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“I’d have to leave, anyway,” Lucy said. “I’m a teacher. Even if I wasn’t going in to school tomorrow, I’d have to take in lesson plans.”
Zack looked again into Lucy’s huge brown eyes and thought again about how much she needed a keeper.
Not him, of course.
Still…
“I will take them in. Now, about this sick-leave thing. How long have you been teaching?”
“Twelve years.”
“And how many sick days have you taken?”
“None.”
“That’s what I figured. So how many do you have saved up?”
“One hundred and thirty-eight,” Lucy said.
“So if you use a couple, you could still develop a major disease and have everything covered, right?”
“Right,” Lucy said, “but that’s not the point. The point is, I’m not sick.”
Why was it he finally found an honest citizen only when it worked against him? “Look. Think of this guy who’s trying to kill you as a life-threatening illness. I do.”
“I really think—”
“I told you, don’t think. Just do what I tell you. If it will help, I’ll shave and put on a suit and come back and tell you to stay inside. I’ll do whatever it takes. Because I really do think you’re in danger.” He gestured to the basement door. “These are all good locks. Take advantage of them. Stay inside and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Well…” Her pointed face was so confused under all that dead black hair that suddenly Zack’s annoyance faded and he felt protective again. She seemed so helpless, so soft and round and absolutely clueless about reality.
“Please,” he said. “Just for tonight.”
“All right.” Lucy swallowed at his earnestness. “But I still think you’re wrong. Anyway, if you give me a couple of minutes, I’ll print out the lesson plans. This is very nice of you. Thank you, Detective Warren.”
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