to the front door and even though he only had enough seat belts for—”
“What is happening here?” A woman’s voice, as cold and clear as a bell calls from behind us. I jump, and right before I turn around, I see the little girl’s eyes nearly bug out of her head with fear before she ducks behind her mother’s legs. The little boy’s eyes narrow, and he steps in front of his mother and his sister.
“Uh, hi,” I say and wave at the redheaded, Jessica Rabbit lookalike, down to the red dress wrapped around her impossibly exaggerated curves and bright red lipstick. She stares down at me with hostile eyes and frowns.
“Who are you?” she asks through her pinched lips.
“I’m Confidence Ryan,” I say and try not to sound like I want to piss in my pants.
“I don’t care what your name is, girl. I want to know what you and this ragtag mob of interlopers is doing standing in my foyer?” she shouts and the little girl starts to cry.
I let go of Cass completely and walk toward her. “I don’t know who you are, and I’m sorry that you’re walking into an unexpected scene, but we are all guests of Hayes—" I start.
“Hayes?” she asks like she has no clue who that is.
“Yes, Hayes.” I cross my arms over my chest and eye her suspiciously. “Who are you?” I snap at her.
“I am Mrs. Eliza Rivers and this, you little guttersnipe, is my house,” she responds haughtily. Then, she pulls a small pearl handled revolver out of her purse and points it squarely at my chest in a grip that tells me she knows how to hold a gun, but no idea how to aim it. I don’t move, but my heart is sprinting like a hare running from a hunter. I stare at her, beyond shocked.
Behind me, pandemonium breaks out. I can’t hear anyone clearly, but they’re all shouting. The children are both screaming. Cass grabs my elbow and tugs me backward.
“TB, let’s go,” she says, her voice a desperate whine.
“Go where?” I shake her loose. I take a step closer to the woman pointing her gun at me and look her square in the face. “This is not your house, and it hasn’t been for a long time. I am Hayes’s guest. So are these people, including the children you’re pointing a weapon at.”
Her expression falters briefly and then she tightens her grip on the butt of her gun. “How do I know what you’re saying is true? Where is Hayes?” she asks, her voice slightly fretful. I want to turn around and assure the people behind me that everything will be okay. That she’s about as harmless as a fly. But I don’t dare take my eyes off her. Because she is actually very dangerous. Especially with her clear lack of practice.
“He’s parking. He’ll be right in. Please, put the gun down; you’re scaring the children,” I say in a voice that I hope is deferential and conciliatory.
“Well, that’s what they get for scaring me,” she says and I recoil at her callousness.
“You are a monster,” I gasp before I can think better of it.
“You bet your ass, I am,” she says jauntily.
“Eliza, what’s going on?” Poppy’s voice sounds from over my shoulder, and I still don’t dare turn around but sigh in relief that someone who can vouch for me has finally arrived.
“I’ve told you to address me properly in front of guests, Poppy,” she snaps. “This girl says she’s Hayes’s guest along with all of those people. I know nothing of it, so I’m exercising my right to stand my ground,” Eliza explains as if it makes perfect sense.
“Do you pull guns on every unexpected guest in your home, Mrs. Rivers?” This comes from Cass’s father who hasn’t said a word since they arrived.
“No. Only the ones who very clearly don’t belong,” she returns.
“El—Mrs. Rivers,” Poppy interjects and rushes past me to stand in front of her on the stairs. “You knew Ms. Ryan was visiting. I informed you that Mr. Rivers was bringing back guests to stay for the night because of the flooding,” she says. She stands right in front of the gun and puts a hand on it.
“Poppy, be careful,” I call to her.
“It isn’t loaded,” she calls back to me without turning around.
“What? Are you kidding me?” I yell and start for the stairs, too.
“Why did you tell her that? You idiot!” Eliza shouts. Poppy’s yelp of pain is