CHAPTER THREE
The irony wasn't lost on Diana that after nearly ten years in prison, the first legitimate work she'd found was cleaning houses.
But "Diane Walsh" had excellent references, thanks to a carefully constructed identity that had taken her three months to establish after her release.
The Hendersons, who owned this pristine suburban home, had hired her without question when she'd answered their ad two weeks ago.
They traveled frequently for business and needed someone reliable to maintain their house while they were away.
It felt like an opportunity that the universe had weaved together, specifically for her.
What they didn't know was that Diana had specifically sought out employment opportunities in this particular neighborhood.
What they couldn't have guessed was that their house cleaner had spent months researching property records, studying satellite images, and timing the daily routines of the family next door.
Diana polished the window with methodical strokes, taking pride in leaving the glass spotless.
Prison had taught her patience and attention to detail, skills that served her well in her new profession.
She genuinely enjoyed the work, found satisfaction in transforming cluttered spaces into organized perfection.
It was honest labor, something she hadn't experienced since before Allen Goldman's testimony destroyed her life. She knew it wasn’t work that anyone would really want to do, but she was glad to be doing it.
Through the clean glass, she watched twenty-two-month-old Michael push his red toy truck around the base of the oak tree. Diana had been observing the family for two weeks now, documenting their patterns with the same thoroughness she'd once applied to her accounting work.
Kate typically spent Wednesday mornings on the deck when the weather was nice, either reading or working on her laptop.
Allen was usually inside during these sessions, handling household maintenance or preparing for his evening classes at the community college where he taught continuing education courses in business management.
Michael napped every day between two and four, giving Diana a window of opportunity to observe the house when both adults were inside and the child was asleep.
She'd noted that their security system was basic, probably installed when they first moved in together.
A simple alarm panel by the front door, motion sensors on the ground-floor windows, but nothing sophisticated.
The kind of system that would deter opportunistic burglars but wouldn't stop someone with patience and planning.
Diana wondered if federal agents didn't really spend a lot of money on security systems because they already felt confident in their ability to protect themselves and their homes.
Diana moved to the next window, spraying and wiping with the same careful attention.
The Hendersons' master bedroom offered an even better angle into Kate's yard, and Diana had taken to saving this room for last during her Tuesday cleaning sessions.
From here, she could see the sliding door that led from Kate's kitchen to the deck, the layout of their back porch, and the positioning of outdoor furniture that might provide cover for someone approaching the house after dark.
Kate had aged since Diana last saw her, the day Allen testified at Diana's trial.
Her dark hair showed threads of silver now, and there were lines around her eyes that spoke of the years that had passed.
But she still moved with the same confident precision that Diana remembered, still carried herself like someone accustomed to being in control of her environment.
Diana had followed news reports about Kate's return to FBI work, her high-profile cases, her surprising pregnancy, and subsequent retirement.
The media had dubbed Kate the "Miracle Mom" when Michael was born, playing up the human-interest angle of a woman giving birth in her late fifties.
Diana had watched those interviews from her prison cell, memorizing every detail about Kate's new life.
She'd also researched Allen extensively.
After his testimony sent her to prison, he'd continued working at the insurance company for another three years before transitioning to teaching.
He'd bought the house on Maple Street four years ago, during the period when Kate was apparently retired from FBI work.
Public records showed that he'd added Kate to the deed eighteen months ago, around the time Michael was born.
Suddenly, as she was cleaning, she saw a slight break in the monotony over on Kate’s back porch.
Even from this distance, Diana could tell it was a phone call.
She watched Kate reach to her right for her phone, sitting on the edge of the lawn chair she was occupying.
Kate's posture changed as she answered, becoming more alert, more focused.
She stood up from her chair and walked to the edge of the deck, looking out at Michael while she spoke.
Diana paused in her dusting, watching the conversation unfold.
Kate was clearly receiving information that interested her professionally.
Her free hand gestured as she spoke. After about five minutes, Kate ended the call and stood at the deck railing for another moment, apparently thinking through whatever she'd just learned.
Then Kate walked down into the yard, scooped up Michael from his position beside the toy truck, and headed toward the house.
Even from this distance, Diana could see the shift in Kate's demeanor.
Whatever the phone call had been about, it had activated something in Kate that had been dormant during her domestic afternoon.
Diana returned to her cleaning, but part of her attention remained focused on the house next door.
She'd spent enough time studying Kate's patterns to recognize when something had disrupted the normal routine.
The phone call had clearly been work-related, which meant Kate might be leaving the house soon for some kind of investigation.
This was exactly the kind of intelligence Diana had been gathering for weeks.
She needed to understand Kate's schedule, her commitments, her vulnerabilities.
The revenge she'd planned on Allen required perfect timing and complete knowledge of their lives.
Diana had learned patience during her years in prison, but she'd also learned that successful plans required meticulous preparation.
She moved to the Hendersons’ guest bedroom, which offered a different angle on Kate's property.
From here, she could see the driveway and front entrance, useful for monitoring comings and goings.
Diana had already documented the times Allen typically left for work, Kate's occasional trips to the grocery store, and the occasional jogs each of them took.
The house cleaning job was a perfect cover for her surveillance.
The Hendersons traveled at least twice a month, leaving Diana alone in the house for hours at a time.
She could observe without being observed, take notes without attracting attention.
To the neighborhood, she was simply another service worker, invisible and unmemorable.
Diana had crafted "Diane Walsh" carefully.
She'd gained fifteen pounds since her release, changed her hair color from auburn to brown, and adopted a slightly different style of dress.
She wore glasses now, clear lenses that altered the shape of her face just enough to avoid recognition.
Her voice was softer, her mannerisms more deferential.
She'd become the kind of woman people forgot five minutes after meeting her.
But underneath the careful disguise, Diana's anger burned with the same intensity it had maintained throughout her imprisonment.
Allen Goldman had destroyed her life with his testimony and had built a new, beautiful life with Kate Wise in the aftermath.
They had their perfect family, their comfortable house, their bright future together.
Diana had spent nearly ten years in a cell, watching her marriage dissolve, losing contact with her children, becoming a stranger to the life she'd once lived.
Now it was time to balance the scales.
Diana finished cleaning the guest bedroom and gathered her supplies.
She would return on Friday for the Hendersons' regular weekly cleaning, which would give her another opportunity to observe Kate's family.
By then, she might have more information about whatever work situation Kate had been discussing on the phone.
As she loaded her cleaning caddy into the back of her aging Honda Civic, Diana glanced once more at Kate's house. The afternoon sun was casting long shadows across their yard, and she could see movement through the kitchen window where Kate was presumably explaining her departure to Allen.
He’ll be there, all alone, she thought. You could just kill him now and be done with it.
It was tempting, yes. But it would be too quick.
Soon, Diana thought. Very soon… Allen and Kate would understand what it felt like to have everything they cared about taken away. And if all went to plan, Allen would have no idea who was responsible until the very last moment.