She thought about this for a moment and then shook her head. “No, it doesn’t bother me,” she said. “Whatever consenting adults want to do is their business, isn’t it?”
“That’s what we believe,” Jake said, “but there are plenty of people who do not believe that.”
“It’s not a deal breaker,” she said. “I’m still just trying to absorb it.”
“Understandable,” Jake said. “Now, for the most important question. Can you work here and keep your mouth shut about what you see, hear, smell, and know? Can you promise not to tell your sister, your preacher, your best friend, your lover, not just now, but ever. Because the nondisclosure agreement is forever. If you quit here in two months, you are still bound by the NDA forever.”
Again, she thought this over for a moment and then nodded. “I can do it,” she said.
“You are one hundred percent sure of this?” Jake asked. “No chance you might have a few too many with your girlfriends one night and spill the beans about some juicy gossip you know about the Kingsleys?”
“No chance,” she said. “What happens in this house stays in this house.”
Jake and Laura shared another look. They then shared another nod.
“All right then,” Laura said. “Welcome aboard. Shall we start going over your actual duties now?”
“Let’s do it,” Meghan said with a smile.
Chapter 24: Turning the Tables
Oceano, California
April 6, 1998
It was 3:30 AM on this Monday morning when the intercom box in Jake and Laura’s bedroom began to chirp out an alarm, waking the couple from a sound sleep. At the same time, the same alarm sounded in Elsa’s bedroom in the guest house and in Meghan’s bedroom on the other side of the main house.
Jake’s eyes opened and he sat up immediately in bed, a little jolt of adrenaline flooding into him, making his heart pound in his chest. Laura was a little slower coming to grips with the sudden noise.
“What is that, sweetie?” she asked groggily. “What’s going on?”
“It’s the motion detector alarm,” he said. “Something just triggered it.”
“The motion detector? Where?”
“I don’t know,” he said, pulling back the covers and putting his feet on the floor. He was naked because he and Laura had had sex after they had put Caydee to bed. “I need to go check the monitors.”
“I’m coming with you,” she said, extricating herself from the covers as well.
“Okay,” Jake said. “Close the window and engage the security lock first.”
A look of alarm appeared on her face. “Do you think it’s that serious?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, “but I think we need to assume the worst until we can get a look, don’t you?”
“I guess so,” she said, the nervous look increasing a bit.
Jake grabbed his red robe from a hook on the doorway. He had not been in the habit of wearing a robe inside the house until Meghan had moved in last week and the possibility of encountering her in the halls or the kitchen in the middle of the night became a thing. He pulled it closed and then tied it securely. By this point, Laura had shut the window and latched it. She pulled on her own robe—hers was white and fuzzy and well broken in—and they went to the bedroom door.
Meghan was in the main hallway. She was wearing a long t-shirt with Cal Poly’s logo on it. It was obvious that she had no bra on beneath. Her hair was mussed and tangled and her eyes were sleepy. Her legs were bare and quite attractive, but Jake only glanced at them for a moment.
“What’s going on, Jake?” she asked. “Why is the intercom going off like that?”
“It’s the proximity alarm,” he told her. “Something just triggered it.”
“Like someone trying to break in?” she asked, alarm appearing on her face as well.
“I don’t know,” Jake said. “I’m going to check the monitors now. Is your window closed?”
“No,” she said. “I love to listen to the ocean when I’m sleeping.”
“Go close it,” he told her. “And latch it.”
“Do you really think that...”
“Just go do it, Meghan,” he told her. “We assume the worst until we know what’s going on.”
Meghan had been briefed on what the worst was: that some fanatical fan, or Intemperance hater, or just plain lunatic was trying to get to the Kingsleys to do violence. The house had been designed and constructed with this scenario in mind. Once all the doors and windows were latched and secured, it would take even a persistent intruder the better part of thirty minutes to gain entry; and that was only if the intruder was equipped with an axe, a sledgehammer, or cutting tools.
Meghan trotted back down the hall toward the guest bedroom that had been turned over to her. Jake and Laura opened the door to the office and stepped inside. The monitors were all operating in night vision mode. On one of them—the one that showed the view of the access road as it approached the gate to the property—was something that did not belong. It was a VW microbus straight out of the 1960s. It was moving slowly forward, its headlights out. Two vague human silhouettes could be seen in the driver and front passenger seats. The view was good enough that Jake could plainly see the front license plate number. That was good. The system continuously recorded all the video taken in a twelve-hour loop.
“Who is it?” Laura asked.
“No idea,” Jake said, watching. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that VW around town though. It’s red and has a bunch of bumper stickers on the back.”
“Yeah,” Laura said, nodding. “I’ve seen it too. Some hippie looking couple drives around in it.”
“They’re locals then,” Jake said.
“Maybe they just got lost?” Laura suggested. “Made a wrong turn onto our road?”
Jake shook his head. “People who make wrong turns onto the road don’t creep along with their headlights out,” he said. “They’re here for some purpose.”
“Should we call the sheriff’s department?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “Let’s see what they do.”
“Maybe they just want to buy some pot from us,” Laura suggested.
Jake chuckled a bit and continued to look at the monitors. He checked all the others and saw that there was nothing unusual going on. At least this was not an organized, multi-factional attack on the compound. He looked back at the approach view. The microbus slowly passed the hidden camera station and continued on. The camera automatically panned to follow it. Sure enough, the entire back of the bus was plastered with bumper stickers, most of which were of the radical environmental variety.
The phone rang on the desk. Jake looked at the caller ID and saw it was Elsa’s number. She had her own bank of monitors in her quarters and was undoubtedly watching the same thing that Jake was. He picked up the phone.
“Hey, Elsa,” he greeted.
“Are you watching this, Jake?” she asked.
“I am,” he confirmed. “Not sure what to make of it yet.”
“I have seen that vehicle around town on many occasions,” Elsa said. “Their bumper stickers suggest they are members of the environmentalist movement as well as the animal rights movement.”
“Yeah,” Jake said. “Laura and I have both seen it as well. A hippie looking couple in their late forties, early fifties.”
“That is correct,” she said. “Have you contacted the sheriff’s department yet?”
“Not yet,” Jake said. “I want to see what they do.”
“I suppose that is appropriate,” Elsa said doubtfully.
“Are you locked down over there?” Jake asked her.
“Indeed I am,” she said.
“That’s good,” he said. “Stay on the line with me. I’ll put you on speaker.”
“Very good,” she said.
He pushed the button for speakerphone and then hung up the handset. On the monitor, the vehicle finally came to a halt. It was just a few feet before the point where the gate camera would have picked them up and triggered the security lights. Interesting.