Page 19 of Skate the Line

“Oh? I wasn’t told someone was coming to relieve me of my duties.”

I smile sweetly because my nana always said that you get much further in life when you’re kind, even if you want to be a bitch.

“Yes, Mr. Volkova called me just a little while ago and asked me to head over.”

The woman eyes me cautiously. I eye her with complete skepticism. She has bleach-blonde hair that’s in desperate need of some conditioner and eyelashes that look like caterpillars.

My gut tells me there’s something weird going on, and with Rhodes’s warning of keeping him out of jail, I run with it.

I reach forward and gently pat her hand, gripping the door. “I suggest you leave before Mr. Volkova arrives.”

“And why is that?” she snaps, proving my gut right.

“Because if he gets here before you leave, he’ll end up in jail, and well…” I make a worried face. “I’m not sure where that leaves you.”

I slide my foot forward in case she tries to slam the door in my face, but she doesn’t. She appears a moment later with her purse in her hand and rushes past me, proving her guilty of something.

I don’t linger long.

I grab my suitcase and enter through the door. It’s dark inside except for a little lamp off to the side in the living room. The entryway opens up to a wide set of dark stairs that wrap around to several floors. Locking the door behind me, I slip off my shoes and start to head up the stairs.

“Hello?”

Listening carefully, I hear nothing. From the looks of the shadowy figure through the wispy curtain I’d seen while on the sidewalk, I think she’s on the second floor.

I turn to the right. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Scottie?!”

I breathe out a held breath. “I’m Sunny,” I say softly.

A light is peeking from below the crack near the floor, and I smile to myself at the pink and purple hearts taped all over the front of her door.

In an attempt not to scare her, I let her know who I am. “Your dad called and asked me to come over. Can I come in?”

My hand is on the doorknob, but I know how kids like to have some control, so I wait until she answers me.

“You can try.”

I can try?Is that a threat?

I turn the doorknob, but it doesn’t move. My fingers wrap tighter around the black knob, and I wiggle it again.

“Is it stuck?” I ask, confused.

“Locked.” Her little voice is closer, and she sounds scared. “Where is Ginny?”

“Ginny?”From Harry Potter?

If Rhodes is watching me from somewhere and thinks this is a funny test of my nanny skills, I may just head back to Washington regardless, becausereally?

“The new nanny my daddy hired. She locked me in here.”

My jaw drops.

I instantly regret letting her walk out the door without tripping her first.

“She locked you in here?” I repeat.

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