I nodded, ignoring my racing heart. “Yes,” I exhaled. “Until this is over.”
“And how long is that gonna be?” There was an edge mixed with worry to the question.
“I have no idea,” I answered honestly. “It’s open-ended, but if I can swing it, I plan to come in once a month to keep everything on track.” I hadn’t talked to Enzo about that, but as long as thedanger didn’t escalate, I was sure he wouldn’t have a problem with it.
Toni leaned back in her seat, arms folded over her chest, legs crossed at the knees, her gaze studying me a little too hard. “This is still dangerous?”
I nodded. “There is a looming threat,” I offered vaguely. “So far, nothing has come of it.”
“But it could,” she said instead of asking.
I nodded again.
“Serenity,” she sighed.
“I know,” I said, holding my hands up. “That’s why I had to take this job instead of anyone else.” That’s what I kept telling myself.
Toni thought about it for a long moment before she nodded and met my gaze again. “What do you need from me?”
My shoulders relaxed, and I realized I’d expected her to throw her hands up and tell me I was on my own. “I just need you to be careful, Toni. Really and extremely careful. If anything feels off, tell me about it. If people start asking questions they shouldn’t, tell me about it.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” She nodded again, slowly, before she sat up taller. “Actually, there is something. I thought it was weird, but then I figured I was just imagining things, but…” she said, and the rest of that statement trailed off.
“What?” I asked, my pulse ticking up to a full gallop.
“A couple came in about a week ago. They wanted to hire a nanny, but they were very vague about it and didn’t even bring the kid. They didn’t have a lot of details, and they never followed up.” Her red brows crinkled as she thought about it.
“That happens sometimes,” I said, though unease prickled at the base of my spine. Sure, we did have people who didn’t follow up, but given everything, this seemed important.
“Yeah, I know, but it just felt off. Then last week,” Toni continued, “a woman came in alone to apply as a nanny, and I swear it was the same woman.”
I stared at her. “You’re sure?”
“Not positive, but I’m pretty sure,” she answered and then snapped her fingers. “Hang on.” She exited my office and returned a minute later with two folders, setting them side by side on my desk.
I picked up one folder and then the other with cold, shaking hands. As I opened one folder, I was feeling pretty smug about keeping Enzo’s paperwork with me instead of inside the ENS offices. “Thank you, Toni.”
“Yeah, of course,” she said, still standing with her arms folded as she watched me closely. Too closely. “Are you okay, Serenity—I mean, really okay?”
“Yes,” I answered easily, but I realized it was a lie and corrected myself. “I know this is a lot to process, Toni—everything—but I am well aware of this situation, and I am committed to seeing it through for Mattie’s sake.” And maybe—just a little—for Enzo’s.
I finished off my checklist, which included payroll, printing checks, scheduling direct deposit payments, and new placement approvals. Muscle memory carried me through most of the tasks while my mind fixated on the couple and the nanny applicant. I didn’t have any concrete answers, only wild speculations, and by the time the day ended, I was a wreck and felt on the verge of an anxiety attack.
Enzo and Mattie were still inside the conference room, and I stood on the other side of the door, gripping the handle without moving.Just do it,I commanded myself before taking a deep breath to steel my emotions. And then I opened the door. Mattie was curled up asleep on one of the chairs from the lobby, and his father stared at me with the intensity of a man with demons.
“We need to talk.”
He gave one short nod, his gaze never leaving my face.
I laid out both folders on the table with the applications and photos of the couple and the nanny applicant. Then, in dramatic fashion, I laid two surveillance images Toni had retrieved on top. “This couple came in looking for a nanny, and then this woman applied to be a nanny.”
He studied all the images carefully, his face an unreadable mask. “That’s them,” he said, his voice cool and certain.
I thought so too, but hearing him confirm it made me feel better and less crazy. “The hikers, right?”
He nodded once. “That’s them.”
Anxiety bubbled inside my gut. “So they weren’t hikers.” It felt good to know my instincts weren’t wrong, but fear niggled that danger had been so close.
