The Laundry Hag's New Year's Clean-Up

by Jennifer L. Hart

“Get his legs.” Neil tossed me a strip of what had been his sleeve. “One strip around the ankles, another around the knees. Square knots, like Kenny learned in the scouts.”

  I knelt and did as he said, pulling the fabric taut, folding it over and yanking it closed while Neil gagged him and bound his wrists behind his back.

  With the guy trussed up like a Christmas goose, Neil dragged him over to another door I hadn’t noticed on the far end of the curved wall. “Get the lantern on the table out there. I want to see what’s in here.”

  I poked my head out in the hall, spotted the small lantern on a tiered table and hurried back to Neil’s side.

  He was frowning at something on the guy’s wrist. It looked like an oversized watch.

  “What’s that?” I held the lantern closer.

  Neil removed it from the man’s arm and held the face up to the light. Hazel eyes met mine. “It’s counting down.”

  He turned it to face me. Instead of a standard clock face, a timer clicked away from 1 hour thirty-seven minutes and fifty-two seconds.

  What was that about?

  Neil pocketed the watch, then held the light up to the small space along the curved wall. “Supply closet.”

  Sure enough, the small space was about three feet deep and stacked with cleaning supplies, including one of those fancy gismos for polishing floors.

  “No lock,” I pointed out. “Anyone could just open the door and find him.”

  “Which they probably will as soon as they notice he’s missing.” Neil’s tone was grim. I stood back while he dragged the man inside. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

  I understood what he meant. “Maybe we should try to interrogate him? Find out who these people are and what they want.”

  “First we need to contact the outside world. Then we’ll worry about motive, though I’m betting it’s robbery.” After shutting the door, Neil gripped my arm and tugged me out into the hall.

  I stayed quiet while we crept along the wall away from the staircase leading down to the ground floor and toward some of the closed off rooms. The first room we tried was a powder room. The next was a child’s bedroom with a pink canopy bed and a white dresser. Since the Swenson’s only child was a twenty something who lived in their pool house, I guessed this was one for guests.

  Neil slipped inside first and shut the door.

  “What makes you so sure it’s a robbery?” I asked.

  “Did you get a load of the wealth down there? There had to be close to a million in jewelry alone. Why else strike at the height of the party if not to steal every diamond necklace and gold watch here?” Neil scanned the room.

  “No phone or computer,” I said. “If that’s all they’re after, maybe they’ll leave after they clear out the stash?”

  Neil didn’t respond. He got onto his hands and knees and crawled over the pink rug.

  I moved tentatively toward the window. This side of the house overlooked the evergreen trees, and the Olympic sized swimming pool. The calm surface reflected the expanding crescent moon back up at me, all calm serenity, oblivious to the chaos happening inside the house.

  “Stay out of sight,” Neil hissed as he ran his hands along the wall behind the canopy bed. “There might be more of them patrolling the grounds.”

  I backed away from the window. “What are you looking for?”

  “Phone jack or cable box. Anything we can use to send a signal.” His frustrated exhale told me he came up empty.

  The next room over was another guestroom, albeit this one was draped in white sheets to keep dust from accumulating on the antique furniture. There was a cordless telephone on the nightstand.

  Neil picked up the handset and depressed the talk button.

  “Anything?” I asked.

  “Dead. I can’t tell if they cut the cord or it’s out because the power is out on the base unit. We’re going to have to go down a level.” Neil returned the receiver to the base.

  “What about the other room, the one I saw them come out of? There might be a corded phone in there.”

  “I don’t want to risk the room you saw them in earlier. Down is safer.”

  Down meant the stairs. I closed my eyes, hating the thought of being so exposed, of slowing him down. I knew without a doubt Neil would use his own body as a human shield to protect me. My throat began to close up. “Maybe I should stay here.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No backing out now, especially not with that guy between us and our rendezvous point. What if they found him already? They’ll know we’re up here.”

  My hands fluttered uselessly. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “You’re staying safe. That’s the most important job in the world. Right?”

  I bit my lip. “What if I could do two things at once.”

  He frowned at me. “What do you mean.”

  I’d been thinking about it since Neil had mentioned motive. “That spot behind the curtain. I could sit there and listen, maybe overhear whatever they are planning. Find out who they are. The more information we can give the authorities, the better, right?”

  Neil opened his mouth to respond, then stilled.

  “Wha—?” I started to ask.

  His hand clamped over my mouth. “Someone’s coming.”

  MY EYES WENT WIDE AS someone rattled the doorknob.

  “I locked it,” Neil whispered in my ear.

  I sagged in relief, right up until we heard the distinctive sound of a lock being turned back. Faster than I could process, Neil dragged me over to the heavy draperies. He sat on the window seat, pulling his feet up so they wouldn’t be visible beneath the curtains and gestured for me to do the same.

  I did, hoping the fabric was thick and textured enough to conceal us.

  For a moment, the only sound was the heated air blowing out of the vent. The curtains were sturdy, barely moving under the forced air. Then the doorknob turning again, followed by a male voice. “George? You in here?”

  The voice was deep and had the nasal drip I associated with Long Island.

  The sweep of a flashlight bright as a set of high beams flicked over our hiding place, shining in the part where the two curtains met at the center and along the bottom. Please, let the curtains have light blocking properties. Please let them be satisfied and not come over here to inspect.

  Neil had the assault rifle tucked under his arm, aimed at the bedroom door. There was no doubt in my mind, none, that he would shoot if he felt it was necessary to save my life. For no particular reason I recalled something he’d told me once about being able to feel someone’s eyes on him when he was hunting or tracking.

  “All the hair rises up on my arms and the back of my neck prickles. That’s how I know I’m being watched.”

  Not wanting to distract him or alert the guy looking for George, I closed my lids. If death was coming for me, looking it in the face wouldn’t make a lick of difference.

  During that same conversation Neil had added “If you ever need to hide, don’t hold your breath.”

  “Why not?” I’d asked.

  “Because you can only do it for so long before you start gasping. Not only will you give your position away, you’ll be short of oxygen when you might need it to run or fight.” He’d raised my hand to his lips.

  “So, how should I breathe then?” I’d tilted my head to the side, genuinely curious.

  “Take slow, shallow noiseless inhales and exhale just as methodically. Try to make your breathing fade into the background.”

  It was sound advice and I did my best to follow it, not letting out the fearful sobs from within. Sitting with my eyes closed and breathing was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

  “I don’t understand it.” A woman’s voice, vaguely familiar. “He was supposed to be patrolling this floor.”

  My lids popped open in recognition. Neil didn’t so much as twitch.

  Something creaked as one or perhaps both of t
hem moved deeper into the room. Closer toward our hiding place. The closet door was opened.

  “You know George. Probably jerking off in the nearest head.” Long Island guy chuckled.

  “You’re disgusting,” she said this absently, as though out of habit. “Come on, I need to get back before anyone notices I’m gone.”

  “Maybe I should rough you up a little,” the goon said. “Make it look convincing. There’s a nice soft bed right here and everything. No one will notice if you’re gone a little longer.”

  “Eye on the prize, Romeo. Remember, you’re supposed to be my brother, not my lover. Besides, you need to get started on the gallery. We’re cutting it too close as it is.”

  Cutting what close? What did she mean get back? And what exactly were they planning to do in the gallery?

  And how had they let themselves into the locked room?

  The door closed and because I was breathing shallowly and listening, I could hear their continued conversation even as my mind whirled.

  Neil slipped off the window seat and moved to the door. I followed more slowly, wondering what, if anything, I should say.

  Neil beat me to it. “Fricking hell, Amber. What are you mixed up in?”

  Chapter Five

  One hour and forty-five minutes ‘til midnight

  Maggie

  Neil didn’t pace, didn’t waste the energy he needed to see us through this. Outwardly he was a still, dark shape in waiting mode.

  Inwardly, I knew my husband seethed.

  In a night full of unexpected shocks, he’d just been dealt the most unexpected of all. Amber, his ex-wife and Kenny and Josh’s mother had somehow gotten herself wrapped up in this whole hostage taking situation.

  Was it about the money? From what I’d heard downstairs, she had sunk her claws into some doctor. Yet she’d implied that the Long Island ape was her lover.

  “Neil,” I whispered low.

  He turned to face me.

  I lowered my voice and stepped closer. “I think it was her I spied earlier. In that other bedroom. But she was at the party, too.”

  “They needed someone on the inside. A guest to blend in and take inventory. You said she was engaged?”

  At my nod he swore low. “That means she’s been part of this for a while. They targeted someone in the Swenson’s inner circle to gain access to the party.”

  “What do we do?”

  He shook his head. “We still need to make a call for help. It just got harder though because they’re in the gallery. If the guy who I’m guessing is the missing George comes to and starts making noise, they’ll find him and know someone is on the loose.”

  “And if she recognizes Leo,” I swallowed past the fear in my throat. “She’ll have a good idea who.”

  He strode toward the furniture and yanked a sheet off the armoire. “Our time is almost up here. I don’t think looking for an active landline is the smartest move anymore. Get the one off the mirror.”

  “The sheet?” I asked as he snagged the one off the bed. I handed it to him and watched in disbelief as he started tying the two together. “Oh no.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, Slick.”

  “I’m thinking we need to get as far away from the signal jammer as possible so we can use our phones and call for help.” He annunciated the last word as he tied another knot.

  “It’s three stories,” I wanted to shriek but settled for a hiss. “Neil, I can’t shinny down a building on a couple of bedsheets like a teenage waif. I can barely get through a half hour Mommy and Me yoga class with Lily in a sling.”

  He nodded. “That’s why I’m going to lower you down.”

  My teeth sank into my lower lip as I imagined myself being hefted to the ground like a piece of freight too big to clear the doorway. “What about Leo?”

  He shook his head and moved to the double hung windows. Unlatched it.

  “Neil, we can’t just leave him.”

  He popped out the screen, studiously ignoring me.

  “Look, I know he’s been a pain all night but I won’t turn my back on my friend when he’s in danger.”

  “Maggie, Amber is self-involved. There’s a good chance she won’t place Leo if he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  He inhaled softly. “Then our best bet is to send help back for him. We have one weapon. One. And at least one hundred hostages in the room below. With time I might manage to disarm a few more of them, but I don’t have a SEAL team here. I don’t have intel, don’t know how many unsubs I’m up against.”

  “Unsubs?” I raised a brow.

  “Unidentified subjects. I also don’t know what other weapons they have and most importantly, what lengths they’ll go to in order to attain their goal or what that goal even is. I can’t win this one for you, love. I wish I could but the best I can do is get you safely out of here.”

  The anguish in his voice gave me pause. He wanted to do better, to be my hero and save the day. But it was out of his power. All I was doing was making him feel shitty. “I promised not to argue,” I muttered.

  His nod was solemn, his gaze steady. “You did.”

  “I’m lousy at taking orders.”

  “At least you’re consistent.”

  I patted his cheek. “Lower away.”

  It wasn’t that simple of course. First Neil had to fashion a harness for me out of the sheets. He wound the sheet until it resembled a rope and fastened it around my waist before looping it through my legs. The knots were heavy and complicated. He tugged on them harshly to make sure the ends were secure. Then he wrapped another twisted sheet around the solid oak footboard as a fulcrum before tying it around his own waist. His hands didn’t shake as he made the complicated knots and bends in our makeshift rope, all his concentration on the task at hand.

  I caught sight of myself in front of the newly exposed mirror. All dark except for the blindingly white strips of cloth that sagged like a wet diaper. “I look like an overgrown baby New Year.”

  Neil didn’t laugh, which was probably a good thing. One of us needed to keep a clear head. “All right. Let’s take this slow and easy.”

  “Slow and easy,” I repeated dubiously.

  “You’ve survived tougher scrapes than this,” he reminded me. “This is a cakewalk.”

  Funny, we both had, yet for some reason I couldn’t bring a single for instance to mind.

  He kissed me hard and then helped me climb partway through the window. The diaper thing snagged between my legs and my bare feet met the frigid limestone. I shivered at the contact.

  “All you need to do is hold on to the fabric above your head. Right here.” Neil pointed to the spot an inch above one of his carefully connected knots that were the size of two tightly clenched fists forming a figure eight. “If you can, brace your feet against the side of the building and lean back, like you are walking backward.”

  I imagined being suspended horizontally three stories in the air with nothing but some tatty old sheets holding me in place and gulped.

  Neil read my trepidation. “If you can’t, no problem. I’ll lower you. And whatever you do, don’t look down.”

  Unable to help myself, I glanced over my shoulder. Dizziness swamped me. “Are you sure we have enough sheet?”

  “Hey,” he gripped my chin, not hard enough to bruise but with enough force to let me know he meant business. “Keep your eyes on me the whole time.”

  “You won’t drop me?” It was stupid, I knew he wouldn’t but I needed to hear it.

  “Never.”

  An icy gust out of the north blew up my skirt. “Really wishing we’d decided to stay home right now.”

  “Maggie, focus. Stay in this moment.” His tone was tough, brooking no nonsense. In a way, that was better than all the tender reassurances.

  I swallowed. Closed my eyes and nodded once. “If this is the only way, then this is what
we’ll do.”

  He tugged the makeshift pulley again, securing the excess sheet so he wouldn’t trip on it. “As soon as you touch the ground, hug the side of the building. These are jamming knots so you’re going to need to work to get them free. Look for cover, shrubs, cars, outbuildings, whatever’s closest.” He kissed my forehead and then braced his feet against the bench seat. “Don’t wait for me if you get a chance to run, run. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whispered and let the sheet take all of my weight.

  For an endless moment, I thought the sheets would come untied. Neil knew what he was doing though. The bindings held.

  Part of me wanted to let him do all the work, to shut my eyes and let him lower me down like a teabag into a steaming cup of water. But it would go faster and be easier on his bad shoulder if I pitched in.

  I took a hesitant step back. The biting cold on my bare foot made me shiver. I couldn’t see Neil, but he must have sensed the movement. The sheet slid out of the window. I took another step and more white fabric slithered out of the open windows. Rough limestone scraped the tender skin of my feet, making the cold sting even worse. I’d be lucky if I didn’t lose a few toes after this escapade.

  Better toes than my life. Or Neil’s life.

  Slowly, steadily, I worked my way down the side of the Swenson’s house. The second story came and went. I paused and tried to open the window from the outside. It didn’t budge. So I kept going, staying in the moment as my brave husband had suggested.

  I dangled about a foot above the first-floor windows when the movement came to an abrupt stop.

  “Neil?” I hissed as loudly as I dared. “What’s going on?”

  His head poked out of the window, red from the effort and acting as if my unskilled self could repel down the side of the building. His words chilled me more than the gusting wind. “We’re out of sheet.”

  “UP SHEET’S CREEK,” I grumbled as I worked the tricksy knot Neil had used on my harness. The cold had made my fingers numb and clumsy and my weight caught in the grip of that sick bitch gravity kept the figure eight knots pulled taut.

  I was suspended somewhere between fifteen and twenty feet off the ground. Some sort of squat scrubby shrubs had been planted beneath the window on the first story. They looked thick and leafy, even on the last night of the year.