Aha! A theater degree was good for something!
How long could I hide underneath the bed? Certainly if they were looking for something, under the bed might be a good place to search.
I heard drawers being pulled open.
Rich mumbled to himself, “Okay, if I were that stupid bitch, where would I put it?”
What a pig.
“Look at this!” the woman called from a different part of the house.
I heard Rich tread out. I peeked out from under the dust ruffle. The room was empty.
I could hear them arguing in the kitchen, but couldn’t make out any of the words. I had to find a better hiding place.
I scooted over to the far-right-hand side of the bed and wondered if I could make it back into the master bath before they returned to the bedroom.
What then? Was there a window in the bathroom? I didn’t recall seeing one. Could I hide out in the bathtub until they left? I figured the bathroom was my only hope.
I crawled out from underneath the bed and dashed back to the bathroom, diving into the tub. I pulled the shower curtain closed, trying to keep as quiet as possible.
There was a small window, also painted shut. Even if I could pry it open, it was way too small to squeeze out of.
There were two of them and one of me. I hoped they were unarmed. Were they the killers? Was my life in danger? I immediately thought of Laurie. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to me. The thought of leaving her so tiny and vulnerable, without a mommy, almost brought me to tears.
I pulled my diaper purse close and rummaged past the reports to find my cell phone. I grabbed it from the bottom. Thank God I’d remembered to pack it.
I punched in 9-1-1.
Nothing happened.
I’d remember to pack it, but not to charge it.
I heard footsteps again. Tears sprang to my eyes. I was going to die in this half-renovated Victorian. Just like Michelle.
Who only renovates half a house anyway? Why couldn’t she have put new windows in the bedroom? It wasn’t like she didn’t have the money.
I crouched down farther into the bathtub.
The front door squeaked open, then slammed shut.
Were they gone?
Thank God. I crawled out of the bathtub and pulled open the bathroom door.
I had to get out of here fast.
What kind of stupid idea was it to come here anyway? I left the bedroom and entered the hall. I flew past the kitchen toward the entryway and smack into Rich.
I gasped.
He stared at me, his face beet red. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I had to think fast!
“Oh, my God!” I covered my heart with my hand. “You startled me. I was in the garden, watering.” I smiled my most innocent, sincere smile. All those years of im prov couldn’t go to waste. “What are you doing here?”
The redness in his face was dissipating. He smiled now, too. His flirt smile, honed by years of skirt chasing. “Well, I came over to water, too!”
Right.
Still in character, I squeezed his arm. “Aw! If I had known, I could have saved you the trip.”
I delicately sidestepped him, heading toward the front door.
Move, move, now! a voice inside my head ordered.
Rich pushed his shoulder out a bit, just slightly but enough to block my way. “How long you been here?”
I blinked up at him. “Not long. It only took a few minutes to water.”
Why didn’t I have a gun, dammit? Or mace or something, anything, to protect myself! I hated to have to suck up to this creep.
If I was going to be legit, I’d need the PI license and a gun permit.
Rich pushed his hand against the door. He looked me up and down. “You want to get a drink?”
Oh, for God’s sake!
I feigned disappointment. “I’d love to, but I have to get back home. To my baby.” I enunciated “baby” for good measure.
He nodded. “Right! Hey, listen! I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention my being here to Mrs. A.”
It took every ounce of self-control not to break the flirt/airhead character I was in. I smiled, and tilted my head to the side. “No prob.”
He let go of the door. “Thanks. I . . . she . . . just gets weird about stuff.”
I seized the moment to pull open the door. “Got to run,” I called over my shoulder, wiggling my fingers as I bounced down the steps without looking back.
My heart was racing. Laurie, Jim, and safety were the only things on my mind.
As soon as I was out of sight, I ran toward my Chevy. I glanced over my shoulder. Rich hadn’t followed me. I got into the car and started the engine as quickly as I could.
I locked the doors, just in case. An image of Rich running after me, trying to get in through the passenger side window, flashed through my mind. Something like you’d see in the movies. A quick check of my rearview mirror told me he’d already forgotten about me and was probably busy searching the house again.