“If I don’t check, I’ll worry about you. It’ll interfere with my sleep.”
“You’re interfering with my sleep. Good night, Charlie.”
Madison let up on the Audio button. The man glared at the camera, fists clenched. The wind gusted, blowing open his jacket, and she saw a holster under his arm. He has a gun. Taking a step closer to the door, he rattled the doorknob.
She whispered urgently into the phone, “Judge, he has a gun, and he’s trying the door.”
“Put the phone back. I’ll tell him not to.”
“Is the door strong enough to keep him out?”
“Put the phone back, Madison.”
Her hand shook as she held it up.
“Get away from the door, Charlie, or I’m calling the real police,” the judge said.
“Explain something to me. A friend of mine saw your name on the manifest for a flight to DC tonight.”
“That’s obviously a mistake. I’m right here.”
“He’s a reliable source.”
“Some lowlife who you pay? Please.”
“Open the door.”
“No. I know what you did. You tried to get in. Well, I’m sick of it. Get the fuck away from me. And if you try that again, I’m serious, I will call nine-one-one, and you can explain to your superiors. As if you don’t have enough complaints on file. Now, I’m going to sleep.”
The call dropped. Madison was rooted to the floor, staring at the doorknob, afraid to move for fear that he’d hear her. Slowly, she backed away.
Her phone buzzed with a text.
Are the blinds drawn?
Yes you said leave them down, she replied.
The request hadn’t seemed that strange at the time. In retrospect, it was ominous.
Good, keep them that way. Now reset the alarm.
Hold on.
Hands clumsy with nerves, she had to try twice to get it right.
Done.
OK turn off all lights and go back upstairs. And stay back from the windows. I don’t want him seeing your shadow or he’ll know it’s not me.
What would he do if he figured that out—shoot her through the window?
Who the fuck was this guy?
Trembling, she went around making sure the lights were off. In the darkened kitchen, she heard a noise and froze. Something brushed against her leg. She stifled a cry, then heard a meow. Lucy.
“Hey, girl, you scared me. C’mere,” she whispered, voice shaking.
Scooping up the wriggling cat, she crept up the stairs. At the top, without warning, the cat clawed her arm and jumped, bolting into the darkness.
“Ow. Not nice.”
She hurried up to the attic room where she’d been sleeping, dousing the light and creeping over to the dormered window. Tugging the blinds aside, she peered down. From this angle, the front steps were obscured by the jutting facade. He was probably still down there, biding his time, planning to make another attempt to get inside. He’d tried to break in. That was what triggered the alarm. Not Madison getting the code wrong. Not the cat on a midnight prowl. It was him, the man at the door. If he tried once, he could try again. She either needed to leave this crazy house or call the cops. But how could she leave when he was down there? He would see her come out. She should call the cops, then. But she should give Judge Conroy a heads-up before bringing the police to her home.
She dialed the judge’s phone.
Judge Conroy picked up on the first ring.
“I’m worried he’s still out there,” Madison said breathlessly.
“Can you see him?”
“No, I just feel it.”
“Did you turn off the lights?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Up in the au pair room. I’m going to call nine-one-one.”
“No. Madison, it’s not necessary. I’m sure he’s gone.”
“What if he isn’t? He had a gun. I saw the holster.”
“Don’t worry. He was giving me a hard time, but I read him the riot act. You heard.”
“What if he doesn’t listen?”
“He will. Trust me, I know him.”
Her mouth fell open. Until that moment, she’d been too preoccupied to focus on the nature of the judge’s relationship with the man at the door, but there it was. They were close. He’d called her Kathy. And she’d called him— Charlie.
Wait a minute. The gun, the windbreaker. The reference to “real police.” She knew suddenly who he was, who he had to be. And it made her sick to her stomach.
“He’s a cop, isn’t he?” she said. The cop from my brother’s case.