by Lori Wilde
“Nick might not see it that way. In fact, I can almost guarantee it.”
“Then we simply won’t tell him.”
“So we’re agreed? No matter what happens, we won’t mention Weasel’s name?”
“Agreed.” Hattie reached out to pat Lucy’s cheek. “Don’t look so worried, dear. I can be very creative. Now let’s go in and put Nick out of his misery.”
Nick did look miserable when Lucy walked into the living room with Hattie close behind her. He sat on the sofa, his face buried in his hands. Obviously lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even look up as they entered the room.
“Hey, we’re home,” Lucy announced cheerfully, hoping to lighten the tense atmosphere blanketing the room.
He slowly lifted his head, his gray eyes bleak and haggard. He looked from Lucy to his grandmother and back again. “Where the hell have you two been?”
“Now, Nick,” Hattie said, hanging her purse on the coatrack, “you know how I feel about cursing. We’re back now, that’s all that matters.” She took off her gray cardigan sweater and hung it next to her purse. “You must be hungry. Shall I warm up that leftover meatloaf?”
“That’s sounds wonderful,” Lucy exclaimed. “Meatloaf is one of my favorites.”
He scowled at Lucy. “Meatloaf? My grandmother disappears without a trace. Then you disappear from the library, leaving me some vague note about running an errand. I don’t hear a word from either of you for hours, and now you two stroll in here and talk about meatloaf?”
“Well, if you don’t want meatloaf, I’ve got lasagna in the freezer,” Hattie replied.
He closed his eyes.
Lucy could see the muscle working in his tightly clenched jaw.
“I don’t want meatloaf and I don’t want lasagna. All I want is an explanation.”
“We can do that.” Hattie looked over at Lucy. “Right?”
“Right,” Lucy agreed, scrambling for a plausible explanation that would keep Weasel from writing his poetry behind bars. “Hattie was…auditioning roles for a possible community theater production of Oklahoma.”
“I need to find someone to play Judd,” Hattie explained, taking it from there. “Nicky, you’ll play the hero Curly. You already know all the songs and are certainly handsome enough for the part. And Lucy, you’ll be perfect in the role of Laurie.”
“And you can play Aunt Eller,” Lucy suggested.
Hattie shook her head. “No, dear. I’ll be too busy directing. Veda will make a good Aunt Eller and Edith can do the costuming. She’s an excellent seamstress.”
“Hold it.” Nick stood up. He didn’t look convinced by their story. Harassed, impatient, and incredibly sexy, but not convinced. “Look, you two,” he said, his voice low and urgent, “no more games. I need to know everything. And I mean right now.”
Lucy bit her lip. She’d never been a good liar. Obviously Nick had seen right through her. And maybe he did need to know. No harm had come to Hattie today, but what if someone other than Weasel had been hired to detain her? Hattie might truly be in danger.
“You’re not going to like it…” Lucy began.
“That’s a given,” he said, his voice tight.
“I really think it’s better if you just let it go, Nick,” Hattie said. “Lucy and I agreed to keep this little episode between ourselves.”
“Episode?” he echoed, his voice rising. “Is that what you call it? An…episode? Cade’s driving every country road in the county looking for you while Sam and Hank are scouring Pine City. I haven’t been able to reach Jack or Trace yet…”
“Well, you better give all the boys a call right now and call off the hunt,” Hattie said in a tone that seemed to deflate some of Nick’s anger. “I’m home and I’m safe.”
Nick sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll call them as soon as you tell me what happened.”
“Nick, it’s not as bad as you think,” Lucy interjected. “I think Hattie even enjoyed herself.”
“Oh, I really did…” Hattie began before the chime of the doorbell interrupted her. She turned toward the door. “Well, it looks like we’ve got company.”
“It’s not company,” Nick said grimly. “It’s the police.”
Nick watched Lucy’s face turn pale at his announcement. It confirmed his worst suspicions, making his gut clench and twist into a hard knot.
A harried Lester Bonn had called the house fifteen minutes ago to announce that the police were on their way over. They’d come to the library looking for Lucy and he’d given him this address. One question had played over and over in his mind since that phone call.
What had she done now?
But before he could ask her, Hattie escorted two uniformed police officers into the room. He recognized Officer Elena Madison from their encounter outside the Hanover Building. And he’d never forget Babette.
“Good evening, folks. I’m Officer Madison,” the young cop said, then motioned to her partner. “And this is…”
“Babette,” Lucy said in surprise.
“I prefer Officer Gryzynski,” Babette said as she pulled a notepad and pencil out of her pocket. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, Miss Moore.”
“What kind of questions?” Lucy stammered, seating herself next to Nick on the sofa.
Office Madison exchanged glances with Babette. “We’d like to ask you about your activities earlier today.”
“Look, this really isn’t necessary,” Lucy replied. “Hattie’s here now. She’s fine. We appreciate all your efforts, but I’m afraid you’ve been called out on a false alarm. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do.”
“Unless you’d like to stay for meatloaf,” Hattie offered. “I’ve got plenty to go around.”
“No, thank you, ma’am,” Officer Madison replied. “Officer Gryzynski and I are still on duty. We’ve got a job to do. And we won’t rest until this case is closed.”
Nick rolled his eyes. Great. Two rookie cops who had weaned themselves on reruns of Law and Order. He knew the department was shorthanded, but this was ridiculous.
Babette tapped her pencil on the notepad. “Earlier today, Vanessa Beaumont’s residence was broken into and burglarized.”
Lucy blinked. “What does that have to do with me?”
“We’d like to know your whereabouts from four p.m. until now,” Officer Madison replied.
Nick stifled a groan. Burglary? How was she ever going to talk herself out of that one?
“Lucy was with me,” Hattie announced. “I was rehearsing the song-and-dance numbers from the musical Oklahoma with a very nice young man. He has a strong voice, although he had a little trouble with some of the steps.”
Nick closed his eyes. Their story sounded lame even to his ears. But maybe the inexperienced cops wouldn’t notice. Or see the guilt written all over Lucy’s face.
Babette’s gaze narrowed on Lucy. “Are you sure you want to stick with that story, Miss Moore? We all know you’ve been pursuing an investigation to clear your brother’s name.”
“In fact, the first time I met you,” Officer Madison said, “you’d just broken into the Hanover Building looking for evidence.”
Lucy sighed. “I told you that was a misunderstanding.”
“Right,” Babette said. “Just like your jaunt as a call girl was a misunderstanding. What other illegal activities have you indulged in to help your brother?”
“Now wait a minute,” Lucy said, rising to her feet. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
“We don’t think so, Miss Moore,” Babette countered, flipping through her notepad. “We think you spent the afternoon attempting to frame Miss Beaumont. We even have a quote from your superior at the Heritage Library, Lester Bonn. He overheard you refer to Vanessa Beaumont as the Wicked Witch of Pine City. He also said you believed she was responsible for the fire at the Hanover Building.”
“I never told him that,” Lucy said, indignant. “You’re accusing me of a crime just on Lester’s word?”
“No,” Officer Madison said, her green eyes deadly serious. “We’ve got more solid evidence. The perpetrator left something behind at Miss Beaumont’s town house.”
“Two things, actually,” Babette said. “The first is a tin of gunpowder, the same brand used in the Hanover Building fire. Obviously meant to implicate Miss Beaumont in the incident.”
“And the second?” Nick demanded, suddenly hopeful that the evidence against Lucy was all circumstantial, that these two rookies had nothing more to go on than a theory and a quote from a peevish library gossip.
“We found a fingernail file with a mother-of-pearl handle still stuck in the keyhole,” Office Madison said. “I knew it looked familiar.”
“But my fingernail file is one of a kind,” Lucy protested.
Office Madison arched a dark eyebrow as she held up a plastic evidence bag. “With the initial L etched in it?”
Lucy’s mouth dropped open. She looked at Nick, her expression one of horrified disbelief.
Nick’s heart lurched. If it was true, his librarian had gotten in way over her head this time. Now she was possibly facing a felony. And the police already had more than enough evidence to lock her away for a long time.
All they needed to cinch the case was a confession.
“Lucy didn’t do it,” he heard himself say, his mind clouded with images of Lucy undergoing arrest and a trial. Sitting in a cold, empty jail cell until all her hope and exuberance and dreams faded away.
Babette rolled her eyes. “Come on, Holden. You used to be a cop. A real hotshot detective, from the stories down at the station. We’ve got previous criminal activity on Miss Moore, a statement that points to motive, and even the fingernail file she used to pick the lock. If she’s not guilty, then who is?”
“Me.”
Everyone in the room turned to gape at Nick. He met Lucy’s gaze, her big brown eyes reflecting a raw emotion that made him swallow hard and look away. His unplanned outburst surprised him almost as much as the rest of them. But he did it for Lucy. And he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
“That doesn’t any make sense,” Babette said at last.
Nick folded his arms across his chest, hoping his bluff worked well enough to delay an arrest—at least long enough for Lucy to get an alibi, or a good lawyer. “It does if you actually follow through all the leads in the case. You should have learned that your first week at the police academy. Have you even interviewed the alleged victim?”
Officer Madison and Babette looked guiltily at each other. “Well…not yet. The victim’s mother, Letitia Beaumont, reported the burglary. She was quite upset about it and wanted immediate action. We haven’t been able to locate Miss Beaumont.”
Nick shook his head. “So you two go off half-cocked and accuse an innocent woman of the crime? That’s not exactly proper police conduct.”
Babette bristled. “You should talk, Holden! You just got out of prison for improper conduct.”
“That’s right,” Nick said, keeping his voice relaxed and even, hoping some of Lucy’s vivid imagination and storytelling techniques had rubbed off on him. “My prison record is what Vanessa found so appealing about me. We had a date last Friday evening. You can verify it with Charles, the maître d' at Rawling’s Steakhouse. I’m sure he’ll remember me.”
Babette scribbled the name in her notebook.
“That’s when Vanessa asked me to play out her little fantasy,” Nick continued. “I think she called it The Criminal and the Beauty Queen.”
“I knew that girl was trouble,” Hattie muttered under her breath.
Nick cleared his throat, more than a little uncomfortable describing a romantic fantasy with his grandmother in the room. Lucy didn’t look very happy, either. In fact, his sweet librarian looked downright lethal.
“I was supposed to break into her town house and ransack it until I found her in the bedroom,” he said, hurrying through the story. “And then…well, I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”
Officer Madison shook her head. “Seriously?”
“But Vanessa wasn’t in the bedroom, or anywhere else in the place,” Nick said before Lucy could grab the nearest aerosol can. “She must have forgotten to mark our date down on her social calendar.”
“So how do you explain the fingernail file we found? The one belonging to Miss Moore?” Babette asked.
“Easy,” Nick replied. “I’ve been staying at Lucy’s place for the last few days, so I’ve had access to all her things.”
“Then we’ll find your fingerprints on it?” Officer Madison asked.
“I wore gloves and a ski mask,” Nick explained. “It was all part of the fantasy.” He cleared his throat. “Now you can find Vanessa and verify the story or you can arrest me…or Lucy, and give the cops down at the station a good laugh.”
Officer Madison exchanged a glance with her partner.
Nick turned to Babette. “Maybe I’ll go out to the squad car and radio Lieutenant Delaney about the situation.”
Babette nodded. “And I’ll try phoning Miss Beaumont at her town house again. If she’s still not there, I’ll call around to see if I can track her down.”
“You can use the telephone in the den,” Hattie said, leading her from the living room as Officer Madison walked out the front door.
“The Criminal and the Beauty Queen?” Lucy asked once they were alone.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He moved closer to her, dropping his voice to a whisper.
“I don’t think you do. I could strangle you.”
He held up both hands. “Wait a minute. I made up that story about Vanessa and her fantasy.”
“I know you made it up,” she said. “It was a great story. Very creative. There’s no way you could have had a rendezvous with Vanessa this afternoon. I saw you in the library, remember? You were too worried about your grandmother to indulge in any fantasies.”
His fingers brushed a honey-blond curl off her cheek. “I don’t know about that,” he said huskily.
“Pay attention, Nick,” she warned. “I’m not through with you yet.”
He dropped his hand, frowning at the fierce expression on her face. “If you don’t believe my story, why do you look like you want to annihilate me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Because you big, dumb, noble jerk, we wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t always trying to protect me! I didn’t break into Vanessa’s town house, either.”
As soon as she said the words, Nick knew she was telling him the truth. He also realized he might have overreacted just a little to the police interrogation. Like confessing to a crime he didn’t commit. Again.
He closed his eyes. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” she said, misunderstanding him. “Somebody set me up while I was busy rescuing your grandmother from her kidnapper. Or rather, the kidnapper from your grandmother.”
His eyes flew open. “Grandma Hattie was kidnapped?”
“More like ‘voluntarily detained.’ Look, Nick, I think it’s time we compare notes. Someone is trying very hard to distract us from this case, which can only mean one thing. We’re getting too close for comfort.”
He couldn’t agree more. He’d been fighting the urge to wrap her in his arms since she walked through that front door with his grandmother in tow. He’d wanted to kiss Lucy silly when she’d spouted that convoluted story. And now he wanted to haul her over his shoulder and go on the lam before one of them ended up behind bars.
Nick knew at that moment he loved her.
This revelation was unexpected, overwhelming, and inconvenient as hell, considering the circumstances. But his heart overflowed with love for Lucy Moore.
She planted her hands on her hips, looking angry and exasperated and simply adorable. “We’re in this together. So no more shutting me out of the case, Holden. Let me be an equal partner in this investigation…or else.”
He bit back a smile at the fierce gleam in her eye. “Or else what?”
She lifted her chin. “Or else I’ll be forced to do something drastic. I’ve got peanut butter and I’m not afraid to use it.”
He held up both hands. “All right, I surrender. From now on we’re together all the way. But before we can figure out who set you up, we need to get rid of Officers Madison and Gryzynski.”
Hattie hurried into the living room. “Nick Holden, I could wring your neck!”
“Get in line,” Lucy muttered. “Can you believe he’d confess to something he didn’t do?”
Hattie took a deep breath. “Yes, I can. He did it a year and a half ago. It seems to be turning into a bad habit.”
“He what?” Lucy exclaimed.
Nick looked in disbelief at his grandmother. “You knew?”
She shook her head, her lower lip trembling. “No, not at the time. I was still in shock. Your grandfather was my entire life. I knew something had been troubling him for weeks. Then he suffered those heart attacks that killed him and the next month passed like a nightmare for me. When I woke up, you’d already been convicted and sentenced.”
Lucy stared up at Nick as if she’d never seen him before. “You sacrificed your career and your reputation and your freedom for someone else?”
He shrugged. “It was just something I had to do.”
“I should have known,” she said huskily. “You’ve always been too honest and noble for your own good.”
Nick turned to his grandmother, unnerved by the raw emotion shining in Lucy’s eyes. “Why do you think Grandpa did it?”
She took a deep breath, then set her mouth in a determined line. “I think neither my husband nor my grandson was guilty of committing the crime. Or any crime, for that matter. And I refuse to sit idly by and watch it happen all over again. So what can I do to help?”
Lucy snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! A way to get rid of the cops.” She turned to Hattie. “Do you remember that book the Bluebonnets read last July? The title was High Society Sleuths Go to Vegas.”