Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
So I’ll do as Maggie says.
I’ll relish this last evening. Perhaps I’m being watched, but this is the last sliver of freedom I will ever have.
39
FALCON
“All wireless alarm systems rely on radio frequency signals sent between door and window sensors to a control system that triggers an alarm when any of these entryways are breached,” Leif says quietly. “The signals deploy any time a tagged window or door is opened, whether or not the alarm is enabled. But when enabled, the system will trip the alarm and also send a silent alert to the monitoring company, which contacts the occupants and the police.”
I shake my head. “How is this even possible?”
“It is. All the systems use different hardware, but they are essentially the same. This isn’t that advanced. It’s been around since the nineties. I can jam the signals to prevent them from tripping an alarm by sending radio noise to prevent the signal from getting through from sensors to the control panel.”
“It all sounds like gobbledygook to me.”
“It did to me at first too,” Leif says. “But it’s actually pretty simple once you understand how the tech works.”
“Right.”
Leif plays with his gadgets, listening intently. A few lights flicker on and off, and he taps in different codes. This goes on for several minutes until he smiles. “Got it. The whole thing is disarmed, including the cameras and microphones. But now we have to get in and out before they discover this.”
“How could they discover it?”
“Depends. If they have actual humans manning the cameras, they’ll see it quickly. If they don’t, it’ll be a while.”
“And how do we know whether people are watching?”
“We don’t, Falcon. That’s why we fucking hurry.” He pulls out yet another gadget.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a lockpick gun, just in case disabling the system didn’t unlock the gate.”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“Sometimes the gate is on a different frequency so cars can come and go via a remote control without unlocking the whole system. That’s probably the case here.”
We walk toward the gate, staying in shadows as much as we can. In the distance, several dogs bark.
“Where do you think the hounds are?” I ask.
“Could be in the back, but they sound farther away than that. There’s probably a couple dogs in the back and one or two in the house as well.” He pats the bag of jerky in the pocket of his hoodie. “We’ll take care of them.”
“Just how quickly does the doggie downer work?”
“Too damned long, but it’ll do the job.”
Leif and I make it to the gate.
“Yeah, it’s still locked.” He pulls out the gun, clicks it a few times. “We’re in.”
40
SAVANNAH
A silk nightie.
Not only one silk nightie but several, all in different pastel colors.
I’ve never owned a silk nightie. I’ve never really owned anything silk.
I slide the pale green one over my head, the fabric cool against my body that’s still warm from the shower.
What now?
Maggie said she’d send some food up. Has it come?
I have no idea because I can’t open the door to look.
I sigh.
I’m not the least bit hungry. In fact, I feel kind of sick. I need to keep my strength. Because in the back of my mind, I can’t accept that this night is my last sliver of freedom. I have to believe I will be able to escape somehow—once I know Miles has held up his end of the bargain and Falcon has been absolved.
If I have any chance of that, I must keep up my strength.
My gaze falls on a minifridge in the living area.
I open it, but there’s no food inside. Only bottles of spring water. I grab one, open it, take a long sip.
Hydration is key as well. Sustenance and hydration, so I’m at my best.
I take a seat, peruse the books on the shelf.
Mostly classics, most of which I read during my private school education.
I grab Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility.
I never could get into this one, not like Pride and Prejudice.
Why not try again? It’s not like I have anything better to do.
I open to the first page.
The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. Their estate was large, and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of their property, where, for many generations, they had lived in so respectable a manner as to engage the general good opinion of their surrounding acquaintance.
So many times I’ve read those words, trying to elicit enjoyment from this novel.
I look at the next line, when—
A click disrupts the silence.
The digital lock.
My food.
I will eat it, no matter what it is.
I stay seated, expecting a maid to bring in the tray and set it up for me.
But then I jerk.
It’s not Maggie. It’s not a servant.
It’s Miles. And yes, he does bring me food.
And he’s dressed in a black silk robe.
I bite my lower lip.