“Okay, you aren’t sleepy. That’s your prerogative.” She followed him into the living room, where he was winding his body around the fabric grocery bag that contained the last of his food. Tight finances had forced Sarah to switch to dry kibble while they were on the road. Charlie was not pleased. Had refused food for the first two days, but finally hunger had gotten the best of him.

She took out his bowls, got him water and a small handful of food. While he scarfed it down, she filled his litter box, placed it in the bathroom beside the pedestal sink. Then she washed her hands and face. As she was smoothing her hair, her burner phone pinged. She glanced at the screen. “The big boss man wants to see me,” she informed Charlie. “Wish me luck.” She slipped out the front door and locked it behind her.

In the last hour, a steady stream of people had spilled out of the main residence and tumbled into their cars. Based on the noise level, the almost manic laughter, and the unsteady gaits, many had no business being behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. Hopefully, there were designated drivers in their midst.

As she headed down the stairs at the side of the building, she noticed that the circular drive and the long driveway leading to the road was relatively empty now. When she had driven up earlier, it had been packed cheek to jowl with high-priced vehicles. As she stepped onto the driveway, a solitary holdout, a silver Jaguar convertible, roared to life. She recognized Mr. Talford’s playmates, the redhead and the blonde, who had both squeezed into the front passenger’s seat. They apparently had forgotten all about Talford. Seemed to be enamored with the diminutive, round-bellied, bald man behind the wheel. The car’s tires squealed as it tore down the drive, the breeze making the women’s hair flow behind them like in a cheesy shampoo commercial. The vehicle screeched to a halt a few moments later to wait for the automatic gates to swing open. Clearly the astronomical prices at the gas pump weren’t a concern for this trio. Once the gates were open, the car sped through and disappeared from sight.

Sarah crossed the circular drive, climbed the two low steps to stand once again at the front door. She closed her eyes, took a deep, calming breath, centering herself for what lay ahead.

“Come on in. Door’s unlocked,” Beelzebub’s voice crackled over the intercom speaker, making her jump. “Nervous much?” His disembodied voice sounded faintly amused. Sarah set her shoulders, glanced up, and saw the discreet camera overhead, trained on the doorstep. “Yep. That’s right. You’re on Candid Camera.” She was tempted to give him the finger but managed, just barely, to restrain herself.

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