Page 4 of The Nanny Contract
Heading into the interior of the garden, Betsy’s affinity for peculiarities started to show. Strange statues peeked out from within the foliage—an owl here, a rabbit there, a fox in the distance.
The maze was eerie, with a watchful quality.
I found myself wondering about security cameras, but I didn’t see any around the garden. Surely a family as wealthy as the Westbrooks would have cameras all over the place. Everyone in the city of Charleston talked about them—they’d be foolish not to be protected at all times.
A few wrong turns later, I realized I was helplessly lost. Each pathway looked identical to the one I’d taken before, and it felt as if I were walking in circles.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
I had assumed the maze would be simple.
I was wrong.
It had turned into an imposing labyrinth of towering, looming hedges. Each turn brought new eccentric details: statues of flowers, whimsical fountains with trickling water.
Suddenly, Betsy’s comments about whispering came rushing back to me.
My hands shook—hell, my entire body shook.
Sunlight occasionally glimmered through the leaves, casting light on stones which were covered in moss under my feet. I’d lost track of time, and I couldn’t determine if I’d been inside the maze for five minutes or thirty.
Panic finally set in as I took turn after turn. What little poise I’d retained dissipated rapidly as the sky darkened, making it almost impossible to find my way out. My heart pounded, each thud reminding me that I was lost.
After another wrong turn, I stepped onto a stone that sank under my weight, like a hidden pressure plate.
Suddenly, a terrible, shrill alarm bell rang out. It echoed and reverberated throughout the entire estate and sent shockwaves through my body.
Shit.
I had no idea what I’d done, but I knew one thing for sure: I was definitely not going to get the job.
There was no way people as cultured as civilized as the Westbrooks would hire me after this. I’d set off the idiot alarm and now someone was going to have to come rescue me.
The alarm was old-fashioned and surprisingly jarring. Anyone in the vicinity could hear that some moron had activated it.
I winced with embarrassment, hoping someone—anyone—might come and lead me to safety.
As if on cue, the sprinklers burst to life. They shot streams of water from every direction, catching me in the crossfire as I frantically tried to dodge them. There was no escape. In just a matter of seconds, I was completely drenched. I stumbled and tried to shield my face, but it was no use.
Before I could compose myself, I heard Betsy’s voice from behind.
Spinning around, I saw her standing there, wearing rain boots, and holding an umbrella over her head.
Where the hell did she come from?
She beamed at me.
“Casey, darling!” she exclaimed over the sound of rushing water. “You activated the guest distress system. We built it to help us locate wayward souls!”
Clearly, she was proud of her maze.
She clicked a small remote in her hand and suddenly the alarm stopped.
Silence encompassed us, punctuated by the sound of loud sprinklers pummeling my face.
Betsy, on the other hand, was completely shielded by her nifty umbrella. To my relief, she gestured for me to follow her.
“Don’t worry dear,” she said sweetly. “Consider it a rite of passage.”