"Hello?" Harper said as she gently wrapped her hand around the edge of the door. She slowly pulled the door open...and stared down the dark, dusty stairs...
The basement...
Don't Tell a Soul
Harper couldn't sleep at all last night. She tossed and turned into every position imaginable until her tired eyes finally caved in. She couldn't get what Rosie said out of her head. Is it really possible that Grayson could actually take someone's life? Sure, she had only known him for a couple of days and yes, he had an ego; but was he really a killer?
Or could it have been Elena? Could she have uncovered a hidden love affair between Delilah and Grayson? Could she have killed Delilah in a fit of passion and rage?
Harper thought to herself in silence. Elena and Grayson were both at work and she had just dropped off Rosie at school...so she was alone...and that was dangerous. When you're alone with your thoughts, you tend to think too much. But maybe that's just what Harper needed to piece this disturbing little puzzle together. Who knew more about the Livingston's? She needed more evidence. She needed an insider...
Harper's eyes then slowly drifted up to the tiny window above the sink...to see the tall, iron gates surrounding the neighborhood. That was it...that was the insider...
The gatekeeper...
Patrick...
Harper slowly walked down the road as the hot morning sun beamed down onto her from above. She felt the heat rise from the black pavement and through the soles of her gray Sperry Top-Sider's. She tugged at her jean shorts nervously as she slowly made her way...closer and closer towards the locked gate ahead.
She saw Patrick, standing at the edge of the little security building right outside the gate. A cigarette sticking out from between his lips as he puffed and puffed. Harper slowly walked to the locked gate and gripped the bars tightly as she peered out to him. His head slowly turned to her as a smile spread across his face and he exhaled the smoke that danced inside of his lungs.
"Well, if it isn't the nanny," Patrick smirked as he walked up to the gate and stared at her through the bars.
"It's Harper," she said coyly as she slid her hands down the black bars.
"You're just the nanny to me," Patrick said as he shrugged. "At least, until you hold up your part of the bargain," he added quickly.
"What bargain?" Harper giggled as she stared at him, confused and lost.
"I'm still waiting on those snickerdoodle cookies," he said as he took a long drag of his cigarette.
"You'll get your cookies," Harper said as her eyes narrowed onto him.
"If..." Patrick said. He was much smarter than he looked. He could smell Harper's burning questions buried deep inside of her from a mile away. This neighborhood was full of dirty, little secrets. And he knew that Harper had a few...
"Let me out," Harper said softly.
"Why should I do that?" Patrick said as he threw his cigarette down and stepped on it.
"Please," Harper said softly as her wide eyes gazed at him through the thick, black bars. Patrick let out a soft smile as two dimples appeared on both cheeks.
The iron gate creaked open as Harper stepped outside and followed Patrick into the tiny building beside the gate. Harper slowly settled into an old chair beside the desk as she watched him closely. She couldn't handle the secrets anymore. She had to get down to the bottom of what happened to Delilah. She couldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't do anything without Rosie's haunting words swirling around inside of her brain. She had to just spit it out...get down to business.
"What happened to the old Livingston nanny?" Harper asked softly as she scooted closer towards Patrick. Patrick slowly sat back in his chair as he exhaled sharply.
"What I tell you stays between us, OK? Don't you dare utter a single word to anybody...ever. I'm doing this only because I like you and I really don't like a whole lot of people," Patrick said with a small giggle.
"I promise, I won't tell a soul. And you'll get your cookies tomorrow...I promise," Harper said as she smirked.
"Damn straight," Patrick said with a nod. His smile slowly faded as he leaned in closer, as if he was going to tell Harper the biggest secret of all time. "People in this neighborhood don't realize how much I see. How much I hear. How much I learn. Sure, I'm just the security guard...the gatekeeper. But I know more about these people then they know about themselves," Patrick said as he glanced to the open door of the building to make sure the coast was clear.
"Go on," Harper said as she nodded.
"Delilah just took the job at the Livingston's to get some extra cash to pay for her classes at the university. It was never meant to be permanent. It was just going to easy cash; a get in, work for a year, and get out. It was supposed to be simple; easy," Patrick whispered as he stared into Harper's eyes.
"But?" Harper said slowly.
"But...she kind of got mixed up into a bit of a mess with the Livingston's," Patrick said.
"Let me guess, she was having an affair with Grayson?" Harper said as she sighed and sat back in the chair. Shocker. As if this was something she didn't already know. She needed something. She needed a new piece of the puzzle. Maybe Patrick didn't know as much as he thought he did.
"No...you've got it all wrong," Patrick giggled as he crossed his arms tightly.
"Oh yeah, then what's the twist? Huh? Was she a drug addict? Did she steal from them?" Harper said sarcastically.
"No, she did have an affair," Patrick nodded.
"So I was right; she did have an affair with Grayson," Harper said as she smiled coyly. She crossed her arms in satisfaction, mimicking Patrick's prestigious pose.
"No..." Patrick said as he shook his head and leaned forward.
"Then what?" Harper asked, impatient.
"Delilah had an affair with Elena," Patrick said as he stared back into Harper's wide eyes...
A Dark and Lonely Place
Harper quickly shuffled down the road and back towards the Livingston house. She could feel Patrick's eyes on her as he stood outside of the locked gate. Patrick was sweet...and quite cute. But right now, she had no time to mingle. She had to get to the bottom of this terrible mystery that was swallowing her...suffocating her more and more every day. Whatever happened to Delilah...was going to be uncovered. But now, everything was even more twisted. Elena was in fact the one having an affair with Delilah. Did that mean that Grayson was the one who killed Delilah after all? Was Rosie's disturbing story true?
Harper shoved the front door of the Livingston house open and slammed it shut behind her. She had to get down to the basement...she had to be sure. She needed answers and she needed them now before she got any deeper into this mess.
The basement door creaked open as Harper's shaking hand pulled on the golden handle. She stared down the dark staircase that lead down to the dark abyss below. Whatever Grayson or Elena was hiding...was down these very steps. The secret...hidden away like old furniture to collect dust and spider webs.
The old wooden steps sounded off under Harper's shoes as she slowly made her way down the dust covered stairs. The smell of mildew flooded her nostrils; the sour scent stung her nose as it swirled through the air around her. She quickly took out her phone, turned on her flashlight app, and continued down to the darkness below.
The basement was cluttered with taped boxes and plastic covered furniture. A drying and washing machine stood in the far corner. The only light in sight was the sunshine shimmering through a small window high along the far wall. She moved through the darkness, deeper and deeper.
Harper shined her phone in front of her as she slowly stepped around a stack of damp boxes. Her O.C.D. began to kick in as she dissected the terrible mess in her head. All of the boxes, in random orders and groups; no size or color coordination. She wanted to stack them all neatly in the corner...biggest to smallest. But there was no time. Harper tucked away her little weaknesses and continued through the basement.
Harper slowly stopped at a large box and ripped the ta
pe from the lid. She unfolded the lid and dug around inside; nothing but old baby clothes and bibs. Harper moved to the next box...and then another...and then another. Every box, filled with the clothes, old baby toys, or Christmas decorations. Something had to be down here; something...that connected Delilah to this dark, cold, lonely basement.
Harper slowly moved forward and towards the washing and drying machine along the wall...and that's when she tumbled down onto the cold, concrete floor.
Harper slammed onto her stomach as the air was knocked out of her. Harper's soft palms slammed against the concrete as she slowly struggled to catch her breath.
"What the fuck?" Harper said breathlessly as she slowly sat up and looked at the scrapped surface of her soft palms. She then looked around for the cause of her sudden tumble. She then saw it...the edge of a large area rug. She then looked around her...to see that she was sitting directly in the center of the rug. A nice rug like this...in the center of the basement? No...something wasn't right.
Harper slowly stood up as she grabbed the edge of the large area rug. She gently tugged the edge, pulling the rug away from the concrete floor. She dropped the edge of the rug beside her as she shined her phone down onto the floor...and her eyes widened.
A large, bloody red stain was splashed all along the concrete surface of the basement floor...the stain, hidden away under the area rug.
"Oh, my God," Harper said as her voice quivered. She felt her palms grow sweaty as she stared down at the bloody stain. Rosie's story...it was true. Delilah...Delilah was killed here in this very basement. Harper struggled to piece all of the missing components together.
She then heard the sound of the large front door open above her...
Someone was here...someone was in the house...
Harper quickly grabbed the edge of the rug and threw it back over the bloody stain. She quickly ran her shoes over it, smoothing out the rugged, wrinkled edges. Harper rushed towards the stairs. She ran up the stairs, two at a time. Her legs pumping, faster and faster.
She heard the muffled voices growing closer and closer.
The basement door...just a few feet away...just a few more steps. Harper quickly shoved the basement door open and ran out into the hallway. They were close...they were right around the corner in the foyer...
Harper quietly shut the basement door as she spun around to see...
Grayson and Elena as they both shuffled through the doorway and into the hallway. Their eyes glanced to Harper as she struggled to control her speeding heart inside of her chest.
"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" Harper said as she tried to control her heavy breath.
"Guys, where did you go?" a soft voice rang out from behind them. Harper glanced past them to see a tall, thin young woman. Harper watched as the unknown woman flipped her long, blond, golden locks over her shoulder. The woman's dark green eyes settled onto Harper as she smiled softly.
"Actually, I was just about to introduce you," Elena giggled as she wrapped her arm around the young woman. "This is my sister, Kyle. Her flight got in a bit early so me and Grayson both took a half day to pick her up. She comes into town for about a month every year," Elena said as she smiled to Harper.
"Yeah, somebody's gotta make sure Elena stays out of trouble," Kyle said as she nudged her sister playfully.
"Oh, well it is very nice to meet you! I'm Harper, I'm the nanny," Harper said softly as she smiled and extended her hand. Kyle slowly reached forward and shook Harper's gently.
Kyle was beautiful. She had a perfect sun kissed glow. Her beautiful, thick mane of hair hung down her back, windswept and wavy. Her face, flawless; not a single scar, blemish, or wrinkle. Harper studied her quickly. She had to be close to Harper's age; maybe twenty-three or twenty-four.
"It's so nice to meet you, too. I've heard a lot about you," Kyle said with a wink.
"Oh, you have?" Harper giggled nervously as she looked to Elena and Grayson. "Well, hopefully it was all good," Harper added.
"Definitely. Elena told me you're so good with Rosie. I know she's my niece, but she sure can be a handful at times," Kyle giggled. "A lot like her dad," Kyle added quickly as she grabbed Grayson's muscular shoulder and squeezed it tightly.
Hmm. Maybe Grayson was fucking her, too...
"Well, it was so good to meet you. But I actually have to leave to pick up Rosie," Harper said with a soft smile.
"Thank you so much, Harper. I can't tell you much I appreciate you! Tell you what, after you bring Rosie home...you can take the rest of the night off. How's that sound?" Elena smiled as she grabbed Harper's hands tightly.
"Yeah...yeah, I'd like that," Harper said as she looked down. She couldn't look Elena straight in the eyes...not after what she had just learned. Harper was so convinced that Grayson was a monster...but Elena was just as guilty. Maybe that's why Grayson was the way he was. Maybe he found out and it broke his trust. Maybe...maybe she broke a good man and turned him bad.
"Well, then that sounds like a plan! I don't mean to be rude but my sister here has a date tonight and I have to do her make-up. I don't want her going looking like a raccoon," Elena giggled as she grabbed Kyle's hand and lead her down the hallway. Harper watched the two of them as they giggled together and disappeared into the foyer and out of sight.
"Wow, a date already? She moves fast," Harper giggled to Grayson as he leaned against the wall.
"She's been talking to this guy for a while. Every time she comes down, she hooks up with him. She uses him and abuses him for a month and leaves...only to come back and devour him some more," Grayson giggled. "It's like her personal Briar Grove slam piece. She says she has a boyfriend in every zip code," Grayson added as his eyes drifted to Harper.
"Well, I better go," Harper said as she began to walk down the hallway and towards the foyer.
"What were you doing in the basement?" Grayson said behind her.
Harper stopped in her tracks. She could feel her heart beat, faster and faster as she slowly turned around.
"What?" Harper asked as she tried to hide her trembling voice.
"You're fast but not fast enough," Grayson smiled as he edged closer towards Harper. Harper slowly backed away...as her back slowly collided with the wall behind her. Grayson slowly lifted his hand and placed it along the wall behind her...trapping her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harper said as she quickly glanced down and away from Grayson.
"Did you find anything down there?" Grayson asked as he tilted his head to the right, awaiting her answer.
"I have to go," Harper said as she quickly slid off of the wall and quickly shuffled through the doorway and into the foyer. Harper could feel him...still staring...watching her as she walked towards the front door.
Harper quickly leaped into her car and started the engine. She had to get out of here...now. She had to get Rosie, drop her off, and go straight home. She needed time to think. She needed time to figure out what in the hell was going on inside of that house.
Harper slowly put her car in reverse...as her eyes drifted back up to the house. And that's when she saw them...the two bright blue eyes staring out through the space between the curtains of the living room window. Harper slowly stared back at the eyes as she quickly slammed her foot onto the gas pedal...
The eyes of Grayson Livingston...
A Twisted, Tangled Web
Harper could feel her cat's eyes burning into her as she tossed and turned in her bed, restless and wired. Every turn, every move...disrupting Beans' comfortable resting place at the foot of her bed. She couldn't help it. No matter how many times she tried to push the image of that blood stain on the basement floor of the Livingston's basement, it came back to her; like a photograph forever burned into her brain. Harper slowly turned onto her stomach and buried her face into her soft feather pillow.
Should she go to the police?
No. She needed more evidence. She needed something more concrete than a stain and an eight-year-old girl's scary
story. If all of this was just rubbish, she would be possibly setting herself to lose one of the best paying nanny jobs in the city. She had to think about this, calm, cool, and collected. Her mind slowly drifted from the blood stain and to Elena and Delilah...about what Patrick had told her about their secret, lustful affair.
Should she tell Grayson about their affair?
No. Way. In. Hell. What Grayson had done with her that night after the bar was on the exact same disgusting level as Elena and Delilah. As if Grayson was even deserving of such a terrible truth. Then again, maybe it would knock his ego down a few notches. Maybe she should break him...make him sorry for the terrible thing he did to his precious wife and beautiful baby girl. But what Elena did wasn't any worse. They were even. Nothing good would come of telling Grayson. It would just cause more trouble and confusion in this already twisted tangled web Harper was caught in.
Before she knew it, her alarm for six a.m. was ringing through her ears. She hadn't slept at all; how could she? Her head felt so heavy...so compressed and tight. A million and one different questions floated around inside of her and she had no answers to a single one of them. She always felt so in control of her life. Now, it was as if everything around her was moving a thousand miles per hour, giving her no chance to even think clearly and effectively; giving her no time to prepare or plan her next move.
Harper finished buttoning the red and blue plaid shirt she had dragged out of the hamper as she made her way up towards the front door of the Livingston house. She took slow breaths. In...and out. In...and out. Don't think about it. Don't think about Delilah. Don't think about the blood stain. Don't think about Grayson or Elena. Just go in there...and take care of Rosie. Simple as that.
Harper slowly stepped into the Livingston house as the smell of bacon and eggs swirled into her nostrils. She slowly rounded the corner of the kitchen doorway to see Elena and Rosie sitting at the middle island. A full plate of breakfast in front of each of them. Harper looked to the stove to see Kyle. She turned and gave a kind smile as she flipped two pieces of crackling bacon in the frying pan. Her long, blond hair clipped up into a messy bun. A loose sleeping shirt hidden under a white apron tied tightly around her small, trimmed waist. God, even at seven a.m., Kyle looked flawless. If Harper could look that good in a long, wrinkled shirt, no make-up, and a greasy apron, she'd wear that every single day and never change.
Don't Tell a Soul Page 3
