Chapter 33
THE DOGS ARE FINE when I get back to the car. The hatchback seat, alas, is not. Now I know what I was smelling. The perfect end to a totally crappy day: traffic into the city, Metcalf, Lily screaming, her fever, my panic, the erratic drive back, the waiting room, the stress.
I’m looking forward to a nice quiet evening at home.
I’ll bathe Lily, rock her, and sing her a lullaby, one of the cute ones from Tumblestiltskin.
Then, once she’s asleep, my job will be done.
Fortunately, Amber does all the nighttime feedings.
I think she enjoys the excuse to sleep in the baby’s room and not with Ben. Can’t say I blame her.
My meager to-do list for tonight: take a shower, maybe read a little, then collapse on the nanny room’s luxurious Saatva HD king hybrid. Forget clouds—it’s like sleeping on marshmallows.
But you know what they say: If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.
I stop at the pharmacy to pick up Lily’s prescription, then drive back to the house. When I pull up, I see there’s no room for me in the driveway. A third car is between Amber’s and Ben’s, so I have to park across the street.
I take Lily out of her car seat and open the hatch for the dogs.
The two of them scamper to the house. But instead of running around to the side yard as they usually do, they scamper to the front door.
Both of them are growling, sniffing something that’s lying there.
Then Jane begins to tap it with her paw.
As I walk closer, I see it’s a thin, slimy gray blob with a foul smell. Some sort of liquid is oozing out of it. Weird.
When I get to the door I hear screams. It sounds like another Hailey meltdown. Except it isn’t.
Parked between the two Harrisons’ cars is a police cruiser. And the screams are coming from Amber.
Someone left a dead snake on their doorstep.