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She was frustrated, but when Amelia disclosed she had grandchildren in Seattle, her placement with a recent signup at the nanny agency saw her practically skipping to the ticket booth to purchase a one-way ticket to Kirkland.
The rest of my ruse was relatively simple.
Well, it would have been if Brodie hadn’t been so opposed to a young nanny.
Hillary’s full head of gray hair, her wrinkled face, and her aged body should have hinted at Brodie’s dislike of a young placement in his house, but I figured his comment—that he had to accept a placement from across the country because he’d gone through every local nanny—as he walked through the courtyard Agent Macy Machini had taken me to for a breather was because he overstepped the mark with his prior nannies.
I’d had no clue he only hired nannies older than dirt.
I remember the reason for my near coronary when the cordless landline phone on Brodie’s desk commences ringing again a second after it stops.
“Hello,” I answer, my voice aged.
It is almost nine, so I doubt the nanny agency is calling now, but I need to be cautious. I don’t want anyone spilling the beans to Brodie before I do.
“Henley?”
Since the voice is echoing and surrounded by sirens, I continue with my ruse that I’m ancient. “Did you say Hillary?”
“It’s Brodie.”
I breathe out in relief. “Hey. Ah…” I can’t have this conversation over the phone. I need to tell him in person. “Lucy is sleeping peacefully.”
His sigh matches the one I released when he announced himself. “And Thane?”
“MIA,” I answer before scanning the time on Brodie’s laptop. Thane should have arrived thirty minutes ago. “Did you ask him to stay outside?”
I move closer to the lace curtain covering a window that faces the front of his property. His house has a long frontage, so there’s plenty of room for Thane to park behind Brodie’s truck, though it appears he went a different route today.
“I think his car is parked across the street. Do you want me to check? He might—”
I stop talking when Brodie shouts, “Don’t go outside!”
“Okay.” I step back from the window, frightened by the fear in his voice. “After turning off the lights, I need you to get Lucy and go to the basement.” Even though he can’t see me, I nod when he asks, “Do you remember the wine cellar I showed you?” He must hear my head’s whooshes. “It’s not a wine cellar. It’s a panic room. The lock code is Lucy’s birthdate.” It’s hard to hear him over my swallows. “Take Lucy in there and close the door. You can’t come out for anyone, okay?”
I continue nodding while climbing the stairs two at a time.
Our sneaking around the past week pays dividends when I make it to Lucy’s room without bumping into a single object.
“It’s okay, honey,” I whisper to Lucy when she grumbles about me lifting her into my arms. “We need to go on an adventure, but it’s okay if you want to stay asleep. Rest your head on my shoulder.”
“Mr. Bunny,” she murmurs, reaching for her stuffed rabbit on her bed.
While juggling the cordless landline between my shoulder and ear, I scoop up Mr. Bunny and stuff it between Lucy and me before heading back toward the pitch-black hallway.
As I walk through Lucy’s bedroom door, I freeze.
A creak sounds from downstairs. It is closely followed by a grumble.
“Brodie?” I murmur, my voice as fearful as his breaths but barely a whisper.
“Yeah?”
I have to force my reply past the lump in my throat. “There’s someone downstairs. I heard a creak.” I step back from the opening of the stairwell in just enough time. The shadow at the bottom cranks his head up a second after I hide Lucy and me in the blackness of the dark hallway. “He’s at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Go to the furthest room from him and lock yourself inside. Help is on the way.” Brodie’s voice is surprisingly calm for how shaky his breaths are. I realize why when he murmurs, “Keep as calm as possible for Lucy. She’ll think you’re playing hide-and-seek if she doesn’t spot your fear.”
Again, I nod before cranking my head to the stairs.
I recognize the next set of creaks.
“He’s climbing the stairs.”
I couldn’t be more scared until the mocking call of a stranger jingles in my ear. “Henley… come out come out wherever you are.” His voice is chilling, and it flashes up memories of the first time I left Beau. He tried to make out it wasn’t him who spiked my drink, but he was so paranoid about me associating with anyone who wasn’t him that he never let me leave his side even while supplying my drinks.
This voice doesn’t belong to Beau, though. It’s too deep and manly.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay,” I promise Lucy as I stuff her into the freestanding closet in my room. “We’re just hiding in here, so Uncle Thane won’t find us. You don’t want to lose, do you?”
