The Postman Always Purls Twice (9 page)

Lucy ignored this obvious bid for sympathy. Suzanne groused at times, but totally adored her Mom routine, often moaning that her brood was growing up too quickly.

“What's your excuse for going over there again?”

“The addendum from the insurance company finally came and I have to drop it off for Lyle. A totally valid reason,” she insisted.

Lucy guessed that this document could be emailed to the location manager in seconds. But she didn't bother with further debate. Suzanne was right. Why put up such a fuss about meeting Heath O'Hara? She might not get another chance.

“Guess I need to get up early. To wash my hair and work on a good outfit.”

“That's the spirit, Lu. I knew you'd see reason if I worked on you long enough.” Suzanne sounded cheered by Lucy's change in attitude.

Lucy had returned to the TV room, where she found Matt slumped back on the sofa, looking forlorn. The Yankees were ahead three runs. Most of the popcorn had spilled and the dogs were happily grazing.

“See you tomorrow. And don't chicken out on me. I'll
never
forgive you,” Suzanne warned in a solemn tone.

Lucy knew her friend was only kidding. Under her brassy, sassy persona, Suzanne was loving mush. Though her temper might flare, she was always the first to forgive and forget.

“Don't worry, I won't chicken out. See you at ten.” Lucy flopped onto the other end of the sofa and put her phone aside.

“Who are you not chickening out on?” Matt smiled at her curiously.

Lucy shrugged. She was embarrassed to admit that she was joining Suzanne on this star-stalking scheme. They were almost as bad as the nutcase who'd left the roses for Jennifer Todd.

“Oh . . . nothing.” She quickly sensed he was not satisfied with that answer. “Hey, how did the Sox fall behind like that? That's not good.”

“Error in the outfield. We'll catch up . . . and you're trying to change the subject. This must be good.”

That was the trouble with Matt. He could always see right through her. Lucy gave up and decided to divulge the silly plan.

“Suzanne has to drop off some papers at the movie set, and she asked me to come with her.”

“Sounds like fun.” Matt looked back at the TV. “I thought you were all going on the set Thursday night.”

“We are. But Heath O'Hara might not be there then. Suzanne is very concerned about that. She hopes she can catch a glimpse of him tomorrow.”

Running on the beach, with his shirt off, was her friend's exact fantasy. But Lucy didn't bother to admit those details.

“How about you? Are you hoping to
catch a glimpse
of him, too?” Matt grinned, echoing her nonchalant tone.

“Honey . . . why would I look twice at Heath O'Hara, when I have you?” Lucy took a sip of coffee, hiding behind the rim of her mug.

Matt laughed and then, to her surprise, slid across the cushions and loomed over her. “Good. That was the A answer.”

“I didn't know it was a test.”

He took the cup from her hands and put it aside. “It was. But I still might have to tag along tomorrow. I'm not sure I should let you near that handsome, millionaire heartthrob all alone. You might sweep him off his feet.”

Lucy laughed out loud. Matt had both his arms around her so that she was captured. Lovingly captured. She lifted her hands and touched his face. “That's sweet. But the only way I could sweep Heath O'Hara off his feet is with a broom.”

Matt smiled and kissed her nose. “Not true. I fell for you at first sight . . . Or maybe you did have a broom with you? I can't remember now.”

Lucy had a feeling he recalled their first meeting better than that; the fateful day she'd brought her dog to Matt's veterinary practice. She remembered. Every last detail.

He gazed into her eyes, then pulled her closer as their lips met in a deep, warm kiss. While Lucy wiggled around to stretch out next to him, Matt leaned over and shut the light . . . and then clicked off the TV.

“Wow, you're missing the game for me?” Lucy teased him, kissing his ear. “That is passion.”

“Absolutely. I just want to remind you that I know I'm a lucky guy. Luckier than Heath O'Hara any day of the week.”

Lucy was more than satisfied with that explanation. She thought she was pretty lucky, too.

She didn't have another thought about movie stars, either, and vaguely wondered now why she'd even agreed to join Suzanne.

Suzanne's SUV pulled into the driveway promptly. Lucy was ready and waiting, wearing good jeans, a long, smoky-blue cardigan, and a scarf she'd made from very fine yarn in hues of blue, gray, and purple.

“Hey, you look great. Nice work on the hair,” Suzanne complimented her as she backed out of the driveway and onto the road in one smooth move. “You hardly ever wear it down like that.”

“It's a pain to dry it. But this is a special occasion.”

“Absolutely. I tried to get a wash-and-blow with my hairdresser this morning, but the salon wasn't open yet.”

Lucy laughed at Suzanne's concern. “Don't be silly, you look great. I love that outfit.”

Suzanne had dressed in a gray wool suit with a tailored silk blouse underneath, a vibrant shade of pink with small cream-colored polka dots. Large gold earrings and a chunk bracelet said successful realtor, Lucy thought.

“Thanks. It's my ‘closing outfit.' Is the blouse too much?”

The blouse was definitely bright. But if anyone could pull it off, it had to be Suzanne. “It suits you.”

“Dumb, right? We might not even see Heath O'Hara. Even if we do, what would I do? What would I say?”

Lucy wasn't sure if Suzanne was asking for suggestions, or just thinking out loud. “I'm sure you'll think of something. Ask for an autograph?”

“Good plan. Promise you'll give me a poke if I just stand there and babble . . . or maybe drool on myself, struck dumb.” Suzanne's anxious scenario made Lucy laugh.

They'd quickly driven through the Marshes, a comfortable family neighborhood near the beach where Lucy and Matt lived. Suzanne knew all the back roads and drove a maze of streets to finally emerge on the Beach Road, which swung past the Plum Harbor Country Club and an affluent waterfront neighborhood, where stately old houses and large estates stood hidden behind tall trees, brick walls, and wrought iron gates. Lucy had only been inside one of these homes since moving to the area, the Lassiter estate, where she and her friends had attended both a wedding and a funeral within a week. She wondered if Suzanne was also remembering those strange events. She glanced at her driver, who seemed totally swept up in today's adventure.

“Where are we going?” Lucy asked, gazing around. “Downton Abbey?”

“We'll definitely be in the neighborhood. But the house they rented for the movie is very modern. Looks like an off-kilter layer cake, with loads of windows and balconies. I have a feeling Trina Hardwick's character gets pushed off one. So Heath's character can be free to marry Jennifer's,” Suzanne speculated.

“Are you sure you aren't just wishing that would happen, so he'll be free to be with you?” Lucy teased her.

“Do you think so, Dr. Freud?” Suzanne replied. “You should have been a shrink, Lucy. Except, from what Dana says, it's not as easy at it looks.”

“Nothing is. Not even being a famous movie star. I wouldn't want to live like Jennifer Todd, flanked by bodyguards every time I walked down the street.”

“How about having some creep whining at you from the shadows?
Jennifer . . . please . . . I love you!
” Suzanne imitated the fan who had called out Monday night at Maggie's shop, making Lucy laugh.

“Suzanne, stop . . .” Lucy warned between laughs. “It's not funny. And that wasn't even what he said, was it?”

“That's what he meant. But you're right, it was more like
,
‘Jennifer, you came back . . . We can be together now . . . Even though I'm crazy as a loon.' ”

Lucy still couldn't help laughing at Suzanne's silly voice. “Suzanne, it's sad. That guy is in pain. He was really troubled.”

Suzanne nodded, looking serious again. “Very true. I shouldn't make fun. It's just that entire situation was like a scene from a low-budget slasher flick. You know that kind of movie that's supposed to scare you to death, but it's so badly done you end up laughing?”

Lucy scared easily. She'd never seen a slasher movie, low budget or otherwise. She could barely watch a trailer for a scary movie without ducking under her seat.

“It was a bit absurd,” she acknowledged. “But I'm just realizing now, when you think about what the fan said, it sounds like he knew Jennifer at some point. Maybe they dated in high school?”

“Good point. At that stage of the game, you can really inflict some psychic damage. Even if you don't intend to. Sometimes I still think about this kid who broke up with me over the PA. It was in between ‘The Star-Spangled-Banner' and the daily announcements.”

“Over the school loudspeaker? You're kidding, right?”

“I wish. Talk about high school humiliation.” Suzanne shook her head, then raised her chin a notch. “That guy would be eating his heart out if we met again . . . if I hadn't run him over with my mom's minivan.”

“You didn't. You're just pulling my leg again.”

Suzanne stared straight ahead at the road and shrugged. “No, I didn't. But I really wanted to,” she added, finally cracking a smile.

Before Lucy could reply, she swung the big vehicle around a sharp turn Lucy hadn't even noticed. They drove down on a narrow, private road, lined with tall grass and dunes. Lucy could tell they were heading toward the water, though she couldn't see the beach yet.

“It's about a mile or so more this way,” Suzanne told her. “Right on the water. Some famous architect designed it. Completely sustainable. Awesome curb appeal. The owners are traveling through Asia on business. They were thrilled to rent the place. They might want to put it on the market soon, and I'd get an exclusive listing. They can't wait to see it in a movie.”

Lucy was about to reply when she suddenly heard an approaching siren. Suzanne glanced in the rearview mirror, then quickly pulled to the shoulder of the road, nearly driving into the beach grass.

“Police car. I wasn't speeding, was I?”

The two women stared at each other a moment. But the blue-and-white cruiser sped by. Suzanne breathed a sigh of relief.

“You never know. These police officers have to meet their quota of tickets every month and they'll pull you over for the slightest thing sometimes.”

She pulled back onto the road and soon turned onto a new road that ran parallel with the water. Lucy's jaw practically dropped, taking in the huge, fantastic properties.

“Wow . . . I don't think I've driven down here lately,” she said.

“There's been a lot of new construction. I'd love to sell one of these beach plums. Or even co-broke. That would be a year of college tuition. We just have to come up with . . . eleven more?”

Suzanne laughed while Lucy silently did the math. With her daughter in high school and twin boys in middle school, Suzanne and her husband had a lot of tuition to cover. The sum was daunting. To say the least.

“I'm hoping the couple who owns this house will decide to sell soon, or even rent. I think they're relocating their business to New York.”

“That would be good for you,” Lucy agreed.

“Yes it would . . . .but not if the house burns down!” Suzanne's optimistic musings suddenly took on a dire note. Her daydreamy smile melted into an expression of horror.

Lucy followed her gaze down the road, to the sight of two fire trucks and an ambulance blocking their path. Along with the police cruiser that had just sped by.

“Is that the house you rented to the movie company?”

Suzanne nodded bleakly. “Unless
another
house is on fire and they just had to park there?”

Unlikely, Lucy thought. Fire trucks generally tried to get as close as possible to the flames, didn't they?

But Lucy tried not to panic. When she turned to reassure her friend, Suzanne was driving with her face puckered up and her eyes squinched.

“Suzanne . . . you can't drive with your eyes shut, please!”

“I know . . . but I don't want to see.” She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead. “It
is
the house, Lucy. Look. There's another fire truck sticking out of the driveway.” She pointed in that direction. “It's a big piece of property. You can't see the house from the road. But that's the entrance of their private drive.”

“Maybe it's not that bad. It could be a little kitchen fire. A piece of burned toast could set off a smoke alarm connected to the fire department.”

“That's true,” Suzanne agreed in a dull tone.