you.” She hugged Lucy, careful not to disturb the satin gown or the veil hanging to Lucy’s shoulders.

  They were every bit as wonderful as Wylie said they were. The sisters were petite versions of Wylie, each with Wylie’s sense of humor. She had loved them on sight. And they seemed to love her in return. She felt a moment of sadness that they would be moving away, but Wylie said one of the advantages of having a large family was that someone was always visiting. The brothers, both tall and good-looking like Wylie, were replicas of his handsome father, which meant she would have beautiful children.

  Lucy looked around at Rachel Muller, Nellie, and the other neighbors gathered in her bedroom, along with the female side of Wylie’s family. “I wish I had the words to tell you how happy I am.”

  Wylie’s mother laughed. “You don’t need any words, dear. It shows on your face. Welcome to the family. I want lots of grandchildren, remember that.”

  Lucy flushed a rosy red. Then she grinned. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “I’m glad you decided on a backyard wedding. The flowers are in bloom, and we decorated everything. It’s more intimate if you know what I mean. And the dogs can attend. Wylie took the fences down last week, so we have three yards for the overflow. It’s perfect, Lucy, and the weatherman cooperated.” Nellie looked at Esther and the sisters, and asked, “We really do have enough food, right?”

  “More than enough, and I even made a meat loaf for Coop. All they have to do is say, I do, then we can party up a storm. I heard the DJ warming up a little while ago,” Esther said happily.

  Steven opened the bedroom door and stared at his sister. “Jeez, you look…great! The minister is ready. Wylie’s about to collapse, and the guests are assembled, all 150 of them. It’s time, Lucy.”

  Lucy rushed over to her brother. “I’m glad you’re giving me away, Steven. I’m glad you’re my brother. We need to say nice things to each other more often.”

  “Okay.”

  “Your neighbor, Mrs. Henderson, has her little organ all ready to play ‘The Wedding March.’ You ready, Lucy? Everyone is ready. Can we do it now? I’m nervous, can you tell?”

  “I never would have guessed.” Lucy smiled as the women moved past her to go downstairs to take their seats. She reached for the basket of flowers that Nellie had arranged from her garden when she looked down to see Lulu decked out in a jeweled collar and matching ribbon in her hair. She tried to claw her way up Lucy’s gown. The hell with protocol. She reached down for the little dog and plopped her in the middle of the basket of flowers. “Okay, little brother, I’m ready. Are you sure Wylie is okay?”

  “Hell no, he’s not okay. He’s in a stupor. Coop won’t leave his side. Someone tied a blue ribbon around his neck, and he does not like it one little bit.”

  “Who? The dog or Wylie?”

  Steven laughed. “I hear our cue. Just be happy, Lucy. That’s all I want for you.”

  Lulu yipped as Lucy started down the steps and continued to yip right up to the moment the bride took her place in front of the minister, at which point she settled down in the middle of the flower basket and went to sleep.

  Lucy looked through her veil at Wylie, her heart swelling with love. This was forever and ever.

  Ten minutes later, the minister said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride!” Wylie obliged with gusto. “I love you, Mrs. Wilson!”

  “I love you, Mr. Wilson.”

  Mrs. Henderson hit the keyboard with the same amount of gusto, and ever
yone shouted their congratulations as the happy couple made their way outside to mingle with their guests.

  “I think everyone is here that we invited,” Wylie said happily. “It’s nice to have friends like this.”

  “I didn’t see the agents. Did they make it?”

  “Yes, Mason and Lawrence brought their wives, and Connors got some tall dude who looks like he climbs mountains for a living. Oh, look, here they come.”

  Introductions were made, and everyone kissed the bride. The men shook hands.

  Sylvia Connors drew Lucy to the side and handed her a small flat gift wrapped in shiny white paper and topped with a huge silver bow. Her eyes sparkled when she said, “I wonder if you’d mind opening this now, Lucy.”

  Lucy reached for the package, and said, “Is that your guy? He sure is big! Is he the one?”

  Special Agent Connors flushed and nodded. “Yes, he’s the one. He belongs to our hiking club. His name is Sven. He’s Norwegian. Will you hurry up already and open the present.”

  The shiny white paper and silver bow fell to the ground as Lucy gaped at the picture she was holding. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Wylieeee! Look, it’s…it’s Jonathan.”

  The picture wasn’t all that good but the message was clear. Leo Banks wearing handcuffs and a baggy, orange suit glared at the camera at his arraignment.

  “One of my colleagues took the picture. I wanted you to start off your new life knowing the man who caused you such grief will be locked up for the rest of his natural life. Have a good life, Lucy.”

  Tears gathered in Lucy’s eyes as she hugged the agent. “Thank you.” She handed the picture back to the agent along with the wrapping.

  “Not to worry, I bought you some eight-hundred-thread-count sheets. This,” she said indicating the picture, “isn’t your wedding present.” The agent laughed as she walked away with her new beau.

  “Wow!” was all Wylie could say.

  If I wasn’t married, and if Wylie hadn’t gotten there first, I’d snatch her up in a heartbeat.