Newton Neighbors (New England Trilogy) (5 page)

Chapter Three

No Need for Alarm

Back at Crystal Lake, Jessie was happy she had everything under control. When she first met Maria, the woman had implied Alice would be a handful. It sure hadn’t turned out that way. Jessie thought the little girl was a cutie and an easy baby to care for. With just a few cuddles and one peekaboo game, Alice had been ready for a diaper change and a full bottle of milk before settling back into her crib. She’d fallen asleep before the Incy Wincy Spider was anywhere near the top of the garden spout.

Now the house was quiet. Orga was back inside and seemed to be calmer, and Cody was still out with this friend, so it looked like Jessie was going to have an easy night. With the house so peaceful, she realized there was a good chance she could get some homework done. She headed to the kitchen to find the teapot. Maria had told her to make herself at home, and she always liked a cup of tea next to her while she studied. While she waited for the water to boil, she found the note with their cell phone numbers and added Rick to her contacts. Just then she heard the front door slam followed by the thundering feet of Cody and Todd as they came bounding into the room.
 

“Did Mitch Jackson toast us again, Jessie?” He stood legs apart, fists clenched, ready for war.

She wanted to laugh at his anxious little face but knew better. For him, this was serious business. “Not only have we not been toasted, we haven’t even been ghosted. I was rather looking forward to that,” she said. “Now tell me—where would I find a mug?”

Cody went to the cupboard above the dishwasher. “We just toasted him, but I have a feeling he saw us. We’re waiting for a counterattack.” He took out a coffee mug and put it on the counter beside her just as the doorbell rang.
 

The boys tore off, and she followed them in time to witness Todd racing for the road to see if he could catch who had rung and run.
 

Meanwhile, Cody was checking out the contents of the little brown bag on their doorstep. He slapped his forehead in anguish. “Aw, man, I told you he saw us,” he said, showing her the burnt toast in the bag.
 

Jessie felt his pain. Clearly this was war. Todd returned looking deflated.

“Come in,” she said, getting into the spirit of things. “He could be watching us at this very minute, and you guys don’t want to be seen like this. We have to talk strategies.”

She could see that was music to the boys’ ears.
 

“You could be an ally for our side,” Todd said.

Soon the three of them were standing around the island in the kitchen. Jessie reckoned the smooth marble countertop was the perfect place to lay out a large sheet of paper and draw a map of the neighboring houses. The boys got her paper, sharpies, and a ruler while she got herself the mug of tea. Then they watched transfixed as she began to sketch a rough map of the street. Jessie knew there was a lake behind them, but since she hadn’t seen it yet, the boys took her into the dining room to look out over the back of the house.
 

That was the first time Jessie saw Crystal Lake. It was dark out, but that didn’t matter. The view was hypnotic. She’d walked through the dining room with Rick earlier on her tour of the first floor of the house, but somehow she’d missed the incredible view outside.
 

The backyard of the Sanchez house stretched back about seventy feet, and beyond that was a low cut hedge. Without a doubt, the shrubs were cut back to see the lake because it was so pretty. The night was still and so the water was, too. It looked like a sheet of black glass spreading out across . . . she didn’t know how far, but she could see the homes on the other side, the buttermilk-yellow light of their little windows mirrored on the water. Jessie wondered if, across the lake, the Sanchez house looked as appealing to them as those buildings did to her. The night sky was clear, and the moon reflected on the lake like a picture in a children’s story book.
 

Funny it’s called Crystal Lake
, she mused.
It looks so dark—like jade or ebony—but not something bright and illuminating like crystal.
She thought of her mother’s precious crystal vase collection at home. Wedding presents from years ago. She should phone her mother soon.

“We’re not allowed to go down to the lake at night.” Cody cut into her thoughts.

Jessie swung around. “I should think not. It could be very dangerous. Are you okay in the back garden if you stay away from the water?”

He nodded.

“Righty ho, men. Let’s plan your attack strategy,” she said in her best British army voice and marched back into the kitchen.

“Check,” Todd said.
 

“I know what can help us.” Cody rushed out of the room.
 

Todd and Jessie only had to wait a moment before he reappeared with the iPad. “Google Maps,” he said with satisfaction.

“Gotta hand it to you, kid—you’re a good cadet.” She laughed, and with the aid of the tablet, she had a pretty good map of Crystal Lake Lane done in minutes.
 

The young men settled down to talk tactics. It didn’t take them long to decide to go behind Mrs. Palmer’s, the house next to them. She wouldn’t mind. Then they’d cut across the front of number eleven, and finally they could swing around behind Mitch’s house—number thirteen.

“Approaching from the rear gives you the element of surprise,” Jessie said. “But nowhere near the lake. Deal?”

The boys high-fived each other and cheered. Cody was in charge of making a fresh batch of toast.

“It has to be really black this time. The burnter the better.” Todd was insistent.

Jessie left them to it, and taking her mug of half-drunk tea, she went back to the dining room window. The view of the lake was calling her. She could see the attraction of the neighborhood. There was no question a house like this would be expensive, but it was worth it, in her estimation. The peaceful feeling it evoked in her was enchanting, hypnotic, magical.
 

There were no lakes around Dorking, where she lived in the UK, so if she wanted a sea view, she had to head to the English coast. It had never occurred to her when she’d arrived in Newton, Massachusetts, that she’d get a lake view. If she lived in this house, Jessie knew she’d spend hours just gazing at the water.
Would that be a terrible waste of time or a life well-spent?

The smooth surface of the water had a calming effect on her. Surely that was a good thing. Jessie put her mug down on the table and folded her arms. Just to stand there and watch the water was cathartic. Why was that? Was it primal or psychological? What was the appeal? It was worth discussing with one of her professors.
 

In a heartbeat, all hell broke loose, and the peace was shattered by a deafening screech. The volume was absurd. Jessie ran to the boys and found them in a cloud of burnt-toast smoke. Cody looked guilty and panicked in equal measure.

“What the heck?” she yelled, but shouting was useless over the noise. “Must be the fire alarm, with all the smoke in here!”
 

It was much louder than it needed to be, and she was pretty sure the damage being done to their eardrums was worse than any smoke damage to the beautiful cream-colored kitchen. The black toast had popped out of the toaster, and there was no real danger to the children or the house.

“You guys, get out into the front garden and take Orga with you. Don’t move from there. I’ll get Alice.” She yelled as much as she could, but she used hand signals, too. The boys nodded and ran out the front door with the dog.
 

Jessie took the stairs two at a time, but even at that speed, by the time she got to the baby, Alice was crying. She couldn’t hear the baby over the noise of the fire alarm, but she could see Alice’s tiny fists closed tight and her little chest heaving with sobs. Jessie scooped her up and grabbed a blanket from the crib.
 

Bounding down the stairs, between one shrill from the alarm and the next, she heard the house phone ringing. Perhaps it was Maria. She knew some alarm systems were connected to the house owner’s cell phone. Maria would tell her what to do. As Jessie fled the house, she snatched the portable telephone and then swept out the door with Alice in one arm.
 

The boys were standing in the front garden with Orga cowering beside them, and they’d been joined by Mitch Jackson. Jessie knew from the boys’ perspective this was way cooler than toasting. She felt a little better now that they were all safe and out of the house, but the noise was still very upsetting.

She answered the ringing phone in her hand. “Hullo.”

“Good evening, ma’am. This is the fire department. Your alarm has been activated. Can you apprise me of the situation?”

Jessie was a little intimidated by the efficiency of the woman on the other end. Her voice sounded officious—almost aggressive.

“Um, yes. It was the family toaster,” she said. “No harm done. I just don’t know how to switch the alarm off.”

“A toaster? Is that what you said?”

“Yes, just a toaster. It’s fine, really. In fact there’s no fire. It’s all just smoke.”

She heard the woman talking to somebody else. There was a crackle on the line, and it was difficult to focus with Alice crying in her arms and the blaring noise just twenty feet away. Jessie tried to listen to the phone conversation.
 

“Confirming, Unit One. It’s a domestic toaster at Crystal Lake.” Then she sounded like she was talking to Jessie again.

“Ma’am, is everybody out of the building?”

“Yes, yes. Everything’s okay, honest. I don’t know how to switch off the alarm. That’s the main problem here.”

“You need the fire alarm code for that, ma’am. Without the code, the alarm will keep ringing. There’s a unit on its way to assist.”

“A unit of what?” Jessie asked. Back in England, they measured alcohol in units. Maybe she was sending around a gin and tonic. That would be nice.
The only other thing she knew measured in units was blood, which she didn’t think was really necessary.
 

“Look, I’m just the sitter. I have a ten-year-old and the baby with me. If I just go in and get the ruddy toaster, I can bring it out here. That might shut the stupid alarm off.”

The lady on the phone interrupted. “Did you say you have an infant with you, ma’am?”

“Yes, but she’s out here in the garden with me.”

The lady was talking to somebody else again. “Unit Two, there are two, repeat two, children at the scene. A ten-year-old and an infant. The sitter is outside in the front yard.”

“A second unit? Are we talking double G and Ts?” She gave a nervous laugh. The truth was beginning to dawn, however. Her mystery phone woman was probably talking to fire engines.

Jessie became anxious. “Look, we don’t need any help. I just need the alarm to be switched off. It might switch itself off if I get the toaster out.” She felt more panicky now. The appalling noise of the house alarm was very jarring, and Alice was still crying.

“Do not reenter the building, ma’am. I repeat, do not reenter the building.” Then the voice down the phone spoke to the others. “Unit One, step on it. We have a potentially escalating situation at Crystal Lake.”

Jessie cut in. “I can hear you, and I’m not an escalating situation!” she shouted. “Just switch off the damn alarm, and I’ll calm down.”

“You need to have the code for that, ma’am.” There was no emotion in the dispatcher’s voice, no panic, and this unnerved Jessie even more.
 

“Look, you keep repeating the fact I need a dumb code, which I clearly don’t have, because if I did, the ruddy alarm wouldn’t still be screeching. Can you understand me?” Jessie knew she shouldn’t yell, and she wanted to sound in control, but it was too late. “I don’t have the code. I’m the minder.”

Then she thought about her cell phone. She should phone Maria and get the code herself. She would switch the mad noise off and everybody could get back to normal.
 

That was when the enormous red fire engine truck arrived. A police car escorted it—lights flashing on both vehicles and sirens shrilling in perfect disharmony. The already earsplitting noise level in the neighborhood doubled. Jessie took Cody by the hand, and with Alice still screaming in her arms, they all backed away as a herd of hardy firefighters took over.
 

Jessie watched in disbelief as two men started unrolling the enormous water hose from their truck. Two others ran into the house and opened all the windows, and two more sectioned off a part of the front yard with hi-vis tape. It reminded her of
CSI
, because the taped area was usually the place where the dead body was buried.
Hopefully not today
, she thought—although she did love
CSI
.
 

Expecting one of her heroes from the television show to appear any second, she watched two more men, clad in canary-yellow moon suits, walk through the yard and enter the house. They had the full-inferno fire-protection kit on—the oversized yellow hood with fireproof glass to cover the face, enormous heat-resistant coats, matching trousers, and finally those big boots they could walk across the sun in. After a few moments, they came out carrying the tiny toaster between them. The little machine had long since given up smoking and completely cooled down, but it looked like they were taking no chances.