Susan let out a low groan at the bitter reminder. Because the other horrible thing that crouched at the back of her mind like some kind of evil praying mantis was the fact that her home had been invaded. A crazy person had violated the sanctity of their home. They’d stolen in under cover of night, gone into Elizabeth Ann’s nursery, and snatched her from her beautiful little crib.
Unable to resist, Susan tiptoed down the hallway and pushed open the door. She stepped into Elizabeth Ann’s room, fighting back tears now, and collapsed on the familiar pile of pillows and plush animals.
What had she been thinking? A two-thousand-dollar crib? Hand-painted bunnies capering across the walls? A fancy, high-tech baby monitor so she could sing Elizabeth Ann to sleep from practically any room in the house?
They should have put their money into better locks, an armed response security service, and a really nasty German shepherd. Screw the nanny cam. A lot of good that had done.
Twenty minutes went by with Susan lost in thought and deep regret. Then she pulled herself up and crept over to the crib. Reaching in, she picked up a plump black-and-white penguin. It had bright beady eyes and a little yellow felt beak, and it had been Elizabeth Ann’s favorite stuffed animal. As Susan cradled the fuzzy toy against herself, half humming a nursery rhyme, she heard a faint ringing sound.
Telephone?
She frowned, momentarily confused. And then it dawned on her that she was hearing the phone ring through the baby monitor. The monitor was switched on, able to broadcast back and forth from four different rooms in the house.
But who’s calling at this time of night? Maybe the police?
Her jitters returning in a rush, Susan leaned forward and cocked an ear at the baby monitor. And heard Richard say, “Now’s not a good time.”
Not a good time for what?
Then, “No, I’m not angry at you, Jilly. Of course not.”
Jilly? Jilly Hudson, our former nanny?
Susan decided that Jilly must have been seen the latest news report and called to offer support. Still . . . it seemed awfully late. She cranked up the volume control, but all she could hear was Richard saying, “Uh-huh, uh-huh.” Not very interesting. Then again, neither was Jilly.
She was about to turn away when she heard Richard’s soft laughter.
What? How can he be laughing at a time like this?
Then came the damning words.
“No, of course she doesn’t know,” Richard said. “Haven’t we always been discreet?” There were a few moments of silence and then Richard said, “Definitely not tomorrow, I’m totally jammed as you can imagine. But maybe I can pry myself away for an hour or two on Wednesday.” Jilly obviously responded to his suggestion because he chuckled again.
Susan felt the sudden pounding of blood in her ears. Her mouth had gone bone dry, and there was the faint taste of bile at the back of her throat.
Richard and Jilly? Oh my God!
Susan stared icily at one of the painted dancing bunnies on the nursery room wall. And for the first time in two days, she felt a cold and rational intensity steal its way through her. She clenched her jaw in a bitter smile. She was suddenly dry-eyed as the cobwebs began to clear.
Now Susan knew exactly what she was going to do.
Tiptoeing silently down the hallway to their bedroom, she found her Gucci bag and pulled out her cell phone.
Before Richard’s last laugh died on his lips, Susan was dialing the police.
16
CRAP! Why won’t this stupid thing stay on? Why won’t this stinkin’ tape hold? Why didn’t we get some decent diapers?”
It was late at night and Shake was feeling tired, angry, and completely overwhelmed as she fussed with the baby and muttered to herself. All day long her stomach had been painfully bloated and the skin above her ankles puffy and swollen like donuts. There was a new sensation, too, a gnawing, stabbing pain deep within her gut that hadn’t been there before. The pain made it impossible for her to concentrate or even eat and she had a sickening feeling that her baby might be arriving sometime soon.
And here she was, up late at night, getting zero to no rest, trying to change yet another diaper on a kid she didn’t even know.
This wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d always thought babies were mostly pink wiggles and soft coos, adorable little bundles of joy. But this screaming, squalling, demanding, red-faced thing was way more than she’d ever bargained for. Even the diapers were a disappointment. The ones she’d wanted in the grocery store had cute little pictures of puppies and baby ducks on the labels. This crappy brand had nothing—just a series of legal disclaimers and the word NEWBORN on a stupid white box.
Marjorie had told her that babies were easy—“Shit, sleep, and eat. It’s not rocket science,” she had said.
But to Shake, it seemed a lot more complicated. In fact, everything in her life had gotten pretty dang twisted up lately. And here she was, alone, pregnant, and in pain, confined to a dilapidated house way out in the middle of nowhere.