Gone Too Far by Suzanne Brockmann Page B

to wake up early and keep an eye on Amanda and Haley while Connie was meeting with him.
    Before she’d made the marathon run to the wing with the dining room, Mary Lou had taken Haley to the bathroom at least two dozen times, cursing the fact that her daughter had been potty trained—early—for a full month now. She tried to put a Pull-Ups on Haley, tried to tell her daughter not to drink, tried to caution her not to ask Whitney for help in the bathroom, told her to wait to pee until Mommy came back.
    Haley had blinked at her and then returned to staring at Sesame Street .
    Whitney had staggered in at 6:57, and Mary Lou had sprinted to the dining room, risking one of Mrs. Downs’s “the hired help moves silently throughout the house” lectures.
    She’d arrived at 6:59, dressed in Connie’s most conservative beige slacks and a pastel blue blouse. And then she’d sat off to the side and waited for more than ninety minutes while King Frank talked on the phone to someone in San Francisco named Steve about acquiring one of Wyatt Earp’s six-shooters for his vast gun collection.
    Finally, King Frank got off the phone, ate half a corn muffin, and then turned his attention to Mary Lou.
    At first she thought she was being let go, because he told her that he’d decided to send Whitney into a special rehab-type program. Starting in two weeks, she would be gone for three months. And she’d be taking Amanda with her.
    But then he gave Mary Lou a contract that, if she signed, would give her five thousand dollars a month—including the months Whitney would be away—provided she stayed a full year. If she didn’t stay the year, she’d receive only five hundred dollars a month.
    The catch was that King Frank was going to Europe this afternoon. Something important had come up, and he wouldn’t be back until August. And Mrs. Downs’s niece was getting married in Atlanta on Friday. She was leaving tonight, and would be gone most of the two weeks before Whitney and Amanda were scheduled to leave, too.
    Starting in just a few hours, Mary Lou would be alone in the house with the devil child and her offspring. The security guards would remain on duty down by the gate, and although they did a daily check of the compound to make sure the two empty guest houses were secure, they rarely did more than walk in a circle around the main house.
    Of course, she’d signed. She’d had her pen out and ready the moment King Frank had uttered the words five thousand . These next few weeks might actually be easier with no one around for Whitney to piss off. She’d try plenty, but Mary Lou had learned early on to let it bounce right off.
    But now Whitney had taken Haley to Starbucks .
    Mary Lou ran into the garage just as the convertible pulled inside.
    And the reality of the situation hit Mary Lou. That girl had taken Haley all the long way to town. In a convertible with the top down.
    Where anyone might have seen her.
    You did not have my permission to take Chris into town. Mary Lou clenched her teeth over the words. If she uttered them, then Whitney would know that she’d found Mary Lou’s weakness. And then the girl would have the upper hand.
    Lord help her, she needed a drink.
    “Please ask me next time you decide to take Chris to town,” Mary Lou said instead.
    “You were busy and I needed a cup of coffee.”
    “There’s coffee in the kitchen.” Mary Lou worked to make her voice calm. Unaffected. She lifted howling Amanda out of her car seat and held her close. “Shhh, honey, it’s all right.”
    “Yeah, well, I needed a Starbucks .”
    What Whitney had needed was to see Peter Young, the loser of the moment, the boy who was currently using her for sex.
    Had she left Haley and Amanda alone in the car, in the parking lot, while she and Peter had gone into the bathroom and . . . ?
    Mary Lou wanted to break Whitney’s nose.
    But there was a gleam in her blue eyes that Mary Lou didn’t like. And Whitney’s smile was just a little