ringed an otherwise bald head, and in the middle of his flushed, frown-lined face was a nose the color of cherries.
“Who are you?” he barked in a similarly accented voice, though his wasn’t nearly as thick as the woman’s. “What do you want?”
I frowned. “Well, I was just telling that young woman that I’m the owner of this house. I wasn’t aware there were tenants in it right now. I’d like to see your lease, if you have it.”
“Owner? No, you’re not the owner.”
I sighed impatiently. “Actually, sir, I am. I’d also like to take a look around to assess the state of the house and property. It looks like it’s been neglected severely while I’ve been away—”
“You are not allowed to be here,” the man snapped. “Twenty-four hours’ notice. Massachusetts state law.”
He started to shut the door in my face, and against my better judgement, I pressed both hands against it to keep it from shutting entirely.
“Excuse me!” I demanded. “That law only applies to legal tenants, and as far as I know, this house hasn’t been rented at all.”
“You are Mrs. Gardner?” he asked.
I nodded, then whipped out my wallet and flashed my driver’s license at him. “My name is Nina de Vries Gardner, yes.”
He looked at the ID, then back at me. “You need to enter? Twenty-four hours. Now, go away.”
But just as the door was closing, the man stepped aside, revealing one of the girls on the couch. She looked at me with a wide-eyed look that could only mean one thing: Help.
“Who is in here?” I asked, pushing the door back open. “And may I ask how many people you have on the premises? The property is only zoned for five residents.”
I was making things up as I spoke. Anything to open the door. Anything to see a bit more, to help that poor girl or anyone else here who might need it.
“Lady,” said the man. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re going to want to leave. Now.” He pulled up his shirt and revealed the butt end of a revolver that had been wedged between a furry belly and his jeans.
I stepped back as though I’d actually been pushed. “Oh. Oh, yes. I—I suppose I should.”
“And tell Calvin we deal with him only, you got that? No more blondes. No more. You got that?”
Flustered, I nodded. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”
The door slammed shut, and somehow I made my way back to my car, shaken through to my bones. Somehow, I got back in to the driver’s seat, and though I knew I should leave immediately, I still took my time, checking my mirrors, readjusting the back of my seat. I looked a few times toward the house, feeling like someone was watching me through the tatty curtains, but nothing moved.
Who was the man, and how did he know my husband? Not to mention another blonde?
I pulled out my phone, drifting my thumb over the numbers 9-1-1. The blank, terrified looks of the women in that room stayed with me even when I shut my eyes. I knew that look. I had seen it in my own reflection too many times.
I also knew what came after. My cheeks tingled with the memory of those blows. My knees and elbows ached with the force of countless contact against walls, armoires, tables, chairs. If I called the police now and this man reported seeing me at the house, I didn’t even want to think about what Calvin’s response would be for my meddling.
Skylar’s mention of privacy and security echoed in the back of my mind. She had seemed to think it was a necessity in my current situation, and for the first time, I couldn’t help but agree. A part of me wanted desperately to take her up on her offer. It would be an elegant solution. But the reality too was that I was nowhere near close to being able to leave. Not now, anyway. I didn’t even have a place to live.
I dropped my phone back in my purse. Good lord. What was I going to do?
I considered all these questions as I drove around getting the last few things needed before Olivia went to school. By the time I had a car full of school supplies, weekend clothes, and anything else I could imagine she’d need, I had only come to one conclusion: until I managed to find a satisfactory home somewhere between Andover and Wellesley, I’d have to be