“I’ve been watching you snoop around my house for the last week.” Her words are slurred and her eyes are half closed. A puddle forms on the hardwood floor from the water dripping off her naked body, visible through her open robe.
This is bad. Very bad. She has caught me red-handed.
“It’s not what you think,” I say.
She sways and lets out a shrill laugh. “Of course it is. It’s exactly what I think it is.” Jenny lurches at me, her hands out as if she’s either going to grab me or strike me, but her foot gets tangled up in the sash hanging from her robe and she’s going down before I can catch her. Her head hits the floor with a loud crack and a thin river of blood runs from under her blond hair. She’s out cold.
“Oh shit,” I whisper, dropping down beside her. My fingers press against her neck to check for a pulse.
I call Matt again.
“I’ve got it,” I say as soon as he answers. “But the wife caught me. She’s drunk, tripped and fell. Her head is bleeding.”
“Is she dead?” he asks in a quiet voice.
“No. But she needs help. Should I call 911?”
“So she can tell the cops she caught you stealing from them?” Matt spits out. “Get the fuck out of there and bring the drive.”
“What about Miles?” While there is no love lost between Jenny and me, that little boy deserves better.
“Get out of there now! You can’t be caught there like this. Kingston doesn’t have shit to go on if you’re gone.” Matt screams so loud it echoes in the room. “Get your ass out of that house.”
And then the line goes dead.
I’m scared to touch her again. Can I leave her like this? Can I leave Miles? But if I stay, I could go to jail. She’ll tell them I was robbing them. They may even blame me for her fall. She’ll say I pushed her.
I pull the other phone from my pocket, the one Greg calls to check on Miles. The one that is only powered on once I step inside the Kingstons’ house.
“Hello,” Greg answers.
“There’s a problem. I came upstairs to tell Mrs. Kingston I have a family emergency and that I need to leave immediately but she’s unconscious on the floor. She must have fallen. Miles is asleep on the couch in the playroom. You need to come home. I have my own family emergency so I can’t stay.”
“Wait—”
But I’ve already ended the call. I drop the fake drive in the safe then close it before swinging the picture back in place. Miles is the only reason I’m risking myself like this.
Greg can call 911. He can come home and deal with this. I have to trust the fake name, the steps I’ve taken to hide my identity. I race down the stairs and peek in on Miles one last time. His little face is lost in sleep, and the origami swan I taught him to make, just like Mama taught me, is clutched in his tiny hand. He’ll be fine. His dad will be here soon. He’s not my problem.
I dart out of the back door, and creep along the side of the house until I’m on the street and jumping into the car Matt gave me to use for this job. As I’m exiting the gated neighborhood, an ambulance squeals past me followed by a cop car.
I keep my head down and drive the speed limit. Will they pull footage at the guard’s gate? Have a pic of me in this car? How soon before the cops start looking for me?
It takes ten minutes to get to AAA Bail Bonds. I was told to never come back here, but this is obviously not a normal situation.
Matt is pacing the street, waiting for me.
My door is ripped open before I come to a complete stop. “What the fuck took you so long?” He pulls me out of the car and into the building. We don’t stop until we get to his office.
“I got here as soon as I could,” I say as I hand him the drive and then place the phone I used for my calls with Greg on the desk. I don’t mention my call to him—the call I deleted from the log just before I powered it off, in case he checks.
I wonder if Miles woke up and found her before his dad got there.
No. I can’t think about him.
Matt has the drive in his palm, and he’s tapping away on his phone. He reads whatever’s there then flinches when his phone rings.
“Yes.” He looks at me, his eyes boring into mine, then passes me the phone.
I hesitate for just a second then take it from him.
“Hello,” I whisper.
“Give me the events of this afternoon. Do not leave anything out.” Mr. Smith’s disguised voice hides the anger his real voice would carry.
I tell him everything, including how I figured out the code to the safe. Everything except the call to Greg.