Page 45 of All He Takes
"I don't see anything wrong with that," Nicky said.
Harold smiled. "Not many people do."
Nicky looked around the house. It was such a quaint family home. If Harold was trying to seem normal, he was doing a damn good job of it. But still... Nicky couldn't shake that something was off with him. He was calm. Too calm.
"Do you mind if I have a moment alone with your nanny?" Nicky asked.
If the nanny came often to take care of the son while the wife was at work, then she would know if Harold left the house--giving him time to commit the murders.
Harold shrugged. "Sure. I'll go grab her and JJ."
"Thank you," Nicky said.
Harold disappeared back down the hallway and, this time, Nicky heard a door shut.
"You think he's the guy?" Ken whispered.
"I think his reaction was a little... off," Nicky whispered back. "He didn't seem at all curious or worried that we were here."
"Well, he's pretty damn nice," Ken said. "I mean, he's either the nicest guy I've ever met, or one of the best actors ever."
Nicky looked down the dark hall. She was thinking it was the latter.
Moments later, Harold emerged with an elderly woman with white hair and glasses. The woman hobbled toward the living room.
"Good evening, ma'am," Nicky said.
"Evening?" The old woman chuckled. "It's a little past that, my dear. I'm Margaret. Mr. Smith says you'd like a word with me? I can talk now, while the baby is sleeping."
"Thank you." Nicky shot Ken a look, and he nodded. Nicky left him alone with Harold in the living room, then followed Margaret into the kitchen. The kitchen was spotless, with gleaming stainless-steel appliances and sparkling countertops. Bright, moonlight-filled windows offered a view of a lush garden full of flowers and herbs. Pots of vibrant green plants hung on the walls or stood on shelves, lending a cheerful feel to the room.
Margaret adjusted her glasses as they faced each other. "Mr. Smith said you're with the FBI? What's this all about?"
"We're just covering all our bases, ma'am," Nicky said. "Nothing to be alarmed about. I did want to ask you a few questions about Mr. Smith."
"Well, okay." Margaret wrung her pale hands together.
"How long have you been working for him?"
"Only a few months now, since JJ was born," she said. "It's hard for the poor family to deal with the baby all alone sometimes. Mrs. Smith brings all the money home, but Mr. Smith has trouble sleeping, so I'm here to take the edge off a little."
"I'm sure it's been very helpful," Nicky said.
"It has," Margaret said. "I'm not very good in the kitchen, but Mr. Smith is. He makes the best meals I've ever had in my life, and we're all quite thankful for that. I'm sure you can imagine: a baby is a whole lot of work."
"I'm sure," Nicky said. "You stay here during the nights, then?"
"I do," Margaret said. "The wife goes to work around eight and comes back in the very early morning. I stay here until she comes to relieve me. It's been a lifesaver for the family."
"I see. And during the times you are here, do you ever see Mr. Smith leave the house?"
Margaret looked around for a moment, almost guiltily. She went quiet, then asked, "Is Mr. Smith in trouble?"
"Like I said," Nicky replied, "we're just covering our bases and ruling people out."
"Well, what's it about?"
"I can't classify that at this time." Nicky's patience was running thin. She understood Margaret was probably trying to be a good person, but this was life or death for the girls. "Please, Margaret, it's important that you tell us if Mr. Smith sometimes goes out at night, for any period of time at all."
