the consequences. At best, I would be seen as an accomplice to a crime or done in for tax evasion, which could get me into even more trouble, and then they’d take Cliffside away from me. Because let’s face it, no innocent person has eight million dollars buried in their backyard. And at worst, word would get out, and Juan’s VIP client’s client would hunt me down.
Still, even keeping my secret, that buried money might as well have been a corpse for all the worry and paranoia it caused me.
I hadn’t wagered the guilt would weigh me down so heavily. That blood-money guilt festered inside my gut like toxic, scarlet fungus slowly poisoning me. I’d made a choice. And I had protected that choice. And if Juan was worth killing, wouldn’t I be next? The drone flying over, the text. The note with the roses. Everything had me fearing for my life. But never so much as now, the triplets being the biggest threat of all. The irony of it. The irony that having them live with me had made me feel safer!
The sound of footsteps snapped me away from my thoughts. Dan and Kate. They’d switched off the TV. Fear surged through me anew, that they’d swoop into my bedroom and find me gone.
“I’m so out of it, man, I’m hitting the hay.” Dan.
“Better check she’s still asleep,” Kate said.
“You do it, dude, I’m beat.” Dan slammed the door to his bedroom. Kate’s heavy tread clunked its way along the corridor. In my mind’s eye I had her switch on the light, rip the bedclothes away and scream blue murder when she found the pillows stuffed in the shape of my torso. Silence. I crouched in my corner by the washing machine, praying for mercy, for my freedom. The minutes ticked by; at least it felt like minutes. Then I heard a key turn and the door click open. A beat of silence, except my own blood pounding in my ears. Then the key turned again. Kate locking “me” in. She stomped off to her room. The door clicked closed. But Jen? Where was she? She tended to move about the house barefoot. Was she in her room, asleep? I didn’t trust her, despite her small efforts to show herself less of a monster than the other two.
I didn’t dare move. Not yet. My head hammered to the beat of my heart. How long until they all fell asleep? My instinct told me to wait. Stay calm. Don’t rush. I couldn’t blow my only opportunity.
The door creaked. Terror squeezed me by the throat as the door inched open, but then I heard the tap, tap of Beanie’s little paws, his claws clicking on the tiles. He sniffed me out immediately.
I pulled him close. “Ssh.” His ears cocked and he was off again. Jen wandering around the house? She was a bit of a night owl, Jen was.
I waited. Thirsty and dizzy from dehydration, but too scared to even take a swig of water from the sink in case I made a noise. I heard Jen talking softly. To whom? Beanie? On the phone? Finally, I heard the click of her bedroom door closing.
I counted to a hundred.
Time to leave.
I padded on my silent journey, barefoot along the corridor, then up the stairs to the front door. The key. I doubled back towards the kitchen. Beanie rustled about in his basket, alerted, and followed me, ears cocked with curiosity, but thank God he didn’t bark. I fumbled around in the dark until I found the napkin drawer. I fished out the key and shuffled barefoot to the front door, with one hand holding my pounding head. I turned the key gently, terrified it wouldn’t work, that the triplets might have changed the lock. But it did work. Beanie darted out the door ahead of me. I closed it as silently as I could. Locked it again, wincing with every tiny sound.
Outside, I squinted through the darkness until my eyes adjusted. I was wearing nothing but my pajamas, so the cold braced me.
I have to escape from my own home.
My Land Rover was like a beacon. The interior light was on. For a second I thought I saw Kate sitting in the front seat, and I froze, but it was just the headrest. The car door wasn’t locked, and Beanie leapt over the driver seat into the back, his tail wagging and barks piercing the crisp dawn atmosphere.