After the official stuff was finished, I followed Trent to a pizza place where we pigged out on a huge pizza with lots of pepperoni. One cannot live on chocolate alone. Trust me. I’ve tried.
As we sat in the crowded, noisy restaurant savoring the smells and flavors, I made a joke about my middle-of-the-night adventure. “There I was, armed with a rolling pin, following my psycho cat into the basement, chasing a mouse.” I laughed then took another bite of pizza and waited for Trent to laugh, to make light of the entire episode, to assure me I was being silly so I could quit feeling weird about it.
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smile as he slowly lowered his piece of pizza to his plate, his eyes never leaving my face. “Lindsay, you need to know about this little service we have in town. If you hear noises in the night, you can punch in three numbers on your phone, 911, and a big brave cop with a gun instead of a rolling pin will come and investigate. It’s been known to save lives.”
“Save lives? I had no idea you’d be worried about a mouse. But you don’t need to be concerned. Even if I’d found the little critter, my aim is so bad, I wouldn’t have been able to hit him with that rolling pin.”
Trent looked across the room then back to me and shook his head. “You’re dating…I mean, seeing…I mean…whatever it is we’re doing. You’re involved with a cop, but you don’t think to call one when something scary happens in the middle of the night?”
I rolled my eyes. “Nothing scary happened! You’re overreacting. If I called 911 about something like that, I can just hear your buddies when you came in to work the next morning. Hey, Trent, got a call to Lindsay’s house last night! Seems she had a mouse B&E. We put handcuffs on him, but his arms were so little, they slipped right out!”
Trent lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Have it your way. But I was there a few months ago when they were pumping your stomach because somebody broke into your house and tried to kill you.”
That memory had certainly crossed my mind last night, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “That was Paula’s psycho ex. He’s in prison, and nobody’s been breaking into my house lately.”
Trent nodded. “Fine.” He lifted his pizza and resumed eating. So did I.
“I should probably get a gun,” I said after a couple of bites of silence.
“Probably not.”
We ate some more.
“You could teach me to shoot,” I said.
“Probably not.”
“I could take a class.”
Trent swallowed his last bite of pizza, drank the last of his soda, and wiped his hands on a napkin. “That’s not a bad idea.”
I hadn’t expected that response.
“As soon as you’re divorced from Rick, I’ll help you find a gun and a class.”
“Why do I have to wait until I’m divorced from Rickhead?”
“So you don’t lose your temper and shoot him.”
“He deserves shooting.”
“Yes, he does, but if you get sent to prison, that’s going to put a real damper on our spending time together.”
He had a point. Still, I’d love to see Rick’s face if he came to my door and I greeted him with a .357 Magnum. Do you feel lucky, Rick? Well, do you? Go ahead. Make my day.
“Stop fantasizing about killing Rick, finish your pizza, and let’s go to your house.”
He knows me so well.
Trent followed me home. He parked on the street, I put my car in my stylishly angled garage, and we walked over to the porch. I let Henry out to join us since Trent’s his buddy. After Henry wound around my legs and Trent’s, he left to patrol his territory. I have no idea how far his territory ranges, but I haven’t seen another cat in the area since Henry arrived.
I sat down in the porch swing. It was a beautiful night with a spectacular moon and Trent is a spectacular kisser. “Want to make out?”
He turned to me, the moonlight shadows settling into concerned lines on his face. I sighed. We probably weren’t going to make out.
“Yes,” he said. “After we check your basement.”
Oh, well, if that was all it took. “Sure. Come on. I just hope you weren’t planning to wear those clothes ever again because you’ll never be able to get them clean.”
“You don’t even want to know some of the places these clothes have been.”
He was right. I didn’t.
We trekked through the house and down the stairs to the furnace room. I turned on the overhead bulb and Trent produced a large, deadly looking flashlight. It lit up the room like the sun and looked at least as effective as a rolling pin in terms of a weapon.
He shone the light all around the room, studying every inch of it carefully, then walked over to the corner where the bricks seemed to be the most disturbed. Squatting…and getting coal dust all over his pants…he picked up some of the sediment between his fingers, tested it, put it back down and ran his fingers over the uneven surface of the bricks.
“You’re never going to be clean again,” I warned him.
He stood, grinned, walked over to me and drew a grimy finger down my cheek then kissed me.
I scrubbed at the streak on my face. “I’d have had to hurt you if you hadn’t thrown in the kiss.”
“I know.” Then he looked serious, turned back to the room and swept his light over the area. “It looks like somebody’s been digging up your floor fairly recently.”
Again he was saying things I didn’t want to hear. “Stop being a paranoid cop.”
“Lindsay, it’s possible you had an intruder last night, a two-legged intruder, not a four-legged critter.” The dead calm in his voice told me he wasn’t feeling at all calm about this.
“No, it’s not possible. I checked the doors and windows, and they were all locked.”
He strode over to the boarded-up coal chute and repeated my inspection of the night before, pushing and tugging on each board to be sure it was securely in place.
I folded my arms and glared at him. “I already did that.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He continued checking it out as if I hadn’t spoken then finally stepped back and gave me another serious look. “There’s some evidence of disturbance around these boards. Let’s go outside and look at the entrance.”
I shivered. “I got a better idea. Let’s go outside and sit in the porch swing and make out and talk about what we’re going to do when my divorce is final.”
He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he switched off the flashlight and came over to me. Putting his arms around me, he leaned close to my ear. I thought the discussion about the phantom intruder was finished.
“Just as soon as we check out the coal chute entrance,” he whispered.
That man is almost as stubborn as I am.
We went upstairs, and I took him out back to the alley. We pushed through my overgrown shrubbery, and I showed him the ornate metal door that had covered the coal chute since the house was built.
He lifted the big, rusty padlock that held the door securely closed and looked at it. “Where’s the key?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t had to open it recently for a delivery of coal.”
He tugged on the lock a couple of times, let it drop, then felt around the edges of the door carefully. “You didn’t get a key from the former owner when you bought the house?”
I shrugged. “Rick took care of all those details. When I moved in here last year, he gave me the door keys. I had all those locks changed last winter and threw away the old keys. You really are being a little paranoid, don’t you think?”
He took my hand and we started back around to the front of the house. “I’m a cop. Paranoid is what I do. I have to keep you safe long enough to take you up on some of those post-divorce promises you keep making.”
We had just settled into the porch swing when a car door slammed. We both stood and looked toward the street.
A dark green SUV.
Rick.
“Lindsay!” Clad in white knit shirt and white tennis shorts, he charged down the sidewalk and onto my porch.
From out of nowhere, Henry darted up, putting himself between Rick and me, his back arched, tail high, teeth bared. He doesn’t like Rick and feels the need to protect me from him. If only he’d been around six years ago. If anyone has reason why this man and this woman should not be married… ROWR!
“Rick. What are you doing here?”
Rick glared at Trent and Trent glared at Rick. Neither spoke.
Henry hissed. Smart cat.
Rick turned his gaze to me. “I came to see how you’re doing. I heard you got called in for questioning too.”
“I did, yes, but since I’m not dating the victim’s wife, my interview was pretty simple and nonthreatening.”
Rick ducked his head as if embarrassed. He wasn’t, of course. He never is. “That’s what I need to talk to you about.” He sent another glare in Trent’s direction.
Trent squeezed my hand then released it. “I better go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He knew from previous experience that if he stayed, Rick would get crazier and crazier.
I wouldn’t have minded if the two of them got into a fight because I knew Trent could beat Rick to a bloody pulp, but Trent has all these lofty notions about keeping his job and staying out of jail and that sort of thing.
“You don’t have to go,” I said. “Rick’s leaving.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Lindsay, we need to talk. I’m ready to sign those papers.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard right. “Those papers? Which papers?”
“The divorce papers, of course.”
Trent and I shared a look of disbelief. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked.
If there was even a chance that Rick really meant it this time, I had to take that chance.
“No, it’s okay.”
Rick let him go with a curt nod but no sarcastic remark. That was different and, I thought, a good sign.
I waved as Trent drove away, then I turned back to Rick. “Okay, you’re ready to sign the papers. When do you want to meet with the lawyers and get that done?”
He walked over and sat down in the swing. “Whenever you say.”
I remained standing with King Henry beside me. “I’ll call my lawyer tomorrow, and he’ll call your lawyer and schedule an appointment. That’s settled. You can leave now.”
Rick smiled, draped an arm across the back of the swing and stretched out his tan legs. “Come sit next to me, babe.”
“No.”
He stepped up the wattage on his smile. “I’m sorry we’ve had so much trouble getting this resolved, Lindsay.” Rick was apologizing? That was a bad sign. “It’s been hard for me to give you up, but I’ve come to realize, if I really love you, I need to let you go.”
I looked upward, expecting the sky to fall or a bolt of lightning to strike after such an outrageous lie. “Fine, whatever. I’ll call my lawyer, and he’ll call your lawyer. Good-bye.”
Rick’s smile developed sad overtones. “I’m trying to make things right, Lindsay. Please let me do that.”
Henry, making a soft growling sound, sidled closer to Rick.
Rick shifted as if the swing had suddenly become uncomfortable. “Why is that cat looking at me like that?”
“He’s psychic. He knows what’s going on in that demented mind of yours, what your real agenda is. You’re not going to sign those papers, are you?”
“Yes, I am. I just want to do what’s best for you. Lindsay, I’m a changed man.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’ve fallen in love.”
Henry turned his head and looked at me. He didn’t believe Rick either.
“No, you haven’t,” I said. “You’re not capable of love. You’re too shallow.”
Rick didn’t rise to the bait, just kept smiling as if he was stoned. Maybe he was.
“I understand why you’d think that, but this time it’s the real thing.”
“You said that about Muffy and Becky and Carolyn and—”
“This is different.”
Suddenly it hit me. “You’re not talking about Rodney Bradford’s widow, are you?”
He gave that doper smile again. “Yes, I’m talking about Lisa.”
I shook my head in disbelief and sank to the top step. “This sounds like one of those television shows about sleazy people. You were having an affair with your client’s wife, and now that he’s dead, you’re suddenly in love with her?”
Rick came over to sit beside me. “You make it sound so tawdry. Lisa and I were drawn to each other the first time she came into my office.”
“That would be when she came in with her husband?”
“Yes, with her husband, but he wasn’t a very good husband.”
“I’m familiar with that syndrome.”
For an instant Rick looked as if he might be going to respond, but then that phony smile came back. “I know I wasn’t a good husband, but I’m trying to make it up to you now. At least I didn’t beat you like Rodney beat poor little Lisa.”
“Poor little Lisa?”
“Rodney’s not who you think he is. He just got out of prison a couple of months ago. Lisa was trying to help him rehabilitate, but he just couldn’t escape his past. It was probably one of his criminal buddies who killed him. He was a terrible man.”
I decided against admitting I already knew about the terrible man’s scenic past. “How awful for poor little Lisa. Thank goodness she’s got a fine man like you now.”
“I know I haven’t always been the best person, but I’m trying to be a better man.” Rick was definitely up to something, and I’d bet my next month’s profits at Death by Chocolate that it didn’t involve falling madly in love with poor little Lisa.
“That’s commendable. I’m thrilled for you, and I wish you both the best. Once our divorce is finalized, you can marry her and live happily ever after. I’ll call my lawyer in the morning.”
I stood and waited but he didn’t get up to leave. I hadn’t really expected him to.
“That’s big of you, Lindsay, but you always have been a decent person.”
“I won’t argue with that.”
“I feel so bad about all the wrong I’ve done. I want to make it up to you for the times I cheated and lied and took advantage of you.”
“Give me a divorce, and we’ll call it even. I absolve you of all guilt.” I waved my hands through the air. “Veni, vidi, vici.” It was the only Latin I knew. “Absolution granted. No bad karma for you as you go through the rest of your life. Just sign the freaking papers!”
Finally he rose. I stepped back. Henry, too, got out of his way.
He leaned over to hug me.
I drew back. “Don’t do that.”
He nodded, tried to look abashed, and stepped down to the sidewalk where he turned back. “Let me just do this one thing for you so I can ease my conscience. Instead of me taking the big house and you this little one, I’m going to let you have the nice house, and I’ll take this one.”
Aha! “I don’t want your house! I want this one!” All of a sudden, everybody wanted my house.
“The big one’s worth a lot more. If you don’t want to live there, you can sell it and buy another house. Buy the one across the street so you can still be close to Paula and Fred.”
I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Really? Live across the street from you and Lisa? That would be cozy.”
For an instant, an expression of damn, I screwed up, flickered across Rick’s face. But only for an instant. Someone who didn’t know him as well as I would have missed it. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t a good suggestion. It was just a thought. The point is, you’ll have lots of options.”
I shook my head. “Give it a rest. You don’t plan to live here. Why do you want my house?”
“I just want to do the right thing.”
At the depth of that lie, I clutched the porch railing in anticipation of a major earthquake that would swallow us all. “If you want to do the right thing, sign those papers exactly as they are and get out of my life!”
Rick held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Okay, okay. Besides my wanting to do the right thing, Lisa wants to have this place because it meant so much to Rodney.”
I clutched my forehead in total frustration. “Poor little Lisa wants to own a house where the man who abused her used to visit his grandparents? You are so full of it, Richard Kramer!”
I stormed into my house—which was going to remain my house for the foreseeable future—and slammed the door behind me then opened it again to let Henry inside. He marched in with his usual regal grace, giving his long tail a switch, bidding a haughty farewell to Rick.
“Lindsay,” Rick said, not smiling, “I’m trying to do the right thing. Don’t fight me on this or things are going to get ugly.”
“You’re about six years late with that prediction.” I slammed the door again.