Chapter Eleven
O’Connor
The noise of a party is the perfect cover to get inside the mansion without being noticed. Sticking to the shadows along the outer rooms that aren’t in use, I can get close enough to get a bug in the other office.
As easy as it would be to eliminate two corrupt people, getting all the players involved too makes more of a difference.
I slip inside the parlor that is across the hall from Merrill Scott’s office, and wait for my opportunity. She didn’t opt for a room with a balcony like Edmund, and that’s made my task significantly more difficult.
I’ll be exposed once I enter the hallway. It’s brightly lit and right around the corner from the party, so I need to be sure I’m alone.
I stand motionless for more than five minutes, letting the sounds of voices ebb and flow past the hall. No one has come down this far; most guests probably wouldn’t dare, but I need to be sure.
I crack the door that leads into the hallway, scan my surroundings, and coast to the other side silently with my lock pick in my hand. As suspected, the office door is locked, but nothing I can’t crack easily.
I’m encapsulated in darkness and behind a closed door again within seconds.
I don’t turn on any lights; I’ve grown accustomed to navigating through moonlight, and there is ample of that streaming through the large picture window.
Merrill Scott’s office is in pristine condition. Not a paper out of place, or a speck of dust on any surface. There is a lone desk in the middle of the room with one monitor atop it.
I know enough about computers to insert a bug within the mainframe that won’t be detected and will read the files once she logs back in.
The hard part will be breaking back in later to retrieve it.
Another bug goes in the bookcase along the far wall, hidden within the decorative plants.
Tonight’s task is complete as long as I can get out without any issues.
But just as my hand grips the door handle, preparing my escape, voices grow, coming closer.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
My fist tightens on the knob. I know that voice.
“Me? This is my family’s home.”
This has to be the shit bag ex.
“You know that I don’t have a choice to be here.”
“I want you to come back home.”
“That’s not happening.”
Their voices get louder, coming closer to the door I’m hiding behind.
“Do you realize how fucking stupid I look going through a divorce, losing my job, going through rehab?”
“That’s on you. Not me.”
“Fuck you, Linden.”
My entire body is primed, ready to pounce, even though my brain is yelling at me to stand down. This isn’t my fight. I can’t blow my cover.
But if he lays a finger on her…
“I’m taking Avery home now. Nice of you to even ask about your daughter.”
“How about I take my daughter?” He threatens.
“You can’t have her.”
“Yeah? Says who?”
“Me! Her mother!”
“Don’t walk away from me, Linden. Linden!” He yells, the sound disappearing as he leaves the hallway.
I don’t hesitate, cracking the door open and diving back into the parlor across the hall. I pick their voices back up on the other side of the room, through the other door.
“The only reason this divorce isn’t final is because your parents keep blocking it, but as far as you should be concerned, we’re done. Over. You are never coming near me again, and if I can help it, you won’t come near Avery either.”
“Big threats coming from someone like you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You aren’t going anywhere, Linden. You’re at our mercy. As far as I’m concerned, you are still my wife. You belong to me.”
Tendrils of hot rage curl up my neck. No one gets to talk to her that way, and she definitely doesn’t belong to him.
She doesn’t belong to me either.
My back hits the door silently as I stare into the dark room. There’s a grand piano in one corner and bookshelves lining the walls. Above two ornamental chairs is a portrait of Avery hanging on the wall.
She looks a little old for her age, but it’s an oil painting. The blonde hair and green eyes are unmistakably hers, though.
When all is quiet and I assume Linden got away from the prick, I slide through the rest of the house, back to my evac point. The terrace near Edmund Scott’s office is the easiest access point, but just before I get there, voices return.
I duck into a dark corner and go still.
“Leave me alone, Turner. I’m getting Avery, and we’re leaving.”
“Tell me where you’re living.”
“No.” She’s coming closer, and he’s right behind her.
“I know it isn’t far. I’ll find you.”
Linden stops in her tracks, and right where she is standing, a mirror on the wall reflects her grief-stricken face. But if I can see her, that means…
Her eyes lift on their own, gazing into the mirror at the end of the hallway. I know the moment she depicts my shape in the dark reflection of the mirror.
Turner Scott is behind her, but he can’t see what she sees. A man in a mask, deep within the shadows.
I raise my hand, putting one finger to my covered mouth, begging her instinct to scream to lie dormant. She doesn’t know who I am under the mask. She owes me nothing.
Her stare intensifies as she looks at me, looking at her. Her head even tilts slightly as if she wants a better angle, but then she stops and her entire posture changes.
This is it, this is when she calls for help…
But she only blinks a few times and turns away, leaving my line of sight.
“You probably will find me, Turner. Your mother will bend to your request soon enough and give up my address, but I am asking you to stay away. Your daughter doesn’t need to see how you treat me.
So if you want to smack me around, do it right here and get it over with. Right now.”
There’s a brief moment of silence, and all I can hear is my ragged breathing. What the fuck did she just say?
“If not, leave me alone because I do not belong to you. I never have. She’ll visit your parents. That’s the agreement.”
This time I hear her shoes clicking as she stomps away, and the hollowness in my gut grows the farther she gets.
When I know I’m alone, I enter Edmund’s office and descend the side of the house with ease using window sills and a rose-covered metal lattice.
I should head towards the pastures behind the house, but I can’t get myself to leave without checking on Linden and Avery one more time. If I know they leave without any issues, I can focus more clearly.
Motion lights pepper the outer perimeter, but I’ve memorized their location and can avoid them without a problem. The front of the house is more of an issue because of the valet attendants, security, and all of the guest vehicles.
I get a visual on her and Avery exiting the mansion, and I watch motionless in the shadows as they get to her car. It takes her a minute to get Avery buckled in the back seat, and just before she closes the back door, Turner exits the mansion.
“Get my car,” he demands from one of the valets.
The young valet goes running toward the dark parking area, and unfortunately for him, I follow.
He reaches a black Lincoln, but before he opens the door, I lock him in a chokehold from behind, cutting off his air supply just long enough for him to lose consciousness.
I lower him gently to the ground and am long gone before the other valets bother to come looking for him. Long enough for Turner to lose his chance to harass Linden anymore tonight.
* * *
I jump over my back fence from the pasture that I’ve traversed back and forth many nights now, and wait to pick up on any activity. Linden’s house is still dark though, and silent.
They should have beat me back. They should be home by now.
Turmoil stews so deeply within me I have to rip my mask off my face so I can breathe deeper. Why am I letting anyone have this effect on me?
Why do I care?
I can’t be who I need to be when I care.
When ten agonizing minutes go by, and they still aren’t home, I’m pacing back and forth inside my garage, fighting my instinct that wants to know exactly where they are and what they’re doing.
Linden is usually putting Avery to bed by now. She has a routine that she hardly ever strays from.
Fuck it, I’m not chancing it. I am not going to sit idly by if something is wrong.
I dial a number that I don’t bother looking up.
Linden picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” I can’t keep the frustration from my voice, and I curse silently to myself.
“Who is this?” She asks meekly.
I take a deep breath, trying to unlock my jaw. “Your neighbor.”
“Jack?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, thank God,” she cries softly.
“What’s wrong?” I’m already getting in the truck.
“My car broke– again, we– st–”
“Are you okay? Could you pull off the road?”
“…died– Can’t mo–”
I don’t wait for better reception; I know the exact route she drives to and from the Scott mansion. I’ve had that mapped since nearly the day I found out who she was.
Running her license plate the very first day she pulled in as my new neighbor had her fate sealed.
“Keep your seatbelt on, Linden! Keep Avery in her car seat!”
I’ve spent every day since trying to learn every detail about her.
I know the brand of shampoo she uses.
And which pair of jean short overalls she wears the most.
She shops at the local convenience store because she rarely buys meat. I thought she was a vegetarian, but I quickly realized it’s because meat is too expensive.
Avery won’t leave the house without at least two accessories, but Linden rarely wears any.
Her hair is her natural color, and her makeup never covers up her freckles.
“Jack? Yo- ther-” Her voice cuts in and out again.
“Stay in the car! Keep your seat belts on!” I don’t know if she hears it or not, but it doesn’t matter. “I’m coming for you.”
Whether she knows it or not, I’ll be there.