The two of you walk into the sitting room. You jump as a roll of thunder rips through the room. Looking to your right out the heavily barred windows, you can see it has started to rain. As clouds move over the house, the room slowly darkens.
“Ooh, I don’t like this,” Sophie shivers.
The two of you search around for a phone. You can’t find one, so you and Sophie head into the next room.
You push on the heavy oak swinging door. It moves open with a low groan, and you enter a dim living room. You look over at a low table in the corner, and your eyes fix on the desired object on the desired object - a telephone! You rush over and grab the receiver excitedly. Putting it to your ear, you start to dial - but-
“There’s no dial tone…” you tell Sophie. She looks at you sadly, and tries the phone for herself. “Nothing,” she whimpers.
“Hey, look at this…” you say. There is a small phone book. Filed between the pages are strips of newspaper. You pull one out. It’s a very faded line of “help offered” ads. You read a few which a circled. “Education student seeks part-time nanny position” “We will walk your dog! Call Jane and Katie.”
You pull out another strip. It is personal ads. There are three circled. “SWF, 24, pretty n’ plump, seeks soul mate” “SBF, 22, loves red wine and Scrabble” “SWF, 19, N/S, N/D. I love everything. Let’s meet!” You pull out yet another cutting. This is newer. Your eyes scan down, and you recognize the ad that you and Sophie placed. It is circled in magic marker. Sophie, who has been reading along, says “What do these mean?”
You stand up. “Well, either there’s a lonely guy, who wants a nanny and dog walker, living here, or something really wrong is going on. I think we sh - “
You stop and whirl around as you hear the door groaning softly. Through the dusty light of the room, you see a tall, well groomed man with black hair. He is smiling at you, his brows knit, and inquiry on his lips.
Sophie stands up hurriedly. “Excuse me - I’m sorry, but we really need to be going and…”
He approaches, a comforting smile on his face. “I’m very sorry,” he says warmly. “I think you might have run into my wife in the kitchen.” You and Sophie look at each other, remembering the knife-wielding maniac. He continues. “She’s been ill lately. I’m sorry she turned on you with the knife. You surprised her while she was cooking. She’s gone back to bed. I promise you she won’t be a problem.” He smiles again, his white teeth sparkling. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been introduced. I’m Mr. Alexander, the owner of the house. You’re Sophie and Alex, right? Pleased to meet you. Let’s just get you the list of tasks ans you can get started.”
You bite your lip. His story is kind of plausible, but you’re still troubled.
What do you do?
