Tiptoeing to the top of the stairs, I edged my way around the bannister to lean out over empty space and identify who’d arrived on the scene.
A light came on below, momentarily illuminating my face, and I tucked back a step in case whoever turned it on also looked up the stairs. I bumped into Chava, who’d crept up behind me on those catlike, panther paws of hers. At least we both managed not to make any noise. I gave her a gentle shove backward and gestured for her to stay behind me.
For once, she didn’t argue.
The thud of footsteps crossing the hardwood floors was followed by deadened thumps on the carpeted section of the dining room. We could track their progress toward the tiles in the kitchen. They sounded heavy, even on the carpet, and I would bet good money the feet making them were attached to Mr. Hallings, not the delicate Kendra, or the missing maid, unless she was built like Attila the Hun. The movement into the kitchen was soon followed by the clinking of glasses, leading me to believe Mr. Hallings was now making himself an after-work cocktail. I fought the compulsion to join him in a dirty martini to hash over the Kendra situation.
“Crap,” I said to Chava instead. “He must have been in the car while we were talking. Not at the dealership, miles away.”
“Couldn’t you tell from the sound of the call?”
“I didn’t hear any background noise. He must have been using one of those Bluetooth things. Stupid modern technology.”
“Don’t deride modern technology …” Chava started to say, her anxiety at being caught apparently short-lived.
“Now is not the time,” I said, cutting her off before she could extol the virtues of my buying her a new cellphone.
I heard more footsteps coming our way.
Grabbing Chava, I pulled her down the hallway toward the rooms we hadn’t been into yet. Or at least, I hadn’t. Who knew what she had gotten into already? I guessed his next stop would be the master bedroom to change into something more comfortable, and I didn’t think his finding us huddled up in his closet would make anyone happy.
Least of all me.
I pushed Chava in front of me down the hall, making for the door farthest from the master bedroom. Stepping quietly into the room, I carefully pulled the door shut far enough to appear closed without activating the actual click of the tumbler. I held my breath as I waited to see if I’d misjudged what room he’d go into. Enough faint light came through the windows behind us for me to see this room had also been emptied. No place to hide if Hallings came in for some reason. I hoped he hadn’t heard any noise that would make him investigate.
A moment later I heard the sound of a TV come on from down the hall. I opened the door again and peeked toward the master bedroom. Light seeped under the door onto the carpeted hall, and I could hear the sound of water running.
“What’s he doing?” Chava said with her mouth tucked up close to my shoulder. I caught the whiff of a menthol cigarette. That must have kept her occupied for the few minutes it took before she decided to follow me behind the house.
“You were smoking,” I said, causing her to back away from me a step.
“Is that really what you want to talk about right now?” Chava said in an urgent whisper, no doubt hoping to distract me from her dirty habit. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
“Oh, now you’re worried?” It was a struggle to keep my voice a whisper when I wanted to throttle her for getting us into this situation to begin with.
“I get it, Edwina. You’re a little PO’d right now. But let’s focus. What is he doing?”
“I think he’s taking a shower.”
“So now’s a good time to run?”
Without bothering to respond, I edged the door open and moved out into the hall. I could hear Chava’s breathing behind me. Her adrenaline was no doubt pumping and her heart racing like mine—though she was also juiced up by the recent nicotine hit. I had the sense that she was more excited than afraid. This was the most fun she’d had since she left Vegas. She wasn’t the one who could lose her PI license. I didn’t want to remind her that Deirdre had been killed, Kendra was AWOL, and our little adventure might upset the individual who had made those things happen.
Slinking past the master bedroom, I could see that the door to the bathroom stood open without being able to see inside. Chava and I raced down the stairs together toward the front door. I hoped we weren’t facing any nasty surprises, such as the door required a key to open from the inside. I was relieved to discover the security chain hung loose and the only thing between us and freedom was a bolt I could unlock with the twist of a wrist and a locking door handle I could reengage behind us. Hallings might notice the deadbolt wasn’t locked, but I hoped he’d chalk it up to forgetting to turn it himself. Maybe he’d have a few more cocktails before he turned in for the night and wouldn’t remember tomorrow morning whether he did or didn’t fully lock the door.
I paused to listen one more time for the sound of anyone coming down the stairs; I didn’t want to be seen running across the front driveway if I could help it. Chava got around me and had her hand stretched out to reach for the door handle when I noticed the light on the alarm panel.
“Stop!” I said, trying to balance urgency with volume. Even though I assumed Hallings was still in the shower, I didn’t want to take any chances.
“What?” Chava said. “Now’s our chance.”
“The alarm has been set.” I pointed. “Look.”
Chava looked at the panel where a bright green glow lit up the “armed” button. “Shit,” she said. “Now what?”
At just that moment I heard the sound of the water being turned off. Couldn’t the man take a longer shower? He’d barely had time to get the road dust off. Even if we had the time to escape before he could get downstairs, I still didn’t know if his security system included video. I didn’t want to signal he’d had an intruder and give him reason to watch the tape.
“Now, we hide,” I said grabbing Chava’s hand and heading to the left. It seemed most likely Hallings would go back down to the kitchen to make something to eat, so any other room felt safer than that direction. I moved through the open floor plan, toward a door on the far wall. Opening it, I shoved Chava inside and followed after her, stumbling down into the sunken room before turning to pull the door almost all the way closed behind us. The faint light from outside illuminated the room enough to make out that all the furniture appeared to be in place: a desk, computer, and shelves of books, leading me to believe we’d come into a home office he hadn’t disassembled yet like he had the rest of the house.
“Think he’ll come in here?” Chava said. “Should we find something to defend ourselves with?”
“Let’s hope he’s done working for the day. Now hush, I want to try to hear what he’s doing.” I leaned against the crack in the door and listened for movement. After a few long moments of silence, I heard footsteps again. The carpeted stairs had deadened the sound of his feet, and I hadn’t heard the creak, but I did hear his first step on the ground floor. I tracked his movement back into the kitchen, followed by the sound of the refrigerator door opening.
Turning around, I started to tell Chava we were safe for the moment when I heard a click. She had turned on a green shaded banker’s lamp sitting atop a file cabinet.
“What the hell are you doing now?” I pulled the door completely closed to keep the light from showing through.
“Looking in his files,” Chava said as if we had all the time in the world to riffle through the man’s drawers.
“Stop that! And turn that light off.”
“Isn’t he in the kitchen? How could he see in here from there?”
“He is for now, but what if he comes this way?”
“Then stand guard.”
Arguing with her was clearly harder than letting her do what she was already doing. I still needed to figure out how to get us out without tripping the alarm, so I stood at the door to take a moment to think.
From the sound of pots and pans banging against each other, followed by chopping, Hallings had started to cook dinner. I figured we had at least an hour before we had to worry about him coming into this room. Hearing a click, ping, whirring sound, I turned around again to find Chava sitting at his computer.
“Now what?” I said crossing over to her.
“I thought I’d take a look at his financials.”
“His financials? Who are you, Nancy Drew?”
“It’s always about money, right?”
“What’s always about money?”
“Missing wives, disappearing valuables, dead mistresses. Maybe Hallings is a degenerate gambler and someone kidnapped his wife to get him to pay back what he owes.”
“And meanwhile let her pack up whatever she wanted to bring along with her?”
“Just because there wasn’t a sign of a struggle doesn’t mean a struggle didn’t happen. What if Hallings cleaned up the mess and Kendra really did fight off her kidnapper? Or …” Chava paused for dramatic effect, “Hallings killed her and loaded her up in a suitcase, which he disposed of, so he could later say she ran off.”
There was a visual I didn’t need planted in my brain.
“Just be quick about it,” I said. “I’m going to try to see if I can find sensors in the windows. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the alarm is only triggered by the doors.”
Scooting over to the windows, I pulled a penlight out of my pocket and started going over the frame inch by inch. It didn’t take me long to find a wire clearly attached to a sensor guaranteed to start the alarm screeching the moment I cracked one open. I wasn’t even sure the window would open far enough for us to climb out, and on top of that, we’d have to deal with the screen and the shrubbery. Maybe we should just bolt out the front door—the alarm be damned. If we waited until Hallings fell asleep, we would be long gone before he got out of bed to chase us. I’d just have to hope the camera was live feed only.
Chava bent close to the computer screen, reading intently.
“What did you find?” I asked, moving over to stand behind her.
“That it sucks not having my reading glasses with me.”
“We are in a bit of a bind here,” I said, “thanks to you, in case you’ve forgotten. You could take this a little more seriously. Breaking and entering is a felony, by the way. I could lose my license.”
“Not if we don’t steal anything; then it’s just trespassing.”
“You are not a lawyer. You don’t know—”
“Hallings is broke,” Chava said, cutting off my indignation.
“What?”
“Hallings is broke. I’ve gotten into his bank records. He’s overdrawn. His credit cards are maxed out. He’s broke. The missing furniture? All returned to the stores where they were purchased.”
“I wonder where his money is going?” I mused out loud.
“His credit cards also show him visiting the Samish Valley Casino,” Chava said, “but the charges are just for food and drinks.”
“What does that tell you?” I asked, knowing virtually nothing about the gambling world.
“He’s probably gambling with cash,” my mother said. “He might have been in private poker games.” There was lust in her voice. “It would be enlightening to know if any heavy hitters are in town.”
“You could find that out?” I asked, though I could already guess the answer.
“I could make a few calls.”
“Well, that could be interesting,” I said, not quite wanting Chava to know I needed her help.
And apparently it was going to get even more interesting, because just as I said that, I heard footsteps coming our way.