by Diane Bator
Roger hesitated then suddenly seemed more relaxed. He must have taken a few deep breaths. “Yes. I figure they should have a little vacation time after all the crap we put them through.”
We? Lucy’s face burned. He’d put them through all the crap and, now had the nerve to thrust part of his guilt on her. “Right. You’re going to take the kids, dump them with your parents and parade your new girlfriend all over the beach.”
Tanji was girlfriend number three, or was it four? At least Cynthia’s death hadn’t seemed to affect his libido much.
“You are so cynical.” Roger laughed with no humor in his voice. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Bile rose in her throat. Odd how he had that effect on her now.
“Lucy,” he said, his voice softening. “I wouldn’t do that. Give me a chance.”
“You had your chance.” She used to love him with her entire being, but thoughts of him sleeping with other women made her physically ill. He’d been her first and last. So far.
“And now I’m crawling back for the sake of our kids.” His voice softened. “Please. I just want to see them and I know for a fact they want to see me.”
“You’re a—” she started then paused, sensing someone else in the room with her.
Shawn’s eyebrows arched so high they nearly reached his hairline. “Can we, Mom?”
She let out a deep sigh and covered her eyes with one hand. Her son either eavesdropped on their call or had been a major part of setting the whole plan into motion. “Go downstairs, Shawn, I’ll talk to you in a minute.”
Her son’s nerve grating whine wasn’t what she needed to hear. “Aw, Mom, I wanna—”
“Please, go downstairs. I’ll be right down” Lucy struggled to keep her voice even. Deep breath. She’d stopped paying attention to Roger until he spoke again. Her mouth dropped open. “Did you really just say that?”
“What?” Roger sounded confused.
“You asked what I’ve done for you lately.” She pictured the smirk on his face. “You walked out on me and your three kids for some fifty-something year old, plastic-enhanced cougar who advertised lingerie.” Cynthia again. Did her memory haunt Lucy simply to torture her? She brushed all ghostly thoughts aside to focus on reality. “You rarely give me any money for support and now you want to what?”
He huffed. “A father wanting to take his kids on vacation for a week isn’t such an unusual request. Most dads in my situation would do the same.”
Her jaw tightened. “It’s odd for you. In the past year, you haven’t spent more than an afternoon with them. What are you up to?”
“Nothing.” Ice in his voice. Now that was the Roger she knew and loathed.
“Right.” She shook her head. “I know you better than that. We were married for eleven years, remember?”
“Believe me, I remember.” More icy tones.
She’d been faithful to him, made their home a comfortable sanctuary, and supported his business ventures, yet he’d turned his back on her . He’d walked away and told everyone she’d ruined his entire life. Only heaven and Roger Stephen knew what his reasons were, Lucy was still at a loss.
A sudden thought occurred to her. “You’re trying to impress someone aren’t you? Do you have a new girlfriend or something?”
Roger snorted. “Why would you even ask such a ridiculous question?”
His vehemence only meant Tanji was nearby. The twenty-five-year old hairdresser, was as dumb as she was beautiful, but must be doing something right. Roger took her to Cancun for their first date, e-mailed photos to the kids, then sent the obligatory t-shirts and seashells.
The only vacation she and Roger ever took together was a month-long honeymoon in Europe paid for by his parents. By the time they’d reached the Mediterranean, Lucy seriously considered tossing him in the sea and returning home alone. Then she suffered a horrible bout of morning sickness that hospitalized her for a couple days. Even pregnant and on their honeymoon, Roger had insisted she’d cheated on him.
Lucy sighed. How had she missed all the warning signs? Oh yeah, she’d been in love with the jerk.
Roger had a zillion excuses for not showing up for school events and whenever he said he’d take the kids for the weekend then forgot. As for alimony and money to cover the mortgage, he’d promised to get that to her when he sold one more house. It was always one more house.
She leaned against the kitchen counter for support. “You don’t exactly have an impressive track record, Roger. Normally, you only want the kids when you’re showing off or when your parents want to see them.”
“That’s a lie.” He sounded horrified. “I want to see them more often, but I have obligations. My job has to come first, you used to understand that. Of course, you wouldn’t know since you don’t seem to be in a hurry to get a job. You’d rather sit around and do nothing with your life.”
Lucy swallowed her hurt as a dust bunny rolled across the floor. There never used to be dust bunnies until she threw herself into writing, trying to create a career that so far amounted to nothing. “She’s there now, isn’t she? You’re taking every word I say and twisting it around to make yourself sound good.”
“That’s not true.” There was that cold, sharp edge to his voice again.
This was where he always made her out to be the villain when he had an audience. No matter how much she argued, there was no way she’d win. “You’ll going to parade the kids around town with your new girlfriend then dump them at your parents’ cabin for the week so your mom and dad can look after them while you have fun.”
“Lucy.” After a long sigh, his voice grew softer. “I’d never do that. I want to be a good father. Give me a chance. I promise I won’t even lose my temper with them this time.”
“That would be a first.” She was right and knew she sounded nasty, but was tired of being played for an imbecile. “You had your chance. You’re the one who walked out and didn’t listen when I told you the kids needed their father.”
“And now I’m hoping they won’t turn their backs on me after all you’ve probably told them. Please, Luce, I just want to see my kids.” He still never said she was right. If she gave in, he’d let her and the kids down first chance he got. Some things never changed.
Gut instinct told her not to back down, but she owed it to the kids. They still needed their father. “Okay. One week.”
Silence. Roger must have expected a bigger fight. “That’s great. I’ll pick them up on Sunday and treat them to lunch on the road, McDonald’s or something. We’ll have a great time. Just have them packed and ready for a week at the lake.”
Lucy hung up. Roger would show up whenever he felt like. Any sense of responsibility or reliability he used to have seemed to have disappeared with his new found freedom. She wouldn’t be the one to disappoint them. Roger was more than capable of doing that himself.
There had to be a silver lining. She’d need to do something to take her mind off being alone. Her gaze dropped to her resume lying on the floor, then at her chequebook. A week would give her time to drop off resumes everywhere she could think of since she couldn’t afford to be picky anymore. Roger hadn’t given her a dime in well over a month so everything she did with the kids lately had to be free.
More grinding from up the street. Lucy cringed. Why did men think they could do whatever they wanted without repercussions? While there was nothing she could do about Roger right then, she could put her neighbor in his place.
“Can we go for ice cream?” Gina waved a five dollar bill in front of Lucy’s face. “I still have my birthday money from Grandma.”
The tension in Lucy’s jaw left her body in a rush of breath. She wiped her forehead with her bare arm. “It’s really hot out there for a long walk. Did you ask your brothers?”
“That’s why ice cream would be perfect.” Her daughter’s eyebrows rose wistfully. “Please? The candy shop’s not too far.”
Lucy reached for the coin jar she kept on the cupboard. Thei
r fun money. Eight dollars would buy them each a cone. With the kids going to spend a week with their dad, a treat was worth the splurge. A walk would get her away from the metallic monstrosity up the street.
The thought of ice cream cooled Lucy down enough to relax and grab a scribbler so she could jot some notes for her latest novel while they ate. From up the street, came more grinding and fingernail-on-the-chalkboard-like sounds then a string of cuss words that made her cringe. Her kids didn’t need to hear that sort of language from anyone.
Lucy clenched her jaw, headed for the door, and marched to the Davidson house, the oldest house the street. The slap of her flip-flops ricocheted down the street like gunshots and drowned out the radio murmuring in his garage. The clatter of tools and revving of the pickup’s engine for the past three hours had finally pushed her over the edge. Again.
She stormed up the asphalt driveway behind a tall, broad-shouldered man and cleared her throat. “Excuse me.”
He straightened up, the top of his head cracking on the open hood of the rusty pickup truck. As he rubbed the wound, she tried not to snicker. If he wasn’t more careful, he’d need to get both he and his truck fixed by professionals.
He ran a greasy hand through his hair, then turned and wiped his hands on his faded blue t-shirt. Six-foot-four and two hundred or so pounds, the man was a mass of tattooed, rippling muscles and had shiny brown curls and pale green eyes. “Well, hello, gorgeous. What brings you by today?”
Lucy sucked in a sharp breath. Totally not her type of guy, yet her hands shook as badly as her voice and her heart raced. Perspiration trickled down her chest in rivers and soaked her tank top as she babbled. “My air conditioner broke down, there’s a hole in our pool, and I’ve had to listen to my kids whine all day because they’re hot and tired. Top that off with listening to you and that stupid truck all afternoon and I’ve had enough. So knock it off.”
Her neighbor could have been sympathetic. He could have even offered to make peace. Instead, he winked and asked, “But aside from that, how are things going?”
“You’re not funny. I have two deadlines, three bored kids, and a flat pool in my yard.” She stopped ranting and pasted on a fake smile. “Other than that, things are wonderful. Thanks for asking.”
He narrowed his lime green eyes. “Was that sarcasm?”
She stared hard. Nope. No way he was her type. Too rude. Too...glistening with sweat and easy on the eyes. When her knees wobbled, she thought about her three kids. “Yeah, that was sarcasm. You’re not the brightest bulb in the string, are you?”
He grinned then studied her. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. Clancy Davidson. Mel and Daisy’s son. I’m watching the house while my mom’s in the hospital.”
“Sorry to hear that.” She folded her arms across her chest, aware he was checking her out inch by sweaty inch. “Lucy. Lucy Stephen. Hot and cranky mom of three.”
“Hot I agree with. I notice you didn’t say married.” His smile made her knees flinch. “Are you sorry to hear my mom’s ill or that I’m staying here?”
“Both actually.”
“Well, Lucy Stephen. Either I work on the clunker now, or later tonight when I’ll keep you and your three kids awake.” He waved a hand toward her. “Your choice.”
Her shoulders drooped in defeat, but her jaw remained tight and defiant. “Fine, but if I still hear you out here after nine o’clock tonight, I will personally blow this heap up.”
“Honey, if I’m still out here at nine o’clock tonight, you and I’ll have a beer then I’ll supply the dynamite and help you.” He winked then picked up a rag and wiped his hands again.
Unconvinced he was sincere, her gaze shifted back toward her house and she tapped the toe of her flip-flop on the driveway.
Roger always said she’d make a good writer because she was such a drama queen, but maybe she was a drama queen because she was a writer. In truth, her mood was more about Roger and her deep down reluctance to let her kids go with him for the week. Normally, she’d probably have a hard time staying mad at someone like Clancy.
“Look, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “You go back to whatever it is you do all day and have fun with your kids. I’ll pad my tools with bubble wrap so you can relax.”
“You are such a jerk.” She snapped.
“That’s quite an observation considering you just met me. Maybe you should give me a chance to actually be a jerk before you accuse me of such a heinous crime.” He toyed with a wrench.
Fondled? Stroked? Darn her writer’s brain. What was wrong with her? Lucy blew out a frustrated breath then rolled her eyes and stomped away. “Men.”
She stormed up the cobblestone pathway to her front door and cursed under her breath. Her entire body vibrated after her confrontation with Clancy. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he hadn’t followed. One yard over, Clancy stood in the middle of his driveway grinning then waved.
She huffed. There were a thousand things she needed to do before the kids went away with Roger on Sunday. Every single one of them would make her cry since next week marked the first time they’d ever be away from her and Lucy was already on edge.
After confronting Clancy, the whole neighborhood now knew what a nutcase she really was. Maybe they’d leave her alone so she could write in peace.
Chapter 3 ~ Danny
The faded blue Honda Civic that waited for Danny beneath the apple tree that morning had belonged to his Uncle Ray. A couple weeks ago, Ray had grown tired of Danny’s nagging to fix the car and give it a fresh coat of paint. While Danny had taken time to fix the mechanical problems, both the Stephen case and his fixer-upper kept him too busy to bother with the car.
Despite Hannah’s daily reminder not to park under the apple tree, especially come autumn when mushy, brown apples fell. Danny still parked in the same spot. He drove into Packham and hoped he hadn’t missed his target already. At least Clancy would call if Lucy and the kids left the house. Most days the farthest they wandered was to the local playground or the grocery store and was as much a creature of habit as he was. Her lack of a vehicle made his surveillance easier.
The Stephen case made Danny shake his head. He could recite the entire dossier by heart. Roger and Lucy Stephen were separated. Roger filed divorce papers accusing her of cheating with several lovers, possibly even sleeping with them for money.
The way Roger told the story, Lucy had gone from being a broke, stay-at-home mom to having lump sums of money rolling in on a regular basis. Danny just needed proof. Wherever the money was, not a dime had passed through any of her bank accounts.
Doing surveillance on Lucy was about as exciting as watching clouds roll by, which was exactly what he ended up doing most days. While Roger was adamant she was a menace to society, aside from bad taste in footwear she seemed fairly normal. Anti-social and grumpy, but normal.
The few photos Danny had taken were mostly of her talking to neighbors or of her and the kids going on walks. She had a bike, no a car, rarely had company of either sex, and basically lived the life of a recluse. If not for the insistence of his client, Danny would feel sorry for her.
He cruised past her house then put her out of his head to focus on Bobby’s case. A serial killer took precedence over a boring housewife.
Leo, tall, red-haired, and antsy, already waited at Java Jo’s and tapped his foot while Danny grabbed a cup of coffee at the counter. The second Danny sat across the table from him, Leo slapped a newspaper on the table. “Did you see this?”
“Yeah, Bobby told me.” He breathed in the scent of an Ethiopian blend with cream and sighed. “This is so much better than Hannah’s coffee. Hers is so weak, I never quite wake up.”
A green teabag from Leo’s usual drink of choice, sat on a napkin on the table. Leo glanced at his cup then at Danny. “You know, you’d sleep better if you drank tea instead.”
Danny held up his hand. “Save the sermon. I don’t have time to sleep. Do you have time to read this over? Maybe
we can give Bobby a hand.”
“We can?” Leo raised both eyebrows. “What happened to our life-and-death case? Surveillance not going well?”
“Dead end. The woman has no life.” He peeled the paper off his triple berry muffin and shook his head. “I don’t see the point of watching someone wander the neighborhood when she doesn’t do anything. Even Clancy’s more interesting.”
“Come by the gym later, I’ll keep you busy and get you in shape.” Danny shrugged. “I may have to do that. Maybe it’ll convince the doctor I’m recovering and he’ll let me go back to work.”
“Maybe.” Leo skimmed the front of the newspaper. “Nice looking lady. Secretary at a real estate office. Who’d kill someone like her? You think she knew more secrets than someone was comfortable with?”
“Possibly. Ask Bobby. It’s his case.” Danny sipped his coffee. “I’m off to watch the sidewalk steam. Maybe I’ll bring a carton of eggs along to fry just for a little excitement.”
Leo sat back and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Not before you tell me why you dragged me out of bed so early.”
Danny grimaced. “You weren’t sleeping. You were probably either meditating or just got back from a run when I called.”
“Maybe.” Definitely. Leo thrived on three hours of sleep a day. His body was a temple and his mind was sharper than Danny’s on a good day.
“What do you know about hacking computers?” Danny popped a piece of muffin into his mouth.
He raised his brows. “Officially? Nothing.”
“And unofficially?”
Leo narrowed his eyes. “Depends why you’re asking.”
Danny lowered his voice and leaned forward. “I need you to hack someone’s computer. She’s on it a lot, especially at night, and I want to know what she’s up to. Since there’s no excitement during the day, I wonder if all her trysts are on-line.” He jotted down Lucy’s name and address then slid the paper to Leo.
Leo studied the information then sighed. “The Stephens case. I’m sure between Clancy and I, we could find whatever you want to know. You got a phone number or an e-mail account? I’ll need to verify details. Just give me everything you’ve got and keep in mind at some point, I’ll need physical access to her computer.”