Free See No Evil by Gayle Roper Page B

tried to picture her as bodyguard, flack vest, protective helmet and all. Somehow she ended up looking a lot like the biblical David, laden down with King Saul’s armor just before he decided to confront Goliath with only his slingshot.
    I heard the front door open and Lucy yell, “Ricky, I’m home.”
    â€œIn the kitchen,” I called back.
    â€œRicky?” Gray asked.
    â€œIt’s her little bow to I Love Lucy. That’s what happens when your mother names you after a TV person. It’s almost as bad as being named after a color.”
    Gray grinned. “Ha-ha. Well, she’s got the red Lucy hair.” He poured himself some more lemonade.
    â€œMaybe I should run to the pound and get a very vicious pit bull.”
    â€œThat’s not a bad idea.”
    Actually it was a very good idea. I wondered what Meg would think of a dog in the house. A big one with teeth, but one who was smart enough not to eat one of us for dinner if I was late feeding him.
    At that moment Tipsy entered the kitchen and ambled to his water dish. He slurped indelicately.
    â€œTipsy won’t like a dog,” Gray said.
    I eyed the huge black beast who eyed me back with great golden eyes that never seemed to blink. “Tipsy doesn’t like anything.”
    â€œHe likes me,” Lucy said as she came into the room with a bag of groceries. She set them on the counter and gathered the cat in her arms, cradling him like a baby. “Don’t you, sweetheart?”
    â€œOf course he likes you,” I said. “You feed him.”
    â€œAre you sure he’s got a backbone?” Gray eyed the animal doubtfully. “He’s as limp as spaghetti.”
    Lucy adjusted him in her arms. “He may not have any bones, but he’s got plenty of fat.”
    As if he understood and knew the comment was derogatory, Tipsy turned and stared at Lucy who stared innocently back.
    â€œYou’ll never win a stare-down,” I said. “Tips doesn’t blink.”
    Lucy kissed the black monster on his nose and, bending, dumped him on the floor. She turned to the groceries and began stuffing them in the refrigerator.
    Gray tore a corner off his napkin and wrote a phone number.
    â€œWe’ve got real paper you could use,” I told him.
    He shrugged and pushed the napkin corner toward me. “This works fine. I’d give you a business card, but they’re all in the truck, and I don’t have time to go get one. I’ve got to get back to the site. Here’s my cell number. I want you to call me immediately if there’s any problem. Immediately!”
    â€œBefore or after 911?” I said, trying to defuse the anxiety building in me over his intense concern.
    He reached over and placed his hand on mine where it lay on the table. “Anna, I’m serious.”
    â€œAbout what? The danger? The dog? Calling you?”
    â€œYes.”
    Goody. I smiled weakly. “I’ll be okay. I’ve got Lucy.” Who had gone to get another bag of food from her car.
    â€œAnd lock all the doors when I leave.”
    I nodded, but I was all too aware that locked doors wouldn’t keep a determined killer at bay. They never did on TV. It was enough to make you wonder why you had locks to begin with.
    Gray stood and pulled me to my feet. Only then did I realize that somehow I had turned my hand over and that I now clasped his. Or he clasped mine. He seemed as surprised as I was, staring at our meshed palms.
    At that auspicious moment, Lucy came back into the kitchen. Her eyes widened when she saw our hands. With what could be seen as insulting speed, Gray released me.
    I trailed him as he walked to the front door, wishing for the comfort of his grip again. “What about you, Gray? Who’s going to keep you safe?”
    Gray paused with a hand on the doorknob. “He doesn’t want me.”
    â€œOh. Right.” How could I forget that little difference in our