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Avery Sinclair was dying.
She’d been wearing four inch heels all morning and her calves were screaming at her. So when she finally got home to her Pacific Palisades home, after visiting four properties she’d recently put on the market, she was happy to slip out of those shoes and into some slippers.
It was a temporary reprieve. After having a quick bite for lunch, she had two other couples to meet with, both of whom wanted to list their places early in the new year. The only good thing was that the commute would be negligible, as they each lived nearby, in mansions even more impressive than Avery’s own home.
She was just prepping her salad when the doorbell rang. She wasn’t in the mood to walk all the way to the front door, so she checked her Ring app to see who it was. Unfortunately, it looked like the thing was acting up again, as the image was fuzzy at best.
The bell rang again, and she reluctantly went to answer it. The gardener, who wasn”t supposed to be here until this afternoon, occasionally showed up early. And even though he had a key to the side gate, he wouldn”t go in the backyard unless he knew someone was around to authorize it. He”d explained that a neighbor once called the police on him when he was working at a house. Since then, he never took a chance.
Avery looked through the front door peephole and saw that it wasn’t the gardener at all. Surprised, she opened the door.
“Hi,” she said, trying to be pleasant despite her mild irritation. “I thought we weren’t meeting up until after the new year.”
“I know,” her visitor said. “I’m sorry to just stop by. But I was in the area and thought it might be worth checking in, just in case.”
“I would have thought you’d call or text first,” Avery said, aware that she was being ungracious but not caring that much. Her salad time was quickly evaporating.
“I actually lost my phone,” her visitor said. “Truthfully, I think it might have been stolen, though I can’t prove that. That’s another reason I figured I’d come by. Until I get a new one later today, I don’t know who’s been trying to get in touch with me. But if this is a bad time, I can always come back.”
Avery didn’t like the idea of having to go through all this again soon, so she decided to bite the bullet.
“No, come on in,” she said. “But we’re going to have to multi-task. I have some appointments soon, so I’m putting together some lunch. We can talk in the kitchen. Close the door behind you.”
“Actually,” the visitor said as they closed the door, “do you mind if I use your bathroom really quick? I’ve had to go for a while.”
Avery stifled a sigh of frustration and pointed down the hall. “It’s the second door on the left,” she said. “Just come back this way when you’re done. The kitchen is down on the right.”
The visitor nodded and headed down the hall. Avery returned to the kitchen and was just starting to chop some carrots when she heard a familiar sound. It was the creak that the stairs made as someone reached the step at the halfway point. Her heart began beating rapidly.
Other than her and the visitor, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the house right now. Willem was at work. The kids were at her sister’s house for the day. The maid had Fridays off. Could the visitor be sneaking upstairs for some reason? That seemed unlikely. Then another thought occurred to Avery. She hadn’t been paying close attention earlier. Had the visitor thought to lock the front door after closing it? Had they even closed it all the way? If not, someone on the street might have seen and come in.
Avery clutched the chef’s knife she’d been using on the carrots and headed back down the hallway. Her phone was in her pocket, and she was tempted to call 911. But that seemed a little rash. She started down the hallway leading to the bathroom. She could hear the water running and saw the light on under the door.
That only freaked Avery out more. If the visitor was still in the bathroom, that meant that someone else was definitely in the house. She reached the stairs and started up, making sure to skip the creaky step. When she reached the top, she paused and listened closely.
There wasn”t any sound, but then she saw it. A shadow appeared in the hallway just outside her bedroom. The light from the window must have cast it. Now certain she had an intruder in the house, she pulled out her phone and dialed 911. She immediately got an automated message telling her someone would be on the line soon. She was inclined to just head back downstairs when she heard a clanking sound.
Then she remembered that after last night”s Westside Realtor Awards gala, she”d been so tired that she”d just taken off her diamond tennis necklace and emerald earrings, leaving them on her makeup vanity rather than returning them to the safe. She couldn”t risk those being stolen. Together, they were worth close to $15,000.
She shoved her phone back in her pocket and dashed down the hall. As she entered the bedroom, she was stunned and confused by what she saw. The visitor that she’d invited into her home was standing by a bookshelf. They’d moved her “realtor of the year” trophy to the side and were putting some kind of small, metal canister behind a large, framed family photo. But even more shocking, they seemed to be wearing some kind of gas mask.
“What the hell?” Avery demanded, holding the knife out in front of her as she started in that direction.
The visitor turned around, startled, and bumped the bookshelf. The canister fell to the hardwood floor just as Avery arrived. She was debating whether to actually use the knife on the intruder when the canister suddenly beeped and began emitting a hissing sound. Avery looked down at it in confusion.
“What is that?” she barked, looking back up at the visitor just in time to see that they had grabbed her realtor trophy and were swinging the marble base at her head. She threw her hands up to protect herself, but she was too late. The edge of the trophy base smashed into her forehead just above the left temple.
Avery felt a shock of unimaginable pain in her skull as her legs gave out. Her vision was clouded by swimming colors. She felt her body slam to the floor hard, but that pain was nothing compared to the one in her head.
She groaned as she tried to orient herself and look up. Her vision had cleared slightly, but now the colors were replaced by what she assumed was blood seeping into her eyes from her wound. The visitor was standing above her, clutching her trophy tightly.
“This isn’t how I wanted it to go,” they said, almost apologetically, their voice muffled by the gas mask.
“Please,” Avery managed to mutter, though she couldn’t think of the rest of the words she should say.
The visitor lifted the trophy high in the air, and it was clear that they intended to use it again. Just before they brought it down, Avery heard a voice on the phone in her pocket.
“911. What is the location of your emergency?”
She wanted to respond, but all she could see was the base of the trophy coming toward her. Then she saw nothing.