The Harem on the Hill (Part LXXVII) (Patreon)

Peeling out, you leave Bob's Bait Shop in the dust as a disappointed Bob watches from his dirt-caked window.  If only he sold something that could help you catch your white whale.

The windy mountain road leading to your estate isn't particularly scenic.   A thick canopy of trees envelops the asphalt and limits your view to a few feet on either side.  Still, the foliage is nice and on more leisurely trips you might glimpse a deer or a squirrel.  At 70 MPH, however, wildlife is the last thing you want to see.  It would probably be the last thing you'd EVER see.

Although the drive is a blurry tapestry of green, brown, and blacktop, there's no doubt its monotony adds to the "wow" factor of your home, which emerges like a desert mirage after a seemingly never-ending stream of switchbacks and straightaways.  Even today, with your mind racing faster than your Ferrari, you can't help but appreciate its grandeur.  Nestled against a hilly outcropping overlooking the valley, it looks more like a posh Aspen ski lodge than a private abode.

As you pull up to your gate and enter its access code, however, reality knocks the proud smirk from your face.  The code doesn't work.  You try it again.  Nope.

"Tina!"  You yell into the intercom.  "We need to talk!"

You grab your phone from the passenger seat and swipe through the feed from your security cameras.  They're still offline.  As are the rest of your security features.

Including control of the front gate.

"Tina!  Open the gate, please!"

Your head lolls against the Portofino's leather headrest, and you close your eyes to contemplate the absurdity of having to beg for access to your own home.  A wry chuckle escapes your lips.  It transitions to full-blown laughter as you consider your options.  Ram your $250,000 sportscar through the gate?  Ha!  Call the police?  Ha!  Ha!

Ultimately, you back across the road and ease into a small clearing just off-camera--undoubtedly where the vehicle with the large shadow waited for Tina.  As you exit your automobile, however, you notice the shifting sun now casts its shadow out of camera range.  With so few allies, it's nice to know time is on your side at least.

You traverse the outside perimeter of your estate until you reach the section of wall Officer Morgan trespassed over during her unauthorized surveillance sessions.  While you're not as swift or silent as Morgan in her prime, you deftly navigate the hurdle and drop to the other side, before springing into a defensive stance lest Tina, who is as aware of the dip in the fenceline as you are, has set up some sort of ambush.

The abundance of caution is unnecessary.  Tina ambushing anyone nowadays is about as likely as Morgan hopping the fence.  You doubt either could make the hundred-yard walk from the car.

Though your phone showed them as offline, you try to avoid the surveillance cameras, as well as dry leaves and twigs, as you approach the house.  Rather than approaching from the back, with its 180-degree panoramic and floor-to-ceiling windows, you creep around the side to the front.  Not only does it offer more cover, but you remember that Bernadette unlocked the front door during your little tête-à-tête.  Perhaps it still is.

You're nevertheless shocked when the handle turns and the door opens.  As its sensor chimes your arrival, you abandon all pretense of surprise and burst into the foyer like a madman ready to strike.  Nothing greets you but the smell of coffee.  Darting to your left, you take up position behind the dining room table, which has line-of-sight into the kitchen.  It appears to be empty.

You maneuver around the tipped barstool and spilled donuts from the morning's fracas, to find that the kitchen is, indeed, empty apart from a fresh pot of coffee--the urn remains hot to the touch--and a hand-written note on the granite countertop.

Hi Hon:

Sorry about the gate.  I needed to keep you busy for a bit.  I brewed some coffee before I left (full-bodied, the way you like it), but I'm afraid I left you a mess in the basement.  Sorry again.

Goodbye for now…but not forever!

Love,

Tina

You hurry into the living room and throw open the iron door that leads downstairs.  After scurrying down the stone steps, you sprint past your harem's bedchambers, past the entrance to the octagonal atrium that marks the middle of your estate, and down the narrow corridor that leads to a rarely but recently visited chamber within your basement's bowels.  Opening the door, you immediately shield your eyes with your hand--partly because of the room's ethereally bright light, and partly because what Tina wrote in her note was true...

You have quite a mess to clean up.

(Nota Bene: I hope you enjoyed this extra-long chapter!  Sorry, no choices this week, but the next installment is going to feature a time jump.)