She met the judge’s eyes in the mirror.
“You’d let me wear your clothes?”
“Only what you’d need for the weekend. Loungewear, T-shirts, jeans, that sort of thing. Because otherwise you’d need to go back to Cambridge now to get your things, and unfortunately I really need to get going.”
Madison rubbed her eyes. Her mind felt foggy. Was she understanding correctly?
“You’re leaving now?”
“In the next fifteen minutes if I’m going to make the last flight to DC. I know it’s a lot to ask.”
“Where would I sleep?”
“There’s an au pair suite upstairs that’s just darling, with a clawfoot tub and a brass bed with a down comforter. I just need to turn on the heat up there, and you’ll be very comfortable. I’ll give you my Instacart login. You can order from Whole Foods, Eataly, whatever you like, and just work all weekend, like a retreat. Doesn’t that sound good?”
Should she really be staying here? What with the drug case, Danny, the blank spot on that employment form?
“I—um, unfortunately, I have obligations, so—”
“I’m sure you do, Madison, and I know it’s last minute. But you’d be very well-compensated. How does a thousand dollars for the weekend sound?”
It sounded fantastic, but still.
The judge checked her watch, then placed a hand urgently on Madison’s arm.
“Please. Say yes. Really, I’d be in your debt.”
That decided it.
“Yes,” she said.
More than the money, or the beautiful house, or the Instacart from fancy food purveyors, Madison wanted Judge Conroy to owe her a favor. That was the way out of her predicament. She’d be the perfect pet sitter, and Judge Conroy would be grateful. Then, when Madison told her about Danny, she’d be less likely to fire her. Or inform the dean. Or refer her for prosecution.
Hopefully.
10
Judge Conroy slipped out the back door and melted into the darkness. The cat had gone into hiding. Madison refreshed her food and water bowls, scooped out the litter box, and called her name repeatedly, to no avail.
A headache hammered behind her eyes like an icepick. In search of Tylenol, she rummaged through the pantry cabinet. Just a dusty box of crackers, a jar of cornichons, some expired olive oil, and several cans of tuna fish. Was there any real food in this house? She peeked inside the refrigerator. The vast, gleaming expanse was empty except for a container of almond milk, some sriracha, and an open bottle of Perrier, which had gone flat. As she spilled it into the sink, she heard a thump and froze.
Lucy?
But the cat was nowhere in sight. A gust of wind, maybe? The house settling? It was enough to remind her that she was alone here and ought to arm the security system. The judge said to do that. On her way out the door, she had numerous security instructions, way more than she did about the cat. Keep the blinds drawn. Don’t answer the door or the landline. Keep the security system armed at all times. Madison took frantic notes as the judge spouted off the alarm codes. There was a code for the doors, another for windows, a third to bypass the interior motion sensors. They had to be inputted in a precise sequence. If you screwed up, something as simple as the cat walking around the house could trigger the alarm. That would result in a call to the judge’s phone and an alert to the police. Things had to go well this weekend. She couldn’t let that happen.
Squinting at the notes on her phone, she tapped a long series of numbers into the keypad in the back hall. As the word “Armed” flashed in red letters, she breathed out. Crisis avoided.
Next, she texted her mother, apologizing that she couldn’t make it to the jail tomorrow.
I got the court documents like we discussed and will be following up leads tomorrow. I’m sorry I doubted Danny. I realize now that he’s telling the truth. Call after the visit and tell me how it went. Love you!
Now, where was that cat?
She stood at the bottom of the grand staircase. A glow of light from the judge’s bedroom spilled onto the landing.
“Luuucy? Are you up there?”
Clutching her phone, she ascended, unnerved by every creak of the treads, looking up at the darkness above. Where were the light switches? And what was that noise? There it was again, a knocking sound, coming from the judge’s bedroom. The door stood ajar.
“Lucy? Is that you, kitty?”
Her voice came out high and thin. Her heart was palpitating. She hesitated to go in. That was the judge’s private space. It was like a luxury hotel in there. Thick drapes, plush carpets, soft lighting, a bed piled high with silk pillows. But she had to find Lucy, and make sure the noise was nothing bad.