Page 19 of Silent Threat
Since Annie had agreed to let Kelly do what she wanted with the house as long as the end result was a substantial increase in equity, she said, “That would be great.”
“All right, then, guys,” Kelly called to the crew, “let’s knock this wall out of the way!”
Six stud muffins in ripped jeans and tool belts sprang up to obey, swinging giant hammers. They weren’t as big as Cole Makani Hunter, nor as mean-looking. These guys were the smiley, friendly handyman types who played well on TV—ridiculously handsome to the last man, picked for the camera, probably straight from the YMCA where Kelly went for yoga classes.
Not that Annie was going to start comparing every guy she met to Cole. She pushed the SEAL from her mind while her cousin retreated from the room to escape the dust.
The camera filmed the men. Right until they cut to commercial break.
Everybody hurried to the bathroom to take their places for the next segment.
“Five,” the producer said, flashing Kelly a smile, “four, three, two, one.”
Kelly whispered to Annie, “Look like a lady.” Then she said into the camera, “Welcome back. Now here, we are turning this tiny hole of a dark bathroom into a sumptuous spa bath.”
A spa bath being another thing that Annie hadn’t wanted, but Kelly said luxury was the latest rage.
Kelly gave the signal for Rob, the guy who’d been waiting with the jackhammer. The twenty-two-year-old college student from West Chester University had gym muscles on top of his gym muscles.
Annie had talked to him for a few minutes earlier. His goal was to graduate without debt. He’d been on the cover of a couple of romance novels written by a local author before he’d snagged this gig. He knew jackhammers because he worked construction during the summers.
He was nearly as tall as Cole, but not as wide in the shoulders ...
Not thinking it!
Annie made sure to keep the smile on her face. Kelly was right—they did need to look professional. Annie had patients watching at Hope Hill.
The jackhammer went wild in the tiled shower stall, the noise deafening, debris flying. Then a different kind of noise. And then the shower stall caved. The next second, the outer wall of the bathroom fell away with a crash that shook the floor under them.
The jackhammer stopped.
As the dust slowly settled, Annie could see the backyard and the fence on the far side of the yard. For a moment, she thought she saw a dark figure at the edge of the cornfield that began past her fence. Then the figure disappeared—probably Joey—and Annie refocused on the giant hole in front of her. She’d lost a wall. Anentirefricking wall. Anoutsidewall!
Thatwas not supposed to happen.
The words tumbled from her lips before she could call them back. “Fucking spa bath.”
Which, as she later found out, was the last thing she said on live TV.
The camera guy immediately cut the feed, while the producer shouted, “Out. Out. Out. Get out to safety!”
They all ran for the back door, the closest exit. When Kelly stumbled in her high heels, the producer picked her up and carried her.
Annie came to a stop in her backyard, barely hearing the team’s shocked exclamations over the blood pounding in her ears.
Her phone pinged. On reflex, she pulled it from her pocket. Text message from Joey. The eighth one today.
She’d been determined to have a good week, but as she stood there staring at the hole in the wall, her stomach churning, she had to admit defeat.
Her job still hadn’t been made full-time.
Her ex would not give up stalking her.
Her new patient was difficult.An understatement.
And her house stood open to the elements.
With a hurricane coming.
