Page 30 of A Hidden Past

“Again?”

“Yep. They called us last night.”

“I was just there three days ago.”

“Yeah, well…” Ahmed hesitates, apparently trying to decide how much to tell me. “Do you watch the news?”

“Yeah, I watch it.”

“Well… that’s why they want you to clean the pool again.”

I know damn well that’s why the Kensingtons want me to clean the pool. That doesn’t mean I want to go back. And why would they want me back, anyway? Don’t they know…

No. They don’t know. If they don’t know, it means the cops didn’t tell them. If the cops didn’t tell them, it means…

What does it mean? Why wouldn’t they tell the parents I was the one who found her? Do they suspect the parents too? Do they still suspect me?

I think a little more and come to another conclusion. This has been all over the news. My van was parked in front of the Kensingtons’ house. Considering how damned nosy everyone is, there’s no way no one saw me there with the cops. Why would no one mention to anyone that I was there?

I can understand why Vivian wouldn’t. But no one else? None of the next-door neighbors? No one passing by? What the hell have I walked into?

“They’re going to pay triple,” Ahmed says. “And don’t worry about your other clients. I moved them up an hour.”

“There’s no one else who can do it? I have twelve clients today.”

“Thirteen,” Ahmed says. “What’s the problem? Have a hot date tonight?”

I don’t, actually. Vivian’s going to be out of town today. Something about needing to go to a courthouse in San Jose to deal with a property dispute between her and her ex. She’s not coming back until tomorrow morning.

I just really don’t want to go back to that house.

“I’ll let you keep half the extra money,” Ahmed says. “You’re not going to get a better deal than that.”

He’s right. I’ll basically be making four times what I normally make. That’s a lot more money than I can sneeze at. Even with a dead body on the line.

But… “They asked for me specifically?”

Ahmed leans back and laughs. “That’s funny. No, they didn’t ask for you specifically. These are rich people, son. They probably won’t even realize you’re the same guy who was there four days ago. They called us, and that’s your territory, so I’m giving it to you because I thought you’d like the chance to make a lot more money. I didn’t expect you’d be suspicious over a dead girl. You know it happens to everyone eventually, right?”

“Yeah. Right.” I take the keys and offer a half-hearted smile. “Thanks, Ahmed.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Hey, loosen up a little, too. Life is short. Don’t make it so damned dreary.”

***

“Police announced this morning that the death of nineteen-year-old Lila Kensington has been ruled an accident…”

“What? That’s bullshit!”

“…was discovered dead when police officers arrived to perform a wellness check after an anonymous tip…”

That really is bullshit. But it’s good for me, right? People think a neighbor called it in, and no one’s even thinking that I could be responsible. Good news, isn’t it?

Except it makes no sense. That cop looked awfully suspicious of me. Why would she look at me the way she did, then never call me again? Did she confirm my alibi somehow?

I guess she could have. She would have a timeframe for Lila’s death. If it was proven she died hours earlier, say, before the security cameras at the gate of the neighborhood picked me up, then they could have determined that there was no way I could be there.

As far as Julian and Clara, that’s shitty, but I understand it. Mistakes don’t cost rich people, even when those mistakes get other people killed. You can drown your daughter, and as long as you have a decent cover, you get to escape. You can run over a kid on her way home from the convenience store, but as long as you can pay for a lawyer, the police will manage not to find your vehicle.

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