Katie had been the last person on the bus. She hadn't expected that. She knew Willow Grove was a small town—she had looked it up even before coming here. She'd even been here once. But she had been a small child then, excited and scared that she and her mom were picking up Grandma to come and live with them after Daddy was gone. She hadn't paid much attention to the town.

Even so, Katie had thought more people would be coming and going from the place. She didn't expect to spend the last thirty minutes of the trip with only the bus driver for company. And he wasn't much company, at that. When she'd told him she was going to Willow Manor for work, he'd shook his head and laughed humorlessly. "Good luck."

Any other efforts at conversation were wasted on his grunts and sighs. When the bus pulled into the small, dark terminal in the downtown area he turned to her before opening the door. "You sure you want to do this?"

"What do you mean?" Katie stood on the top step, clutching her purse to her side. "What's wrong with Willow Manor?"

"Nothing." He opened the door. "If you can sleep with your eyes open."

Katie frowned and stepped down from the bus to the sidewalk. She turned as the bus driver followed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He grunted and walked down the side of the bus to the luggage compartment. "Don't mean nothing."

"It means something, or you wouldn't have said it." She followed him. "Is there something I should know about?"

"Just rumors." He pulled her two suitcases from the bus and shut the door. "I hear things, driving in and out of this place."

"What kind of rumors?" She followed him back to the front of the bus. "You can't ignore me the whole trip and then, when I'm finally at my destination, tell me something vague and ominous like 'good luck' and 'sleep with your eyes open'. What do you mean?"

"Look," He stopped and turned on the bottom step of the bus. He looked around, as if he expected someone to be listening. "Mr. Barrington employs a lot of people around here. And it's probably just a lot of coincidence. But there are a bunch of rumors. Just watch out."

"Rumors about what?" She frowned. Sexual harassment? Unfair labor practices? Unsafe working conditions? What was he talking about? "My grandmother lived most of her life in this town. I've never heard of anything bad going on here."

"Is that so?" The bus driver climbed up the steps and into the driver's seat. It was hard to hear over the motor, but as he shut the door, Katie thought he might have said, "Try not to die."

As the taillights of the bus disappeared into the night, the dark wrapped around Katie like a cold blanket. She shivered and went to rescue her bags from the shadows, bringing them into the light of the bus shelter. She looked around.

For all its quaint charm—the manicured tree lawn, the vintage black streetlamps, and just the general cleanliness of the downtown—Willow Grove was definitely the kind of place that rolled up its sidewalks at eight pm. The restaurant across the street, the clothing shops, the jewelry store—all dark, all closed. She checked her phone for the time.

Just after midnight. Well, of course everything would be closed. The bus trip took a lot longer than she had expected. Her itinerary said ten p.m. arrival. She looked around. Someone was supposed to meet her here. Mrs. Barrington had said someone would be here to pick her up. But there was no one.

"Oh, Katie." She pulled her bags closer to her under the bus shelter. "What have you gotten yourself into this time? Stuck out here in the dark, in a strange town, in the middle of the night, with no one here to pick you up."

She listened to the silence of the street. No cars on the road in a town like this. Everyone safe at home, probably long in bed. It was kind of peaceful, though. Not like where she lived, where there was always something going on somewhere—traffic, music, conversations—no matter what time of the day or night.

"All alone." She said brightly, just to fill the void with sound. She glanced around for any sort of indication of which way she should start walking. Nothing. She frowned. "Talking to yourself."

She pulled out her phone and Googled 'Willow Grove taxi'. Nothing. 'Willow Grove Uber.' Nothing. It was like the town was straight out of the '50's. She tried 'Willow Grove Lyft.' Still nothing. "What the heck?"

Katie frowned. She searched the recent calls screen on her phone, looking for Mrs. Barrington's number. She hated to call so late, but she was expected. The bus had gotten in so late, maybe her employer assumed she had missed a connection. She would just have to let Mrs. Barrington know that she was here and—

In the distance, a man's drunken singing echoed down the street. Katie looked around carefully. Her hand moved into her purse, closed around the can of pepper spray. Living in Baltimore these last four years had taught her to be careful.

The singing grew louder. Now she could hear footsteps. Pepper spray in her right hand and phone in the left, she hovered her thumb over the emergency call button. Then an older man came into sight.

Katie relaxed. He could barely walk and was singing some old song from the eighties about getting into the groove. There was no danger here, except to her eardrums, maybe. He stopped when he was almost upon her, as if he had suddenly noticed her.

"What?" He looked around fearfully. "What are you doing out here alone, miss? Don't you know it's not safe?"

"I'm fine." She assured him. "I just need to call my employer. Someone was supposed to meet me here."

"Oh, that sucks." He frowned. "They shouldn't do you like that."

"I'm sure it was just an oversight." She held her phone up. "I'm calling them now."

"I'll stay with you." The man wavered. He put out a hand to steady himself against the bus shelter. "So you won't be scared."

"I'm not scared. I'm fine." She smiled as she found Mrs. Barrington's number and hit redial. "It's ringing."

"You should be scared." The man's face grew serious, almost frightened, himself. "Scary things in the night."

Katie took a step away from him, instinctively. The phone continued to ring.

"Not me." He looked offended. "But, you know..."

"Yes, I know." She frowned. The phone went to voice mail. She kept her eyes on the drunk as she left a message. "Hello, Mrs. Barrington? It's Katie Gallagher. My bus was late, so I am at the bus stop here in town. I can't seem to find a taxi or Uber at this time of night. If you could please call me back and let me know that someone is on the way or if there is a hotel I should stay at tonight, I would much appreciate it. You have my number. Thank you so much."

The man had watched her intently as she left her message, looking alternately confused and elated. He barely waited until she hung up before he blurted out, "You're going to Willow Manor?"

"As soon as my ride arrives." She nodded. "I think there must have been some confusion on my arrival time."

"Very confusing." He said and took a step toward her. Katie backed up to keep him out of arm's reach and he fell, face first, onto the sidewalk.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She put a hand out for him. It had been a force of habit to protect her personal space. She hadn't meant for him to lose his balance. "Maybe you should sit down for a bit?"

"I gotta get home." He tried to climb to his feet. "My car is right over there."

"I don't think you should be driving." She frowned as he attempted to stand. "You're a little..."

"Drunk?" He laughed. "I'm a lot drunk, miss."

"Is there someone I can call for you?" She tried to encourage him to sit, but he kept trying to rise. "Someone to come pick you up?"

"He's not answerin' the phone." The man pointed at her phone. "I can drive it."

"That's not really safe." She argued. "Maybe you should—"

"I can drive." He said and lurched to his feet. The momentum carried him a few steps before he stumbled and twisted around, searching. "My car is... somewhere."

Katie frowned. She moved to catch him before he fell again. He shrugged her off and pointed across the street to a newer luxury car. "There it is."

"That's your car?" She asked.

He nodded and fished an electronic key fob out of his front pocket. "Well, it's his car."

"Whose?" She took the key fob from him. The keychain was a leather tag with a gold metal B attached.

"Walter. My boss." He lunged toward the street and the car. "He gets mad if I don't bring the car back."

"I think he'd be angrier if you killed yourself in a car accident on the way." She frowned and followed him, just so he didn't fall again. "Why don't you take a nap in the car?"

The man laughed and opened the car door, crawled into the back seat. "You drive. I'm too drunk."

"I'm not driving you anywhere." She closed the door behind him. It was one thing to talk to a stranger at night, alone. It was a stupid thing, actually. But it was quite another to get into a car with one. "Good night."

"We're going t' the same place." He sat up in the back seat, looked confused about where he was. "Willow Manor. I work there. I live there."

"What?" She shook her head. He had heard her phone call. Was this some elaborate ruse to get her into the car?

"Walter Barrington." He said. Then, frustrated by her not understanding, he climbed over the back seat into the front and opened the glove box. He grabbed a paper and held it out to her, the car registration.

Katie opened the driver side door and took the registration from him. The car belonged to Walter Barrington. She glanced back at her bags, across the street in the dimly lit bus shelter. It was very late.

The man slumped against the passenger side door, the glove box still open. "Walter's my boss."

Katie sighed. This may be the dumbest thing she would ever do. "I need to get my bags."

"M'kay." He nodded. "I'll help."

"I've got them." She held a hand out to stop him. That was the last thing she needed to do, carry him back to the car again. "You sit."

In a moment she was putting the bags into the trunk of the car. She closed the lid and walked to the front. The man was still in the passenger seat.

"I'm Katie Gallagher." She said through the open window of the car. She held up her phone, where he could see. "I called my mom and left her a voice mail. She has a description of you and your license plate number, in case anything happens to me. Just so you know."

The man looked confused, then nodded. "That's smart. I'm Bill Allen. Nice to meet you Katie."

"I'll drive." She said as she got in and pressed the brake and ignition key. "You're a little—"

"Drunk, yeah." He smiled and pointed down the road into a residential section. "That way."

**

"Am I headed the right way, Bill?" Katie said loudly. He had stopped humming some time ago and she was beginning to worry he had gone to sleep. They were well away from the downtown area, and fewer and fewer houses were out this way. "It seems like we're headed out of town."

"It's the right way." Bill stirred and sat up. Some of his drunk appeared to have worn off, although the smell of whiskey still filled up the car. Now that he was halfway sober, he was not as old as he appeared. He was maybe the same age as her father—or as her father would be now. "You should be seeing it on the left any minute."

"So you work for the Barringtons?" She asked. "How long have you worked there?"

"Uh," Bill shifted in the seat, rubbed his face with his hand to clear his head. "I guess it's been about two years now."

"That's great." She nodded. "I'm going to be working for them, too. I'm the new nanny."

"I'm Mr. Barrington's handyman." He said.

"Oh, a handyman?" She looked at him, trying to sober up, straighten up. "Does the house need a lot of work, then?"

"Well, it's an old house. And there's a lot of property to take care of." Bill shrugged. "I drive for Walter sometimes, too."

"I can't wait to see it." Katie gazed out the window at the emptiness beyond. "It sounds amazing."

"Yeah." Bill laughed, but it was not a good laugh.

"It's pretty far out." She tried not to appear too worried, but wasn't this what crazy murderers did? Take you out into nowhere in the dark so no one can hear you scream? "Are you sure this is the right way?"

Bill chuckled and pointed out the window, over her shoulder. "That's all Barrington land there. Used to be farmland, back in the 1800's. Now, just waiting for the price to go up so it can be sold off to developers, I guess."

"Hm." Katie said. It was dark and she didn't really see any of that.

"It will be good for the kids to have a new nanny." Bill said. "It's been a while since the last one and they really don't like the public school."

"Oh? Why did the last nanny leave?" She glanced at him in the darkened car. "I wasn't told."

Bill didn't immediately answer. He seemed very concerned with his appearance all of a sudden, smoothing back his grey hair with his hand, tugging the wrinkles out of his shirt. He breathed into his palm, sniffed. Katie pretended not to notice all of that.

"And there's the woods." He broke the silence finally. "Goes from the road to the lake. The house is beyond the lake. The road wraps around."

Katie nodded. He seemed to know the area pretty well, at least. Maybe he killed all his victims out here? She laughed nervously. "That's a lot of property."

"Walter's rich." Bill shrugged. Then he sat up quickly and pointed to two stone pillars on the left. A metal gate hung open between them. "Turn here!"

Katie slowed the car and turned into the gated drive. The wrought iron arch above did, indeed, say Willow Manor. But the gate seemed to have been in mild disrepair for some time. Katie thought to herself that it was definitely something a good handyman should have taken care of by now.

"Walter is gone a lot for business." Bill said as they drove up the paved driveway. "It will be good for the kids to have stability."

"Oh?" Katie glanced around at the trees lining the road, creating a deeper dark around the car than just the night. "What does he do?"

"He owns a lot of hotels all over this part of the country." Bill pointed at the road ahead, indicating she should keep driving. "The Barrington Inns? I can't believe you haven't heard of them."

"Well, of course I've heard of that chain." She smiled, slightly relieved. The Barrington Inns were famous affordable luxury hotels. If she was being hired by the Barringtons, of course everything would be on the up and up. "I just didn't make the connection that it was this Barrington!"

"Yep." Bill sighed as the house came into view. Lights from the downstairs reflected off the lake. "Looks like Walter's still up."

"It's huge." She drove around the lake. The house was literally a mansion. She couldn't see the whole thing in the dark, but its outline was unmistakably large.

"Been in the Barrington family for over 200 years." Bill glanced up at the façade as Katie parked the car in front.

"Wow." She opened the door and got out. All fear had evaporated, leaving only excitement and curiosity. "So Mr. Barrington grew up here, too?"

"Yep." Bill pulled himself out of the car. "And his father. And grandfather. And great—"

Katie laughed in surprise and awe.

He shrugged, held his hand out for the key fob. "Well, you get the idea. They're old school rich."

They walked up the elaborate brick sidewalk to the double-doored entry. At the top of three half-moon steps, the doors seemed even more elegant and impressive. They were solid, dark wood, ornately and tastefully carved with blooming roses and vines.

Katie touched the smooth wood gently. It felt strong, old, and filled with hundreds of stories about the residents it protected. Everything about it spoke of luxury and class and, she smiled wryly, money. This one door likely cost more than she made all last year.

"I'll let Walter know you're here." Bill said as he turned the key in the front door. "Then I'll come back and get your bags out of the car."

"Don't bother." Katie nodded as he held the door open for her and indicated the foyer with his hand. "I can get them, Bill."

"Bill!" A man's voice bellowed out of the room off to the side of the entry. "Where the hell have you been? I've been looking all over for you!"

"Sorry, Mr. Barrington." Bill stepped into the double doorway of that room. The light from that room cast a long shadow into the entry behind him. "You said I had the evening off, so I—"

"Yes, well. Be that as it may," The man, Walter Barrington, was obviously annoyed. "I was looking for you and you weren't here."

"Sorry." Bill said softly. He glanced back at Katie, in the entry, as if he were going to introduce her. "I—"

"There's been another... incident." Walter was gruff, upset. "Marcus Jones was here again."

"Again?" Bill forgot all about Katie. "Why?"

"Why do you think?" Walter snapped. Then he seemed to gain control of his emotions. "It's very difficult for me when you're not here to back me up. And I just can't afford to have to deal with that. Not when there's a reviewer coming in a few weeks. And when so many people have just left the company."

"Not because of..." Bill glanced back at Katie. She took a step forward, but he shook his head at her very slightly.

"Of course, because of that!" Walter growled. He mumbled a few things Katie was unable to hear. Then he sighed loudly. "And to top it off, they're all getting hired away by RPR."

"But..." Bill turned his attention back to Mr. Barrington again. "I thought Roger P. Reynolds died?"

"Yes, but apparently his widow is charge now. I've never met her, but it seems like she's after me personally." Walter grumbled. "She's been outbidding me on convention contracts, purchasing prime real estate in my markets, and negotiating exclusivity contracts with large corporations with whom I've dealt for years. She's hiring even my long-term hotel managers right out from under me."

"Wow." Bill shook his head, looked down at the floor. "She's more aggressive than Roger ever was."

"She's ruthless! And she's out for blood." Walter shouted. Then he seemed to calm himself a little. "And all of this... you know... other... is making me lose sleep."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Barrington." Bill said, with sincere sympathy. "It won't happen again."

"Yes," Walter growled, but he seemed to have lost his fury. "Well, see that it doesn't."

In the awkward silence, Katie gestured to Bill to introduce her. Bill lowered his eyebrows and shook his head minutely. Katie nodded and pointed to the room. Bill frowned and shook his head again.

"Good God, Bill! What is wrong with you? Why do you keep wobbling your head like that?" Walter bellowed. "Have you been drinking again? So help me..."

Katie took the opportunity to slip into the room, in front of Bill. She smiled her best. "Excuse me, Mr. Barrington, my name is—"

"And what have I told you about bringing your drunken waitresses home?" He interrupted. He seemed shocked and offended by her very presence. "There are children in this house."

"Whom you will awaken, if you continue to shout." Katie said calmly.

Mr. Barrington ignored her, turned his fury to Bill. "Do you think there's another employer in this town who will put up with this kind of behavior? It's as if you want me to fire you!"

"Mr. Barrington, I—" Bill fumbled.

"Now wait a minute, Mr. Barrington." Katie raised her voice slightly. "You can't talk to people like that. Bill has been nothing but kind and I—"

"I'll talk however I wish in my own home." Walter snapped. "But I will not be lectured by a barmaid barely out of her teens."

"I'm twenty-six y—" Katie stopped, gained control of her emotions. That was the key to dealing with children, or adults, for that matter. Control your own self first. She took a deep breath and began again with a softer, more congenial tone. "Look, I was hired by Mrs. Barrington to be a nanny for—"

Both men startled. Bill looked miserable, but Walter became angry once again.

"Mrs. Barrington?" He was a dangerously quiet kind of angry. "There is no Mrs. Barrington."

"What do you mean?" Katie frowned. "I spoke to her on the phone three days ago, when we made the final preparations."

"Impossible." Walter waved her off.

"I'll show you." Katie pulled her phone out of her purse, found the recent calls screen and hit redial. A soft buzzing sound emanated from Walter's suit pocket.

He retrieved his phone, looked at it incredulously. "What? How did you get this number? Was that you who drunk dialed me this evening?"

"I didn't drunk dial you." She insisted. "I hit redial from Mrs. Barrington's number from when she called me on Monday. Like I did just now."

"Impossible." He looked sick. "You're a liar."

"I don't lie." Katie was insulted. "Maybe your wife just didn't tell you?"

Bill spoke softly. "Katie, maybe you should—"

"Bill, are you listening to this?" Walter was both angry and upset. "What were you thinking, bringing her here like this?"

"I couldn't leave her there on the street, Mr. Barrington. Not when..." Bill insisted. "It's not safe. What was I supposed to do?"

"Look." Katie showed him her recent calls page. The number showed up four times over the last three weeks. "I spoke with Mrs. Barrington several times."

"What nerve you have, Miss Gallagher." Mr. Barrington's anger was fading, becoming something else. "My wife has been dead for over two years."

"Mr. Barrington, I—" Katie was too shocked to respond further. What did he mean Mrs. Barrington was dead? That couldn't be right.

Bill stepped up, put his hand out. He stopped short of touching Katie's arm. "Look, it's late and everyone is tired. Can't we sort this out in the morning?"

"Yes." Mr. Barrington seemed distracted, distraught. "Drive Miss Gallagher back to town please, Bill. Put her up in the Inn."

Bill frowned slightly. He glanced at Katie, then back to Walter. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Mr. Barrington. It's late and... you know..."

"Fine." Walter seemed almost defeated. "I suppose you'd like to stay here tonight, Miss Gallagher?"

She hesitated. There was something very odd going on here—something that set off a whole lot of alarm bells in her head—but, she really did need a place to stay. And she really did need this job. She smiled, hoping that the expression would sooth all of them. "Yes. I would appreciate that very much."

Mr. Barrington nodded. "Bill, see that Miss Gallagher gets settled into one of the guest rooms."

"Yes, sir." Bill smiled now, too, an expression of nervousness.

"We'll sort this out in the morning." Walter repeated. Then he turned and exited the room. "Good night, Miss Gallagher."

"Wow. He was really rude." Katie shook her head once Walter was gone. "Is he always like that?"

"Yeah." Bill shrugged. He seemed to have calmed down quickly. "That's what comes from having more money than anyone else your whole life."

"I know it's not my place to ask, but what's going on around here?" Katie hesitated awkwardly. She was prying, she knew, and she hated to pry. But there was definitely something unusual here. "Who is Marcus Jones and why would you have to 'back Mr. Barrington up'?"

Bill sighed and looked away, as if he were formulating a neutral answer. "People like Walter just aren't used to not being in control of their world. I'm sure he's just overreacting."

"He seemed pretty agitated." Katie insisted. "What kind of incident was he talking about?"

Bill shrugged, but the casualness of the gesture didn't reach his eyes. "I don't know. He's just stressing out. That's just how these rich folks are. It's nothing."

"It didn't seem like nothing. He seemed very upset." Katie could not leave it alone. She pressed. "And who was it who hired me, if Mrs. Barrington is gone?"

"Maybe it was Miss Bonham before she left." Bill shrugged again. "Come on. I'll show you to the guest room and then I'll go get your bags from the car."

**

The guest room was larger than any room she'd ever had, including her room at her last employer, the Culvers. It might have even been larger than the Culvers' living room. It was tastefully decorated with a contemporary teal color palette that worked surprisingly well with the antique woodwork of the room. A beautiful pale brick fireplace filled one wall, its walnut mantle covered in a light sheen of dust, and its mouth filled with a huge dried flower arrangement.

A queen sized four poster bed rested between two large windows, covered with rich, satiny curtains. On the opposite wall, an enormous empty wardrobe awaited her few meager belongings. Katie touched the bed, tested it with her hand. The mattress was firm, but soft. The comforter was thick and billowy.

Bill entered, dropped her bags by the door. "Here you are, Miss. You'll be safe here."

Katie turned at the odd phrase. "What do you mean, I'll be safe?"

"What? Oh." Bill chuckled self-consciously. "I meant, you know, sleep safe and sound."

"What?" She startled. "You said it again!"

"It's just an expression. I'm sure you've heard it." He was embarrassed. "Sorry. I'm not college educated like you or anything."

"No, I'm sorry, Bill." She forced a smile. There was no reason to take it out on Bill, who had only been kind to her. "I'm just a little on edge tonight. A mystery phone call. Hired by someone who apparently doesn't exist. It's all very weird, don't you think?"

Bill smiled, turned toward the door. "It's okay, Miss. You're safe here."

She frowned. There it was again—that word, safe. What was going on here?

"Well, good night then, Miss Gallagher." Bill shut the door behind him.

"Good night, Bill." She said to the door. The room felt suddenly emptier.