Amy Maxwell & the 7 Deadly Sins (The Amy Maxwell Series Book 2) (13 page)

“How would I know where your child was and who was picking her up?” Claudia holds her hand in front of her, examining her perfectly manicured nails. “I would just assume that
you
were picking up your own child. I mean, where
else
would you be?” She glances up at my sister, anger flashing in her already dark eyes. Oh, she has wrath alright, and plenty of it. And she is on her way to outsmarting my sister.

Beth thinks she is effectively avoiding the question when she shouts, “You know where Jillian was because I told Kevin. You must have been listening to-” My sister, the picture of grace and refinement, snorts as she clamps her hand over her mouth. She fell right into Claudia’s fox trap. Ha ha…see what I did there?

Claudia raises her eyebrows with mock confusion as she leans casually against the door jam. “But I don’t understand, Beth,” she croons sweetly. “Why would you ever be talking to Kevin? He’s a very busy man. He doesn’t have time to
socialize
with moms at his child’s school.”

Beth is a deep shade of scarlet that matches her mohair trench coat. “We were, um, discussing PTA stuff,” she mumbles.

Claudia waggles a finger at her playfully. “Oh, I don’t think so there Mrs. Phillips-Katz. Kevin doesn’t have a clue about PTA matters. In fact, I’m pretty certain that he doesn’t even know what PTA
stands
for.” She pushes her body off of the door frame and shakes her head. “Really, I would have thought you would have come up with a better lie than
that
when you’re screwing my husband.”

I can hear Beth’s sharp intake of breath. She knows she has been outsmarted. Flustered, she says, “Just bring Jillian here so I can take her home.”

Claudia shakes her head. “I don’t think so. It’s not that easy, Beth.”

Beth sighs with exasperation and closes her eyes. I wonder if she’s trying to prevent herself from crying in front of her nemesis. “
Fine.
What do you want?”

A vicious grin appears on Claudia’s plump crimson lips. She taps her finger against those lips, feigning deep thought. “I should like it if you would stop fucking my husband. That’s a good start.”

I gasp, half expecting Beth to faint dead away from such foul language. I glance at her, but I can’t read her expression as she still has her eyes closed. I wait with baited breath, wondering how she will respond to the accusation.

“Fine,” Beth finally remarks and I let out all the air that has been trapped in my lungs.

“Oh, and I want you to say it,” Claudia counters smugly.

“Say
what
?” Beth adds, voice wavering.

“Say,
I will stop fucking your husband
,” Claudia replies. “Those exact words. I want to hear them come out of your mouth.”

I gasp once more. Claudia must know my sister doesn’t curse at all. She’d rather die than say
crap
. There’s no way she going to…

“Fine.” Beth juts out her chin and stands up taller. “I will stop…
fucking
your husband,” she manages to spit out.

My head swivels toward my sister and I hold my arms out to catch her in case she faints.
Wow, she really must love Jillian if she’s willing to not only admit to such an egregious wrong doing, but to curse in the process.

That self-righteous smile is still on Claudia’s lips, but now the rage in her eyes is nearly burning her dark chocolate brown eyeballs out. “Well, I wish I could help you out, but Jillian is not here.” With a shrug, she swivels on her Jimmy Choo clad heels and ducks behind the door, pushing it closed.

Beth, nearly catatonic from her confession and use of vulgarity, cannot seem to move, but I am quick to react. I stick my foot in the closing door before Claudia has a chance to shut it.

“Hey! What about Jillian?” I ask with annoyance.

“I told you, I don’t have Jillian,” Claudia retorts while shoving her body against the door. I feel my foot folding under the pressure of the heavy wood, yet I still don’t give in.

“Ok, ok, we get it,” I groan, wedging my body in the doorway. “You’re pissed off. I’d be pissed too, if Beth slept with my husband.”

Beth suddenly springs to life. “Oh geez, Amy!
Roger
? Bad imagery! Bleech!” Beth moans as she squeezes in the doorway next to me.

“Oh, screw you,” I snap at her. “Just because Derek is
perfect
doesn’t give you the right to judge other people’s husbands.”

“Well, I…I wasn’t…” Beth stammers.

I whirl around and confront her, poking my finger in her face. “You most certainly were. You
always
are. You constantly make digs about my less than perfect life. But if yours was so perfect, why did you need to cheat on Derek?”

“I…I…” Beth’s mouth opens and closes like a guppy in a tank.

“Ladies, I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the premises immediately. Take your petty little argument somewhere else.” Claudia remarks with a scowl. “Do I have to call the police?”

“Yes!” I respond at the same time that Beth shouts, “No!”

“We’re not leaving without Jillian,” I tell Claudia, who proceeds to roll her eyes and suck on her teeth with annoyance.

“Are you
slow
? How many times do you need to be told? Jillian is
not
here.” Catching us completely off guard, she shoves us out the front door and slams it in our faces in one swift motion.

“What the…” Beth is dumbfounded.

“Hey!” I bang on the front door with my balled up fists. “Hey! Open the door!” I continue to thump on the heavy door until the palms of my hands burn. “Jesus,” I mutter as I turn around, rubbing my hands angrily. “Son of a bitch.”

“Jillian’s
really
not there? I was
certain
that she had her. What happened to my baby?” I hear Beth whimper in a soft, child-like voice. I can see her in the faint light of the porch, quivering lips and eyes glistening. Without warning, tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

Beth finally comprehends the severity of this situation. Either Claudia has Jillian and won’t admit it, or someone else has kidnapped her daughter. In either situation, it’s time to involve the police and Beth can’t deny that any more.

“Oh my God, Amy,” she moans as she grips my hand. “What are we going to do? Somebody has my baby!” She shakes my arm furiously as her nails dig into my skin, cutting me even through the fabric of my heavy sweatshirt.

“We’re going to do what we should have done an hour ago. Call the police,” I tell her, the voice of reason. She can’t possibly deny that the police need to be involved now, can she?

“No! Not yet!” Beth answers, turning sharply on her heel and retreating down the front stairs at a rapid pace.

“Wait a minute! What are you talking about?” I wail as I rush to catch up with her. “We need to call the police
now
, Beth!”

We reach the bottom of the steps and I am huffing and puffing. I click the car door open and climb into the driver’s side while Beth climbs into the passenger seat. “Ok, so are you going to call the police
now
?” Seriously if we were playing a drinking game where I took a shot every time I said
police
, I’d have alcohol poisoning by now.

“Just drive,” Beth says impatiently with a dismissive wave. I start the car and roll toward the end of the driveway. As the gate swings open and I pull into the street, Beth grabs her purse, opens the door, leaps from the car, and slams the door shut. All before I can even blink.

“What the hell?”

Beth is dashing back up the driveway, but crouching down alongside the bushes. “God damn it!” I yell as I throw the car into park. I proceed to kill the engine, grab my keys, and reach for my cell phone in the console as an afterthought.

As I am closing the car door, I can see that the gate is shutting. “Shit!” I dash toward the gate, while tucking my phone in my bra, and manage to slip in between the panels just as it shuts. It actually pinches a piece of my fleshy muffin top in the process. If Beth hadn’t been slinking along the driveway I am certain she would have made a comment about my weight.

I am seriously drenched in perspiration by the time I reach my sister. I think it’s a combination of fear and physical exertion. Beth, of course, has barely broken a sweat. She is now peering into the bushes lining the walkway around the side of the house.

“What are you doing?” I pant. “Why would you leap out of the car like that? If you wanted to look in the bushes, why couldn’t you do that
before
we got in the car?” I crane my neck to get a glimpse of the car parked on the street. It is dark and hidden behind a gigantic bush on the front of the property, making it difficult to see. “And now my car is on the other side of the gate and we are on this side!”

Beth turns to me and rolls her eyes as she scoffs, “Really, Amy? I thought you were the hot shot criminal justice major in the family.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” I am offended as usual by Beth’s comments and biting tone.

“It means that
Claudia
will see that the car is gone and she will think
we
have left. And now, we can sneak around the side of the house and look in the windows to see where she is hiding Jillian.”

I gawk at my sister with my mouth hanging open. My gaze moves from her face to the second story windows, high above the ground. I am certainly not scaling the house to peek into those.

“I think that’s a terrible idea. I have a better idea! Let’s go back to the car and call the police!” I chirp in my perky voice that I use when I am trying to get Colt to eat his vegetables. 

Beth shakes her head and stares into the bushes as if she hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. “Look!” She points to the ground behind the bushes. “There’s a path here that wraps around the house.”

I tilt my head and stare at her like she is a deranged mental patient. “That’s nice, but we really ought to not be worrying about paths that wrap around the house. We should be calling the police.” I am now speaking to her in a tone I would reserve for aforementioned deranged mental patients. Running through my head is the statistic about kidnapped children and the first twelve hours being the most crucial. Jillian may be running out of time already and Beth is more concerned with playing Peeping Tom.

“Um, hmmm,” Beth mutters absently while throwing her leg over the side of the low retaining wall.

“Beth!” I hiss. “Will you come back here
please
?”

Beth ignores me and jumps down onto the path. She pushes aside a large bush that is blocking the route and turns to me. “Are you coming or not?”

I glance around at my surroundings. If I stay here, Claudia is definitely going to catch me. I see the blinking eye of the security camera by the door making its sweep of the front of the property. The only thing out of its sight is the path.

Sighing, I throw my own leg over the wall and hop down onto the pathway with a thud. Beth turns and pushes her finger against her lips. “Shhh! We need to be absolutely quiet,” she admonishes. When she turns her back, I resist the urge to push her in the puddle of mud on the grass.

As we slink along the side of the mansion in the darkness, I am praying that A., there are no motion sensor lights set up to bathe us unexpectedly in a spotlight, and B., there are no wild animals in this neighborhood, like bears…or skunks. Because being doused with skunk scent would really cap my day off.

“Ouch,” I feel something sharp prick the side of my leg while I am contemplating the dangers of the backyards creatures.

“Shhh!” Beth reiterates as we crouch closer to the window.

“I just got stabbed with a stick. I think I may be bleeding. And maybe it wasn’t a stick. Maybe it was something metal. I don’t think I’ve had a tetanus shot lately.”

I try to think back to my last tetanus shot.
Hmmm
. I remember Roger getting one when he joined that over 40 softball league. He ended up face planting into a rusty chain link fence while trying to be the hero and catch a foul ball. That was a few years back, but for the life of me, I can’t quite remember when
I
last got one. Great. I’m going to die of tetanus.

“Who cares? We really need to be quiet now,” Beth whispers as she steps off the path to get closer to the window. “
Look
!”

My eyes follow her finger to the window. It is open a crack and even at five foot three inches tall, I can see into the room. Well, a midget would be able to see into the room; there are floor to ceiling windows, the kind that always seem like a good idea in theory, but would probably be a pain in the ass to clean. Not that
Claudia Fox
needs to worry about cleaning her own windows. I’m sure she has a maid whose sole purpose is to clean windows.

As I peer into the window, I notice that this room is an office of some type. Or a library. Or a study. Or whatever rich people have in their house to do paperwork and read. Because of course, they need a separate room to do all those things.