“Oh, my God. Dez!”
“Babe, you just dropped the kids off at what’s-his-face’s house. He’s fine.”
“I know that, but it could have been... What if it was... God, what happened?”
“Everyone is fine. It was a prank—like a false threat. Someone left a box—a wrapped package with a kitchen timer inside—in the middle of the hallway.”
“Why? Who?” I sit back down, my mind trying to wrap around what the hell is happening. Bombs?Anotherbomb, for Christ’s sake. It’s too much.
“I don’t know any more than that, really. They say there was a note taped on it that said,Bang. You’re dead.”
“Jesus!”
“Yeah.”
“There are cameras in the halls, though.”
“Well, a few, but they only pick up some main traffic areas. There was nothing caught on security cam from what I’m told.”
“And whodidtell you all this?”
“The school. They’re calling all the parents. Said they lefta message for you. They’re trying to get ahead of it before it ends up on the news and they’re raked through the coals fornot having a clue.”
“Right,” I say. “God, what’s the world coming to?”
We sit for a little while and he pretends not to be distracted by the game on the TV, but I don’t care. Our date night at home is no longer on my mind. I drain my glass of wine, pour a second, and kiss him on the cheek before announcing I’m headed to take a hot bath and change.
The sun begins to sink and paints purple and crimson watercolor strokes across the horizon as I lie in the hot water and gaze out the picture window. I think about my kids in the slimy grips of Tia fucking Hainsley—how she micro-manipulates them, puts bugs in their ears attacking my character in a carefully crafted way so they won’t know that’s what she’s doing. I blow out a hard breath and pick up my wineglass from the side of the tub and tell myself to let it go for the rest of the night. Just let it go.
When I finish and exit the master bath, drying my wet hair with a towel and slipping my feet into UGG slippers, I notice something odd. The locked bedroom safe is open, and the gun case we keep inside is lying on the bed—and the gun is missing. I feel my heart skip a beat. I rush out to the deck, whipping open the door and staring at Carson.
“Uhhh. Anything you wanna tell me?” I say. He clicks off the game, saying something about it being a blowout anyway, whatever that means. I see the gun on the coffee table in front of him.
“Was there an intruder when I was in the bath or something?” I say, sarcastically gesturing around. “What the hell?”
“Well, with everything going on, I think it’s time you at least learn to protect yourself. What would you do if therewasan intruder?”
I sit in the armchair across from him and set my empty glass on the table. He fills it. Two is usually my limit but I’m riddled with anxiety and so I take it to calm my nerves.
“Bomb threats. You want me to learn to use the stupid gun against a bomb? Solid plan,” I say.
“Andi. We don’t really know what’s going on, do we?”
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“No,” he says, but I can see a little flash in his eye that tells me differently. One thing I fell in love with, after the whole Ray disaster, was Carson’s honesty and seeming inability to effectively lie about anything without giving it away. I appreciate this quality, but not right now.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s nothing. I don’t know.”
“What?”
“The other day, I... I don’t know. I thought I saw someone. Like a figure. I didn’t want to worry you for no reason. Probably nothing.”
“What do you mean? Where?” I ask, because we live on the lakefront but behind us is fifty acres of wooded land, so a figure usually means a rustle in the trees from an animal or something innocuous.
“I don’t know—just out in the woods. It looked like a guy standing there, staring. I don’t know if it was, but I think that’s what I saw. I...”
