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Shocking Pink
Erica Spindler


I spy…murder…The mysterious lovers the three girls spied on were engaged in a deadly sexual game. No one else was supposed to know – especially not Andie and her friends. But curiosity can become obsession. Now, years later, someone is watching Andie.Someone who won’t let her forget the unsolved murder of ‘Mrs X’. Andie. Julie. Raven. Three very different women bound by much more than friendship. And they’re about to discover that loyalty can be murder…










I’d like to express my heartfelt thanks and appreciation to the following people for their help and support during the writing of this book.

Jessica Schneider and Erin Engelhardt for honestly sharing their thoughts, feelings, hopes and wishes; for reminding me what it’s like to be fifteen and best friends.

Linda Kay West (as always) for answering my many questions about the law and legal proceedings.

Dianne Moggy and the amazing MIRA


crew for helping me make this book all it could be.

Evan Marshall for his support, enthusiasm and incomparable instincts.

And special acknowledgement to Deanna Breheny, winner of my “Fantasy Proposal” contest. Deanna, you and Jim are the greatest!




About the Author


The author of twenty-five books, ERICA SPINDLER is best known for her spine-tingling thrillers. Her novels have been published all over the world, selling over six million copies, and critics have dubbed her stories “thrill-packed, page turners, white knuckle rides, and edge-of-your-seat whodunits.”

Erica is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. In 2002, her novel Bone Cold won the prestigious Daphne du Maurier Award for excellence.


Also by Erica Spindler

COPYCAT

SEE JANE DIE

IN SILENCE

DEAD RUN

ALL FALL DOWN


Shocking Pink

Erica Spindler






www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Prologue


Thistledown, Missouri 1998

The call had come in at 3:01 a.m. An anonymous tip. Something weird was going on over at the Gatehouse development site, the caller had said. They had seen lights.

Something weird, all right. A homicide.

Detective Nick Raphael climbed out of his Jeep Cherokee, stopping a moment to take in the scene. Two black and whites, his partner Bobby’s truck and the coroner’s wagon. No press yet, thank God. An officer stood guard at the door of the model home, cordoned off with yellow tape.

Nick moved his gaze slowly over the face of the house, then the land around it, careful not to rush, not to take anything for granted. He had learned long ago that rushing equaled missed opportunities. He had learned that good police work required a quick mind, a slow eye and the patience of Job.

He rubbed his hand across his jaw, rough with his morning beard. Funny place for a murder. Or a brilliant one. Located twenty minutes east of Thistledown, in the middle of nowhere, the development was hardly even up and running. It had, no doubt, been created with the St. Louis executive in mind. Only a forty-minute commute to a better life, Nick thought, mouth twisting into a grim smile. In relatively crime-free Thistledown.

Right. And tonight’s little event wouldn’t do much for the neighborhood.

He brought his attention back to his immediate surroundings. So far, the development consisted of three model homes, this one complete and two others nearly finished. Pool and tennis court just under construction; lots parceled off. No residents yet. Completely deserted.

Not completely deserted, Nick thought. Not tonight. The anonymous tip proved that. So did the stiff.

Nick started for the front door, squinting against the light spilling from the house into the darkness. He greeted the officer at the door, the man’s rookie status apparent by his pallor.

“Davis, right?” Nick asked.

The kid nodded.

“What’ve we got?”

Davis cleared his throat, his color turning downright pasty. “Female. Caucasian. Twenty-eight to thirty-two. The M.E.’s checking her out now.”

Nick swept his gaze over the face of the house again. Nice house. He’d bet it’d go for a half a million or more. He motioned with his head. “Everybody inside?”

The kid nodded again. “Straight ahead, then left. The living room.”

Nick thanked him and went inside, noting the alarmsystem panel as he did. Fancy, all the bells and whistles. It was on but not armed.

He heard voices and followed the sound, stopping dead when he saw her. She hung by her neck, naked, her hands bound in front of her by a black silk scarf. An identical scarf had been used to blindfold her. A tall stool lay on its side under her dangling feet, a short one sat beside it, undisturbed.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, the past coming up behind him and biting him in the ass. “Holy fucking shit.”

“Raphael. Glad you could make it.”

Nick shifted his gaze to his partner. “I had Mara. It took her baby-sitter a few minutes to get to the house.” He moved his gaze back to the victim, his sense of déjà vu so strong it disoriented him. Nick forced himself to focus on this crime, this victim. He narrowed his eyes, studying her. She was—had been—a looker. Blond. Stacked. Even in death her breasts stood up high and firm. The blindfold covered too much of her face to be certain, but he’d bet the face had gone with the body. It just seemed to go that way with stiffs, though he couldn’t say why.

The coroner stood on a chair, carefully examining the corpse. He stopped working and met Nick’s eyes. “Hello, Detective.”

“Doc.” Like Nick, the M.E. had been around a long time. Long enough to remember. “Talk to me,” Nick said.

“Not a suicide,” the doctor said quietly. “Not an accident. Her hands are bound. Kind of hard to string yourself up that way. She definitely had a playmate.”

Nick moved closer. “Do we recognize somebody’s work here?”

“We might,” the coroner said, returning to his examination. “Or it could be a copycat. No outward signs of a struggle. I think we’re talking consensual, up to the very end anyway.”

“Right,” Nick muttered. “Up to the moment the bastard kicked the stool out from under her.”

“Whoa.” One of the uniforms came up beside them. “What’s this ‘recognize’ bullshit? Have you guys seen something like this before?”

“You could say that.” Nick moved closer to the body. “Something just like this. Fifteen years ago. Right here in Thistledown. Unsolved.”

As Nick said the words he thought of Andie and her friends, their involvement in that crime. He remembered how they had been all those years ago, young and naive and frightened. But so full of life. And he thought of himself, of how he had been the same way.

Much had changed in fifteen years. He’d changed, in ways he never could have imagined.

“Can you ID her, Nick?”

Using tweezers, the coroner ever so carefully removed the blindfold, dropped it into an evidence bag, then tapped the body. It swung slightly in Nick’s direction.

Once again the past stared him square in the face, this time through lifeless blue eyes. Nick sucked in a sharp breath.

Not her. Dear Jesus, it couldn’t be.

But it was.

He thought of Andie again. And of the events of fifteen years before. A knot, an emotion, settled in the pit of his gut, one he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Fear. Icy-cold and putrid. Like death.

Aware of the other two men looking at him, waiting for an answer, Nick struggled to find his voice. “Yeah,” he managed to say finally, “I know who she is.”


Book One

Best Friends - Summer of 1983




1


Thistledown, Missouri 1983

The inside of the car was hot, steamy with the heat radiating from the two teenagers making out in the back seat. The Camaro rocked slightly with their enthusiastic movements. The sound of mouths and tongues meeting and sucking, of sighs and groans and murmured pleasure, filled the interior and spilled out into the June night.

Julie Cooper believed she had died and gone to heaven. She had run into Ryan Tolber, a senior she’d had a crush on the entire year before, on her way to the bowling alley’s ladies’ room. One thing had led to another, and when he’d suggested she come out to his car with him, she hadn’t been able to say no.

Saying no was a big problem for Julie. Or at least that’s what her best friends, Andie Bennett and Raven Johnson, told her.

As far as Julie was concerned, saying yes was tons more fun than saying no. And, of course, that was the problem.

“Come on, Julie baby. I’m gonna die if we don’t.”

“Oh, Ryan … I want to, but—”

He cut off her words with his mouth. He kissed her deeply, spearing his tongue into her mouth, pressing her back against the seat. She thought fleetingly of Andie and Raven, inside the bowling alley and no doubt looking for her by now. Andie would be worried sick; Raven would be mad as hell. Julie knew she should go back into the bowling alley and tell them where she was.

All thoughts of her friends evaporated as Ryan brought his hands to her breasts and began kneading them. “No buts, baby. I want you so bad. I need you.”

Growing dizzy with his words and the sensations rocketing through her, she arched toward him. “I need you, too, Ryan.”

He slipped his hands under her shirt and cupped and stroked her through her bra. “All last year I liked you. I thought you were the cutest freshman girl of all.”

“Me? The cutest?” She gazed into his warm brown eyes, pleased at the compliment, feeling about to burst with happiness. “I liked you, too. Why didn’t you ask me out?”

“You were a freshman. That made you off-limits, babe.”

She nuzzled against his neck. “But I’m a sophomore now.”

“Exactly. And now that you’re older, you know what a boy needs.” He worked her shirt over her head, then unfastened her bra. Her breasts spilled out into his hands. “Oh, baby,” he muttered, his voice suddenly thick. “You have great tits. The best.” He pulled a nipple into his mouth while he squeezed and rubbed them. “Say yes, baby.”

Julie’s head fell back. She wanted to, she really did. It felt so good. Much better than … than anything. She shuddered and curled her fingers into his hair. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to him if she said no now. After all, it was a proven fact boys needed sex more than girls. Starting this way and not finishing, well … it hurt them. She’d even heard that if it happened too often, their penises would go numb and eventually fall off.

And all because she wouldn’t go through with what she had started.

That would be awful. She would hate for that to happen to Ryan. Or any guy.

“You’re so beautiful, babe. So sexy. I love you. I really do.”

She drew away from him so she could gaze into his dark eyes. “You do?” she whispered. “You love me?”

“Sure, baby. I do. I love you so much. I can’t bear not to touch you. Let me in, Julie Cooper.” He moved a hand to the waistband of her shorts, unfastened the snap and slipped his hand inside. “Let me in.”

As his fingers brushed against her sex, she grabbed his shoulders, a low moan escaping her. She lifted her hips slightly so he could get his hand deeper between her legs, even as a part of her recoiled at her own behavior.

You’re the devil’s own, Julie Cooper. A Jezebel and a sinner.

Her father’s voice, his words, ones she had heard hundreds of times before, popped into her head. Cold washed over her, and she squeezed her eyes tight shut, trying to force her father out of her head.

Ryan loved her. That made it okay. It did.

She locked her thighs around his hand, her eyelids fluttering shut, tingling sensations rocketing through her. It felt so good. So incredibly good. Anything that felt so good couldn’t be wrong, no matter what her father said.

“Julie!” Someone rapped against the fogged window. “Is that you in there?”

“Get your ass out here!” another voice called. “If you miss your curfew—”

“Your dad’s going to kill you!”

Julie’s eyes snapped open. Andie. And Raven. They’d found her.

Dear God … her curfew.

She struggled to free herself, but Ryan locked his free arm around her waist, pinning her on his lap, his hand still between her legs. “Get lost,” he called. “We’re busy.”

“Julie!” Andie shouted, pounding on the window again.

“Are you nuts? Do you want to be grounded for the entire summer?”

Julie froze. Even one minute past her nine o’clock curfew would be met with severe punishment. An image of what her summer would be like passed before her eyes. No friends. No movies or parties or swimming. Hours spent on her knees studying the Scriptures and praying for forgiveness.

Her father at the pulpit, delivering his sermon, pointing at her, singling her out, calling her what she was.

Sinner.

She made a sound of terror. Her dad would do it, too. All of it. Without hesitation.

And if he had even one hint of what she had been up to, he would do worse, the way he always threatened. Send her away. Separate her from Andie and Raven. Send her to a place where she would have no one. She couldn’t bear to be alone like that again, the way she had been before Andie and Raven had become her friends.

Julie wiggled free of Ryan’s grasp. “I’m coming,” she called, scrambling around for her bra and shirt, yanking them on, then refastening her shorts. She found her hair band and pulled her long, wavy blond hair back into a high ponytail, combing it with her fingers. She dipped her fingers into her shorts’ pocket for her glasses, dark-rimmed, ugly things she hated and wore as little as possible. She had begged her father for contacts. He had refused, admonishing her sternly about vanity being the work of the devil, then had removed every mirror in the house save for the one in his and her mother’s bathroom, which he kept locked at all times.

Glasses clutched in her hand, she looked apologetically at Ryan. “Sorry. I had a great time.”

He cupped her face in his palms, his expression boyish and pleading. “Then don’t go. Stay with me, babe.”

Her heart turned over. He loved her. He really did. How could she leave when he—

The door flew open; light from the parking lot flooded the car’s interior. Andie stuck her head into the car. “Julie, come on! It’s twenty to nine.”

“Twenty to nine,” Julie repeated, a shudder of fear racing up her spine.

Ryan caught her hand. “Fuck your old man, babe. Stay with me.”

Raven appeared at the doorway then, all but growling at him. “Her old man is not who you want her to fuck. Get lost, creep.”

Andie grabbed her one arm, Raven the other. They pulled Julie out of the car, slammed the door behind her and tugged her toward the shortcut back to Happy Hollow, the subdivision where all three girls lived.

As soon as they had gotten out of earshot of the car, Julie shoved on her glasses and whirled to face Raven, her cheeks hot with fury. “How could you say that to him? You called him a creep. You … you used that word. The F-word. He’ll never want to see me again.”

“Please.” Raven made a sound of derision. “He is a creep, Julie. And the F-word is just a word. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There, I said it four times and nobody’s dead or anything.”

“Do you always have to be so crude? It makes me sick.”

“Do you always have to be so easy? It makes me embarrassed for you.”

Julie took a step back, feeling as if the other girl had slapped her. “Thanks a lot. I thought you were my friend.”

“And I thought—”

Andie stepped between them. “Stop it, both of you! If we don’t get out of here now, Julie’s sunk. What’s the matter with you guys? We’re supposed to be friends.”

“I’m not going anywhere with her.” Julie folded her arms across her chest. “Not until she apologizes.”

“Why should I? It’s true.”

“It’s not! Ryan said he loves me. That changes everything.”

The words fell between them like a dead cat. Andie and Raven exchanged glances.

“What?” Julie asked, indignant. “Why are you two looking at each other like that?”

“Julie,” Andie said gently, “you hardly know him.”

“That doesn’t matter. With love, that doesn’t matter.” She looked from one to the other, knowing she sounded almost desperate. Sudden tears stung her eyes. “He said he loves me, and I know he meant it.”

“How?” Raven muttered. “By his hard dick?”

Julie sucked in a sharp breath, hurt. “You guys are supposed to be my friends. You’re supposed to stick up for me. You’re supposed to … to understand.”

“We are your friends.” Andie squeezed her arm. “And we do understand, Julie. But friends are also supposed to try to protect each other. Guys will … they’ll say anything to get what they want. You know that.”

“But, Ryan—”

“Look, Julie,” Raven cut in, her tone that of an impatient mother with her toddler, “get real. You ran into the guy at the bowling alley. He’s never even asked you out.”

“He said he liked me all last year. He didn’t ask me out because he was a senior and I was a freshman and—”

“And time for a reality check,” Raven cut in, rolling her eyes. “Did you, like, take classes in being stupid?”

“Thanks a lot,” Julie said, nudging her glasses up to the bridge of her nose with her index finger, her voice quivering with hurt. “I guess it’s hard for either of you to believe that a boy as cute and smart and … and as important as Ryan Tolber would like me, ridiculous little Julie Cooper.”

“That’s not it at all.” Andie shot a warning look at Raven. “And you should know that. We think you’re the best. We think you’re too good for him. Isn’t that right, Rave?”

“Way too good,” Raven answered. “He’s not even in the same league with you.”

“Really?” Julie blinked back tears even as she glared at Raven. “Then why are you always so ugly to me? You act like you’re so much smarter than I am. Like you know so much more about everything. It makes me feel bad.”

“I’m sorry, Julie. It’s just that sometimes you act like all you care about is boys and making out. You know, if you keep this up, people are going to call you a slut. Some already do. And it really makes me mad.”

“A slut,” Julie whispered, her world rocking. “People are … they’re calling me a—” She looked at Andie in question, hardly able to see through her tears. Andie would never deliberately hurt her, but she wouldn’t lie, either. Andie never lied. “Are people … are they really … calling me that?”

Andie hesitated, then put an arm around her. “We’re just trying to protect you, Julie. Because we love you.”

Raven joined the other two. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I just get so pissed off when I see you setting yourself up to be hurt that way. You’re too good for guys like Ryan Tolber. He’s a user.”

“I’m sorry,” Julie whispered, turning and hugging Raven. “I know you’re only trying to help me. But you’re wrong about Ryan. You both are. You’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right,” Raven said, hugging her back. “I really do.”

“Guys,” Andie murmured, glancing at her watch, “it’s almost nine now. Any ideas how we’re going to get Julie home by her curfew?”

Julie looked at her friends, the full impact of her situation sinking in. “My dad’s going to kill me,” she whispered. She brought a hand to her mouth. “He’s going to … he’ll—”

She started to run. Her friends ran after her, but she didn’t pause or glance back, just continued to put one foot before the other. She pictured her father, standing at the kitchen door, watch in hand. She could almost hear his lecture, his litany of criticisms and accusations. His disappointment.

The clock on Thistledown’s town square began to chime, ringing out her defeat. She wasn’t going to make it. It was too late.

Julie stopped, panting, swamped by tears. “Why am I even bothering?” She dropped to her knees, despair overwhelming her. “I’ve done it again. Screwed up again. What’s the matter with me?”

“Nothing’s the matter with you.” Andie sank to the ground beside her and patted her arm. “Come on, don’t give up. We still have a chance.”

“No, we don’t. Listen to the clock.” It chimed the ninth and final ring, the last of it vibrating a moment on the night air before leaving silence behind. “I’m dead.” She covered her face with her hands. “He’s right about me. I’m no good at all. An embarrassment. A stupid, vain—”

“Don’t you say that!” Raven shouted and started to run. “He’s not right. He’s not!”

Confused, Julie leaped to her feet. “Raven, what are you … We can’t make it!”

Andie followed her up. They exchanged glances, then ran after their friend. “Raven,” they called in unison, “wait for us, we—”

Even as the words were leaving their lips, Raven fell, landing on her knees, catching herself with her hands, skidding on the road’s gravel shoulder.

With a cry, the other two raced to her side.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re bleeding!”

Raven ignored them and eased into a sitting position. She gazed at her badly skinned knees and hands. “Not good enough,” she muttered, turning her gaze to the rocky ground. She selected a jagged-edged rock about the size of a lime.

Even as Julie opened her mouth to ask her friend what she was doing, Raven drew her hand back and brought the rock crashing down on her leg. She barely flinched as the rock gouged a bloody path from her knee to her midcalf.

“There,” Raven said, her voice quivering. “That should do it.”

“Oh my gosh.” Julie brought a shaking hand to her mouth, gazing at the growing puddle of blood on the ground by her friend’s foot. “Raven, what … Why did you do that?”

Raven lifted her gaze. “I’m not about to stand back and let you take another round of your old man’s shit. I’ve been watching you take it since you were eight years old, and enough’s enough. This should take the heat off you.” She smiled, her lips trembling. “Your dad can hardly blame you for my accident. Why, despite fear of his reprisal, you did the Christian thing and stayed to help me. Give me a hand, will you?”

Julie grasped one hand, Andie the other. They helped Raven to her feet. She winced as she put her weight on her leg for the first time. “Man, that hurts.”

“Come on,” Andie murmured. “We need to get that cut cleaned. It looks pretty deep.” She bent and peered at Raven’s leg. She wrinkled her nose. “It might even need stitches.”

Stitches. Julie felt light-headed. Raven had done this for her. Hurt herself to help her.

“Do you think?” Raven studied the gash, her face pale. She swayed a bit and grabbed Julie’s arm. “Now my leg will match my face,” she murmured, referring to the long scar that curved down her right cheek, the result of a car accident when she was six. “Once a freak always a freak.”

“You’re not a freak!” Julie glanced at Andie, then back at Raven. “You have the hair and eyes of an angel, and you—”

“Have the face of a monster.” Raven laughed grimly. “You think I haven’t heard the guys call me Bride of Frankenstein behind my back?”

“They’re just immature jerks,” Andie said quickly. “Don’t pay any attention to them.”

“Spoken like someone who nobody’s ever stared at or whispered about. You don’t know what it’s like to be different.”

“You’d rather look like me?” Andie asked, holding her arms out. “There’s nothing special about me. Dishwater-blond hair, brown eyes. I don’t even have boobs yet and I’m fifteen.”

“Julie got ’em,” Raven said, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Julie got everyone’s.”

Julie felt herself blush. “You do so have boobs, both of you. Mine aren’t that big.”

“Compared to what? Watermelons?” Raven’s smile faded. “Don’t you guys get it?” She shifted her weight slightly, grimacing. “It doesn’t matter what other people think. It doesn’t matter if the whole frigging world thinks I’m a freak. All I care about is us, our friendship. I could be the most beautiful girl in the world, but I would be dead without you two. You’re my family. And like tonight, family always sticks up for each other. Always.”




2


An hour later, Andie stood at her front door, her head still spinning with the events of the night. She couldn’t stop picturing Raven bringing the rock crashing down on her leg. Raven had hardly even flinched, though Andie knew it must have really hurt. The gash had bled so much her white sneaker had turned pink.

But it had done the trick for Julie, that was for sure. Reverend Cooper had glowered at them, questioning them about their whereabouts before the accident had happened, obviously trying to trap them into confessing some mortal sin.

Through it all, Julie had looked almost comically guilty, but Raven had hammed it up for the Good Reverend, going on and on about the way Julie had stayed to help her even though Raven had begged her to go ahead and get home.

Raven was the best liar Andie had ever known.

And the best friend anyone could have. Andie didn’t think she would have the guts to do something like that, even if it meant saving her best friend’s butt.

In the end the worst he had delivered was a stern admonishment for them all to be more careful. Mrs. Cooper had cleaned and bandaged Raven’s leg, then driven them both home.

Andie turned and waved to Mrs. Cooper, then let herself in her front door. She shook her head. Raven was always doing stuff like that, charging fearlessly in to help her or Julie, never worrying about reprisals or being hurt.

That’s how she and Raven had met. It had been the summer she was eight, and Raven had just moved into the house next door. She had come upon Andie, surrounded by a group of neighborhood bullies on bikes. Raven had jumped in the middle of them, like some sort of supergirl out to save the day. Andie laughed to herself, remembering how awed she had been even though they had both gotten their butts kicked.

They had been instant best friends and inseparable ever since.

Andie headed for the kitchen, hungry. She plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Mom?” she called, noticing how quiet it was. “Dad? I’m home!”

“In here, pumpkin,” her dad answered from the den, his voice sounding funny, kind of thick and tight. Like he had a cold. “Could you come in here, please?”

“Sure, Dad.” She ambled for the den, polishing the apple on her T-shirt sleeve. She took a big bite, thinking about the way her dad had sounded. If it wasn’t a cold, he was probably pissed off about some dumb stunt her brothers had pulled. Twins, four years younger than she was, they were always getting into something they weren’t supposed to.

Brothers, Andie thought. They were such a pain.

Andie found her entire family in the den—her mother, father and brothers. She stopped in the doorway, moving her gaze from one to the next, the bite of apple sticking in her throat. Her mother’s eyes and face were red and puffy from crying, her dad’s face was stiff, his mouth set into a hard, grim line. For once, her brothers were quiet, their heads bowed and shoulders slumped.

Something was wrong. Something terrible had happened.

“Mom? What is it?”

Her mother refused to look at her, and Andie shifted her gaze to her father. “Dad? What’s wrong? Is it Grandma? Is it—”

Her mother looked up then, and the raw fury in her expression stunned Andie. She had never seen her mother look that way before. Andie took an involuntary step backward. “Mom? Have I done something wrong? I mean, I’m sorry if I’m late, but Raven fell and—”

“Your father has something to tell you.”

Andie turned to her dad. “Daddy?” she whispered, using the name she hadn’t called him in years. “What’s wrong?”

“Sit down, pumpkin.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not until you tell me everything’s okay.”

“Tell her, Dan,” her mother piped in, voice cracking. “Tell her how everything’s going to be okay. Tell her how you decided you don’t love us anymore.”

“Marge!”

Her mother’s voice rose to a hysterical pitch. “Tell her how you’re leaving us.”

Andie stared at her parents. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her happy family.

“No,” she said, hearing her own panic. “No, it isn’t true.”

“Honey—” Her dad stood and held out a hand to her. “This happens sometimes. Adults fall out of love with each other. This has nothing to do with you or your brothers.”

She heard his words, but hollowly, as if they had come from a great distance. They echoed in her head, mingling with the thunder of her own heart.

Fall out of love? Nothing to do with her?

He was leaving them. Leaving her.

She sucked in a quick, shallow breath, pain a living thing inside her. How could he say that? How could it have nothing to do with her if she felt like she was dying inside?

“This has nothing to do with any of you kids,” he continued. “I love you all as much as I always have.”

Andie darted a glance at her brothers. They were huddled together, clinging to one another. Pete was crying quietly; Daniel was not. Daniel stared stonily at their father, eyes bright with fury. With her brothers, the lines had already been drawn.

How typical of them, she thought. Though twins, they were as different as night and day. Pete was sensitive, emotional, exuberant; everybody’s favorite. Daniel on the other hand, was intense, serious, introverted. Unlike Pete, Daniel would hold his anger in—for days, weeks, months—seething. Daniel was not going to forgive their father easily; Pete already had.

What about her? What was she going to do?

“I’m not moving far away,” her father was saying. “I’ll be right here in Thistledown. We’ll see each other all the time. I’ve already discussed visitation with my attorn—”

“Your attorney?” her mother cut in, her expression stunned. “You’ve already seen an attorney?”

“Yes, Marge,” he said, swinging his gaze to his wife, “I have.”

Andie took another step backward. What had happened? she wondered. How could he look at her mother so coldly? Just this morning they had kissed, they had laughed together.

“I thought it would be best,” he continued, “to discuss my rights before I—”

“Best? Rights?” Her mother’s voice rose. “Your right to see your children only on weekends and half the holidays? You thought that would be best? Better than coming home to them every night?”

“That’s enough, Marge! I don’t think it’s appropriate to be having this conversation in front of the children.”

“Don’t you talk to me about appropriate behavior! Don’t you dare!” Her mother jumped to her feet. “We’re supposed to be a family.”

“The marriage just isn’t working for me.” He made a sound of frustration. “I’m not happy. I haven’t been in a long time. Surely you knew.”

Andie wrapped her arms around her middle, apple still clutched in one hand. Not happy? Her mom and dad almost never fought, had almost never disagreed. He’d kissed her mother when he left for work this morning. He did every morning. And every morning her mom kissed him back, then smiled.

A squeak of pain slipped past her lips. Now he wasn’t happy. Now he wanted to leave them.

Why? Had she done something to cause this? Had her brothers?

Tears choked her. She didn’t want her family to break up. She didn’t want her daddy to leave. She loved him more than anything.

“Don’t go, Dad,” Andie begged. “I want us to stay a family.”

He looked at Andie, then the twins. “We’ll still be a family, kids. We’ll always be a family. Where I live won’t change that.”

But it would. It would change everything. “I’ll help out more,” she said quickly, scrambling for a way to make everything all right. “I promise. Us kids, we won’t fight.” She looked pleadingly at her brothers. “Will we?”

“We won’t,” they said in unison, shaking their heads. “We promise to be good.”

“Honey, it’s not—”

“And I’ll baby-sit,” she went on, not wanting to give him the opportunity to speak, afraid of what he might say. “Whenever you ask, so you guys can go out. And I won’t complain about it, I promise. Just give me another chance. I’ll show you how good I can be.”

“You see, Dan?” her mother whispered, sinking back to the chair, the fight seeming to go out of her. “You see what you’re doing to your children?”

He ignored her and crossed to Andie. “Oh, pumpkin.” He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her to his chest. “It’s not you. It’s not your brothers. You guys are perfect.”

He drew back and looked into her eyes. “It’s me and your mom.”

Andie fought tears. She glanced at her brothers again, at the way they huddled together. They always did that, they had each other, they were a team. She had Raven and Julie. She shifted her gaze to her mother, sitting alone, her expression devastated. Her parents used to be a team. They used to have each other.

How could her daddy do this? How could he leave them this way? He was supposed to love them, no matter what.

Andie struggled free of her father’s arms and went to her mother. She knelt by the chair and wrapped her arms around her. For a moment her mother held herself stiffly, then she sagged against Andie, clinging to her.

“Andie, honey,” her father said softly, patiently, “I know you’re upset, but in time you’ll understand.”

“No, I won’t.” She shook her head, her tears spilling over. “You said family was everything. The most important thing. You lied.”

“I didn’t lie. I didn’t know. Things happen. They—” He looked at his wife. “Marge, help me out here.”

She stiffened. “You did this, Dan. You. Don’t ask me to help you make it better now.”

“Fine.” He moved his gaze from Andie to her brothers, then back. “This is the way it’s going to be. I’m sorry, kids, but it just … is. When you’re older, you’ll—”

“Understand?” Andie lifted her gaze to his, heart breaking. She shook her head. “I won’t understand, Dad. And I won’t forgive you. Not ever.”

For a long moment he simply stared at her, then without another word, he turned and walked away.




3


Andie lay on her bed, dry-eyed, completely spent. Moments after her father left, she’d heard his car and had run to the window and watched him go, watching until long after his taillights had been swallowed by the night.

Gone. Just like that.

She rolled onto her side. The house was unnaturally quiet. Still. Her brothers had gone to bed some time ago; her mother was now locked in her bedroom. Usually at this time of night, Andie could hear the muted sound of a late-night talk show coming from the TV in her parents’ room or her mom and dad’s hushed conversation. Once in a while the phone would ring, or the cat would meow outside her bedroom window.

Not tonight. Tonight it was as if the world had come to an end. Nothing was left for her but her own, agonizing thoughts.

Her dad was leaving them.

He didn’t love them anymore, not enough to stay a family, anyway.

Her thoughts, the truth of them, cut like a knife. She sat up, hugging her middle. She glanced at her closed door again, thinking of her brothers, picturing their devastated faces. With a sigh, she climbed off her bed and headed out of her room and down the hall to theirs. She opened their door and peeked inside.

“Are you guys okay?”

“Fine,” Daniel answered angrily, glaring at her. “We’re not babies, you know.”

“I know. But, I … I thought you might want to talk.”

“Andie?” Pete rolled onto his side, facing her. “I don’t get it. Mom and Dad, they were always so … I mean, I thought they were …”

His voice trailed off miserably, and Andie’s heart went out to him. “I thought the same thing.” She sighed. “I guess we were wrong.”

His face pinched up with an effort not to cry. “Are we going to see Dad at all anymore?”

“I don’t know.” She looked away, then back. “He said so.”

“But he’s a liar,” Daniel said, sitting up. “He’s a stinkin’ liar. I don’t care if I ever see him again. And neither does Pete.”

But Pete did care, Andie could tell. His eyes filled with tears, and he turned quickly away. She scowled at her other brother. “Shut up, okay. You don’t know everything.”

“I know more than you.”

“You wish. You’re just a kid.”

He jerked up his chin. “Well, I know something about Dad that you don’t. It’s a secret.”

“Sure you do,” she said sarcastically. “And of course it’s a secret. That way you can’t tell me.”

“I’ll tell you. Close the door. I don’t want Mom to hear.”

Andie made a sound of annoyance but did as he asked. That done, she folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, it’s closed. What’s the big secret?”

“Dad’s got a girlfriend.”

For a moment Andie simply stared at her brother, too stunned to speak. Then she curved her hands into fists and took a step farther into the room. “You’re lying. Take it back, Daniel. Take it back now.”

“I heard him talking to her on the phone. Tonight. He told her that … he told her he loved her. Before he hung up.”

“It’s not true.” Andie struggled to breathe past the lump in her throat. “You’re making it up.”

“I heard him, too,” Pete whispered brokenly. “He said … he said that after tonight—”

“They could be together,” Daniel finished, his anger and defiance fading. “He had to take care of us first.”

“No. It’s not true.” Andie backed out of her brothers’ bedroom, shaking her head, refusing to believe them. There was an explanation for what her brothers had overheard. Her dad wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t one of those kind of men.

She snapped their door shut, wishing she had left bad enough alone. Wishing she hadn’t goaded Daniel into telling what he supposedly knew about their father. Her dad wouldn’t do that, she told herself again. He wouldn’t.

As if her thoughts had conjured him, she heard her father’s voice. She swung toward her parents’ closed bedroom door, hope surging through her. He’d changed his mind. He’d come back. He wasn’t going to leave them after all.

She raced down the hall. Pete and Daniel were wrong about what they’d heard; it was a lie. She grabbed the doorknob, ready to burst in without knocking. She stopped short at the sound of her mother’s voice.

“—take everything you want now, because I swear to God you’re not setting foot back inside this house without a court order.”

“Fine, I’ll do that.”

Andie heard the click of latches being opened. She brought a hand to her mouth. He wasn’t staying, she realized. He was packing.

“I’m really sorry, Marge. I never meant for this to happen.”

“Spare me the big apology,” her mother answered, her voice thick with tears. “I’ve given you the last twenty years of my life, and you give me ‘I’m really sorry’? No thanks.”

“What’s with the wounded surprise? This has been coming for months. Years, really. It’s been over for a long time.”

“You have children,” she said. “How can it be over? You made a vow to me, Dan.” Andie pressed her ear to the door and heard rustling noises, like clothes being dug out of drawers. “A vow,” she repeated. “Don’t you remember?”

“I know,” he said heavily, sounding tired, more tired than Andie had ever heard him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she repeated angrily. “Sorry? If you were sorry you wouldn’t do this! There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

“Marge, don’t—”

“Someone you love more than me. More than us.”

“Stop it, Marge. For God’s sake, the children will—”

“That’s right, the children. Your children. What do you care about them? If you cared, you wouldn’t do this.”

“I care plenty, and you know it.”

“Right. You care. Who’s always here for them, chauffeuring them to this class and that field trip? Who gave up a career to raise our kids? Our kids, Dan. Not just mine.”

Andie squeezed her eyes shut, feeling as though she might vomit, not wanting to hear her mother’s words but unable to tear herself away.

“Always playing the martyr, aren’t you? You’ve been throwing your ridiculous little career up in my face for twenty years. You worked at the newspaper as a cut-and-paste girl.”

“I was a commercial artist!” her mom cried. “I loved it, and I was good, too!”

“Well, here’s your chance to get back to it,” he said, slamming what sounded like a bureau drawer.

“I know there’s someone else. I’ve known for months.”

“For God’s sake—”

“Tell me it’s not true, then. Tell me you haven’t been having an affair. Tell me you haven’t been screwing around behind my back.”

Andie pressed a fist to her mouth, holding back a cry, praying for him to deny it was true.

He didn’t deny it. His silence spoke volumes.

“I bet,” her mother continued, “whoever she is, she doesn’t have any children. She’s unencumbered. No runny noses to wipe, no childish disagreements to break up. Plenty of time to make herself look pretty and feel sexy—”

“I don’t love you anymore. I don’t love us anymore! That’s what this is about, it’s not about Leeza.”

“Your secretary?” Her mother’s voice rose. “My God, she’s twenty years younger than you are!”

Leeza Martin. Her father’s secretary. Andie squeezed her eyes shut, picturing her, young and pretty, wearing short skirts and a bright smile. Andie used to look at her and think she was so cute, she used to look at her and long to be as cute herself.

Pretty Leeza had stolen her daddy.

Andie’s stomach turned, the taste of hatred bitter on her tongue. All the time Leeza had been smiling and being so nice to her, she’d been … been … sleeping with her father. Breaking her mother’s heart.

Her mother was sobbing, begging him to stay, pleading with him to think of the kids. He made a sound of disgust. “How could you want me to stay if I don’t want to be here? How could you want me to stay only for the children? That’s not a marriage. It’s a prison.”

Andie sprang away from the door as if it were on fire. The tears, the pain welled inside her until she thought she would burst. She longed to throw herself at him and beg him not to go. To cry and plead. Just as her mom was doing.

It wouldn’t do any good. There was someone he loved more than his family, someplace he would rather be than here with them.

He had promised he would always be here for her. Always. He’d told her that nothing in the world was more important than his family, their happiness.

He’d lied. He was a liar. A cheater.

Raven. Her friend would help her; her friend would make everything okay.

Andie turned and ran back to her bedroom. She closed and locked the door behind her, crossed to the window and opened it. With one last glance backward, she climbed over the sill and dropped to the ground.

It was late, the sounds and smells of the night assailed her senses: the perfume of some night-blooming flower; the call of the crickets and a bullfrog; the scream of a horn somewhere in the distance.

Andie picked her way across her yard and through the hedge that separated the Johnsons’ property from their’s. A car swung out of the driveway across the street, momentarily pinning her in its headlights. Andie froze, afraid that Mrs. Blum, a third-shift nurse at Thistledown General, would see her and call her mom.

Mrs. Blum moved on. So did Andie.

Within moments, Andie found herself below Raven’s bedroom window, tossing pebbles up at the glass and praying her friend would come. How many times had Raven come to Andie’s window, seeking comfort? Too many to count, Andie acknowledged.

Now it was her. Andie’s chest ached at the realization. For the first time ever, her home didn’t feel safe and happy, it didn’t feel … perfect anymore. For the first time, she wanted to be somewhere else.

The moment Andie saw her friend’s face, she started to cry. Raven slid the window up, her expression alarmed. “Andie?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“My parents are … they’re splitting up.”

“No way.” Raven shook her head, her expression disbelieving. “Not your parents.”

“Yes, they’re—” Andie struggled to find her voice. “My dad’s … he’s leaving us.”

Raven leaned farther out the window. “Hold on,” she whispered, the breeze catching her white-blond hair and blowing it across her face. She swept it back. “I’ll be right down.”

A couple minutes later she emerged from the house, fully dressed. She came to Andie and put her arms around her. “Oh, Andie. I can’t believe it.”

Andie pressed her face to her best friend’s shoulder for a moment, clinging to her. “Believe it. He called us all together for this bogus meeting about how much he still loves us and everything.”

She wiped her runny nose with the back of her hand. “Then I heard the whole truth later. He’s been screwing around on my mom.”

Raven gasped. “Not your dad!”

“With his secretary.”

“That perky little bimbo? She’s … she’s like a Barbie doll. Your mom’s way better than her.”

Andie sank to the ground and dropped her face into her hands. “I feel so awful. I don’t know what to do.”

Raven sat beside her, wrapping an arm protectively around Andie’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How did you make it?” Andie asked brokenly. “After your mom took off, I mean. I feel like I’m going to die.”

For a long moment, Raven was silent, as if lost in her own memories. Then she cleared her throat. “You know what I think? That parents suck. Especially fathers.”

“I always thought I had the best family in the whole world. I never thought my dad could do—”

“Anything wrong,” Raven supplied, and Andie nodded miserably. “You thought he was perfect. A hero, or something.”

As she spoke, something crept into her friend’s voice, something mean. Something Andie didn’t recognize. Andie looked at her. “Rave?”

Her friend met her eyes. “But he’s no hero, is he, Andie? He’s just another prick.”

Andie looked away. It hurt to think of her dad that way. It hurt almost more than she could bear.

“Let’s get Julie.”

“Julie?”

“Why not?” Raven smiled. “Screw ’em all. Let’s get out of here.”

“But your leg. Can you, I mean, doesn’t it hurt?”

Raven glanced down at the bandage and shrugged. “Yeah, it hurts. So what? Worst case, I blow out a few stitches.”

Andie swallowed hard. “How many did you get?”

“Twenty. Would have been less but the cut was so jagged. You should have seen my dad, he turned green and had to leave the room.” She shook her head. “I don’t get human nature. My dad turning green at that? My dad? Unbelievable.” She got to her feet and held out a hand. “Come on.”

Andie shook her head. “You’re going to hurt yourself. I don’t want that.”

“It’s for you, Andie. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter if I get hurt, not when it’s for you.”

Andie agreed without saying a word. She didn’t have to ask where they would go after they collected their friend; she knew. To their place, the abandoned toolshed on the edge of one of farmer Trent’s fields. They had discovered it two summers ago and immediately claimed it as their special place. Small, dilapidated and smelling faintly of oil, they loved it. Because it was theirs. A place where they could be together and be themselves, away from prying parents and annoying siblings.

Julie lived on Mockingbird Lane, three blocks behind Andie and Raven, in Phase II of Happy Hollow. The two girls wound their way across and around the streets and connecting yards without discovery. Not that there was too much chance of that, the streets were deserted, every house dark and locked up tight.

Andie found the quiet unsettling. She moved her gaze over Julie’s street, taking in the row of houses with their unnaturally blank windows. Since R. H. Rawlings, a machine manufacturer and one of the town’s major employers, had closed six months before, about forty percent of the Phase II houses were for sale or rent and empty. Of the ten houses on Mockingbird Lane only three were occupied. Many of the empty homes were still owned by Sadler Construction, the builder. Andie had heard her father remark that it was a good thing the Sadlers had such deep pockets.

“It’s kind of creepy,” Andie whispered. “I keep getting this feeling, like all the houses are watching us.”

“They’re empty, Andie. Nobody lives in them, so how could they be watching?”

She inched closer to Raven. “They’re supposed to be empty, but what if they’re not? I mean, it would be so easy for someone to hide in one of them.”

“And do what? Jump out and grab some poor, unsuspecting teenager? I don’t think so.”

Andie made a face at her friend’s sarcasm. “It could happen. Look at those houses at the end of the circle. There’s nothing behind them but old man Trent’s fields. And the one on the left’s bordered by a wooded lot.” Andie shuddered, imagining. “That doesn’t spook you at all?”

“Nope.” Raven shook her head. “I like that they’re empty. There’s no nosy old busybody peering out her window at us, scolding us for crossing her yard and threatening to call our parents. I wish they were all empty.”

They reached Julie’s house, a beige-colored two-story with dark blue shutters, and went around to the rear. Their friend’s bedroom was on the second floor, in back. Luckily, her parents’ bedroom was on the other side of the house.

They had done this before, though they didn’t push their luck. Of all their parents, Julie’s father was the toughest. He believed in punishment as a daily cleansing ritual. It didn’t matter what Julie did, she always did wrong. He made it clear she always let him down.

When she really did let him down, he made his daughter pay in ways that scared Andie. Forcing his daughter to stay on her knees for hours reading the Scriptures, humiliating her publicly, controlling her in ways that went way beyond what any other parents did.

Andie was of the opinion that the Good Reverend Cooper, as she and Raven called him, was obsessed with sin and sinfulness, and that he kind of got off on it. It didn’t help that Julie looked more like a Playboy magazine centerfold than a regular fifteen-year-old. Andie also thought he was a complete A-hole and that Julie deserved lots better than him for a father. She only wished Julie thought so, too.

Raven scooped up some gravel and threw a few pieces at a time at Julie’s window. Within moments, Julie appeared. She saw it was them and raised the window and unlatched the screen.

“What are you guys doing here?” she whispered, then glanced nervously over her shoulder.

Raven grinned. “Come down and find out.”

“I don’t know.” Julie looked over her shoulder again, then back at them. “Dad was pretty suspicious tonight. After you guys left, he asked me lots of questions about how you got hurt. Then we had to pray for purity and forgiveness.” She lifted the screen higher and leaned her face out, squinting without her glasses. “How’s your leg?”

“Hurts. It’s no big deal.”

“She got twenty stitches,” Andie said.

“Twenty?” Julie’s eyes widened. “Oh, Rave.”

“Forget my leg, okay? Come on down.” Raven stuck her hands in her back pockets. “Your dad’s going to beat your ass even if you don’t come. He’ll find some reason, you know he will.”

Julie pushed her honey-blond hair away from her face and grinned. “If I’m going to go down anyway, I suppose I might as well have a little fun on the way. Give me a sec.”

A minute or so later, Julie appeared at the window once more, gave them a thumbs-up, then within moments emerged from her house, locking the door behind her. She hurried over to them.

“Andie’s folks are splitting up,” Raven said without preamble.

“Oh my God!” Julie swung to face Andie. “It’s not true, not your parents!”

Andie’s eyes welled with tears. “He told us tonight. He’s been … cheating on my mom. With his secretary.”

“No! That little blonde?” Andie nodded and Julie hugged her. “That really sucks, Andie. You know, I always thought your parents were so happy. So perfect. Like one of those TV families. And your dad, I thought he was the best and that you were so lucky.”

Andie started to cry. “So did I.”

“Great, Julie. You made her cry.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Well, you did anyway. Geez!”

Andie made a sound that was half laugh, half sob, then wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “It’s not Julie’s fault. I’m just upset, that’s all.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Raven said, “before Julie’s dad or one of her tattletale brothers gets up to take a pee and sees us out here.”

They started off, keeping to the shadows until they were well clear of Julie’s house. As they neared the bottom of the cul-de-sac, Andie stopped. “Wait.” She held up a hand to quiet them. “Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Music. Shh … there.”

The other two girls listened. They heard it, too.

“Where’s it coming from?” Julie asked, frowning. They were standing dead center between the four empty houses at the end of the cul-de-sac.

Andie strained to locate the source of the faint music. It floated on the night air, disembodied, there and then gone. It was odd music, disturbing somehow, with a slow, deep beat that made her pulse pound.

“We shouldn’t be hearing music here.” Andie looked at her friends. “Where would it be coming from?”

Julie glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the houses on her street. All were completely dark. “This is weird. Everybody on this block is asleep.”

“We’re not.” At her friend’s blank glances, Raven giggled. “Guys, get a grip. It’s probably coming from a couple blocks away. Sound carries on the night air. Which I should know.” She grimaced. “My parents’ fights were legendary, all over every neighborhood we ever lived in.”

“You’re right.” Andie laughed, sounding a bit breathless even to her own ears. “My imagination is working overtime.”

“But it is kind of creepy,” Julie said, rubbing her arms. “It’s so quiet otherwise.”

Raven laughed. “Come on you chickenshits. Follow me!” She took off in a sort of run-limp-hop because of her stitches; with a sound of surprise, the other two followed her. They cut across the backyard of the last house, then ducked into the twenty-foot stand of trees that separated Trent’s farm from Happy Hollow. Once in the open fields, it was easier to see; their shed stood out incongruously against the otherwise flat, barren field.

They reached it, but instead of going inside, climbed onto the metal roof, lay back and gazed up at the black velvet sky. Minutes passed; none of them spoke. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked.

“It’s so beautiful,” Julie murmured.

Raven murmured her agreement. “And so quiet.”

Andie folded her arms behind her head and breathed deeply. “It’s like we’re the only people in the whole universe. Just us and the stars.”

“What if it was just us?” Raven mused. “No asshole parents? Nobody making us be what they want us to be?”

“If it was just us,” Andie murmured, “I wouldn’t be so sad right now.”

“What about boys?”

Andie and Raven looked at each other, then burst out laughing. “Leave it to you, Julie.”

“Well, really.” She sniffed, sounding annoyed. “We’d have to have boys. You guys might be able to do without … well, you know, but not me.”

“Well, I could,” Raven said, her tone fierce. “Boys become men. Then they become like your dad or mine.” She made a sound of disgust. “No thank you.”

Andie looked at her. “They don’t have to be that way.”

“No?” Raven frowned. “Go ask your mom if I’m right.”

The girls fell silent for long moments, then Raven reached across and touched Andie’s arm. “I’m sorry I said that.”

“It’s okay.”

Raven propped herself up on her elbow. “Do either of you ever think about the future? Where we’re going to be? What we’re going to be?”

“College,” Andie offered.

“Together,” Julie added.

“But beyond that? Like, who do you want to be? And what do you want your life to be like?”

“That’s easy,” Julie said. “I want to be popular. I mean really popular. And I won’t feel bad about it. I won’t feel guilty about being pretty and having fun or about going out every single night if I want to.”

Raven sat up and drew her knees to her chest. “I want to be the one who says how it’s going to be. I want to be the one other people follow.”

Julie giggled. “You’ll probably be the first woman president.

They’ll put your face on a postage stamp or something.”

“This face? Please, I’d scare little children.”

“Stop that,” Andie said, frowning, feeling bad for her friend. “You’re gorgeous. The only reason the boys say those things about you is because they can’t get anything over on you. They call you freak ’cause they want into your pants and you won’t let them.”

For a long moment, Raven was silent. Then she cleared her throat. “Do you really mean that?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

Raven grinned. “I like that.” She inclined her head regally. “I accept your presidential nomination, Julie.”

Julie tipped her face toward Andie’s. “What about you? What do you want?”

Andie met her friend’s gaze. Tears choked her; she struggled to speak past them. “I just want my family back. I just want …” She made a strangled sound. “I used to think of the future and imagine myself married. To someone like my dad. I used to think that’s what—”

She bit back the words and sat up, wrapping her arms around her drawn-up knees. “I’d hear about bad stuff happening to other people, other kids’ families, but I never thought that could happen to me or my family. I thought we were … protected. Special.”

She turned to her friends. “How can he do this to Mom? How can he do this to me? And to Pete and Danny?” Her voice broke. “How?”

Raven scooted over and put an arm around Andie. “It’s going to get better.”

Julie did the same. “It really will. You’ll see.”

“No.” Andie shook her head. “I feel like nothing’s ever going to be okay again.”

“You’ve got us, Andie. That hasn’t changed.”

“That’s right.” Julie leaned her head against Andie’s. “We love you.”

Tears stung Andie’s eyes. She held out her hand. “Best friends.”

Julie covered it. “More than family.”

“Together forever,” Raven added, joining her hands to theirs. “Just us three.”

“Best friends forever,” they said again, this time in unison.




4


Andie passed the next two weeks in alternating fits and states of grief, anger, panic and betrayal.

Her father had completely moved out—his clothes and books, the plaques in his office, his golf clubs and tennis racket. Her mother had taken down every family picture in which he was included, she had emptied the pantry and refrigerator of the foods he and nobody else ate—the whole-grain cereal and Fig Newtons, his beer, the sprouted wheat bread and spicy brown mustard—not just throwing them out, but opening and emptying each one, then smashing the box or breaking the bottle.

Within days it had been as if he had never lived there at all.

Except in Andie’s memory. And in her heart. Andie had never realized the effect one person could have on a place, but her father had had a profound one on their home. The house was changed, it seemed empty now. Quieter. Sad. Even the smell had changed.

Her house didn’t feel like home anymore.

Even though she saw him on weekends, even though she knew he was trying to make up to her and her brothers, it wasn’t the same. She missed him being around. She missed the family—and the father—she’d thought she had. And, as angry as she was at him, as hurt, she still longed for him. She still longed to hear his deep voice call out that he was home at the end of the day, longed to hear the rumble of his laughter while he wrestled with her brothers, longed for the reassurance just knowing he was there had given her. A reassurance she hadn’t even realized she’d felt until now, until it was gone. She felt as if his leaving had ripped a huge hole in her life, leaving an empty place that ached so bad she sometimes couldn’t breathe.

Danny and Pete felt it, too. Either they were even louder and naughtier than usual or unnaturally subdued. Her mother hardly got out of bed. She was listless, uninterested in her children, friends, food or any of the other activities she used to throw herself into with such energy.

Andie had lost her father and her mother.

Andie did everything she could to help, to make her mother’s life easier. She never mentioned her dad, never expressed her own feelings of fear or despair. She helped with the house and the cooking and her brothers.

Raven and Julie had pitched in. They’d baked cookies, made beds and run the vacuum for her, they’d run to the grocery whenever Andie needed bread, milk or peanut butter. They were her constants, her anchors. With them she still laughed, with them she shared all her feelings, good and bad.

For the first time Andie understood the devastation Raven must have experienced when her mother left, for the first time she truly understood Raven’s fierce loyalty to their friendship.

Raven and Julie truly were her family now.

“Andie? Andie, are you okay?”

Andie blinked, realizing Raven was speaking to her. She moved her gaze between her two friends. They were sitting on Raven’s bed, listening to music and eating chips; both were staring at her, their expressions concerned. Andie averted her eyes, shocked at the tears that sprang to them, shocked that after two weeks just thinking of her father could still make her cry.

She forced herself to meet her friends’ gazes. “Mom and I … yesterday we went downtown to look for new … sheets for her bed. She doesn’t want to … sleep on the old ones.”

“I can dig that,” Julie said, shuddering. “I wouldn’t want to, either. It’d be too sad.”

“The thing is,” Andie continued, “we were in the car, at the stoplight by the McDonald’s, and I … we—” Her throat closed over the words, and she cleared it. She clasped her hands together. “He was in the car next to us. With her.”

The other girls squealed with disbelief. “No way!”

“They were … she was … right on top of him. You know, kissing him and—”

Andie bit the words back, unable to go on. She brought her hands to her eyes, wishing she could block out the image of her father and the other woman. “He’s not supposed to be kissing anybody but my mom. It’s not right.”

“It’s disgusting!” Julie sat up, indignant. “I still can’t believe your dad’s doing this. I just can’t.”

Andie dropped her hands and looked at her friends. “Mom saw them, too. She got hysterical. That was yesterday, and she hasn’t come out of her room yet. I called Grandma. She came to help us.”

“It’s that Barbie doll’s fault,” Raven said suddenly, narrowing her eyes. “She stole your dad.”

“I hate her,” Andie said. “I wish she was dead.”

Raven moved her gaze between the other two. “She’s a lying, husband-stealing little bitch and she should be punished. We have to come up with a plan.”

Julie leaned forward. “Punished? Like how?”

Andie made a sound of frustration. “Get real, Rave. As much as I like to fantasize about frying the little slut in hot oil, the fact is, my dad left my mom. He left me and my brothers. She couldn’t have done it without his cooperation.”

Raven shook her head. “She stole him. These things don’t just happen, Andie. She set out to get your dad … and she did.”

Andie thought of the times she, either alone or with her mother and brothers, had stopped by her dad’s office. She pictured Leeza’s short dresses and tight tops, pictured the way she had hovered around her father, as if trying to keep them from seeing him. As if she were his wife and Andie’s mom the interloper. Andie remembered being uncomfortable with the way the other woman had looked up at her dad from under her dark lashes, the way she had every so often touched his arm, so lightly it was like a caress.

Andie’s blood boiled. Raven was right. Leeza had set out to steal her father. “How do we get her?”

“We could roll her house?” Julie offered, reaching for a handful of chips from the bag between them on the bed. “Or egg it?”

“Worse,” Raven said.

“Like what?”

Raven smiled. “We could hit her over the head and bury her in the backyard.”

Julie nearly choked on her chips, and Andie slapped her on the back while rolling her eyes at Raven. “Very funny.”

“It was just a thought.” She propped her chin on her fist. “I’m going to have to think about this.”

“Wait a minute.” Julie reached for another bunch of chips, turning her gaze to Andie. “Doesn’t she have some fancy little sports car?”

Andie thought of the way she had once admired the car and of the way she had wished her dad would get one just like it. Now, no doubt, he could drive it anytime he wanted. Hatred burned in the pit of her gut. “Yeah. A bright red Fiat. She leaves the top down all the time, except when it’s raining. She thinks she’s so cool.”

“Do you know where she parks it?”

“Oh, yeah. At my father’s office building. Around back, in the shade from that row of trees.”

Julie giggled and clapped her hands together. “I say we key it. Or let the air out of her tires.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Raven murmured. “We want to do something that’ll really hurt her. At the very least, scare the crap out of her. I mean, she stole Andie’s dad. That’s a lot to be punished for, and a paint job can be repaired.”

“Let’s just drop it,” Andie said, her stomach beginning to hurt. “We’re not really going to do anything, and just talking about her—” She sucked in a quick breath. “Let’s talk about something else. Okay?”

So they did. They talked about an upcoming pool party and what they would wear, boys—in particular Ryan Tolber and why Julie shouldn’t call him—and the new Michael Jackson music video.

Julie sat up suddenly. “I almost forgot to tell you guys! That music, I heard it again.”

“What music?” Andie asked, rolling onto her side to check the time on Raven’s bedside clock.

“You know, from the other night. That was coming from the empty house.”

Andie saw that it was time to go home and make sure the twins were in bed. She sat up and began collecting her things. “It wasn’t coming from the empty house. Remember? We decided.”

“But I heard it again,” Julie offered. “The other night, when I was walking Toto. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“You’re weird,” Raven said, tossing a pillow at her. “Music coming from empty houses? Wouldn’t surprise me if you suddenly claimed you were abducted by little green men. And that they’re great kissers.”

“They are.” Laughing, Julie tossed the pillow back. “Great kissers!”

Next thing Andie knew, a feather pillow hit her square in the face, knocking her back onto her butt on the bed. With a squeal of surprise, she grabbed a pillow, scrambled to her knees and swung.

It was war. Each girl swung until her shoulders ached, they laughed until their sides hurt so bad they could hardly breathe. Raven was, as always, the last to call “Give!” and as she took her final shot, her pillow split and feathers flew.

A half hour later, smiling to herself, Andie made her way across Raven’s yard and into her own. As she shimmied through a bare place in the row of oleander bushes that separated the two properties, a car passed, music pouring out of its open windows.

Andie stopped, listening as the sound faded quickly away, remembering what Julie had said. She had heard that strange music again. On her quiet little street.

Andie didn’t know why that suddenly seemed wrong to her. She didn’t know why it felt so … ominous. But it did. Prickles crawled up her arms and she rubbed them. Silly, she told herself, starting off again. She was being silly.

Just because other sounds weren’t carrying for blocks, just because the same music had been heard twice, seeming to come from someplace it shouldn’t, that didn’t mean anything weird was going on.

But what if it did? The prickling of goose bumps returned, this time racing up her spine, all the way to her hairline. What if their imaginations weren’t running away with them and someone really was in one of those empty houses?




5


“I’ve been thinking about what Julie said the other night, about hearing that music again,” Raven murmured, two nights later as the three girls sat on Andie’s bed, an open Cosmo and a half-dozen bottles of nail polish between them, all shades of pink, from pale to shocking. “It just doesn’t seem right to me.”

Andie reached for one called Blush. She painted her thumbnail, then blew on it. “I was thinking the same thing. Hearing it twice like that, that’s got to be more than a coincidence.” She held out her hand to inspect her nail, then frowned. “Why do you suppose girls always wear pink?”

“That’s just the way it is,” Julie said, inching her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. “Girls are pink, boys are blue.”

“I suppose.” Andie decided she didn’t like the shade and reached for the polish remover.

“Guys—” Raven made a sound of impatience “—what if somebody is in one of those empty houses?”

Andie looked at her. “Why would they be?”

“Why indeed? That’s the question.”

Julie glared at them. “You guys are creeping me out. Stop it. I’ve got to live there.”

“Exactly.” Raven sat up. “I think we should check it out.”

“Now?” Julie held out her hands. “My nails are wet.”

“Your dad’s going to make you take it off anyway.” Raven looked at her friends. “What else do we have to do?”

“Nothing, I guess.” Andie looked at Julie. “What do you think?”

She shrugged. “Okay by me. I’ve got to be home in an hour anyway.”

After telling Andie’s mom they were going over to Julie’s house, the girls headed outside. They took the shortcut, angling through several backyards, dodging a particularly vicious Doberman pinscher, dragging Julie away from a couple of guys they knew who were shooting hoops in a driveway, reaching Julie’s street within minutes.

They went to the end of the cul-de-sac and gazed at the four dark houses.

“This is so exciting,” Andie whispered. “What if we actually discover something?”

Julie giggled nervously. “I’ll pee my pants, that’s what.”

Andie glanced at Raven. “Which one do you think the music was coming from?”

Raven considered the houses a moment, squinting in thought. They were all dark; their windows eerily empty. All four had For Sale signs in the yard, two of them still sported the builder’s signs. The one-story ranch houses were modest in size, though equipped with all the latest appliances, conveniences and colors. Though the lots weren’t large—not as large as those in Phase I—the developer had taken care to leave as many trees as possible. The big shade trees gave the appearance of a richer, more established neighborhood.

“That one,” Raven said finally, pointing to the one farthest left. “It’s the most secluded. There, next to the empty lot. And look—” she pointed “—that streetlight’s out. If I was up to no good, that’s the one I’d want to be in.”

The other two girls murmured their agreement and fell into step behind Raven. Darting glances in every direction, they crept around to the back of the house. Julie poked Andie in the back, making her jump. “Boo,” she whispered, giggling.

Andie brought a hand to her heart and scowled at her friend. “Stop that. You about gave me a—”

“Shh.” Raven held up a hand. “Listen.”

Andie did, heart thundering. A moment later she leaned toward Raven. “I don’t hear anything.”

Julie put her head close to theirs. “Me neither.”

Raven grinned. “Gotcha.”

“Very funny.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Raven laughed softly. “Come on.”

They crept to the first window and peered in. The room beyond—it looked as if it was supposed to be a bedroom—was empty. They made their way to the next window, then the next, finding the same thing. An empty laundry room, breakfast room, kitchen.

Then they hit pay dirt. A chair. A single, high-backed, wooden chair, the kind you’d find at a desk or dining table. Only there was no table or desk, no television, lamps or anything else in the room.

It looked strange, parked there, a sort of centerpiece. Andie tipped her head. No, not a centerpiece. A kind of audience to an empty stage.

Andie shivered. “This is the one. I’ll just bet.”

“Me, too.” Raven turned to Julie. “Are you sure no one bought this house?”

“Positive.” She rubbed her arms. “My mom was talking about it with Mrs. Green just a couple weeks ago. All four of these houses are still available. Mrs. Green was really weirded-out about it, ’cause there’s a chance Mr. Green’s going to be transferred and she’s afraid they won’t be able to sell.” Julie sucked in a deep breath. “Besides, the For Sale sign is still in front.”

“What now?” Andie whispered. “A few pieces of furniture doesn’t mean some ax murderer has taken up residence in an empty house.”

“Let’s try the door.”

Andie held her breath as Raven did, letting it out when she saw that it was locked. Next, her friend tried the windows. They, too, were locked.

“Come on, Raven.” Andie glanced around nervously. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Just a sec.” Raven stood on tiptoe and ran her hand along the top of the door frame. “Bingo,” she said, holding up a key.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Andie shook her head. “And isn’t this against the law?”

“Is it?” Raven arched her eyebrows. “We have a key. That’s not like breaking and entering or anything.”

“People go through model homes all the time,” Julie piped in. “That’s all we’re doing.”

Raven inserted the key into the lock. Andie took a step back. “You guys, what if somebody really lives here? What if they’re home?”

Raven made a face at her. “Wiener. Chicken out if you want, Julie and I are going in.” She looked at Julie. “You’re with me, right?” The girl nodded, and Raven eased open the door.

Andie watched her two friends slip through the door, then disappear inside the house. She waited, heart pounding. The moments ticked past with agonizing slowness. What were they doing? What did they see?

“Guys,” she whispered, “what’s going on?”

They didn’t answer. Andie inched closer to the door, straining to hear her friends inside. When she couldn’t, she peeked around the doorway. Still nothing. Feeling like the wiener Raven had called her, she followed them inside.

The door opened onto the kitchen. Adjacent to it was the family room with its one chair, and beyond it, the entrance foyer and dining room. A hallway led to what Andie supposed were the bedrooms.

Creepy, she thought, hugging herself, chilled. Obviously empty, yet something about it felt occupied. She turned slowly, taking in the fast-food bag on the counter, the cups in the sink; hearing the hum of the air conditioner.

“Rave?” she called softly. “Julie?”

“Here,” Raven answered. “Come see what we found.”

Andie went down the hallway and found her friends in the master bedroom. It was a large room with a vaulted ceiling and exposed wooden beams. There wasn’t a bed, just a couple of big floor pillows and a stool, the kind her mom had at the breakfast bar in their kitchen.

And a tape deck. A nice one. Andie crossed to it, squatted and popped open the cassette holder. Nothing.

“The boom box proves it.” Julie looked from one of her friends to the other. “This is where the music was coming from. Somebody’s using this house.”

“But for what?” Andie shook her head. “There’s something really weird about this. I don’t like it.”

“No joke. Let’s get out of here.”

They started back toward the kitchen. Andie peeked in the bathroom as they passed it. It, too, showed signs of limited occupation. A shower curtain, a cup by the sink. But no towels or toiletries.

Back in the kitchen, Julie shivered. “It’s like someone’s living here, but not. Like a ghost, or something.”

“A ghost?” Raven repeated, pointing to the McDonald’s bag on the counter. “Get real, girl. Whoever’s using this house is a flesh-and-blood human being.”

Which made it all the more scary, as far as Andie was concerned. She crossed to the gently humming refrigerator, opened it and peered inside, squinting at the sudden light. A bottle of wine and a six-pack of beer, some cheese and a bunch of grapes.

Raven peered over her shoulder and grinned. “Beer?”

“Oh no you don’t. If you take one, they’ll know we were in here.”

“So what?” Raven reached around her. “It’s not like they’ll know it was us who—” She stopped, frowning. “What’s that rumbling sound? It’s kind of like—”

They all froze, as if realizing simultaneously what it was. The automatic garage door. Opening.

“Oh shit.” Andie looked at her friends. A door opened then slammed. A car door. “What do we do?”

“Hide,” Raven managed to say, her voice a frightened croak. “Now!”

Andie looked wildly around, her heart in her throat. She grabbed Julie’s hand and darted for the walk-in pantry door. She pushed Julie inside, then ducked in behind her, not having time to get the door completely shut before a man entered the kitchen.

Andie held the knob to keep the door steady, her heart hammering nearly out of control. Cracked open about an inch, she was able to watch the man’s progress.

He didn’t turn on a light, so she couldn’t make out his face or features, only that he was tall, dark-haired and dressed casually. He went to the refrigerator and opened it. Light flooded the dark kitchen, though his back was to her. A moment later she heard the pop and hiss of a can being opened. He was drinking beer. Thank God they hadn’t taken one. He would have known they were here.

He shut the fridge and turned, staring straight at the pantry. He stood unmoving a moment, his eyes seeming to meet hers. Her heart stopped; he started toward her.

Fear exploded inside her. Andie held her breath, dizzy with emotion, certain that her next moment was going to be her last. She squeezed her eyes shut, a bead of sweat rolling down her spine, slipping under the elastic band of her panties.

Behind her on the floor, Julie stirred. Don’t move, Julie. Don’t breathe.

The man stopped in front of the pantry door. He reached out. And pushed the door the rest of the way shut. The latch clicked into place.

He hadn’t discovered them.

Now they were truly trapped.

Andie brought a hand to her mouth to hold back her cry of relief and panic. What did they do now? she wondered, shifting slightly so she could see Julie’s face now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. And where was Raven?

Julie’s eyes were wide and terrified. Andie felt her friend’s rising hysteria; it mirrored her own. She fought the urge to scream. To just open her mouth and let out a wail of terror, and then run for it. Past the man. The man who had no business being in this house, in this neighborhood. The man who could be anyone. Or anything. A rapist or murderer.

Instead, Andie held tightly to her control and brought a finger to her lips to signal Julie to be quiet. Her friend nodded and pressed her face to her drawn-up knees.

The minutes seemed like hours. An eternity. As they ticked past, the pantry became hotter, closer. It was like a tomb, an airless box. Andie began to sweat; the urge to scream, to run, grew. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to last.

She counted to ten, then twenty, forcing herself to breathe evenly. She told herself everything would be all right. The pantry was empty. If he didn’t hear them, there should be no reason for him to open the door. As long as they were quiet, they would be okay. So would Raven.

She closed her eyes, imagining him there in the dark, drinking his beer. Imagined him turning suddenly toward the pantry door, sensing their presence, their panic. The way a predator in the wild does.

The metallic taste of fear nearly gagged her. She strained to hear him. Every so often she thought she heard him stir, his footfall, his rhythmic breathing. She couldn’t be sure.

She held her breath and prayed. Please, God. Please make him go away.

The prayer played in her head, over and over again until she suddenly realized she was digging her nails into her palms, that she was light-headed from holding her breath.

At the same moment she realized it had been quiet for some time.

The pantry door flew open.

Her cry shattered the quiet.

It was Raven. With a sob of relief, Andie tumbled out, Julie behind her. They fell into each other’s arms, clinging to one another.

“Where were you?” Andie cried. “I was so worried he’d see you!”

“In the dining room. Are you guys okay?”

“Fine. Fi—”

“I want to go home,” Julie said, her teeth beginning to chatter. “I want to go home.”

Raven caught Julie’s hands and rubbed them. “What do you think he was up to?”

“I don’t know. It was so weird. He—” Andie bit the words back, new fear taking her breath. “Are you sure he’s gone? Are you sure—”

“He’s gone.” Raven indicated the family room. “He went the way he came in.”

Andie looked in the direction Raven pointed. “What if he comes back? He could be hiding, waiting for us.”

“Why would he do that?” Raven shook her head. “No, I heard the garage door. He’s gone.”

“I want to go,” Julie said again, starting to cry. “I don’t like it here. He could have hurt us.”

Andie hugged her. “It’s okay, sweetie. He didn’t touch us. He’s gone. You’re fine.”

“But he could have! If he’d found us, he could have done … anything. No one knew we were here!”

“Who was he?” Raven asked softly, as if speaking to no one but herself.

Andie turned to Raven. “I didn’t get a look at him. Did you?”

The other girl gazed at her for a moment, then shook her head. “You didn’t see his face? I thought for sure you had. He was right there.”

“It was dark, and when he came close I drew back from the door.” Andie pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach. “I think I closed my eyes, too. I was so scared he was going to find us.”

“Me, too.” Raven let out a long breath. “I was too afraid to peek around the doorway.” She laughed, the sound high and excited. “What a rush.” She laughed again and crossed to the breakfast counter. “Come see. He left these.”

Andie followed her friend. She stared down at what looked like two folded pieces of black fabric.

“What are they?” Andie asked.

“Scarves.”

Raven moved to pick one up; Andie caught her hand. “Don’t touch it.”

“Why not? I’ll put them back the way I found them.” She shook off Andie’s hand and picked one up. It was long and narrow and semisheer. “It’s so soft. Feel it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Andie did. The fabric slithered through her fingers, as soft as butterfly wings. “My mom has a scarf that feels like this. It’s silk.”

“Silk,” Raven repeated. “Why did he bring these here? What are they for?” She met Andie’s eyes. “Who is he, Andie? What’s he doing here?”

Andie searched her friend’s gaze. “I don’t know. But I don’t think we need to find out.”

Julie came up behind them, white as a sheet. “I don’t feel so good. I want to go.”

Andie nodded, then nudged Raven who had turned her attention back to the scarf. She seemed almost mesmerized by it and her own questions. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“They’re for a woman, that’s for sure. But who? Why did he bring them here? And why two of them?”

Julie moaned and bent slightly at the waist. Andie put an arm around her. “Come on, Raven,” she said again. “Julie’s sick.”

As if only just realizing Andie had spoken, Raven looked blankly at her. “What?”

“Julie’s sick. We’ve got to get out of here.”

Raven nodded, refolded the scarf, then the three of them left the way they had come in. As they did, Andie glanced back at the dark house. She was never coming back here, she promised herself. Never.




6


For the next few days, all Andie and her friends could talk about was the mystery man and their brush with danger. They were certain Mr. X, as they had begun to call him, was up to no good, but they could only speculate as to what kind. Which, for Andie and Julie, was enough. Neither girl had any desire to get that close to Mr. X or that house again.

Raven, on the other hand, wanted to find out exactly what Mr. X was doing. “Aren’t you guys even curious?” she asked her two friends. They sat in Andie’s front yard, drinking Cokes. Even in the shade, the midday air was stifling.

“Nope. Not that curious, anyway.” Andie brought her cold, damp can to her forehead. “I just want to forget it.”

“Me, too,” Julie added. “I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”

“Listen to yourselves, guys. You say you want to forget it, but it’s all you can talk about. Besides,” Raven persisted, “how can we forget it? We were in that house. We know something’s wrong with that guy.”

“I don’t know that.” Andie flopped back onto the grass, cursing the heat. “Neither do you. We were the ones who were wrong. We didn’t belong in there.”

“He didn’t either.” Raven leaned toward Andie. “That house is supposed to be empty.” She turned to Julie. “Be honest, you thought something about him was wrong. Didn’t you?”

“Well … he was pretty creepy.” Julie rubbed her arms.

“And Rave’s right, Andie. He wasn’t supposed to be in there.”

“You guys are nuts.” Andie sat back up, looking at the two in disbelief. “We weren’t supposed to be in there. We broke in, for Pete’s sake. Get real.”

“You get real.” Raven drew her knees to her chest. “This is our neighborhood. It’s Julie’s street. What if he’s some sort of freak? A murderer or a … a child molester?”

“A murderer? A child molester?” Andie rolled her eyes. “The guy drank a beer in a house we think is supposed to be empty. Come on, Rave, you’re taking this too far.”

“I don’t think so. Read the newspaper any day of the week. Those freaks are everywhere.” Raven lowered her voice. “You don’t want that kind of person in our neighborhood, do you? Around Julie’s little brothers? Around yours?”

“No, but—”

“Geez, Andie—” Raven made a sound of disgust “—you used to be the one who looked out for everybody. Remember? You used to care about right and wrong. You used to do something about it.”

“I still care. But I’m not sure this guy’s doing anything wrong. I mean, of course we were scared. We should have been, look what we were doing. Maybe he’s perfectly innocent. He probably has every right to be in that house.”

“Be honest, Andie. You don’t believe that.” Raven faced her. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t think the way he came in and sat in the dark drinking a beer was weird? Tell me you don’t think there’s something strange about a partially filled house that’s supposed to be empty?”

“And don’t forget those icky black scarves,” Julie piped in, making a face. “That was so creepy.”

Andie closed her eyes and recalled the quiet way the man had moved around the kitchen, the measured sound of his breathing, how he had made her feel, and she shuddered, gooseflesh racing up her arms. She rubbed them, feeling chilled despite the heat of the day. “Okay, okay. He was creepy. The whole thing was weird. So what?”

Raven turned to Julie. “Tell her what you found out.”

Julie leaned conspiratorially toward them, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper. “I asked my mom about the house again, you know, just to be sure. I asked if it had been sold or rented or anything, and she said she didn’t think so. She said she had even mentioned that house to Mrs. Butcher, the real estate agent.” Julie dragged in a deep breath. “Mrs. Butcher told her all four houses were still owned by the builder.”

Andie shuddered again, her chill going clear to her bones. “So, what do we do?” she asked, looking from one friend to the other. “Go to our folks?”

Raven pursed her lips. “And what do we tell them? That when we broke into the house we discovered someone living there?”

“My dad would kick my butt for even looking in a window.” Julie shook her head. “If he ever found out what I did …”

She let the thought trail off, but all three knew that the Good Reverend Cooper was capable of any number of horrible punishments, including splitting the three of them up. For good.

“We could say we heard music,” Andie offered, rolling her Coke can between her palms, staring at the grass. “We could say we thought we saw someone go into the—”

“Andie!” Julie grabbed her arm. “Look, it’s your dad.”

He was turning into the driveway. The way he had countless times before. He was coming home. “I knew it,” she whispered, turning to her friends. “I knew he couldn’t do it. He’s coming back, you guys.”

Raven and Julie exchanged glances. Raven cleared her throat. “Andie, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Why else would he be here? In the middle of the day?”

He opened the car door, and she jumped to her feet and ran toward him. “Hey, Dad!”

He turned and looked at her, his face white with rage. Andie stopped in her tracks, her pleasure evaporating. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Where’s your mother?” He slammed the car door. “Is she inside?”

“I think so. I—”

“You stay here, Andie. This is between me and your mother.”

Andie watched him head for the house, then scurried after him, despite his order that she not. He reached the front door and opened it without knocking. “Marge,” he called, stepping inside. Then louder, “Marge!”

She appeared at the kitchen doorway, her expression lifting at the sight of him. “Dan? What a surpri—”

“Save it,” he snapped. “What the hell are you trying to pull?”

Her face fell. “Pull? I don’t know what you—”

“Don’t hand me that bullshit. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Andie made a small sound of surprise, stopping only steps behind him. She could count on one hand the times she had heard her father swear. She looked at her mother, confused. If he had come to ask their forgiveness, why was he swearing? If he wanted to come home, why was he so mad?

He fisted his fingers and took a step toward his wife. “Leeza could have been killed, Marge. Killed. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? What kind of person are you?”

This was about Leeza, Andie realized, crushed. He had come here about her. Not because he loved and missed his family. Not because he wanted to come home. She inched backward, wishing she had done as her father had asked and stayed outside.

“A snake in her car?” he continued. “Couldn’t you have come up with something a little less obvious? Something that didn’t point directly at you?”

“A snake?” Her mother brought a hand to her throat. Andie saw that it trembled. “You’re not suggesting that I … that I had anything to do with that?”

“Are you saying you didn’t?” His voice dripped sarcasm. “Are you saying you didn’t slip a garter snake into her car, knowing what might happen while she was in traffic? Hoping the worst might happen?”

“Dad!” Andie burst out, shocked. “Mom wouldn’t do that! How could you even say that?”

He swung toward her, paling slightly. “I thought I told you to wait outside.”

Andie tipped up her chin, furious at him, a smart reply springing to her lips. Before she could utter it, her mother jumped in. “This is Andie’s home. Unlike you, she has a right to be here.”

He looked from one to the other, as if just realizing how his accusation made him look to his daughter. “She could have been killed,” he said again, voice shaking. “She’s in the hospital, for God’s sake. She’s—”

“Seems to me,” Raven said from behind them, “those are the chances you take when you decide to screw somebody else’s husband.”

Andie gasped and swung around. Raven stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth set. Julie stood a few paces behind her, her face bright with embarrassed color.

Dan Bennett turned, too, trembling with rage. “How dare you, young lady. You have no business here. You are not a member of this family.”

“Family?” Marge repeated, stepping forward. “You’re the one who’s no longer a member of this family. I’d like you to leave.” She crossed to the door and swung it open. “And don’t you ever enter this house without an invitation again.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something further, then closed it, turned on his heel and stalked past Raven and Julie. Moments later, he backed out of the driveway, tires squealing as he did.

For a full minute no one said anything, then, as if realizing everything that had occurred, Marge cleared her throat. “I’m sorry you girls had to see that.” She shifted her gaze to Raven, then hesitated, as if unsure what to say to her.

Raven beat her to it. “I’m sorry I said that, Mrs. B. It just makes me so mad, what he did to you.”

The woman’s expression softened. “Thank you for caring, Raven. But I can … and should, fight my own battles. All right?”

Raven nodded, and Julie reached out and touched Marge’s hand. “We think you’re the greatest, Mrs. B.”

“That’s right,” Raven added. “He’s the one who should be apologizing. We love you.”

Her friends’ words seemed to calm her mother. Once again Julie and Raven had come through for her and her family. And once again she wondered what she would do if she ever lost them.

“Thank you, girls,” Marge murmured, smiling, though not, Andie saw, without effort. “You’re all very sweet. And I … I—” She turned to Andie. “Go on now. I know there are things you girls are wanting to do, and hanging out with an old lady isn’t one of them.”

Andie’s chest tightened. “You’re not old, Mom.”

“Older than you three,” she said firmly. “You go. I have work to do around here, and you’re keeping me from it.” She gave Andie’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “Really. Go on now. We’ll talk later.”

Andie nodded, turned and led her friends outside. They took their places under the maple tree, not speaking for long moments.

After a time, Julie leaned over and caught Andie’s hand. “I’m sorry, Andie.”

“Yeah,” Raven murmured. “Me, too.”

“Thanks.” She blinked against tears. “You guys are the best.”

Raven leaned back against the grass and smiled up at the blue sky. “At least the little slut learned a lesson.”

Andie turned and looked at Raven. “What?”

“The little slut. Leeza. She had it coming.”

She had it coming. Andie caught her breath, remembering. The three of them sitting on her bed and talking about ways they could get even with Leeza. Discussing the things they could do to her to make her pay. Discussing the kind of car Leeza drove and where she parked it.

But that had been just … talk. Just the three of them joking around.

Hadn’t it been?

A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Andie looked from Raven to Julie. Julie was staring at Raven, her expression horrified.

Maybe not.

“Raven,” Andie whispered, “you didn’t … I know we talked about making Leeza pay, but that was just … we were just kidding around. Right?”

Raven met Andie’s eyes. “Were we? Just kidding around? Don’t you hate her guts?”

“I do. But … but she could have died.”

To that, Andie was greeted by complete silence. Then Raven shook her head. “You said you wished she was dead, Andie. So, why do you care? What if she had died? If you ask me, the little bitch got what she deserved.”

For a moment, Andie couldn’t speak. She hated Leeza for taking her father away. She did. But … saying she wanted her dead wasn’t the same as meaning it.

Surely Raven understood that.

“Gosh, Andie, don’t look at me like that.” Raven laughed and sat up. “I didn’t do it, for heaven’s sake. I’m only saying that I don’t care that it happened and neither should you. Look what she’s done to your family. To your mom.”

“That’s right,” Julie piped in, looking relieved. “Rave wouldn’t do something like that. But I don’t feel bad for that little witch, either.”

Andie brought a hand to her chest. “For a moment there, I thought you …” She let the words trail off. Something about Raven’s expression, something bright in her eyes, made her uneasy. She cleared her throat. “But … how do you think the snake got in her car?”

Raven shrugged. “You said she leaves the top down all the time. I bet that stupid little snake dropped out of the trees she parks under and curled up under her seat for a nap.”

“I bet you’re right.” Julie giggled. “The same thing happened to Mrs. Beasely, from church. Only it was bird poop. It landed right on her head. She got nearly hysterical.”

Raven hadn’t done it. Of course she hadn’t. Andie laughed weakly. “What would I do without you guys?”

“Go crazy.”

“Become a total spaz.”

The three laughed. “So what do we do now?” Andie asked.

“I say we get back to our little mystery.” Raven lowered her voice to an excited whisper. “We watch the house. We figure out what he’s up to. That shouldn’t be hard. The house is surrounded by trees. My dad’s got binoculars—”

“So does mine,” Julie offered.

“Good. Then, when we find out what he’s up to, we bust his ass. We go to our folks, they go to the police and we’re heroes.”

Andie drew her eyebrows together. “And what if he’s not up to anything?”

“Then we chalk up the whole thing to overactive imaginations.”

“It is kind of exciting,” Julie murmured. “I feel like Nancy Drew.”

Andie had to admit her curiosity was piqued. What if this guy was up to no good? What if he did mean someone harm? She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if that was true and she had sat back and done nothing.

“When do we start?” she asked.

“Tonight.”

She let out a long breath. “Okay, I’m in. On one condition.” The other two looked at her. “We don’t go in again. Not ever, no matter what. I mean it, or no deal. Otherwise, I go to our folks. Deal?”

Julie nodded, then looked at Raven. The girl paused a moment, then acquiesced. “Deal.”




7


The three friends had made their plan for watching the house. They would spend the afternoons and after-dinner hours, barring any unexpected monkey wrenches, together. They split the rest of the days and nights into shifts, their times determined by their home situations.

Julie took the early-morning watch not only because her house was on the same street as the one they were watching, but also because her dad operated under the belief that most sin took place later in the day. Combined with the fact that the morning hours were busy ones in the Cooper household, Julie had a good bit of freedom before 10:00 a.m.

Raven’s dad, on the other hand, gave her an incredible amount of latitude—as long as she was waiting for him when he arrived home from work, dinner on the table and a smile on her face.

Andie filled in the weekday time gaps. Between her mom’s job hunting and her constant depression, she hardly even noticed if Andie was around.

Weekends were up for grabs, though; because of increased activity on the street the girls didn’t think they would see their mystery man then anyway.

They had found the perfect lookout in a huge oak tree in the empty lot next to the house. A couple of years back, some kids had begun to build a tree house in its big branches, but had been forced to abandon it when the lot’s owner had discovered their handiwork. Though nothing more than a wide platform, it fit the three of them comfortably, shielded them from sight and afforded them a clear view of the house’s driveway.

So far, however, there had been no sign of their mystery man.

Frustrated, they had decided to try something new. Both times they’d heard the music, it had been late—past eleven. So tonight they had decided to sneak out of their houses and meet at the platform at ten-thirty sharp. It was now ten to eleven.

“Where do you think Rave is?” Julie asked, glancing at her watch.

Andie shrugged. “Maybe she couldn’t get out. You know, sometimes her dad stays up late.”

Julie caught her bottom lip between her teeth, obviously worried. “You don’t think he found out what we’re up to? If he did, he’ll go straight to our parents. You know he will.”

Andie peered toward the street. “Naw. Raven’s dad would be the last to find out something. Raven’s too smooth to get caught.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Julie shivered and rubbed her arms. “I guess I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

Andie brought the binoculars to her eyes. The mystery house was as dark and deserted-looking as always. Weird, she thought. The whole thing was weird.

“There she is!”

Andie swung the binoculars to the street. Sure enough, Raven was making her way toward the empty lot at a jog. Moments later, she crashed through the underbrush, heading in their direction.

“We were getting worried,” Julie called in an exaggerated whisper.

“Sorry,” Raven answered, skidding to a stop under the tree and looking up at them, struggling to catch her breath. “Wait till you hear this, you’re not going to believe it. My dad’s dating! That’s why I’m late. We had to have dinner together. They’re going out dancing now.” She took another deep breath. “I had to wait for them to leave.”

“Dating?” Andie scooted to the right to make room for Raven. “That’s hard to believe.”

“No kidding.” Raven climbed onto the platform. “I was blown away.”

“I always thought it was sweet,” Julie murmured. “The way he pined for your mom. Sitting on your patio for hours, just kind of staring off into space.”

“Real sweet.” Raven made a face. “Anyway, I played super nice for this lady, making like my dad was some sort of superhero or something. I felt like warning her instead.” She brought her hands to her mouth, megaphone-style. “Caution, asshole ahead!”

Julie burst out laughing. “Raven, you kill me. Your dad’s not that bad.”

“No,” she said softly, looking her friend dead in the eye. “He’s worse.”

For a moment, all three girls were silent. Andie cleared her throat, uncomfortable. Julie flushed, obviously embarrassed and at a loss for words. They both looked away. It wasn’t what Raven had said about her dad, but the way she had said it. The way she always sounded when she talked about him.

Like he was some sort of monster.

Andie had the feeling there was something Raven hadn’t told her about her dad, something important. Something really bad.

Andie shook her head slightly, as if to rid herself of the traitorous thought. What wouldn’t Raven have told her? They were closer than sisters; they shared everything with each other, they had from the moment they met.

“Look!” Julie elbowed her hard. “It’s him!”

Andie turned. Sure enough, a car was coming down the hill and turning into number twelve Mockingbird Lane’s driveway. Raven had the binoculars, although Andie doubted she could see much in the dark. As they watched, the automatic garage door went up; the car disappeared inside, then the door lowered.

“Did you see his face?” Andie asked. Raven shook her head and Andie let out a frustrated breath. “Darn it.”

“You guys,” Julie hissed. “Another car.”

Andie and Raven turned. It was. Another car. Pulling into number twelve’s driveway, into the garage.

Raven lowered the binoculars. The girls looked at each other. “Two cars?” they said in unison.

“It’s a woman,” Raven said. “I saw her. She checked her reflection in the lighted visor mirror while she waited for the garage door to open.”

Andie sat back hard. “Holy shit.”

“It’s a romance,” Julie whispered. “A love affair.” She sighed. “That’s so cool.”

Raven frowned at her. “Then why the scarves? Why the music late at night? Why meet in an empty house?”

The three girls looked at each other. “What now?” Andie asked.

“We go down there,” Raven answered. “We get some answers.”

“And just how do you propose we do that?”

“We peek in the windows.” Raven grinned. “How else?”

“No way.” Andie looked at Julie who was already shimmying out of the tree. “You guys are crazy. No way am I going down there to peek in those windows.”

Five minutes later, Andie followed Raven and Julie around the back of the mystery couple’s house. As they approached the first window, they ducked down to avoid being seen. When they reached it, they cautiously eased up to peer over the ledge.

The room appeared to be empty.

They crouched down and went to the next window, then the next, each time with the same results. Andie was beginning to believe the whole thing was going to be a bust, when Raven motioned frantically from the window just ahead.

Andie went, though she couldn’t believe she was doing this. Her heart was pounding so fast and hard she felt faint. She continued anyway.

She peered over the windowsill. The room was dark save for the glow from a single, flickering candle. It took Andie’s eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness; when they did, she saw the man. He sat in the lone chair in the room, his back to the window.

It was him, she knew. The man from the other night.

Then she saw the woman. She stood several feet in front of the man, arms at her side, still as a statue. She wore a conservative suit—knee-length skirt and short jacket. Her white blouse was high-necked and buttoned all the way up. Her shoes were low-heeled, her hair styled in a conservative bob.

She fit the image of banker or accountant or president of the PTA. Except for one thing.

She was blindfolded.

With a black silk scarf.

One of the ones they had seen the other night, Andie realized, a lump lodging in her throat. Maybe the one she and Raven had touched, the one they had run through their fingers.

A funny sensation settled in the pit of her gut, queasy and uncertain. She looked at Raven and Julie. They met her eyes. The expression in theirs told her that they’d recognized the scarf, too. That they felt the same about it as she.

Moments passed. Andie didn’t breathe; the woman didn’t move. Then the music started, the same stuff they had heard twice before. With it, the woman began to sway, as if in time to the music, though her movements seemed halting to Andie. Almost uncertain. Or frightened. She brought her hands to the lapels of her jacket. Slowly, she slipped the garment off her shoulders. It dropped to the floor.

She tugged her blouse from under the skirt’s waistband, then moved her hands to the collar of her blouse, to the row of tiny buttons that ran from throat to hem. She struggled with them; Andie imagined that her fingers shook. One by one each button slipped through the hole; the delicate fabric parted.

She was stripping. Being forced to strip.

With the realization, Andie’s mouth turned to ash, her heart began to thrum. She wanted to jump up and shout—pound on the window to frighten the woman out of the trance she appeared to be in or to frighten away her captor. She told herself to look away or duck down.

She did none of those. Instead, she continued to stare, paralyzed by shock and disbelief as the woman removed one piece of clothing after another.

Stripped down to bra, panties and half slip, she stopped. In the feeble, flickering light of the one candle, shadows danced crazily on her pale skin.

The man stood and left the room, walking past her without even a glance. Andie held her breath. Run, she silently urged. Grab your clothes and go.

But the woman didn’t move. Not a muscle, it seemed to Andie.

What was wrong with her? Why didn’t she—

She wasn’t a prisoner. She wanted to be there.

Andie brought a hand to her mouth and dared a glance at Raven and Julie. Their faces reflected each of her own emotions—shock, disbelief, a kind of fascination mixed with revulsion. She gazed at them, afraid to speak, willing them to look at her. Hoping if their eyes met, they would all come to their senses and leave this place.

But they didn’t look her way, and Andie turned back to the window and the nearly naked woman, standing like a mannequin before it.

Moments passed, though it could have been minutes—even hours—for all Andie knew. She had lost all sense of time and reality. It seemed like aeons that the woman stood unmoving, half-naked and alone.

The man returned. Again, he strolled past the woman without looking at or touching her. As if she weren’t there, Andie thought. As if she didn’t matter enough even to glance at.

Andie struggled to see his face before he turned his back to them and sat down, but came up with only impressions: of dark hair and features, of strength and beauty. And of evil.

Rampant and blackhearted. Like the devil Julie’s dad was always warning about.

Andie decided she hated him. Fiercely. The emotion reached up and grabbed her by the throat until she felt both choked and exhilarated by it.

He lit a cigarette. The sudden, tiny flame illuminated his profile for a fraction of a second, then left it more inscrutable than before. Smoke curled, snakelike, through the light of the candle at his feet.

The woman moved. She eased the slip over her hips and down. It puddled on the floor at her feet, and she stepped out of it. Next, she brought her hands to the back-clasp of her bra; she struggled with it a moment, then with almost agonizing slowness, she took the garment off.

The panties, small and plain white, came next. She eased them off, then dropped her hands to her sides and stood completely still before the man, as if awaiting his instruction.

Heat washed over Andie; she began to sweat. She had never seen a naked woman before. Not like this, not just … there. She and her friends had changed clothes in the same fitting room, she had seen her mother when she had burst into the bathroom without knocking, but that had been … natural, kind of innocent.

But this was different. Unnatural. Anything but innocent.

All of it. The man and the woman. The music. Her and her friends spying on them this way.

Still, Andie didn’t look away. The woman was beautiful, pale and slim but with the kind of curves Andie dreamed of someday having. Cheeks burning, she moved her gaze over the woman, stopping with a sense of shock on the dark triangle of hair at the top of her thighs.

Suddenly, Andie became aware of the labored sound of her friend’s breathing, the pounding of her own heart, of Julie’s fingers wrapped around her forearm in a death grip.

The woman took a halting step toward the man, then another, seeming to feel her way in her darkness. When she reached him, she stopped, paused for a moment, then knelt at his feet.

She lowered her head to his lap.

For one dazed moment, Andie wondered what the woman was doing.

Then she knew.

This wasn’t happening, she told herself, sucking in a strangled breath. Not in Thistledown. Not in her own neighborhood.

But it was.

With a squeak of fear, she ducked down, grabbing her friends’ hands and dragging them with her. They stared at each other in shocked silence, then looked away, embarrassed and uncomfortable. Andie opened her mouth to whisper something to break the silence, but nothing came. It wasn’t so much that she couldn’t speak as that suddenly she didn’t want to.

The three ran. Away from the window and back to the abandoned tree house in the empty lot. Breathing hard, they scrambled up the makeshift ladder and onto the platform.

Several moments passed in complete silence except for the sound of their ragged breathing. Andie stubbed the toe of her sneaker against the platform floor, the need to speak nearly strangling her. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to say to her friends.

Suddenly, Julie giggled. Self-conscious, she slapped a hand over her mouth. Still, she giggled again. Raven and Andie looked at her, and she shook her head. “I can’t help it. It was so …” Julie flushed. “You guys, she was … blowing him.”

Andie brought her hands to her face. “I can’t believe they … I mean, that? Here?”

“No joke.” Raven drew her knees to her chest. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. It was wild.”

Andie made a face. “And what was that blindfold all about?”

“They’re sex perverts,” Julie answered, looking at Andie. “I saw a book in the library about it. In the psychology section. It was called sexual—” she thought for a moment “—sexual deviation. I think that was it.”

Sexual deviation. Just as Andie couldn’t rid herself of the sensation of gooseflesh crawling up her arms, she couldn’t shake the image of the woman standing blindfolded and naked in the dark.

She looked at Raven, then Julie. “That woman, why does she do that for him?”

The other two looked blankly at her, then at each other. “I don’t know,” Raven answered, shrugging. “Because she likes it?”

“But how could she?” Andie continued, wishing she had seen the man’s face, wondering if, somehow, she would understand if she had. “It was so … awful. It seemed, I don’t know—” She searched for the right word. “Demeaning,” she said, finding it. “Like the woman was nothing and he was everything. Like she was a slave and he was her master.”

“Gross,” Julie said, screwing up her face. “I sure wouldn’t do that for anybody.”

“No kidding.” Raven looked thoughtful. “What do we do now? We could drop it, but it was just so weird … so wrong.”

“Do you think …” Andie hesitated a moment, knowing what she was about to suggest was far-fetched, but feeling as if she had to say it. “I know that the woman … that she showed up alone and all, but do you think she could have been … that maybe she wasn’t there of her own free will?”

Julie widened her eyes. “What do you mean, like she was kidnapped?”

“Or being blackmailed.”

The other two said nothing, just gazed at Andie, their expressions troubled.

“I don’t know,” Julie murmured after a moment, her cheeks pink. “Maybe. But why would she do that? What could be so bad that she would get in a car and drive someplace she didn’t want to be and do something like that?”

“Something really bad,” Raven answered softly. “Life-and-death.”

Andie glanced down at her hands, realizing that she had them clasped in front of her so tightly her knuckles stood out white in the darkness. She lifted her gaze to her friends’, suddenly thinking of something that hadn’t occurred to her before. “Guys? Why two scarves?”

The question landed heavily between the girls. They looked at each other.

“He brought two,” Andie prodded. “Remember?”

For a moment nobody said a thing, they didn’t even seem to breathe. Julie jumped as a creature scurried in the branches above them, then she rubbed her arms, as if chilled.

Raven swore softly. “This guy’s a freak. We can’t let it go. We’ve got to figure out what’s going on. Agreed?”

Julie hesitated, then nodded. “I’m with you, Rave. We can’t let it go.”

They turned to her. Andie squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could stop thinking about the woman, about what she had seen. Wishing she could go back to an hour before she had peeked through that window. If she could, she wouldn’t look through it.

But she couldn’t go back, as much as she longed to.

Releasing a breath she hadn’t even realized she held, she inclined her head. “Agreed.”




8


Raven sat in her dark kitchen, awaiting her father’s return. She waited up for him even though it was nearly 1:00 a.m., because he expected it, expected it from a daughter to whom her father, her family, was everything.

Absolute loyalty. Complete devotion. Those were the things that mattered.

She hated his guts.

Raven brought a hand to her right temple and massaged the spot, the tiny fist of pain that had settled there. She had headaches often, some blinding in their intensity, but she had learned to live with them. They were a part of her life, of who she was, just as the scar that curved down her right cheek was.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose, the events of the night, the events she and her friends had witnessed, whirling in her head. Something important had happened tonight. Something important to her, though she didn’t know why she was so certain of that.

Her exhilaration, her excitement, hadn’t been sexual. She had been spellbound, but not by the woman and what she had been doing. By him, the man.

Raven rested her head against the chair’s high back. Who was he? she wondered. What gave him such power over that woman?

And why couldn’t she put him out of her head?

She hadn’t been able to since that first night, when they’d all been in the house together. Contrary to what she’d told Andie, she had screwed up her courage and peeked around the corner from her hiding place—and seen his face. He had the features of a hawk, she thought, picturing him, all sharp angles and intense. He was older, not like her dad, but older than any of the guys she knew, probably in his twenties.

Raven frowned and rubbed her temple again, guilt plucking at her. She didn’t know why she had lied to her friends, she hadn’t planned to. The words, the lie, had simply slipped past her lips.

Andie and Julie were her best friends. They were her family. It was wrong to have lied to them. She had never kept anything from them.

Until now. Until this.

It was for their own good, she told herself. She was protecting them. The way a parent did a child.

But protecting them from what? she wondered. From who?

Raven thought of the man again. He knew many secrets, she was certain of it. Secrets that gave him power—over other people, over life and death. Tonight had been proof of that.

She wanted to learn his secrets.

From outside she heard the sound of a car door slamming. Her father. She straightened and turned toward the kitchen door, pasting on an expectant and welcoming smile.

The door opened. Her father stepped through.

“Hi, Daddy. How was your date?”

“Raven, honey.” He beamed at her. “You waited up.”

“Of course I did.” She smiled and stood. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a cup of sleepy-time tea.”

“Thanks, honey. That sounds good.”

He took a seat and she busied herself putting on the kettle and getting out the mugs and tea. “So,” she asked, her back to him, “how was it? Do you like her?”

“It was good. She’s a nice woman. Did you like her?”

Raven didn’t turn. She feared he would read in her eyes what she really thought—that he was a son of a bitch and she wished he was dead. “Yes, Daddy,” she said. “She did seem very nice.”

For a moment he was silent. She sensed his gaze on her back, sensed him assessing her every movement, her every word and its inflection. She had played this game with him so long it had become second nature, yet still she lived in fear that he might someday see through her.

And then she might end up as her mother had, trying to run away in the dead of night.

He cleared his throat. “I know what you’re thinking, Raven,” he said softly. “You can’t hide your thoughts from me.”

Her fingers froze on the tea bags, and she forced a stiff laugh. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. Look at me, please.”

Schooling her features to what she hoped portrayed a look of innocence, she did as he asked, turning slowly to face him.

“I know what you’re worried about,” he said. “You’re worried I’ll get involved with Marion and things will change.”

“No, I’m not.” She shook her head. “Really, Dad.”

He frowned. “You know I like you to call me Daddy.”

“I’m sorry.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Thank you for reminding me.”

He stood and crossed to her. He caught her hands, and gooseflesh raced up her arms. She walked a very fine line with him, she knew. If he ever discovered her disloyalty, if he ever even suspected it, he would take care of her. The way he had taken care of her mother.

She swallowed her fear. That wasn’t going to happen. She wouldn’t allow it to happen.

She was smarter than he was.

He squeezed her fingers and looked her straight in the eyes, demanding that she do the same. “You’re worried it will be the way it was with your mother. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” she lied. “Maybe I’m a little worried about that.”

He smiled tenderly, and she wanted to retch. “It won’t be that way, sweetheart. I promise you. Marion’s not the way your mother was. She’s loyal. And honest.” His eyes filled with tears. “I loved your mother more than anything, Raven. It broke my heart when she left us. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, understanding that he had loved her mother that much. Love, it seemed, took many forms. “I know that.”

He tightened his hands over hers and she had to fight not to flinch from the pressure. “Family is everything,” he said fiercely. “Loyalty counts above all.” He moved his gaze over her face. “No one will come between us. I won’t allow it. Do you understand?”

“Of course.” She forced an adoring smile. “Family is everything.”

He smiled and brought his hands to her hair, hanging loosely down the sides of her face. He tucked it behind her ears. “Why do you wear your hair this way? You know I like it pulled back.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I guess I forgot. Tomorrow, I’ll wear those new barrettes you bought me.”

“That’s my girl.” He bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then dropped his hands. “Run along to bed. It’s late.”

Just then the kettle screamed. Raven jumped, nearly leaping out of her skin. “I’ll get it,” she said, swinging toward the stove. She reached for the kettle. “You just sit—”

He caught her hand. “You’re nervous as a cat tonight.”

“Just tired.”

“I’ll take care of the tea. You go on to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“All right.” She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Good night, Daddy.”

As she turned and walked away, Raven smiled to herself. One morning, he wouldn’t see her. One morning, when the time was right, he would never be allowed to see her again.




9


Julie awakened with a start, a silent scream on her lips. Terrified, she moved her gaze over her dark bedroom, looking for the beast in every shadow, the monster who had come to take what was left of her soul.

After a moment, the outlines of her furniture began to take shape; the silhouette of the tree in her window, the pile of discarded clothes in the corner. Her breathing slowed, her heart with it.

Only a bad dream. Nothing to be really frightened of.

But she was frightened. Julie pressed her lips together, realizing they were trembling. Realizing, too, how close to tears she was. The nightmare had been so real and vivid. So awful.

Her reaction had been worse.

She had been turned on. Sexually aroused, even in her sleep.

Julie rolled onto her side, curling into a ball of misery and self-disgust. The dream had been a reenactment of the scene she, Andie and Raven had witnessed that night. Only she had been the woman, blindfolded and performing for the man. She had been the one who stood before him naked and completely vulnerable, the one who had knelt before him and taken his penis into her mouth.

She should have been ashamed, terrified or repulsed. She should have been desperate to escape.

She had loved it, instead. She had reveled in it.

What was wrong with her?

Just remembering, her body began to throb again. Julie squeezed her thighs together, wanting to stop the sensations but knowing she couldn’t. Knowing that once again, she had lost control and her body wasn’t her own.

Julie turned her face to the pillow and moaned, the tingling sensation building between her legs. She rocked slightly, and the folds of flesh at the apex of her thighs rubbed together, a trick she had learned years ago. She had used it in church, at the dinner table, during Scriptures.

Even as she told herself to stop, she rocked harder, squeezed tighter. The tingling ignited, becoming fire. Her mind emptied of everything but the heat, the need for that moment of complete oblivion and electric nothingness.

The moment where Julie Cooper, her life, her body itself, ceased to exist.

It arrived. She brought her fist to her mouth to hold back the sound that rushed to escape. One of pleasure and pain. The pleasure of the moment. The painful truth that in the experience, it was already over.

Back to life. Her life.

Julie Cooper lived.

Pleasure and pain. As the throbbing eased, she thought of Andie and Raven. Julie’s eyes welled with tears. What would they think if they knew the truth about her? If they knew what she did, how she touched herself? Would they still want to be her best friends?

They wouldn’t; she knew they wouldn’t.

Earlier that night, as she had peered in that window with her friends, she had been afraid, so afraid, that Andie and Raven would see how excited she was, that they would know what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

She had been so ashamed, she had wanted to die.

Her thoughts returned to the dream. In it, she had been that woman; she had crossed to the man and had eagerly taken his penis into her mouth.

Remembering, her stomach rose to her throat. Unlike the real scene she had viewed, it hadn’t ended there. Suddenly, her blindfold had been stripped away. She’d lifted her eyes.

And seen the hideous, red face of her lover.

She’d had the devil inside her mouth, his penis, his sperm bubbling up, gagging her.

She had clawed at him then, trying to free herself. He had tipped back his massive horned head and laughed. She couldn’t escape him. They were joined forever.

You have the devil inside you, girl. You always have.

Julie drew her knees tighter to her chest, her father’s voice ringing in her head, the devil’s laughter with it. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could blot them out. Wishing she could crawl out of herself, become someone else, someone new and clean and good.

Clean and good. The way she hadn’t felt in a long time, not since the terrible Easter morning so many years ago. She drew in a shuddering breath, the memory unfolding in her head. She had been seven years old, standing in front of her bedroom mirror, gazing admiringly at herself. In her new Easter dress, bonnet and white patent-leather shoes, shoes so shiny and bright she could see herself in them, she had felt like a princess. A beautiful princess.

She had giggled and whirled around, her long blond curls swinging with the movement. From downstairs, Julie had heard her two brothers playing, laughing and tussling with each other, from the bathroom down the hall her mother humming “Amazing Grace.” The new baby had been asleep in the nursery; her father had been running through his sermon one last time. This was her father’s first big sermon for his new congregation here in Thistledown, and Easter Sunday was the most important day on the religious calendar. His new congregation expected something especially rousing today. Julie had heard him tell her mother that he didn’t want anything to go wrong. Not this time.

Julie ran her hands over the dress’s tissue-like fabric, liking the way it rustled against her legs. Something had gone wrong at their last church, the one in Mobile. Julie didn’t know what, she only knew that some men from the congregation had come to see her dad one night, and after they left she had heard her mom crying.

Not long after, they had moved here, to Thistledown and Temple Baptist Church.

Julie pirouetted again, delighted, wishing she could dress like this every day. When she grew up she would, she decided, tilting her head this way and that and smiling at herself in the mirror. She fluffed her hair and pursed her lips, imitating the way she had seen an actress do it on a shampoo commercial. Would the other girls think she was pretty? she wondered. Would they like her?

Maybe today, she thought hopefully, beaming into the mirror, at the egg hunt and picnic after the last service, she would make a friend.

“What are you doing?”

At the sound of her father’s angry voice, Julie froze. She dropped her hands and turned slowly to face him, her heart thundering. “Nothing, Daddy,” she whispered.

He took a step toward her, his expression thunderous. “I’ll ask you once more, daughter. What were you doing?”

She swallowed hard, past the sudden knot of tears and fear that choked her. She hated when her father got this way; it scared her. She never knew what answer he was looking for, never knew what she had done to anger him.

“Just … getting ready for … church, Daddy.”

“Linda!” he bellowed, vibrant red starting at the place where his clerical collar met his neck and moving upward.

Julie took an involuntary step backward. “Daddy, really, I wasn’t doing anythi—”

“Vanity is the work of the devil,” he said. “It tempts us, teasing and cajoling until we love ourselves more than God.”

She shook her head. “No, Daddy, I wasn’t—”

He was across the room so fast she didn’t have time to react. He grabbed her bonnet and snatched it from her head, taking some of her hair with it. She cried out in pain.

“Don’t lie to me! I saw the devil in your eyes. I saw the admiration, the self-love for your reflection.”

“No, Daddy! Please—”

He grabbed the hem of her dress and yanked it up over her head. She heard the delicate fabric rip, an awful wrenching sound. A sound she felt as if a physical blow. Sobbing, she tried to cover herself, naked save for her underwear and tights. “No … please … I didn’t mean to be bad,” she begged. “Give me another chance. Please, I—”

He turned her toward the mirror, forcing her arms to her sides so she would face her nakedness. “See yourself, sinner.” He shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “What’s to admire now, I ask you? Without the Lord, what are you but dirty flesh and foul spirit?”

As if from a great distance, Julie had heard her mother’s cry of distress, her brother’s muffled giggles. Her father had released her, and she’d crumpled to the floor. Only then had she seen her mother standing in the doorway staring at her with a look of pure horror, her brothers behind her, both of them making ugly faces at her.

A sound of despair had flown into her throat like vomit, and she’d held it back. Just as she’d held back her tears, her self-pity. Such expression was just another form of vanity, her father said. Another form of self-love over God-love.

Her father had ordered her mother to find her something less provocative to wear, something that wouldn’t tempt her to stray from the path of righteousness.

She had gone to church that day in a plain brown jumper and scuffed loafers; she had gone marked by sin, so vain and wretched she wasn’t even allowed to wear pretty dresses and bonnets like the other girls.

Instead of welcoming smiles, she had been greeted with curious stares from the other children. Their gazes had slipped over her, and they had wondered, she knew, why, on the highest holy day of the year, the reverend’s daughter was dressed the way she was.

They hadn’t had long to wonder. Her father had told them.

He had been at the pulpit, delivering a rousing sermon. As he spoke, his fiery gaze kept coming back to her.

“You’re sinners!” Her father’s voice had boomed through the church. Around Julie, people shifted uncomfortably. “He died for you. For your sins. He died so you may live.”

He paused a moment, then brought his fist crashing down on the pulpit. “Sinners!” he shouted, swinging his gaze to Julie’s, seeming to pin her to the pew.

He lifted a hand and pointed. At her. Directly at her. “Sinner,” he said softly. Then louder, “Sinner!”

Julie had gone hot, then icy, clammy cold. Tears had flooded her eyes and she’d sunk down in the pew. She’d heard the hushed murmur move through the congregation, felt those around her ease away, as if afraid of contamination.

If the others hadn’t known about her before, she remembered realizing, they had then. And she had known, too.

Dirty flesh and foul spirit. Marked by sin.

Julie made a strangled sound of despair, the past retreating, the hopeless present reasserting itself. If only Andie or Raven was with her now. They would talk to her, make her smile and laugh, make her forget. Who and what she was. They would tell her she was okay.

And for a little while, she would even believe it.

For a little while. She pressed her face to the pillow, longing so hard for her friends she ached, even though she knew in her heart that no one could help her, not even God. She knew it was true, because she had prayed and prayed, but still the devil stalked her.

And one day, she feared, he would catch her. And she would be lost forever.




10


Andie sat at the breakfast table, going over what she had decided in the darkest hours of the night, rehearsing what she would say to her mother. She had to tell her what she and her friends had seen the night before. She had to, no matter what she had promised them.

Andie folded her hands in her lap, trying to appear calm even though her heart thundered nearly out of control. She had hardly slept. She had tossed and turned, unable to expunge the image of the blindfolded woman from her head. Or of the man, sitting like a king, the lord of the woman before him.

Daniel then Pete slammed through the kitchen door, one chasing the other with a squirt gun, both of them squealing with laughter.

Andie jumped, nearly startled out of her skin. “Hey!” she called after them, irritated. “You’re not supposed to shoot that thing in the house. And be quiet. Mom’s still sleeping.”

“No, she’s not.” Her mother shuffled into the kitchen, a hand to her head. “Up and at ’em.” She crossed to the coffeepot, took a mug from the cabinet above and filled it with some of yesterday’s cold brew, then set it in the microwave to warm it.

Andie swallowed against the lump that formed in her throat. When her dad had lived here, there had always been fresh coffee. She remembered walking into the kitchen in the morning and its aroma filling her head, welcoming and somehow reassuring.

The microwave dinged and her mom brought the now-steaming and bitter-smelling cup of coffee to the table. Sighing, she sat down.

Andie glanced at her from the corner of her eyes, nervous. She cleared her throat. “Mom? Can I talk to you? It’s kind of important.”

Her mother didn’t look up. “Sure, honey.”

Andie opened her mouth then shut it. Was she doing the right thing? She had made a promise to her friends. She had promised not to go to her mother. She had agreed they would investigate more before any of them blew the whistle on the mystery couple and their activities.

They had agreed.

She chewed on the tip of her thumb, indecisive. But that had been last night. None of them had been thinking clearly. Now she was. And what was going on in that house was wrong.

Andie peeked at her mother again. She seemed to have forgotten her daughter was even there. She stared off into space, her expression so sad it broke Andie’s heart.

“Mom?” she said softly. When her mother didn’t acknowledge her in any way, she tried again, this time louder.

Her mother started. “I’m sorry, honey. What is it?”

“Are you all right?”

Marge Bennett smiled, though to Andie it looked forced. “Fine. It’s just … just that I’m tired. I’m not sleeping much, and …”

Her voice trailed off, and her eyes filled with tears. She drew in a choked breath. “It’s just hard, you know? I thought we, your father and I … I thought forever meant forever. I thought we were … that we were happy. I was. Completely.”

Her mother fell silent for a moment, her gaze turned to the window and the bright day beyond. “I still love him.”

Andie stared at her mother, hurting so bad each breath tore at her chest. Even so, anger at her father coiled inside her, anger and resentment.

How could he have done this to them? How could he have done it to her mom?

As if sensing her daughter’s despair, Marge turned back to her. She covered her hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Don’t apologize, Mom. It’s his fault. He’s the one who—”

“No,” her mother said, cutting her off, “I shouldn’t have said anything to you. Not now or the night he … told us he was leaving. I handled that all wrong. And everything since, too.” She sighed. “I was so hurt, I wanted to hurt him back, just a little. I used you kids, his love for you, to do it.”

“Mom, don’t—”

“No, honey, what I did was wrong and not very mature. Your father loves you and your brothers very much.”

“Then why did he leave us?”

For a moment, she said nothing, then lifted her shoulders in a defeated looking shrug. “I guess he’s not perfect.”

“I’ll never forgive him, Mom.”

“Yes, you will.” She touched her cheek. “You will.”

When Andie opened her mouth to protest, her mother shook her head again. “I know how tough this has been for you, too. And your brothers.” She bent and rested her forehead against Andie’s for a moment. “Thank you, sweetheart. For all the help you’ve been these past weeks. And for being such a good girl for me.”

She squeezed Andie’s fingers, then released them. “Now, you needed to talk to me about something. What is it?”

Andie shrank back in her chair. How could she tell her mother that her “good girl” had been breaking into empty houses and peeking in windows and watching kinky sex? She imagined her mother’s face, her surprise and disappointment, her sigh of defeat. That’s all her mom needed, more to worry about, more disappointment.

No, she couldn’t do that to her. She wouldn’t.

Andie forced a smile. “I just wanted to tell you about the party Sarah Conners is having and ask your opinion about what I should wear. But it can wait.”

“Are you sure? We could go to your closet and—”

“I’m sure.” Andie stood, bent and kissed her cheek. “This is something I have to take care of myself.”




11


Mr. and Mrs. X, as Andie and her friends had begun to call the mystery couple, didn’t show again. After a week, the girls concluded that the couple met only late at night, so they gave up all their day watches and returned to their normal summer routine.

As they went to the mall and the movies or to parties at friends’ houses, Andie could almost believe that it was a normal summer. That everything was as it had always been between her and her best friends.

But nothing was, or had been, normal since the night they had peered at Mr. and Mrs. X through the window. And everything certainly was not as it had always been between the three friends.

Andie glanced from Raven to Julie, then returned her gaze to the tree house floor. The three of them sat at their post, lost in their own thoughts, not speaking. Raven was distracted about anything but their mission. On that she seemed almost frighteningly intent. Julie, on the other hand, was giddy and silly, even more so than usual. In the past days she’d had periods when she couldn’t stop laughing, and there were many times she didn’t seem able to look her friends in the eyes.

Between their two moods, Raven and Julie had been at each other’s throats even more than usual.

Andie herself was nervous and on edge, and spent a good bit of her time with Julie and Raven thinking about Mrs. X and praying that the couple never came back. She had become almost obsessed with them, thinking about them night and day, worrying.

And she spent each day dreading the night. Dreading sneaking out of the house and going to the tree house to wait and watch. She didn’t want to see the couple again. She wanted them to disappear from her life, from all their lives.

If they didn’t, something bad was going to happen.

Andie shivered and rubbed her arms, chilled though the night was warm. She glanced at her friends: Julie who was staring dreamily into space, Raven who had the binoculars trained on the house next door, waiting quietly, like a cat for its prey.

Andie shifted, her butt sore from sitting so long on the hard platform. “Are you guys okay?”

Raven lowered the binoculars. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You’re quiet tonight, that’s all.”

Julie giggled, and Raven scowled at her. Julie immediately shut up.

“Maybe we should go?” Andie offered.

“Go?” Raven repeated. “What do you mean? We haven’t been here that long.”

“Long enough,” Andie said. “They’re not coming.”

“How do you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Well, I think they are.”

“Fine.” Andie frowned at her friend, annoyed. “We’ll wait a little longer.”

“Andie,” Julie whispered, leaning toward her. “I met the coolest guy at the pool today, when I took my brothers swimming.” She lowered her voice a bit more, then giggled again. “I had that icky grandma suit on, the one my dad makes me wear, so I didn’t even take off my cover-up. We sat and talked the whole time my brothers swam.”

Andie glanced at Raven, then back at Julie. “What was his name?”

“Bryce. He was so cute.”

“You didn’t make out with him, did you?” Raven asked, not moving her gaze from the house.

Julie bristled. “Right there, in front of my brothers and everybody else? No, I didn’t make out with him.”

“Never can tell with you.”

Julie’s head snapped up, her expression hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Raven lowered the binoculars and looked at her. “Sometimes I wonder. I mean, sometimes it seems like all you care about are boys and making out.”

“Leave her alone, Raven,” Andie said, furious. “It beats what you care about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This,” she answered. “Ever since that first night, this is all you can think about. You’re obsessed.”

“I am not! I only want to figure out what’s going on. Who these people are and what they’re doing in this house. You just have a weak stomach.”

“I do not have a weak stomach!” Andie couldn’t believe she and Raven were arguing like this. “I have a feeling something really bad is going to happen to us.”

Julie’s eyes widened. “Like what?”

Raven began clucking her tongue at her. At them both. “Chickenshits … chickenshits.”

“Stop it!” Andie shouted, scrambling to her feet and glaring down at Raven. “You’re really starting to piss me off!”

Julie whimpered. “Guys, don’t fight. We’re supposed to be friends.”

Ignoring Julie, Raven launched to her feet and faced Andie. “And I’m getting pretty sick of your pansy-ass whining.”

“Whining!”

“That’s right. We decided that Mr. X was a freak. We decided to pursue this a little longer. We made a deal.”

“Well, we were wrong. We weren’t thinking clearly.”

“Speak for yourself. I was thinking plenty clear.” Raven fisted her fingers. “Just ’cause your parents are splitting up, you think everybody should do what you want. Well, you’re not the only one whose home life is shit, okay? Welcome to the club.”

Andie flinched and took a step backward. “I can’t believe you said that to me. How could you? You know how much—”

Andie bit back the words, her eyes flooding with tears. She started past Raven, intent on grabbing her binoculars and heading home. At the same moment, Julie jumped to her feet. Andie knocked into the other girl, unbalancing her.

As if in slow motion, Andie watched as Julie swung her arms trying to rebalance herself. A cry on her lips, Andie grabbed for her friend; she wasn’t fast enough. Julie went over the side of the platform.

She landed on her side with a sickening thud. She lay there, eyes open but completely still.

“Julie!” Andie cried, her heart in her throat. It didn’t look as if she was breathing. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t reply, and Andie and Raven rushed down the ladder to their friend. They knelt beside her. “Are you all right?” Andie asked again, voice shaking. “Please … please … tell me you’re okay.”

“I … I think I am,” Julie said, beginning to shake. “But I’m afraid to move.”

“Then don’t,” Andie said. “Give yourself a minute to catch your breath.” She met Raven’s eyes. She saw her own concern mirrored in her friend’s gaze.

“I can’t be hurt,” Julie whispered. “If I am, my dad’s going to find out what we’ve been doing. He’ll kill me.” She started to cry then, softly, heartbreaking mewls of despair.

“He won’t find out.” Raven squeezed her hand. “I won’t let him. I promise.”

“Okay,” Andie said. “Let’s see if anything’s broken.”

Carefully, they tested Julie’s arms and legs; they had her move her head, fingers and toes, then helped her sit up. She was fine, they realized. Just shaken.

They all were, Andie decided. Even Raven.

Andie swallowed hard. “I’m really … really sorry, Julie. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I know. It was an accident.” Julie drew in a hiccoughing breath. “No more fighting. You’re supposed to be best friends. Best friends don’t hurt each other like that.”

“Julie’s right, Rave.” Andie looked at her friend, a lump forming in her throat. “Now do you see what’s happening to us? Ever since this started, we’ve changed. We’re at each other’s throats all the time. Either that, or not speaking at all. This thing’s tearing us apart.”

Raven stared at her for long moments, then looked away. “I just wanted to figure this guy out.”

“I know,” Andie said softly, touching her arm. “But it’s hurting us. And I don’t want to lose you two.”

“Please, Rave,” Julie said, her voice quivering. “I want to go back to the way we were before.”

Raven moved her gaze from one to the other, then nodded. “Okay, guys. Starting now, none of this ever happened.”




12


But Raven wasn’t about to forget about Mr. and Mrs. X. No matter what Andie said. Andie was wrong. She and Julie didn’t understand. They didn’t see how important what had happened to them was. They had been given an opportunity, an open door.

To the secrets. The way.

But she saw. She understood.

And that was okay. She was the strong one; she always had been. Andie was a do-gooder with a weak stomach. She worried about everybody, but didn’t have the backbone to take a stand. Julie, on the other hand, was a boy-crazy space cadet and would follow whoever was stronger.

In this case, Julie would follow her.

Raven had decided that she and Julie would continue their late-night stakeout of number twelve Mockingbird Lane. They would watch; Raven would learn. And someday she would need those lessons to protect the three of them, to keep her family together.

Raven didn’t know when or against whom they would need to be protected; she only knew, deep in her gut, that they would.

It would mean lying to Andie. She hated to do it, but it was for Andie’s own good. That made it okay, she reasoned. A necessary evil.

Raven called Julie. And as Raven had known she would, Julie hesitated briefly, then fell right in line with Raven’s plan, promising to keep their activities a secret from Andie.

They agreed to meet that night.




13


After her family had all gone to bed, Julie sneaked out of the house to meet Raven. They had agreed beforehand that they would wait for Mr. and Mrs. X for two hours. Two hours hadn’t seemed that long to Julie then, but now the minutes ticked past with agonizing slowness. She could hardly sit still. It was as if someone had plugged her in and turned her on, and she couldn’t find her Off switch.

Her mind raced; her thoughts whirled. She thought of Andie, Mrs. X, her nightmare, her father. The devil. She was torn between excitement and guilt, shame and arousal. She worked to hide her feelings from Raven, though a couple of times she had caught the other girl looking at her, her expression strange.

Julie swallowed hard. She couldn’t bear it if her friends found out the truth about her. If she kept this up, they would. They would figure it out.

“They’re not going to show,” Julie whispered, then glanced guiltily over her shoulder, as if someone stood nearby, listening. “Let’s just go.”

Raven released a frustrated breath and lowered the binoculars. “It hasn’t been two hours. We agreed, remember?”

“I know, but—”

“Shh. Look, a car.”

Sure enough, a car rolled down the street. It pulled into the driveway of number twelve. The automatic garage door slid up; the car eased in. The door shut.

Julie’s mouth had turned to dust. She fought to speak around the knot in her throat. “Was it him?”

“Her,” Raven corrected, lowering the binoculars, frowning.

“Her? Where’s Mr. X?”

“Late, maybe. Let’s hang a minute, he’ll come.”

They waited. Five minutes. Ten. Raven shook her head. “Something’s wrong. If he was coming, he’d be here.”

“Maybe he was in the car, like hiding in the back seat.”

They looked at each other, then scrambled off the platform. They made their way through the wooded lot and around the back of the house.

They found Mrs. X. She was alone, blindfolded and naked. She stood motionless in the center of the great room, waiting.

Julie gazed at her, confused, then nudged Raven. “What’s she doing?”

Raven didn’t glance over, but lifted her shoulders in response, indicating she didn’t know.

Julie frowned. “This is so weird. I wonder—”

Raven glared at her, bringing a finger to her lips. Julie swallowed the rest of her thought. Minutes passed, and though she didn’t know exactly how many, it seemed like forever.

The night was sticky; their half-crouching positions uncomfortable. A mosquito buzzed in Julie’s ear, and she swatted at it, annoyed. Why was she here, bored and hot and being eaten by bugs, when she could be home, curled up in her comfortable bed? It was stupid. This was stupid. She was taking a big chance just being here. And what for? She opened her mouth to tell Raven exactly that, when her friend caught her arm, stopping her.

“He’s here,” she hissed.

Heart in her throat, Julie popped up and peered over the ledge. Mr. X wore a ski mask. He had a rope. He came up behind Mrs. X; he brought the rope to her throat. Using it, he tugged her roughly against him.

Julie brought a hand to her mouth, shocked and frightened. Aroused. As she watched, he ran the rope over Mrs. X’s body, caressing her with it, making love to her with it. Julie watched as the rope coiled around the woman’s neck, then slithered over her shoulders, her breasts. Then lower.

He used it as another man might use hands and fingers. He brought it between her legs. Mrs. X arched; her mouth opened, though Julie heard no sound.

Julie’s breath came in fast, shallow gasps. Her cheeks were hot, her nipples hard. She closed her eyes, struggling to get control of herself, her runaway thoughts.

When she opened them, Mr. X was binding the woman’s hands with the rope, roughly, yanking her arms behind her back. She didn’t fight him, didn’t struggle or try to break away. Julie didn’t understand. Mrs. X didn’t fight him, yet it looked as if he was scaring her, as if he was hurting her.

Did he own her? Julie wondered. Was she his slave, his property to do with as he wanted? Or was she in love with him, so in love she would give him anything he asked for?

Julie could understand that; she could imagine herself loving, needing to be loved in return, that much.

She was like Mrs. X.

Just like in her nightmare.

Mr. X forced her to her knees. Then, his intentions unmistakable, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection. Tangling his hands in her hair, he forced her to take him into her mouth.

Julie made a small sound, at once shocked and intrigued. Guilt and shame speared through her. She was wet. On fire.

Burning with shame. Guilt. Desire.

She ducked down, breathing hard, unable to watch another moment. Raven didn’t move. Julie covered her face with her hands. They trembled.

She was bad. This was bad. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined her face on Mrs. X’s body, the man’s hands, the rope slithering over her skin.

Andie had been right. They never should have come here. This was wrong. She was going to burn in hell, just as her father said.

“We have to go,” she whispered. “Raven, please.” She reached up and caught her friend’s hand and tugged. “Please, Rave. Please.”

Raven met her eyes, the expression in them strange, almost feverish. She gazed at Julie a moment, almost as if she didn’t know her, then nodded, not speaking again until they reached Julie’s door.

Raven touched Julie’s cheek. “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Julie held her friend’s gaze a moment, then nodded and slipped inside, not at all certain of that fact. In fact, Julie had a horrible feeling that nothing was ever going to be all right again.




14


The next week passed in a disjointed, confusing blur for Julie. Her days were spent pretending to be a good daughter and a normal fifteen-year-old. Her nights were spent peering through the window of number twelve Mockingbird Lane, watching acts that alternately shocked, horrified and aroused her.

Julie lived in fear that her father would discover what she was doing; she struggled to deal with what she saw. One time Mr. X would be tender, even loving with Mrs. X, making love with her in the traditional way. The way Julie had dreamed of being made love to. The next he would be cruel. He would torment her with his indifference, he would make her crawl or beg. Those times, he would take her in whatever way or position he chose, no matter how painful.

He was the devil, Julie decided. She was watching the devil himself.

And he was seducing her.

Julie lay on her bed and stared up at the ceiling, too frightened to close her eyes. She feared if she did, her subconscious would take over and she would be once again transformed into Mrs. X.

She didn’t want to be Mrs. X. She didn’t want to enjoy … that.

But she did enjoy it. It was sick, yet she watched in fascination. She hated it, yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She couldn’t understand why Mrs. X allowed the man to treat her that way, yet she did understand.

Maybe that was what frightened her most.

Julie rolled onto her side, then her back once more. The sheets twisted around her legs, binding them, trapping her. She began to sweat, her heart to pound. She was afraid.

Something terrible was happening to her. Had happened to her. She bit her bottom lip. She wasn’t the same person she had been before the window and Mr. and Mrs. X. Her life wasn’t the same.

She knew things now. She was afraid for her future.

She was afraid she was like Mrs. X.

A cry bubbled up to her throat. She wanted to go back. She didn’t want to know what she knew. She didn’t want him to be in her brain anymore. She pressed her face to the pillow. She wanted to make it all go away.

And she was afraid, too, for Mrs. X. Tonight, Mr. X had been brutal. He had all but raped Mrs. X, then left her bound, gagged and blindfolded. Alone in the dark.

He had gone to the garage and his car, and he’d driven off.

She and Raven had waited thirty minutes; he hadn’t returned. Julie had suggested they go inside and free Mrs. X; Raven had scoffed. It was all part of their game, she had said. Julie worried too much.

Did she worry too much? Julie wondered. Or was Mrs. X still there? Now, hours later? Had he left her to die alone in that house, bound and blinded by the silk scarf? Had he left her that way and gone to get a weapon to kill her?

The dark, her fears, pressed in on her. Julie reached across to the bedside table and switched on her light, squinting against the sudden brightness. Next to the light, in a pretty flowered frame, was a picture of her, Andie and Raven. Julie reached for her glasses and slipped them on, then took the framed photo into her hands and gazed at it. The picture had been snapped last summer, when Andie’s folks had taken them all camping. They had their arms around each other, they were smiling.

Now, she could hardly look Andie in the eyes. Now, she and Raven hardly spoke. It was as if there was a glass wall separating the three of them; they could see one another but not touch, not connect. They didn’t laugh together, they didn’t whisper together, sharing their deepest, darkest secrets.

Now, they kept those secrets all to themselves.

It was tearing them apart. Tearing her apart. But as much as she longed to, Julie didn’t know how to stop it.




15


Andie couldn’t put Mr. and Mrs. X out of her mind, no matter how she tried. She threw herself into her friends and summer activities, but still the image of the woman on her knees before the man haunted her.

If only she understood what drove the couple, if only she could fathom why the woman allowed herself to be treated that way. If she understood, she decided, she would be able to let it go and move on.

If she didn’t, she feared she would go crazy.

She remembered that Julie had said she’d read something in a psychology book about this; sexual deviation, she had called it. Andie decided a trip to the Thistledown Public Library would do the trick.

Andie found a limited amount of information there. It was frustrating, because she needed to ask the librarian for help but couldn’t. Thistledown was a small town; the librarian knew her. But more important, she knew her mom and dad.

No sooner would the question be out of her mouth than the librarian would be on the phone to Andie’s mom.

Andie didn’t consider that an option, so, knowing that her mother wouldn’t miss her, she made the two-hour bus trek to Columbia and the University of Missouri. In the sprawling, book-filled building that housed the library she found more information than she would have time to read before she had to catch the bus back home. The librarian didn’t even blink at Andie’s request and directed her to the psychology section. She explained how to use the microfiche and how to find the bound periodicals.

Sexual deviation, Andie learned, was a behavior that varied from what a society or people called “normal.” She learned that some people enjoyed being dominated during sex, others punishing or being punished. She learned that they found the pain, the humiliation and powerlessness exciting. Some could achieve sexual gratification in no other way.

The experts rarely agreed on why these people found dominance, submission or pain pleasurable—their theories ranged from traumatic childhood experiences to environmental influences to genetics. They did agree, however, that sexual deviance had been a part of every culture, back as far as there were records to study.

No closer to understanding, but slightly reassured by the sheer volume of information, Andie checked her watch. She had time for one more article before she left. Her head already swimming with what she’d learned, she thought about passing on the article and going for a Coke instead, then took a deep breath. She had come all this way, she might as well get as much information as she could.

She would just skim it, she decided, looking longingly at the front doors, then back at the scientific journal. Then she still might have time for that Coke.

She flipped open the journal and began to read quickly. A sentence jumped out at her. She stopped, her world tipping on its axis.

Sometimes, death provides the ultimate sexual thrill.

She struggled to calm herself, to catch hold of the fear racing through her. With forced calm, Andie went back and carefully read the entire article. It went on to explain that such instances were rare, though quite a number had been documented. One man had actually killed four partners over the course of three years, before he was caught. During his pretrial psychiatric evaluation, he had insisted that his partners had been willing victims, that they had helped plan the tableau that had been their last and that they had received as much pleasure in the act as he. A half-dozen or so graphic photographs were included.

Andie gazed at the images, stomach lurching up to her throat. She had been right to be afraid for Mrs. X, she knew now. The woman was in real danger.

A sense of urgency pressing at her, Andie snatched up the journal, and went in search of a copier. She found one, dug in her pocket for change, then began photocopying the article, pictures and all. She had to make Raven and Julie understand; had to get them to see the danger Mrs. X was in. She had to make them as certain as she of what they had to do.

They had to go to their parents. They had to.




16


The minute Andie got home, she called her friends. She told them to meet her at the toolshed, a.s.a.p. It was an emergency, she told them. They had to talk; they couldn’t chance being overheard.

Within twenty minutes the three of them were sitting cross-legged on the shed floor. Julie looked guilty and nervous, Raven curious. Seeing them now, Andie realized she had hardly spoken to them in two days.

Without waiting for their questions, Andie launched into the reason she had called them together. She told them how she had gone by bus to Columbia and the university library, describing in detail what she had discovered there, finishing with the last, most devastating piece of information.

“Look.” She took the article from her back pocket, unfolded it and handed it to her friends, hands shaking. “Our imaginations weren’t running away with us. We were right to be afraid. This guy’s bad news.”

Julie stared at the photocopy, her eyes huge behind her glasses. “Do you think he … he’s … going to kill her?”

Andie swallowed hard. “I think he might.”

“Oh, God.” Julie wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees and looked pleadingly at Raven. The other girl sent her a warning glance, and Julie moaned and pressed her face to her knees.

Andie watched them, frowning. “What’s going on, you guys?”

“Nothing,” Raven said smoothly. She handed the article back. “This doesn’t prove anything.”

“Of course it does. It proves he could hurt her. It proves we can’t just sit back and do nothing. We have to go to our—”

“Parents?” Raven supplied. “I don’t think so.” When Andie opened her mouth to argue her point, Raven cut her off. “She likes what they’re doing, and if she’s not afraid for herself, why should we risk our butts for her?”

“But the article said—”

“That sometimes the dominator can’t stop and kills his partner. I know.” Raven tossed aside the pages. “But it doesn’t say how often, Andie. It could be one time in a million.”

“And what if this is that time?”

Julie lifted her head, her expression stricken. “Raven … we have to.”

Raven ignored her. “This is Thistledown, Andie. Not New York. Not even St. Louis. Stuff like that doesn’t happen here. Besides, can you imagine what Julie’s dad would do if he found out? Can you imagine what mine would do?”

Julie began to whimper, and Andie cut her a worried glance. “I’ll keep you guys out of it. I’ll tell my mom it was only me.”

“Do you really think she’ll believe that? The three of us spend almost every minute together, we have, almost all summer. Do you really think she won’t know the truth.”

Andie pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. She and her friends had never disagreed this way before. It made her feel funny, almost as if she were on trial and they were judging her. Why couldn’t they see this the way she did?

Andie scrambled around for another solution. “How about this? Instead of our parents, we go to the police. We make them promise not to tell our folks. We tell them—”

“It’ll never work,” Raven inserted, flushing. “We’re minors, Andie. Get it? Minors. The first thing they’d do is call our folks. It’s like a rule. And then we’re dead. Grounded. Separated from each other, probably. Shipped off to some private school. And for what? Your imagination? To help a woman we don’t know, a woman involved in a kinky love affair? I don’t think so.”

“You can’t tell! Please, Andie.” Julie began to cry. She bent and pressed her face to her folded knees and rocked, her sobs high and scary-sounding.

Sending Andie a furious glance, Raven went to Julie and put her arms around her. “You’ve got to drop this, Andie. You’re flipping out, or something. I know it’s been a tough summer for you with your parents splitting up and all, but don’t screw up our lives … our friendship because of it.”

Tears flooded Andie eyes. “But what about … what if something happens to her?”

“Instead of worrying so damn much about this Mrs. X, why don’t you try worrying about us? We’re the ones you’re supposed to care about.”

Julie lifted her head then, her face blotchy from crying. “Rave, what if she’s right? What if he’s killed her?”

“Shut up,” Raven hissed. “You promised.”

“We have to tell her. We have to.”

Andie’s blood ran cold. “Tell me what?”

“I’m sorry, Rave,” Julie whispered. “But she could be dead.” Her voice rose. “What are we going to do if she’s dead?”

“She’s not, but if you have to, fine. Tell her. I’m not stopping you, am I?” Raven stood and walked to the doorway, now just a big, rectangular hole in the wall. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at them.

Julie looked at Andie, then slid her gaze guiltily away, her chin trembling. “Raven and I went back to the house and spied on Mr. and Mrs. X.”

“What?” Andie moved her gaze between her two friends, not believing what she was hearing, but knowing it was true. “You went back … after we’d agreed that we wouldn’t?”

“Raven explained it to me,” Julie said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “We had to figure out what they were up to, and we didn’t want to upset you.”

“I see.” Her best friends had lied to her. She looked at Raven. The other girl met her gaze almost defiantly. That hurt, maybe most of all. “How many times, Julie?”

“A bunch,” she whispered, hanging her head. “I’m sorry, Andie. I didn’t mean to.”

How did one not “mean” to lie? Tears burned Andie’s eyes, she blinked furiously against them. “So, why are you telling me now? Why not keep lying?”

Her sarcasm was lost on Julie. She brought her hands to her throat. “Because I’m afraid he’s … killed her.”

Julie went back, describing in detail the acts she and Raven had witnessed, she told Andie about the rope, about Mr. X’s alternating tenderness and brutality. She finished by telling Andie how he had left Mrs. X alone, bound and blindfolded two nights ago.

When she finished, she curved her arms around her middle. “It was so awful. I’ve hardly been able to sleep since. I keep thinking that Mrs. X … that she might be … that he might have killed her. And now … that article …”

Her words trailed off. They, their meaning, landed heavily between them anyway. Andie paled. “Have you been back since? To, you know, make sure he … didn’t?”

“No.” Julie flushed. “I just couldn’t. Not alone.”

“Rave?” Andie turned to the other girl. “How about you?”

She shook her head. “Get a grip, guys. He hasn’t hurt her. She likes what he does to her. It’s a big, sick game.”

“But what if—” Julie struggled to find her voice. “What if she’s … her body would be … I’ve never seen a … a dead body before.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “I swear, you guys are losin’ it.”

“How do you know?” Andie demanded, facing the other girl, suddenly, incredibly angry. “How come you’re always right? How come we always have to do what you want to do?” She lowered her voice, hurt. “I thought we were best friends. I thought we were family. And I thought that meant something.”

“We are. It does. I—” Raven’s throat seemed to close over the words and her eyes flooded with tears.

“Best friends don’t lie to each other. They don’t hurt each other that way.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, bowing her head. As she did, sun caught on the gold barrette that held the hair away from her face. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know … how I could have done that to you. You were right, I’ve been obsessed with them. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course I can. I love you, Rave. Just don’t ever do that to me again. It really hurt.”

Raven promised she wouldn’t, and so did Julie. The three hugged. When they broke apart, they exchanged apprehensive glances, knowing the time for a decision had come. Andie spoke first. “We have to check the house out. We have to make sure Mrs. X is okay. Period.”

“When?”

“We need to go early, while it’s still light. Besides, we don’t want to take the chance of running into him.” Andie glanced at her watch. “How about now?”

“No way.” Julie checked her watch. “My dad’s due home in a few minutes. I have an hour of prayers and Scriptures, then dinner and dishes.”

“Rave?”

“You know my old man, dinner’s a command performance. Seven-thirty’s the best I could do.”

“Me, too,” Julie said.

Andie nodded. “Seven-thirty, it is. The tree house.”




17


Andie watched the clock, her feeling of dread increasing with each tick of the second hand. She fought the feeling off, calling herself chickenshit, worrywart. At seven-thirty it would still be light outside, too early for Mr. and Mrs. X to make an appearance. The three of them would go into the house, make sure there were no dead bodies anywhere, then take off. They would be there ten minutes, tops.

And then it would be over, behind them. She could do this, Andie told herself. It was no big deal.

Then why were her hands shaking? Why did she feel light-headed and winded, as if she had just run around the school gymnasium a half-dozen times?

Because she was scared. That they would be caught. That the couple would be there, and she would see them engaged in … what they did. And worst of all, that Julie would be right and they would find Mrs. X, dead. She didn’t know if she could handle that. She didn’t know if she would be able to live with that on her conscience.

Andie glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink, and her heart leaped to her throat.

Time had run out. Time to go.

She wiped her hands on the seat of her denim cutoffs and forced a deep breath into her lungs. Leaving the kitchen, she went to the family-room doorway. Her mother sat with Danny and Pete, watching some sports show on TV. One her dad used to watch with them.

“Mom?” Her mother looked over her shoulder. “The dishes are done. I’m going to go hang out with Julie and Raven for a while.”

Her mother smiled wanly. “Okay, honey. Have fun.”

Fun, Andie thought a moment later as she cut through her backyard, heading for Julie’s street. Her stomach rolled. Tonight was about anything but fun.

Raven was already there and waiting. Julie arrived only minutes after Andie. The three drew in what seemed a collective breath. Andie took charge. “We check the place, then we’re out of there. Right?”

The other two agreed, and they made their way to the house, circling around back. They went to the door; Raven retrieved the key from its hiding pace, unlocked and opened the door.

Before she could take a step inside, Andie caught her arm. “We’re in and out,” she said. “No messing around.”

“No messing around,” Raven repeated and stepped inside.

Andie, then Julie, crept in behind her. The first thing Andie noticed was the smell—stale, slightly sour. She wrinkled her nose. “What is that?”

“Oh, God …” Julie brought a hand to her stomach. “I bet it’s the … I bet it’s her!”

Raven shook her head and moved her gaze over the family room and adjoining kitchen. “No body here. No body parts, no blood.” At her friends’ horrified expressions, she laughed. “You two are the ones who started this gruesome quest. I’m only along to tell you I told you so after.”

Together they moved from room to room, checking corners and closets. Nothing appeared different than the first time they had been through.

Until they got to the master bedroom. It had a vaulted ceiling with exposed beams. Thrown over one was a rope.

The end of the rope was tied into a noose.

On the floor below sat two stools, a tall one directly under the noose, a short one beside it, the kind one keeps in a kitchen, to help with high cabinets.

For long moments, the girls said nothing, just stared.

“What the hell is that?” Andie asked. “I mean, what’s it for?”

The three looked at each other, eyes wide. “I don’t like this,” Andie said, taking a step backward, gooseflesh racing up her arms. “I want to get out of here.”

“Me, too.”

“Rave—”

Her friend was staring up at the beam and the rope. Something in her expression gave Andie the creeps. She realized that Raven hadn’t said a word since coming into this room. “Rave?” she said again, touching her friend’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Raven jumped, startled. “What?”

“This is creepy. Julie and I want to split.”

Raven didn’t argue. They started back the way they had come. Almost to the back door, they froze when they heard the unmistakable sound of the garage door rumbling shut.

Andie thought she was going to faint. The house’s interior was now almost completely in shadow, and she looked wildly around her. Not again, she thought, hysteria exploding inside her. She was not going to be trapped in here again. She grabbed Julie’s hand and bolted for the door. She wrenched it open and stumbled out, Julie behind her, almost crying out with relief.

From the house she heard the sound of another door opening, then a man’s voice. Followed by a woman’s. Andie pulled the door shut and ran for the cover of the adjoining wooded lot.

She reached it and ducked behind a tree, breathing hard. It was then she saw Raven wasn’t with them. Her heart flew to her throat, and she looked frantically around them. “Where’s Rave?” she asked, sounding as panicked as she felt.

Julie met her eyes, hers wide with horror. They simultaneously realized the same thing.

Raven hadn’t made it out. She was in that house with Mr. and Mrs. X.




18


Inside the house, Raven eased closer to the crack between the door and the jamb, heart pounding. When she had heard the rumble of the garage door opening, when she had realized it was them, she had turned and run back here, to the bedroom, to the closet.

She drew in a deep, quiet breath, afraid and excited, trembling with anticipation. From her hiding place she could see only a sliver of the room beyond. But she saw the rope. The stools.

Mr. and Mrs. X.

They held each other, whispering things Raven couldn’t make out. Mrs. X seemed agitated. Even frightened. Was she frightened of him? Raven wondered. The rope? Or of something else. Someone else?

“Take off your clothes,” he said quietly.

Mrs. X shook her head, clinging to him. “I don’t want to.” Her voice quivered slightly, then broke. “Don’t make me.”

“Take off your clothes,” he said again, this time sharply, setting her away from him. “I don’t want to punish you, but I will.”

Whimpering, she did as he asked, removing one garment after another, her movements halting. She peeled away the last and stood before him, naked and trembling, head bowed.

“The ring,” he said. “Remove it.”

Raven pressed closer to the sliver of space, upper lip wet with perspiration. She saw Mrs. X struggling to get a ring off her finger. Her fourth finger. A wedding ring, Raven realized. Mrs. X was married. To somebody else.

“You belong to me,” Mr. X said, taking a step closer. “Don’t you?”

The woman lifted her face to his. Raven saw that she was crying. “Yes,” she whispered.

He reached out and curved his hand around her breast, but not gently, roughly, as if asserting his possession. “You’re mine.”

“Yes,” she said again.

“And I can do anything I want to you?”

She nodded.

He caught her other breast. “Say it.”

“Yes. You can do anything you want to me.”

“Even kill you.”

The words landed flatly, harshly, between them. They reverberated in Raven’s head. Her mouth went dry. She flexed her fingers, her heart pounding heavily.

Suddenly, her father’s voice popped into her head, clear, accusing. Cheating whore. Disloyal bitch. I’ll kill you before I’ll let you leave.

Raven shook her head, trying to clear it, trying to force her father, the memory, out. Sweat dripped into her eyes. It stung, and she rubbed at them, rubbed until they burned. When she dropped her hands, she was at another door, her bedroom door. She was twelve again, peering through a different sliver of space.

She heard her father. And her mother.

Their last fight.

They had been going at it, on and off, all night. It had finally escalated to the point of no return, and Raven had known from hundreds of times before exactly where it would lead. She had tiptoed out of bed and to her bedroom door to listen.

“I’m going to ask you again,” her father had shouted, “where were you today?” Raven had rolled her eyes and mouthed her father’s next words, knowing them by heart. “I called and you didn’t answer the phone.”




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