Kevin O'Brien - Disturbed

Standing by her car, parked in front of Windmill Antiques & Miniatures, Molly spoke into her cell phone. “Yes, thanks, Peter, I’m feeling much better than I did yesterday,” she said to Jeff’s assistant. Her hair fluttered in the chilly, seaside breeze. “Anyway, the reason I’m calling is about a month ago, Jeff had something delivered to the office from an antique store in La Conner. I was wondering if you remember him forwarding it to someone else. . ”

“Let me check,” he said. “Just a sec, Molly. Can you hold on?”

“Sure, thanks, Pete.” While she waited, Molly glanced at her wristwatch: 11:55. She hadn’t heard from Rachel yet. It made her nervous to think Rachel was the only person home on the cul-de-sac.

“Molly?” Peter got back on the line.

“Yes, I’m here,” she said anxiously.

“There’s a UPS package in the closet in his office. Windmill Antiques and Miniatures, is that the one?”

“Yes,” she said. “Could you — could you set it aside for me? I’d like to pick it up this afternoon.”

“They’ve got me running around all over the place today. So I’ll leave the package with the receptionist — just in case you miss me. And by the way, we should get together early next week so you can go through Jeff’s office. Jeff has a lot of his personal things here.”

“Of course,” she said. “Thanks, Pete.”

“Well, if I don’t catch you this afternoon, Molly, I know I told you this before, but I–I really liked working for Jeff.” His voice had a tremor in it. “I’m going to miss him. . ”

“Thanks, Pete,” she said again. “Don’t make me cry, okay? And don’t you start crying, either.”

She heard him blow his nose. “Too late,” he murmured. “Take care, Molly.”

When she clicked off the line, she reached into her purse for some Kleenex. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. The bag from the antique store slipped out of her hand.

After having put that poor salesman through the paces, she couldn’t walk away without buying something. So she’d bought one of the same miniatures Jeff’s mistress had purchased.

The doll that looked like her had spilled out of the bag. Swiping it off the pavement, Molly stuffed it back in the bag, opened her car door, and set the bag on the passenger seat. It was strange the woman had bought dolls of her and Chris. And clearly, she picked the miniature grandfather clock and breakfast table set after the ones in the family room. That meant this woman had been inside the house.

Molly shuddered and buttoned the top of her pea jacket. Then she took out her cell phone and made another call, this time to Rachel.

But it rang and rang — until the machine clicked on. Molly impatiently listened to the greeting and waited for the beep.

“Rachel, are you there?” she said. “It’s me, Molly. Can you pick up? I thought for sure you’d be home. Now, I’m kind of worried. Rachel? Are you there?”

She opened the front door and heard Molly leaving a message on the answering machine. But there was another sound that stopped her just past the threshold. A strange, splintering noise came from down in the basement.

Molly was still talking, asking if she was home.

She quietly set her groceries down in the front hallway, and then crept toward the kitchen. She noticed the back door was ajar — and a few drawers had been left open. She went to the cabinet, and from behind a box of Frosted Flakes, she took out a handgun.

At last, Molly shut up and clicked off the line. The message machine let out a beep, signifying the message had been recorded. The splintering noise continued downstairs, and then she heard a snap, and something clattered. It sounded like a metal piece hitting the floor.

She edged toward the open basement door and saw the light on down there.

She set the gun on the counter and pried off her shoes. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Picking up the gun again, she started to tiptoe down the basement steps.

For a minute, Natalie had thought she’d heard the front door. But it must have been some background noise from wherever Molly Dennehy was leaving her message. Natalie paused for a few seconds, listened carefully, and then went back to manipulating the padlock with the crowbar.

She knew she was pushing her luck. Rachel could be back at any minute. It was risky to stay here. She’d gotten enough with the jewelry and the blank checks. And yet, she just had to see if there was something really valuable behind this basement door.

People on crystal meth could be pretty reckless at times.

She couldn’t help it. This was an addiction, a disease. It wasn’t her fault. She’d started out trying it to lose weight — and for a bit of a thrill. And now she’d gone through all her money, lost her job, and gotten kicked out of her apartment.

Todd hadn’t known her situation when she’d gone with him on one of the few occasions he actually checked the Nguyens’ house for them. They’d walked around the house, made sure no one had tried to break in, watered the houseplants, and cleaned up the yard a little. For months and months, he’d been giving the key to one friend or another and having them check the place for him. Natalie couldn’t believe none of the guys had ever ripped off the Nguyens. She’d volunteered to check the house for Todd every week on a semi-permanent basis. Then she’d had her own copy of the house key made. The stupid slacker, Todd, he didn’t even realize she’d moved in.

It had been a perfect setup. The house had been full of so many things she hocked for drug money. Her dealer stayed with her there for a while, and she even turned some tricks there — all on this squeaky-clean family block.

But the funny thing was that two of her neighbors’ husbands had gotten caught with drugs in hotel rooms, where they’d had illicit sexual trysts.

Natalie had kept to herself — mostly to discourage neighbors from dropping by. But yesterday, she’d let Jill from next door talk her into attending the Dennehy funeral. It had gone on and on, and after shaking Molly’s hand, she couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. She’d driven up to Everett to party for the evening. Then she got the call from Todd.

He was wise to her now. That bitch Molly must have said something, because she’d left him a message at just about the same time Mrs. Nguyen had phoned, asking if a woman was living in her house.

So her plan for today had been to return to the Nguyens, quickly pack up her stuff, and then disappear. She was taking a big chance lingering here in Rachel’s. But she almost had the lock pried off the door. It was so loose that she could feel the screws wobbling. A crack in the wood had formed under the latch. With a grimace, she gave it one more forceful tug.

The latch mechanism suddenly flew off the edge of the door. It hit the basement floor with a clatter. Gasping, Natalie staggered back and laughed. The door creaked as she opened it. Setting the crowbar on the worktable, she stepped into the dark room and felt around by the door for a light switch. She found it and flicked it on. The bright, fluorescent overhead sputtered for a second, and then went on. It hummed quietly.

Natalie stared into the windowless room at what looked like a Ping-Pong table — covered with a huge white sheet. There seemed to be several different-sized boxes stacked and spaced about a foot from each other beneath the coverlet. Natalie carefully pulled off the sheet and gaped at a replica of Willow Tree Court, all made up of dollhouses and fake trees and foliage. The Nguyens’ house and Jill’s place were a bit smaller and not quite up to scale with the others. Walking around the table, she could see those two houses were just hollow facades — like the mock-ups of the unfinished houses on the cul-de-sac.