The Nosy Neighbor by Fern Michaels

yesterday and sprained my ankle. I also gave my head a good crack.” She fingered the bump on her head and winced. “I repeat, what do you want?”
    Instead of answering her question, the second agent said, “Was that Mr. Banks on the phone?”
    “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Agent Conover. Why are you here? I told you yesterday I don’t know anything about Jonathan’s business. If I don’t know anything, how can I possibly help you?”
    Lucy wondered how two men could wear identical blank expressions.
    “Then why did you go to his apartment yesterday? Did you leave him a note or a warning? That’s another way of saying we don’t believe you.”
    Pretend outrage rang in Lucy’s voice. “You followed me!”
    “Why did you go there?” Agent Conover asked a second time. “You said you had never been to Mr. Banks’s apartment, but all of a sudden, after we spoke, you suddenly wanted to visit your fiancé’s apartment. I guess you were a little surprised to see that it was empty.”
    Conover had her there, and she knew it. Lucy motioned to the two agents to follow her into the kitchen. She nodded as she watched the water drip through the coffeepot. She turned on one foot and reached into the cabinet for a cup. One cup. There was no way she was going to offer these two a cup of coffee. She tried unobtrusively to sneak a look at the clock on the range to see how much time she had before Jonathan called back. A precious few minutes. “Since you know the apartment is virtually empty, I hope you had a search warrant when you entered.”
    The agents ignored her comment. “We have it on good authority that Mr. Banks will be joining you for Thanksgiving. That’s six days from now. We were going to ask you to come into our office in Manhattan, but seeing as how you’re slightly incapacitated, we can have our superiors come here. We need to talk, Miss Baker. We want you to help us.”
    The words sounded so ominous that Lucy felt herself cringe. What exactly did they mean by help ?
    “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t know anything about Jonathan or his business. Yes, I was upset yesterday after we spoke. I didn’t believe what you said about my fiancé. That’s why I went to his apartment. In case you don’t already know, I picked the lock. I don’t know why there isn’t any furniture other than a few chairs and tables. Maybe Jonathan doesn’t like the area, or maybe he can’t break his lease. He’s only in the city a few days at a time. Perhaps he likes staying at a hotel where everything is done for him. I simply don’t know. There’s nothing I can do to help you because I don’t know anything. What right do you have to come here and turn my life upside down this way?”
    Agent Conover looked pointedly at his watch. “We’ll call you to set up an appointment. Be sure to answer your phone, Miss Baker.”
    The moment Lucy opened the door to usher the two men out, Wylie and the dogs blasted through. She would have slammed and locked the door if not for Wylie and the dogs. Wylie unhooked the two leashes and hung them on the peg on the coatrack. Lucy thanked him and waited to see what he was going to do. Instead of leaving, he followed the dogs to the kitchen. She groaned as she locked the door behind the two agents.
    In the kitchen, Lucy watched as Wylie handed out chews to the two dogs, who trotted off to the living room. It irritated her that her neighbor was making himself so at home.
    “Talk about your steely-eyed whoever and whatever they are. Those guys looked like CIA wannabes to me. Are you okay, Lucy? You look worried. Is something wrong?”
    Lucy brushed at the hair that was falling over her forehead, aware suddenly of how she looked and what she was wearing—a faded plum-colored sweat suit. The phone rang at that precise moment. Answer it, not answer it? Lucy opted for the latter.
    “It’s just my brother. He calls every morning before he goes to work. That old