Starlight On Willow Lake

“I know, Mom,” Ruby said.

“The driveway’s a quarter mile long,” Cara said. “I ran the whole way.”

“How do you know it’s a quarter mile?” asked Ruby.

“Old lady Bellamy said.”

“You met her?” Faith glanced over at Cara. “What’s she like?”

“Cranky.”

“Cara—”

“You asked. So are you going to take the job?”

“We’ll see.”

“You always say that, too,” Ruby pointed out.

“Because we will see. I need to meet with Mrs. Bellamy—who, by the way, should never be called old lady Bellamy—and see if we’re a good match.”

“That guy already said you’re hired,” Cara pointed out. “I heard him.”

“The client is his mother, so she gets final say,” Faith explained. “Frankly, I’d pay them just for the chance to scrub this blood off me.”

“It’s really gross,” said Ruby. “But this place is like a castle,” she added softly, leaning forward in her seat. “If you take the job, do we get to live here?”

“That’s what the job description said—that it’s a live-in position.” When she had replied to the posting, Faith had been open about her situation. She had explained that she had two girls, and that the younger one had special needs. The reply, which had come from a woman named Brenda—“Assistant to Mr. Bellamy”—had stated that they would still like her to interview for the position. To Faith, that meant the Bellamys were either very open-minded or very desperate.

“I want to live here,” Ruby said, scanning the arched entrance at the end of the driveway.

“If we did, then we wouldn’t have to change schools,” Cara pointed out.

Faith caught the note of yearning in her elder daughter’s voice. She was just finishing her junior year at Avalon High School and longed to graduate with her friends. Since Dennis had died, they had moved at least six or seven times; Faith had lost count. It was rough on the girls, always being the new kid and having to start over at a new school every time their mom changed jobs.

Cara coped with the situation by adopting an edgy, rebellious attitude. She had a mouth on her that sometimes reminded Faith of Dennis—sarcastic, but never truly mean. Cara was a lot like her late father in other ways, too. She was scrappy and smart, cautious about whom she let in. Dennis’s doctors said he had outlived his prognosis by several years simply because he was such a tough guy, and Faith could see this trait in her elder daughter.

Ruby, by contrast, went the opposite direction, retreating into her books and toys, hiding behind a bashful facade. Even as a toddler, she’d been far more cautious and fearful than Cara ever was.

It would be nice to offer the girls a sense of security. From the looks of this place, security was assured. The compound looked as if it had sat here forever at the water’s edge. Large enough to billet a small army, it seemed like a lot of real estate for one woman.

That was Faith’s first clue to the high-maintenance quality of Alice Bellamy.

She parked in front of a multibay garage with an upper story that ran the entire length of the building. Mr. Bellamy’s car glided silently into one of the bays, and the door automatically rolled shut. A few seconds later, he joined them.

“Welcome to Casa Bellamy,” he said as they got out of the van. He’d removed his tie and opened his shirt, and the cuffs were rolled back, but he still looked decidedly uncomfortable in his blood-spattered clothes.

“This is Ruby,” said Faith, gesturing at the little girl.

“Hiya,” he said affably. “I’m Mason. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a mess.”

“That’s okay.” She pressed herself against Faith’s side. “Mom, you’re a mess, too.”

“And you’ve already met my other daughter, Cara.”

“I did. Between you and your mom, you saved that guy’s life.”

Cara merely stood back with her arms folded across her middle. She’d never been the type to be easily won.

“Tell you what,” said Mason. “We’ve got some major cleaning up to do.” He eyed her skirt and top, which were covered in blood, sweat, dirt and grass stains. It was her one decent job interview ensemble. She’d forgotten the ruined jacket at the scene of the accident.

“I have a change of clothes in the van,” she said.

“Okay, the girls can go inside for a snack or something while you and I use the showers in the pool house.”

There was a pool house. With showers. Definitely not Kansas anymore.

“You remember the way in?” he asked Cara.

She nodded.

“Tell Regina we’re back, everything’s going to be okay with the guy and that your mom and I will be in after we get cleaned up.”

“Sure. Okay. Come on, Ruby.”

Ruby towed her Gruffalo along. She clung to the threadbare plush toy in times of stress.

Faith grabbed a bag with a clean dress in it.

Mason briefly checked out the van. “This a paratransit vehicle?”

She nodded. “It’s pretty old, but the lift still works.” Noting his inquisitive expression, she said, “It hasn’t been used for paratransport in quite a while.”

“Is it for clients?” he asked.

“My late husband was in a wheelchair.”

“Oh. I’m... I see.”

She could sense him processing the information. People didn’t expect a woman in her midthirties to be a widow, so that always came as a surprise.

“He passed away six years ago,” she said.

“I’m sorry.” Awkward silence. No one ever knew what to say to that.

Faith gave a brisk nod. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

The pool house had separate showers, the space divided by weathered cedar boards in a louver pattern.