better, all I could think about was Kate and Dan and what evil new plan they were hatching. I bet they guessed I was here at Pippa’s. Maybe Jen had admitted to calling Pippa, to come and rescue me. I kept waiting for the doorbell to ring—they’d have means of finding out where she lived. Beanie was here, and I expected them to demand him back. The door was firmly locked, but every time I heard the wind rustle a tree branch, or a car drive by, my heart hammered. Each time I made up my mind to call the police, a voice inside me told me to deal with the triplets on my own terms.
I’d been here a week.
Not a word. Their silence scared me.
I’d been dissecting possibilities of what to do with them, over and over in my mind. I felt so much stronger and had put on a little weight, and my eyes were clear, the black circles almost gone, the withdrawals a thing of the past.
I was ready. I didn’t just want them out of my house.
I wanted to even the score.
But how, exactly, still eluded me. Call the police and let them escort me to Cliffside and kick the triplets out? A possibility. Although what would I tell the authorities? That I’d allowed three wayward youngsters to stay at my house full-time, trusted them with my credit card, lent them my car, let them move in, hook, line, and sinker, and now I was unhappy about it? The authorities would want specifics. Had I been physically threatened? Not that I could prove. It would be their word against mine, even with my bashed-up ankle. Had they stolen from me? Not technically. Had they destroyed any of my property? No. The opposite, they’d helped me fix things. Where was my proof? The sodden piece of paper with my forged will would have disintegrated on Cliffside’s driveway in the rain. The Trojan pills flushed down the toilet, no doubt. The triplets would tell them how they’d been looking after me, cooking for me, doing my shopping. Abseiling from dangerous heights, uninsured, to clean my windows. Working for free, in fact. If I told the police the story about them locking me up, I had no proof whatsoever. And if Pippa acted as my witness, the truth about my dependence on drugs and alcohol would be blown open—it would look even worse. In the eyes of the law, Cliffside was the triplets’ residence. I’d need to give them thirty days’ notice. Any law enforcement officer would say it was a civil matter, and they couldn’t get involved.
They were no fools. They had established themselves at Cliffside as permanent tenants, despite the fact they had no lease. Kate’s words ricocheted in my mind: “This is our home. Our tax returns get sent to this address, we’re registered to vote at this address, we get our mail here.” Smart. They had established legal rights. Getting them to leave was not something I could do overnight. Not via the legal route, anyway.
A person did not have to be listed on a formal lease to gain protection under tenancy laws. Worse, the triplets could even gain protection by having established residency at Cliffside. They had no other home. They were orphans. Even if I’d offered to buy them an apartment, I knew they’d never budge.
As I ran my lawyerish thoughts through the legal process, a chill sliced along the ridges of my backbone like a razor blade. Getting them out quickly would be impossible. When a homeowner wishes to remove a guest, but that person can no longer be considered a “transient guest,” formal eviction procedures have to be followed. Law enforcement personnel would only be able to remove transient guests from a dwelling by force. The triplets were not transient; they had been at Cliffside for months and would be able to prove it. Even moving in a pet showed permanent residency. Beanie’s papers were registered at Cliffside!
The eviction process would be a hassle. First, I’d need to serve them Notice to Quit. Next, I’d have to serve up Summons and Complaints. They’d have to appear in court. No chance. Next would come a motion for judgment for failure to appear, and an endorsed copy of the Notice to Quit with the court clerk. The court would then enter a judgment against the tenants and issue an order to vacate. The triplets would dress themselves up as the perfect victims, and