The babysitter, p.1
The Babysitter, page 1
WHO ATTACKED THE BABYSITTER?
Why had the intruder come after Marissa? Was it something to do with Teddy Ryerson, or the Ryerson family as a whole? Was it something to do with there being a babysitter? That made no sense at all, but these two bookended crimes over twenty years couldn’t be completely random, could they?
No. They were too similar. A knife wielded against a babysitter at the very same house. There had to be a connection. But what? Why?
Emma . . . Jamie had wrestled all night with whether she should alert her sister to what had happened. Emma had already mentioned that she didn’t like the Ryersons. She still seemed slightly bemused by the fact that Teddy and Serena were grown and that Teddy had twins of his own.
Her gut told her not to tell Emma anything that had happened last night. But on the other hand, if Emma found out from some other source, someone who might not know her full history . . . Jamie had a vision of Emma yelling, “It’s his eyes . . . his eyes!” and inwardly shuddered....
Books by Nancy Bush
CANDY APPLE RED
ELECTRIC BLUE
ULTRAVIOLET
WICKED GAME
WICKED LIES
SOMETHING WICKED
WICKED WAYS
UNSEEN
BLIND SPOT
HUSH
NOWHERE TO RUN
NOWHERE TO HIDE
NOWHERE SAFE
SINISTER
I’LL FIND YOU
YOU CAN’T ESCAPE
YOU DON’T KNOW ME
THE KILLING GAME
DANGEROUS BEHAVIOR
OMINOUS
NO TURNING BACK
ONE LAST BREATH
JEALOUSY
BAD THINGS
LAST GIRL STANDING
THE BABYSITTER
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
THE BABYSITTER
NANCY BUSH
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
WHO ATTACKED THE BABYSITTER?
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2020 by Nancy Bush
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-5075-9
ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-5076-6 (eBook)
ISBN-10: 1-4201-5076-6 (eBook)
Chapter One
Then . . .
Jamie stuck her head under the coffee table, with its deep sides that made it damn near impossible to reach the tossed cards from the Memory Game she’d been playing with Serena and Teddy, the Ryerson twins. They were in bed for good now, God willing. The seven-year-olds had had their last drink of water, their last story, their last everything. Jamie was honestly sick of them. She’d been babysitting them for eons and she was supposed to be at the Stillwell party tonight. She’d been invited by Cooper Haynes himself. Coolest guy in school. He’d smiled at her this afternoon and asked if she was going to be there. And she was only a sophomore and wouldn’t be able to drive until the summer, but he’d specifically asked her even though he was in her sister Emma’s class.
Emma was supposed to babysit the twins tonight. Jamie had begged and begged her older sister to take over for her. She’d promised her anything. Emma had wanted to know what the big deal was. To her, the party at the Stillwells’ was just another senior get-together for her class, of which she’d been to kazillions.
But Cooper Haynes had invited her, Jamie Whelan, specifically!
“Please, please, please,” she’d begged Emma, dramatically prostrating herself on her sister’s bedroom carpet.
“Jesus, what’s the big deal? There’ll be another one,” Emma said.
Jamie would rather cut out her tongue than admit that Cooper had asked her to go. Emma would laugh or make fun of her. Emma and Cooper were friends, had once even gone together for a short time when they were in junior high. If Emma knew of Jamie’s secret, secret crush, it would be all over the school.
“I want to go to this one,” Jamie said, rising into a squat, her hands in front of her in prayer. “Just, please, Emma. Take over for me.”
“Mom won’t let you go to a senior party anyway.”
“She doesn’t have to know. And I’ll get there somehow.”
“Oh, you will?” A smile played on Emma’s lips. She was the rebel and Jamie was the good girl, as far as their mother knew. And it was true, up to a point. Jamie worked on her grades and stayed in and babysat for extra cash because the Whelan family was damn near dirt-poor since Dad had his midlife crisis and took up with that bitch with the fake boobs and big hair and houseboat on the Columbia River. Jamie and Emma had visited him exactly once and it had been an epic fail.
“What do you need from me to make this happen, Emma?” Jamie asked, rising to her feet and shifting into business mode.
“Fifty dollars.”
“What?”
“I’ve got some things to buy.” She lifted a shoulder and started to walk away.
Jamie swore a blue streak in her mind, then said quickly, “Twenty. It’s all I’ve got.”
“You’ve got scads in your savings account.”
“I’m saving for college. I’ve got thirty. Please, Emma.”
“I’ve got things to do and wouldn’t be there till nine at the earliest, so . . .”
“I’ll babysit them till nine, and you can take over.”
“I don’t know . . .” She made a face.
“Fine. I’ll get you fifty!”
“This must be really important,” Emma said, turning back to give Jamie a long look.
“I can’t be the total nerd any longer,” Jamie said, the truth popping out. Emma’s popularity was legendary and Jamie, who’d finally gotten her braces off—which had taken for-effing-ever, thank you, God—had grown her hair out from the short bob Mom had given her since she was three, and was working on matching a little bit of that popularity. “Take my place at nine and I’ll give you the fifty and all the money from tonight’s babysitting, too.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
It had taken Emma a few more agonizing moments to consider, but then she’d finally agreed. “But if I get killed, it’s on you,” she said.
“Yeah, yeah.”
She was referring to the two babysitters who’d been attacked that summer, one in Vancouver, apparently the victim of a masked robber who’d stabbed her during his getaway, and the other falling from a rooftop deck in Gresham, where she’d supposedly been trying to meet her boyfriend. Neither of those places was close to their River Glen neighborhood, a suburb of Portland’s westside.
Now it was eight forty-six. Jamie had checked the Ryersons’ mantel clock before ducking under the table. About fifteen minutes to go. She had a brush in her purse to fix her hair and some lipstick and mascara. The Stillwell house, really an estate, was only about twenty blocks north of the Ryersons’, down a long, hedged driveway so the neighbors, noise, and cops wouldn’t be aware of the party, fingers crossed.
As Jamie started to slide out from under the table, a shadowy figure standing to one side caused her to shriek and smack her head on the table’s underside.
“Shii—ouch!” She just managed to stop herself from swearing a blue streak when she saw it was Serena standing there in a pale nightgown. “Serena. What are you doing up?”
Jamie shimmied out from under the table and stood up, rubbing her head. Irked, she frowned down at the little girl.
“I had a dream that I was dying.”
“Oh, honey.” Jamie’s annoyance dissipated, and she gently put her hands on the girl’s shoulders, turned her around, and slowly marched her back to bed. “You’re fine. Your mom and dad are going to be back soon. Just try to sleep.”
“Is your friend coming?” Her voice wavered.
Jamie had told the twins that Emma might spell her and not to be scared if they woke up to find her there instead of Jamie. “My sister. You’ve had her babysit you before.”
“I want Mommy,” she sobbed, clinging to Jamie’s leg.
“Don’t be a baby.” Teddy’s voice rang from down the hallway to his sister’s room, which made Serena cry even harder.
It took Jamie till after nine to calm Serena down and get Teddy, who hadn’t wanted to give up chastising Serena, back to bed. Their mother had assured Jamie that the twins would sleep soundly because they’d been to the Oaks Park amusement center for the day and ridden on all the rides. Nadine Ryerson had said, “Don’t worry, they’ll sleep like the dead.”
Ha.
Jamie half-expected one or the other or both of the twins to get up again, but they seemed to have finally settled down for good. But then, where was Emma? She was late. And because neither Jamie nor Emma owned a cell phone—they were too expensive and Mom didn’t trust that they wouldn’t lose them—Jamie was stuck waiting for her sister to show up. She paced the living room floor, her eyes on the clock above the stone mantel. It felt like the minute hand wasn’t moving at all.
Where the hell was she?
At nine-thirty Emma finally appeared, knocking on the door so loudly, Jamie flew to answer it in a panic. “Don’t wake the kids!” she shushed angrily.
Emma just pushed her way inside. “You’re lucky I’m here at all,” she declared, nearly running into Jamie in the process.
“Are you drunk?” Jamie demanded, panicked.
“No. God, no. I’m just . . . pissed.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Go on to your party. I had to walk from there and it’s a long, long way. You owe me. More than what you said.”
“Whatever.” Jamie was out the door in a flash.
It turned out Emma was right. The twenty blocks or so, half of them up Stillwell Hill, to reach the entrance to the Stillwell estate, felt like forever. Her steps slowed as she climbed to the crest, her steps slowing even further as she headed across the last few yards to the wrought-iron gate set between towering laurel hedges. The gate was open, but now that she was here, she was reluctant to step foot on the ribbon of tarmac that led to the house. She could see lights at the end of that long drive, but suddenly she felt naked and alone. She desperately needed a girlfriend to be with her, Camryn or Rosie, but their parents would never let them attend an unsupervised senior party either. Maybe Gwen, whose Mom and Dad were like hippies or something and not as concerned with keeping tabs on their daughter’s every move, but Gwen was a weirdo and not a real friend anyway.
Jamie hovered by the main road, loathe to walk between the hedges. Now that she was here, she felt like the uninvited. Cooper was the only one who’d really asked her to come, and what if he wasn’t here? She should have asked Emma about him, but that would have given the game away, and Emma would know and tease her mercilessly and probably tell Cooper to boot, so that was a no-go.
What to do . . . ?
The answer was taken away from her when she heard the roar of a sparking engine and saw car taillights flash red far ahead. A car was backing out and turning toward her. Moments later, a dark blue Mustang, Race Stillwell’s car, came right at her, headlights blinding. She would have melted into the hedges if she’d been able, but as it was, she was pinned in the twin beams, frozen like a deer.
The Mustang’s engine rumbled beside her. The passenger window rolled down, and Dug Douglas threw out a cigarette butt. It was late October, dry as a bone, and Jamie immediately stamped out the ember even though it had landed on the asphalt.
“What’re yer doin’?” Dug slurred.
A million excuses raced across Jamie’s brain, but in the moment, she just said, “Walking.”
“Go on up to the party,” Race said, leaning past Dug to get a hard look at her. “Who’re you?”
“Emma’s sister. Jamie.”
“Well, there’s booze up there. Help yourself. We gotta little thing to do,” Race said. “Later.”
And then they pulled onto the street and roared away.
Jamie trudged the rest of the way toward the house. SUVs, sedans, and one or two minivans that had to be parents’ cars were parked along the drive. She heard the thump of music from outside, the bass resonating inside her, as she let herself in the front door. Kids were standing around holding red Solo cups full of drinks. They eyed her as she walked by, into the kitchen. All her desire to attend, the raging torrent that had been building inside her ever since Cooper asked if she was going, was leaching away, and she was almost embarrassed to be there. For hours, all she’d thought about was being at this party. Now all she wanted to do was turn tail and leave.
But not before finding out where Cooper was.
“Beer?” a guy in the class ahead of her, Ken somebody, asked. He was standing by the keg, leaning an elbow on the counter.
“Sure.”
It was a relief to be treated as if she had a right to be there.
He straightened to pour her a foamy capped cup of beer. She accepted it and stood to one side for a few moments. Icky Vicky, one of the girls in Emma’s friend group, was making out with her boyfriend in the corner by the back windows. His hands were running all over her and she was riding his thigh. There was a lot of heavy breathing, smacking noises, and moaning.
Half-embarrassed, Jamie sidled out of the kitchen and up some back stairs, hoping Vicky wouldn’t notice her. If Vicky recognized Jamie, she’d probably make a big deal of it, because she was fierce about keeping the line separated between grades. She’d pretty much slept with all the senior guys when she was a sophomore and had been excoriated by all the senior girls for poaching, so she wasn’t about to let any underclassmen get away with what she already had.
Jamie wandered the second floor, looking for Cooper, then went back downstairs and checked out all the rooms down there as well.
“Looking for something?” It was Race’s younger brother, Deon. He was a junior, one year behind Race. And he was smaller and meaner and looking at Jamie with cold suspicion.
“I was hoping Gwen was here. Gwen Winkelman?”
“Don’t know her.”
Of course he did. Everybody knew Gwen. She’d made a name for herself by reading fortunes and selling crystals. Normally, Jamie steered clear of her one-time grade school friend because she was so odd, but now she was desperate to make a connection.
“I don’t see her,” Jamie said, moving away. She yelped in surprise when his hand shot out and he dragged her to him. His other hand went right to her crotch. “Hey!” she snapped, immediately grabbing that hand and flinging it away from herself.
“Babe, you asked for it.” He leered, white teeth gleaming.
She wrenched herself out of his grasp and practically ran out the front door, shaken. No Cooper. She stood at the front of the house, drew several deep breaths, then looked up at the white, three-quarter moon. October 21, or maybe 22 by now, and all she wanted to do was be home in bed.
And then Gwen suddenly appeared. Running up the driveway, laughing, her long, brown braid swinging behind her, a guy chasing her whom Jamie didn’t immediately recognize. “Hey, Jamie!” she said in surprise and delight. “What’re you doing here?”
Now she saw the guy was their classmate, Nathan Farland, and he said, “Where are your books? There must be some test to study for.”
“Shut up,” Gwen said good-naturedly. “Jamie doesn’t study all the time.” She grabbed Jamie’s arm to propel her back inside. “What’re you having? Beer? Nah. Let’s have some vodka. Nate’s got some.”
