S is for Silence (Kinsey Millhone 19)

He was kissing her bare boob when she saw a flash of headlights swing across the ceiling. Down below, gravel crunched, the vehicle so close to the house they could hear the driver pulling on his brake. Liza gasped and broke free, scrambling to her hands and knees as the car door slammed. “Oh my lord, someone’s here!”

Ty crawled over to the window and peered out. “Don’t panic. It’s fine. He isn’t coming this way.”

Liza eased in behind him, her eyes just above sill level. The driver was on the far side of the vehicle, which was ten yards away. She picked up the smell of smoke before she saw the speck of red hot ember at the end of his cigarette. Liza said, “Who is that?”

“He must be a security guard. Looks like he’s checking the equipment.”

“We gotta get out of here.” She crawled back to the sleeping bag and snatched up her clothing, piling her shoes on top. Ty pulled on his jeans and they scurried across the room to the walk-in linen closet, where they shut themselves in. They finished dressing in haste, Liza feeling so anxious she nearly wet her pants. Ty looked over at her, saying, “You okay?”

“What if he sees the truck? He’ll know someone’s here.”

Ty opened the closet door and peered around the frame. The house was dark, but she could make out his profile. So beautiful. He motioned to her and the two emerged from their hiding place. Liza listened intently but picked up no sounds of activity inside the house itself. Ty reached for her hand and the two eased over to the window and peered out again. Liza could see the swinging beam of a flashlight as the fellow walked across the road, adjusting cones as he went.

Ty said, “Let’s move it. I think we can make it to the truck before he turns around and comes back.”

They picked their way out of the room and tiptoed along the corridor until they reached the back stairs and started down. Liza nearly fell over Ty, not realizing he’d stopped to listen again. Nothing. Liza held on to his T-shirt as they passed the butler’s pantry and from there traversed the cavernous kitchen, which was bathed in soft gray light. The moon, in its last quarter, was visible through one of the kitchen windows.

Outside they race-walked across the grass to the shed. Ty felt his way down the length of the truck until he could open the driver’s-side door. Liza climbed in first and crawled across the seat to make room for him. Ty climbed in after her and slid under the wheel. He pulled the door shut without slamming it, careful not to make a sound. They sat then, scarcely daring to breathe. Ty torqued himself around, staring out the rear window at the darkened yard. The width and breadth of the house blocked all view of the front, but there was an illusion of hearing more acutely when one stared at the source.

Liza said, “Do you think we should risk it?”

“Not yet.”

Liza had a sudden thought and put a hand on his arm. “We forgot the sleeping bag!”

“Don’t worry about it. We can pick it up next time.”

“But what if he comes across it?”

Ty held a finger to his lips and they fell silent again. Ten long minutes passed and then they heard the grumbling of one of the big machines, engine grinding to life, shattering the stillness. When the racket continued, Ty took advantage of the noise to cover the starting of his truck. He backed out of the shed and crept along the service road with his headlights out.

When they cleared the house, they could see a shape as lumbering as a tank crawling in the opposite direction. Ty continued down the service road with Liza praying he wouldn’t steer them into a tree. Finally, he felt safe enough to turn on his fog lights, which provided sufficient illumination for their agonizingly slow escape.

Saturday morning, the Fourth, Liza called the Cramer house. She hoped to have a conversation with Kathy in which she could casually mention her mother’s illness to reinforce the fib. Telling the same lie more than once made it seem more real. Mrs. Cramer answered and said Kathy really wasn’t able to come to the phone. Her voice was chilly, and Liza knew Kathy had blabbed to her about their fight. “Well, would you tell her I called?”

“Of course.”

Liza didn’t see how Kathy would ever find out she was babysitting for Violet instead of staying at home with her mother as she’d claimed. Ty had begged her to let him come over to the Sullivans’ and keep her company and, of course, she’d agreed. Early in the afternoon she wandered over to Violet’s. Foley was off somewhere, and Liza was hoping she and Violet could have a heart-to-heart talk. Unfortunately, Daisy was in the bedroom, playing with her paper dolls, and it didn’t seem advisable, given the subject matter. She’d hung out for a while and then she’d gone home. She sat on the front porch in an old aluminum lawn chair, hoping Kathy would pass the house and see her there.