Love is Murder (55 page)

“Ted.”

“I’m Andrew. I’ll get you back to shore.” He glanced at Lucy. “You okay?”

“I’m good.” She rested a minute while Andrew secured Ted to the rescue board. When he was ready, the lifeguard pulled the board with Ted and she followed at a steady pace.

Was Ted delirious or had someone really tried to kill him?

By the time she got back to the shore, Andrew was assessing Ted’s injuries. An EMT unit was coming down the beach.

“Thank you, thank you,” the blonde repeated. “What happened?”

The lifeguard said, “Caught in a riptide is my guess.” Lucy didn’t think so, but before she could question Ted or the lifeguard, the EMT arrived.

Sean pulled Lucy to him and hugged her tightly. His body felt hot against her cold skin. She held on, shaking from the adrenaline spike and cold water, grateful for someone to lean on.

He looked down at her, his dark blue eyes full of both worry and pride. He pushed her long, dark hair out of her face. “You really don’t know how to relax, do you?” He kissed her repeatedly. “Let’s get you in a hot shower.”

“I need it.”

He smiled at her, his dimple practically winking. “Me, too.”

* * *

While Sean and Lucy napped after sharing a long shower, the phone rang. Wendy Potter, Ted’s fiancée, insisted on taking them to drinks as a thank-you. “Why’d you give her our number?” Sean moaned. Sean tried to talk Lucy out of agreeing, but Lucy hadn’t been able to get Ted’s odd comment out of her mind.

Three hours later, just after sunset, they walked into a popular club. “One hour, tops,” Lucy assured Sean as they spotted the other couple.

“I’m holding you to that.” Sean glanced at his watch.

Lucy smiled as they sat down. “You look much better than you did earlier,” she said to Ted. He was of average height and build, with a warm manner and attractive smile, even though he appeared both tired and apprehensive. Lucy’s mother would classify Wendy as “cute as a button”—blond-haired, blue-eyed and petite. She, too, looked worried.

“We don’t know how to thank you,” Wendy said.

“I’m just glad I could help.”

“What happened out there?” Sean asked. “The lifeguard said you were caught in a riptide?”

Ted shook his head. “No, and the risk of riptides was low today. I checked before I went out.”

“You were out pretty far,” Lucy said.

He looked sheepish. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’ll admit. Then I began to feel light-headed and my heart was racing. I felt high, but I haven’t done drugs since college. Then—” he glanced at Wendy.

She said, “It’s not like she wouldn’t do it!”

Lucy’s interest was piqued. “Excuse me?”

“His ex-girlfriend.”

Ted took a long drink from his beer. “I broke up with Patty a year ago, and she’s made my life a living hell since then.”

“You think she drugged you?”

“I think she tried to kill me. I felt something grab my legs. I kicked and thrashed, and it still pulled me down. I know it sounds ludicrous, but she’s a diver.”

“Did you tell the police?” Lucy asked. They remained silent. “You need to file a report and get a restraining order.”

Wendy laughed humorlessly. Ted said, “I can’t go to the police. Patty is a cop. The first time she harassed me, it was right after I moved out. She trashed my new apartment. I filed a report, but there was no proof she did it. Then two of her cop friends beat me up when I was walking to my car after work. She then started following me, accidentally bumping into me at a restaurant, or the movies, things like that.”

Wendy said, “Six months ago I transferred to Boston for a job and met Ted. On our third date, Patty showed up at the restaurant and made a scene. The manager called the police, and when they arrived, they arrested Ted! If I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have believed it. He didn’t
do
anything except try to calm her down.”

“A week later,” Ted said, “I was arrested for assault. Patty said I’d gone to her house and when she told me to leave I hit her. I was never there!”

“You have other options,” Lucy said. “Reporting her to internal affairs, for example. Or to the FBI if you’re concerned about police corruption.”

“I didn’t know I could go to the FBI. I guess that’s next.” He sighed, defeated. “I just want my life back. I proposed to Wendy on Saturday, and we were enjoying our vacation until today. How did she find us? We even lied to our friends and families, told them we were going to Maine because we didn’t want them accidentally telling her where we were.”

Lucy had been skeptical when they started their story, but they both had the right body language and verbal responses. Still, while police corruption existed, could a cop get her buddies to participate in such harassment? “Why would her friends help her?”

“She’s a liar,” Wendy said. “She told me once that Ted left her because she was pregnant, then had a miscarriage. Then she changed her story and said Ted made her have an abortion.
Then
she said she had her tubes tied because Ted didn’t want any kids.”

“None of that was true,” Ted said. “She even called my mother and told her we were engaged! The only reason the assault charges were dropped was because I had a good lawyer, but then
Patty
got a restraining order against
me!
”

Sean spoke up for the first time. “Can I see your cell phone?” Ted handed it over. While inspecting the device, Sean asked, “Have you posted any pictures of your trip on the internet? On Facebook? Emailed anyone?”

Wendy shook her head. “No. We didn’t want them to know—God, I hate that she’s turned us into liars, too!”

“I know how she found you,” Sean said. He powered down the phone and took out the battery. “Don’t use your phone until you contact your provider and tell them to wipe your backup files, then have the software reinstalled. You’ll lose everything on the phone, but it’ll also wipe her GPS tracking program.”

“She had us bugged?” Wendy asked, incredulous.

“Close. She knew exactly where the phone was at all times.”

“I’ll get another phone,” Ted said.

Sean shook his head. “Won’t do any good. The program is integrated and unless you get a completely new phone number and account, it will be downloaded from your backup files.”

“We have friends in law enforcement who might be able to help,” Lucy said.

“It’s too late,” Ted said. “Wendy and I have been talking about leaving Boston and moving to California. My sister lives there and said we can stay with her until we find jobs.”

“And you don’t think she knows where your sister lives?” Lucy said. “Your ex-girlfriend is obsessed. If she tried to kill you today, moving cross-country isn’t going to stop her. If you file charges—” She stopped. “Did you get a drug test this afternoon?” When they shook their heads, she added, “Depending on the drug, it may still be in your system. Go to the hospital first thing in the morning. Or now.” Though, even if the test was positive, there would be no proof that his ex-girlfriend had been the person who’d drugged him.

Wendy said, “I thought I saw her yesterday, but dismissed it—I wasn’t certain because her hair was much darker and she wore big sunglasses.”

“Even if we could prove she was here, that’s still not going to help.” Sean picked up Ted’s phone again. “I have an idea.”

Lucy didn’t like the plan even before hearing Sean’s plan. “I already don’t like it.”

He grinned as he popped the battery back in the phone. “What do you mean? I haven’t even told you.”

“I know you, Sean Rogan.”

He leaned over and kissed her, then said softly, “You know and I know that Ted’s psychotic ex-girlfriend will get caught eventually, but probably not until after they’re dead.”

Wendy gasped.

“Tactful,” Lucy muttered.

Sean turned to the newly engaged couple. “So this is the plan. We’re taking your phone and your room. Where are you staying?”

“We have a cottage on the beach,” Wendy said. “But I don’t understand.”

“I also need her full name and address if you have it.”

“Why would you help us?”

“It’s what I do.” Sean slid over his business card. “I’m in the security business. It’s clear to me that your stalker has escalated. She’s going to kill you unless we stop her. And it’s also clear that going through the proper channels at this point will take too long. So what do you say?”

Lucy wanted them to decline, but wasn’t surprised when they both nodded their heads. “What do you want us to do?” Ted asked.

Sean explained how they would trade phones and rooms, then wait.

“Do you really think she’ll try to kill Ted again?”

“If she’s still in town? I guarantee it.”

* * *

For well over an hour, Sean and Lucy sat in Ted and Wendy’s small cottage, digging up everything they could on the parties involved. It wasn’t that they didn’t believe Ted and Wendy, but their story did stretch credibility. A cursory background check showed them to be exactly who they said they were.

Because of his P.I. license and RCK connections, Sean could go deep. Because of his computer skills, he could do it faster than most. “Patricia Annette Glover, thirty-two, born in Providence, Rhode Island,” he said. “Received an AA from a community college. Joined the Army Reserves when she was eighteen. She went through the police academy and worked for Boston Police Department for seven years, then her Reserves unit was called up for service in Iraq. She volunteered for two more tours. Was honorably discharged three years ago.”

“And went back to Boston P.D.?”

“Newton Police Department, not far from Boston.”

“Big city to small city.” Lucy wondered why the switch. “I don’t suppose you can access her records?”

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Legally? No. But it wouldn’t be difficult—”

Lucy shook her head rapidly. “Please don’t.”

He laughed. “You’re so much fun to tease.”

“What can you
legally
get on her?”

“She and our man Ted lived together for a year. And he moved out fourteen months ago like he said. Here’s her photo—very pretty.”

Lucy examined the image of the sandy blonde—Patty was attractive at first glance, but her smile was forced and didn’t reach her eyes. The picture was taken at a police function, though not everyone was in uniform. While the rest of the group were close together, hands on the arms or shoulders of their colleagues, Patty was distinctly separated, an aura of loneliness surrounding her.

Lucy made up the bed to look like two people were sleeping close together. She eyed her handiwork. In the dark, it would pass.

“Glover has clean credit, pays her bills on time, and stays under the radar. If I had just two days, I could have my brother look at her military record through his contacts—getting it through proper channels would take forever.” Sean put his computer to sleep and turned off all the lights. Streetlights illuminated the room just enough to make out shapes and shadows. “On the surface, they’re all clean. Even Ted and Wendy’s social networking is minimal.”

Lucy stood by the front window—the two side windows were too narrow for entry—and Sean had the cottage door covered. They hadn’t seen any sign of Ted’s ex-girlfriend, but now that the lights were off, they expected if she was going to show, it would be before dawn. Much easier to attack when your prey was asleep.

“This isn’t the romantic getaway I’d planned,” Sean said.

“We’ll do it again.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. “You’re leaving in a few days. You’ll be wrapped up in training.”

“I’ll still have twenty-four hours off every weekend. Saturday night, I’m yours.”

He grinned. “I’m holding you to that, princess.”

“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Lucy said, “but I already know I’ll miss you.” She’d been preparing for her FBI training for what seemed like years—everything she’d done since college had been aimed toward this moment. Now, she had something more she cared about, someone she loved, that equaled her passion for her career. And, maybe, if she allowed herself to feel deeply, surpassed it.

“How does love turn so wrong?” Lucy asked.

“Wrong? There’s nothing wrong with the way we feel—oh. You’re thinking about Ted and Patty.”

“I mean, I understand the psychology of stalkers. How they are created, their obsessive need. That it’s about control and fear and the inability to allow another to have freedom. The excessive unwarranted jealousy, the doubt, the lack of self-worth, as if all that they are is because of someone else. But when is the switch flipped? What’s the trigger? What makes them want to kill someone they profess to love?”

“Because it’s not love and it never was,” Sean said. “Love is letting go, confident your lover will return. Love is helping make your partner the best that they can be.”

“You do that for me,” Lucy whispered.

“It goes both ways. That’s why we work. Never forget that, Luce.”

They remained silent, focused on the sounds outside, waiting.

Sean broke the silence thirty minutes later and said, “We still need a real vacation.”

“I get four days off at Thanksgiving.”

“Those days are mine.”

“It’ll be in San Diego. My parents will shoot me if I don’t go home this year. But between my parents and brothers and sisters, we won’t have much time alone.”

“We’ll find the time. Provided no one we know has a psycho ex-girlfriend.”

Lucy almost laughed. She looked at her watch. It was well after midnight; they’d been here over three hours. She called her cell phone, which they’d given to Ted. No answer. “I can’t reach Ted.”

“Dammit! I should have stayed with them. Let’s go.”

* * *

Under a broken streetlight, Patty Glover sat on a bench and watched the bed-and-breakfast for three hours. The night was still warm, but a light breeze off the bay cooled her.

She wore all black, her newly darkened hair pulled sharply back from her face, the faint hint of dye surrounding her.

Ted thought he could reject her. He thought he could exchange her for a cuter, less-damaged model.

She’d spent three years of her life with Ted. From the first moment she saw him, she knew he was the only one for her.