The Nosy Neighbor (7 page)

Lucy did her best to focus on her neighbor, but her vision was too blurry. He was so cheerful, she wanted to slap him. “I think I’m catching something; but worse than that, I think I might have a concussion. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. If that’s not what it is, then that electric charge did something to my body. My vision is all blurry. It clears up, then the blurriness comes back. My ears hurt, and I have a killer headache.”

“Do you want me to take you to the doctor? There’s a good one right down the road. He’s a GP, and everyone on the street goes to him. He’ll make a house call if you need it. Do you want me to call him?”

The concern in her neighbor’s voice pleased Lucy as she hobbled to the kitchen. Her voice was apologetic when she said, “I think I’ll wait till morning, and if I don’t feel better, I’ll make an appointment. Is he open on Saturday?”

“Yeah, he has hours from eight to noon on Saturday.”

“By the way, I didn’t make a meat loaf for Coop. I think there’s enough left from yesterday if you mix it with something.”

“If you want, I can take the dogs to my house, or I can stay here and take care of them. I can make us some dinner and a meat loaf for Cooper. I can fetch and carry for you, too. Are you running a fever?”

“I don’t know. Probably. I had chills a while ago. Yes, please stay. I’d appreciate it, Wylie. I’m sorry I never made an effort to introduce myself after I moved in. I guess life just got in the way. I like your dog. I really do.”

Wylie jerked at his tie and tossed it over a kitchen chair. His suit coat followed. “I like making myself at home. I’ll borrow your slicker to walk the dogs,” he said, pointing to the coatrack by the back door. “When I get back, I’ll make you some hot tea. Do you have any cognac? My mother swears by hot tea and cognac. Makes you sweat. Go back on the couch and don’t do anything. I’ll replenish the fire. You can thank me some other time.” Wylie grinned as he bustled about.

Even as bad as she felt, Lucy took a moment to marvel at how sexy her neighbor looked in his white dress shirt, the collar open, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She admitted she had a
thing
about white dress shirts on certain men. Men like Wylie. Jonathan in the same attire did nothing for her. How weird was
that
? She pushed the thought away. She had enough on her plate just then without thinking about a sexy neighbor she’d met only the day before.

Grateful for the help and attention, Lucy tottered back to the living room and the sofa that beckoned. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She heard the door open and close before she drifted off to sleep…again.

On his return, dressed in jeans and a fleecy sweatshirt that said
GEORGETOWN
on the back, Wylie set to work in the kitchen. He worked swiftly and cleaned up after himself as he mixed up the meat loaf, slid it into the oven, and removed the contents from the take-out restaurant onto plates. While he worked, he talked to the dogs, who watched him intently. “I’m probably a better cook than I am a lawyer.” He looked down at Coop and felt a pang of something he couldn’t identify. His dog was in love with another dog and her owner. Where did that leave him in the mix? Standing on the sidelines, that’s where.

As he waited for the water for Lucy’s tea to boil, he set about adding kindling and logs to the dying fire in the living room. When he was finished, he dusted his hands and walked over to the sofa where Lucy was sleeping. He put his hand on her forehead the way his mother would have. She didn’t seem overly warm to him.

He stood back to watch her. When she was asleep, she looked vulnerable, and so very pretty. He was almost certain he’d met her someplace, somewhere before, but he couldn’t recall where or when.

He bent over the coffee table to shuffle the papers and photos back into the manila folder lying on the floor. If there was one thing Wiley hated, it was a mess. He wasn’t being nosy, he really wasn’t but he’d never seen so many brokerage accounts in one person’s name in his life. Nor had he ever seen so many zeros. He barely looked at the arrogant-looking, elegantly dressed man in the photos. He was about to replace everything in the folder when he thought better of it. He left the papers and photos just the way they were and headed for the dining room where he saw the litter on the floor.

Wylie gaped at the chewed-up invitations, knowing instinctively that Coop had had his teeth in the shredded mess. He sighed heavily as he picked up everything and placed it on the dining room table. He wondered what
this
was going to cost him.

His shoulders slumped as he walked back to the kitchen, where he made the tea and drank it himself. His lovely neighbor was getting married. Just his dumb luck. Damn, he really liked Lucy. He’d even dreamed about her last night, and he’d almost killed himself getting to her house that afternoon.

“Story of my life,” he muttered to the snoozing dogs.

Lucy woke at eight o’clock, when she felt a cold wet nose nudge her chin. Through sleep-filled eyes, she did her best to focus on Sadie and her surroundings. She felt groggy and cranky at being disturbed. When she opened her eyes wider, she saw her neighbor sitting across from her. He looked like he belonged in the chocolate-colored chair. He even looked like he belonged to the room. She wondered how that could be. “It’s eight o’clock,” she mumbled, looking down at the watch on her wrist.

“Yep, it’s eight o’clock,” Wylie said cheerfully. “Are you hungry? I was starved, so I ate when I fed the dogs. I kept yours warm. How do you feel?”

Lucy massaged her temples. “Don’t ask. Did anyone call?”

“Your phone rang four times, but I didn’t answer it. I assumed you had voice mail, and it would pick up your messages. So”—he clapped his hands—“do you want dinner or not?”

“I’m not really hungry, Wylie. Maybe later. Thanks for taking over. I feel so…so awful. I feel like there’s a Chinese fire drill going on inside my head. It’s like a hundred voices all talking at once, and yet nothing is clear. It’s starting to scare me.” Tears of frustration puddled in Lucy’s eyes.

Wylie was off the chair and on his knees by the couch in a heartbeat. Papers crunched beneath his knees—the brokerage statements.

“Hey, it’s all right. I’ll take you to the doctor in the morning unless you want me to phone now for a house call. If it’s really bad, I can scoot you over to Emergency at Kennedy. Do you still have the headache?”

“Actually, no. But my head is…busy. I’m hearing stuff. My God, maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown.” She shook her head, hoping to clear it of the noise. “I can wait till morning.”

Wylie inched upward so that he was sitting on the coffee table. “You are not having a nervous breakdown. However, you might have a concussion. You were fine before the fall, weren’t you?”

Lucy nodded, her gaze going to the dining room, where she’d destroyed her wedding invitations.
Maybe she’s one of those people who have telekinetic powers.
A moment later, she said, “I am not one of those people with telekinetic powers, Wylie, so get that idea out of your head. I can’t even predict rain when there are storm clouds overhead.”

Wylie’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”

“You just said I must be one of those people who have telekinetic powers.”

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t say a word.”

“I heard you, Wylie.”
I should scoop her up right now and take her to the hospital.
“I’m not going to the hospital, either, so get that out of your head, too. Oh, my God, your lips aren’t moving!” Lucy burrowed deeper into the corner of the sofa. Her voice was full of panic when she said, “I just read your mind, didn’t I?” A scream built in her throat. “I did, didn’t I?”

Wylie stood up and moved back to the chair he’d been sitting on earlier. He had to say something. “Yes,” he croaked.

…
statements…too many zeros…married.
“I’m not getting married. You saw the brokerage statements. Were you snooping? You were thinking other things, but they aren’t coming across clearly. You moved away. Oh, God, oh God, oh God! There’s something wrong with my brain. Maybe it was that electric wire. I don’t want to read your mind. Don’t think. Please, don’t think. Make your mind blank. I didn’t hit my head that hard. That wire touched my shoe, but I wiggled away. I did feel a shock run up the side of my body, but then Coop boosted me up, and I got out of there. That live wire was dancing all over the road.” She was babbling, and she knew it. “You aren’t thinking, are you?”

Don’t think, Wylie.
How was that possible? A person had to think. He lied, and said, “No, I’m not thinking.” Wylie struggled for a diversion because this was beyond bizarre. “Listen, Coop got into your invitations and chewed them up. I’ll pay for them. I’m sorry about the bank statements. I was trying to tidy up, but I thought you might think I was snooping. I wasn’t. I left everything the way it was. I did clean up the invitations though.” He was babbling just as she was. “Listen, I have to think. If I don’t think, I’ll go nuts.”

“Maybe you should go home. Coop didn’t do anything. I’m the one who ripped up those invitations.” She
heard
fragments of his thoughts again.
Klutz…this is scary…. maybe a CAT scan or an MRI.
“Are you scared because of me or because you’re a klutz? Or am I the klutz? You’re right, I need to see a doctor about my head.” Lucy’s voice was full of panic when she said, “You don’t think this is fatal, do you?”

Wylie rubbed at the stubble on his chin. He suddenly felt like Clueless Cooper. “No, of course not. Just a little glitch of some kind. I’m sure there’s a pill or shot for it. Maybe a shrink…” He knew it was the wrong thing to say the minute the words shot out of his mouth.

“You are crazier than I feel right now if you think that! Even I know there’s no pill for something like this. If I go to a shrink, they’ll lock me up and throw away the key. I’ll be a freak. Promise me you won’t tell anyone, Wylie. I need to think. Really think. Go out to the kitchen and let me see if I can…read…
hear
your mind at a distance. Promise first.”

“Well sure. Whom would I tell? Maybe you’re just stressed. Sometimes it helps if you talk about things that are bothering you.” He didn’t mean to look at the dining room table, but he did. “The ring is gone from your finger. You did say you weren’t getting married, so I have to assume something went awry. Maybe that’s what’s stressing you out.”

“You’re a lawyer, right? I want to retain you. Here,” Lucy said, fishing in the purse that was on the table behind the sofa. “Here’s five bucks for my retainer. Everything is now privileged, and you can’t talk to anyone about me. Correct?”

“Well, yeah. Okay, you’re my client.” Wylie pocketed the five dollars. “I’m not going to like this, am I?” he said as he made his way to the kitchen.

“No,” Lucy whispered, “you are not going to like this at all. Think!” she shouted.

“All right, I’m thinking!” Wylie bellowed from the kitchen. “Can you hear me?”

“I can hear your voice but I can’t
hear
your thoughts,” Lucy shouted again. “Keep thinking.”

Ten minutes later, Lucy called a halt to the experiment. “Obviously, in order for me to
hear
you, you have to be reasonably close.” As she hugged her knees to her chest, both dogs pressed against her sides. “I’m scared, Wylie. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared before. I don’t know what to do.”

“I have an idea, Lucy. I’ll warm up some dinner for you, make you a cup of tea, and we can talk. I have all night. Since tomorrow is Saturday, I don’t have to go into the city. I’ll help in whatever way I can.” All thoughts of the legal brief he had intended to work on during the weekend flew right out of his mind.

Lucy took a moment to reflect on what she was doing. Who was this man she was literally trusting with her life? A neighbor whose dog had moved in with her so it could be with her dog. A neighbor she had only seen once or twice and had never even spoken to until a day ago. Maybe she really was crazy and needed a shrink.
No,
she told herself,
Wylie is okay. He’s warm, compassionate, and he loves animals. Putting my trust in Wylie is not a mistake.
Childishly, she crossed her fingers.

•   •   •

Lucy walked out of Kennedy Hospital on Saturday afternoon with Wylie at her side. Surprisingly, her head was quiet. The CAT scan, the MRI, and all the other tests she’d undergone had showed no abnormalities. As Dr. Schlesinger put it, “You’re golden!”

Wylie cupped Lucy’s elbow in his hand. “I don’t know about you, but I sure feel relieved. You must be exhausted. Why don’t you wait here while I get the car. It’s still pretty icy, and this light snow is masking the ice patches.”

“Okay, Wylie. I really appreciate your coming with me today. I owe you.”

Wylie yanked at the baseball cap on his head. He turned the brim to the back before he loped off to the parking lot.

Lucy stepped under the overhang as a family of four exited the building. She strained to pick up their thoughts as they discussed the new baby they’d just seen. Nothing came back to her. She frowned. Maybe she could only
hear
thoughts if the person was stressed, excited, or angry. Maybe she herself had to be stressed, excited, or angry. She’d certainly felt that way last night. She was calm now that a team of doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with her after five hours of testing. Maybe the whole thing was some kind of crazy fluke. She was glad she hadn’t told any of the doctors about the Chinese fire drill going on inside her head. She was relieved also because she wouldn’t have to seek out a shrink and bare her soul.

Wylie pulled alongside the curb in his Land Rover, reached across, and opened the door for her. The heater was blasting warm air. Lucy buckled up and leaned her head back against the headrest. “Are you thinking, Wylie? Because if you are, I can’t
hear
you.”

Wylie grinned. “That’s a relief. Listen, how do you feel about going out for some Chinese? While you were being tested, I did all my Saturday errands, made Coop his meat loaf, fed the dogs, picked up my dry cleaning, and did my week’s grocery shopping. I even washed some clothes. My evening is free.”

“Chinese is good, but let’s take it home. The weather’s pretty ugly. I’d rather sit by a fire and eat. I miss the dogs.”

“That’s doable. You sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Pretty much so. My head isn’t a war zone at the moment. What if it comes back? How am I going to deal with that?”

Wylie stopped for a traffic light at the corner of Grove and Oak Tree Road. “I don’t know, Lucy. I think you should try and figure out why this happened to you. Stress does some really strange things to people. If you want to talk about it, I’m a good listener. You paid me a retainer, so you might as well get your money’s worth.”

Lucy laughed. “You have a point. Do you want me to call and order the food?”

“Good idea. Get some of everything. Do you like Chinese beer?”

Lucy looked across at Wylie. “I love Chinese beer. Do you?”

“Yeah, and Japanese beer, too. I like eating hibachi food with a good bottle of Sapporo. How about we go tomorrow night? Little Tokyo has the best.” Wylie waited, holding his breath, for her answer. If she said yes, that meant they had a date. If she said no, that would mean she was still hung up on the guy who gave her the headlamp for a ring. A ring she no longer wore.

Lucy weighed the question. She thought about the federal agents, about Jonathan and what was going on in her life. She adored Japanese food. “I’d love to go to Little Tokyo with you, Wylie.”

Well hot damn! She must like me,
he thought.

She must like me.
Lucy turned to look at Wylie. “Why wouldn’t I like you after all you’ve done for me?”

Wylie slammed his foot on the brake and turned into the parking lot of the grammar school on Oak Tree Road. After the Rover came to a complete stop, he turned to look at her. “I didn’t say anything, Lucy. You just read my mind.
Again.”

Lucy stared at Wylie as she struggled to digest his words. Her head wasn’t hurting. She felt fine. Even the pain behind her eyes and ears was gone. “Are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

Wylie yanked at his cap. “I’m positive. I was thinking how great it was and that maybe you liked me after all. I was excited.”

Lucy tilted her head for a better look at her companion. “Maybe that’s part of the answer. You were excited. Are you thinking now?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, if you are, I don’t have a clue as to what you’re thinking. This is crazy!” Lucy dropped her head into her hands and started to cry.

Wylie looked across at Lucy, uncertain what to do. If there was one thing in the world he hated, it was seeing a woman cry. For a moment he was tempted to lie and say he’d spoken aloud just so she would stop crying. “Listen, Lucy, we’re going to figure this out. I have a friend who’s on staff at Duke University. He studies parapsychology and stuff of that nature. I can call him. It won’t hurt to ask questions. I’m thinking this is just a temporary kind of thing, something you’re going to have to live with till it…till it goes away. You said yourself you were feeling better, your head is clear, nothing hurts. You did have all those tests. Physically, you’re okay.”

Lucy raised her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Okay,” she murmured. “Are you still thinking?”

“Yes. My brain is going a mile a minute. Can you hear me?”

Lucy shook her head. “Okay, I was going to call the restaurant. We can talk about this later.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Wylie jammed the baseball cap back on his head. “Make sure you get some hot mustard.”

•   •   •

By ten o’clock the kitchen was clean, Wylie had walked the dogs, replenished the fire, and poured a fresh glass of beer for both himself and Lucy. He carried a tray loaded with munchies to snack on.

This was what he liked, what he had hungered for when he was married to Allison. It hadn’t happened because Allison wasn’t into home, hearth, dogs, and Chinese out of a carton. The only time she’d ever curled up on the sofa was when she had the flu. She didn’t like a fire because it bothered her cat-green contact lenses. She didn’t like beer because it bloated her. Chinese and Japanese food made her sleepy. The only time she came alive was when she went shopping or they dined at a five-star restaurant.