Shocking Pink (18 page)

I
n the week that had passed since Martha Pierpont’s last session and her breakthrough, Andie had wondered repeatedly about the woman. She had worried about how she was doing and whether her anger had resurfaced or remained suppressed. Andie had been anxious to see her again to determine how the woman had weathered the emergence of her true feelings.

“How was your week?” Andie asked Martha after they both sat down.

“Fine,” the woman answered, shifting in her seat. “Good. Why do you ask?”

Andie smiled. “Well, besides the fact that hearing about your week is what I do, something pretty significant happened during your last session, and I thought it might have affected your mood.”

“Significant?” Martha looked at her blankly. “I don’t understand.”

Full armor, solidly in place.
“Your outburst, Martha. You were quite upset.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Bennett. I still don’t know what you mean.”

Andie frowned. Martha looked completely blank. Was this a form of denial? Of avoidance? Or did she really not remember what had happened?

“You said you wanted to kill your husband. When he abused you.”

For a full ten seconds, Martha stared at her. Then she shook her head. “I did not.”

“But you did, Martha. Three times. You almost shouted it. You sobbed after.”

“You’re mistaken. I would never say that.
Never.
Edward is my husband. Killing’s wrong.”

“Expressing rage,” Andie said gently, “expressing hurt, anger or disappointment is not the same as acting on it. It’s all right to be angry, Martha.”

“Of course it is.” The woman looked away. For several moments, she was silent, then she looked back at Andie. “Edward got a gun.”

“A gun.” Andie made a sound of surprise and dismay. “Oh, Martha, is that a good idea?”

“He was afraid…” She clasped her hands in her lap. “He got another letter. Whoever sent it said that…that he was going to kill Ed. Slit his throat while he slept.”

Andie instinctively brought a hand to her own throat. “So, he got a gun.”

“Yes. He keeps it in the nightstand by the bed. Loaded, Dr. Bennett.”

Gooseflesh ran up Andie’s arms. “I don’t like this, Martha. Statistics show that more people are killed or wounded by their own guns than the people they’re trying to protect themselves from.”

“That’s what the police said.” She looked at her hands, then back up at Andie. “I tried to talk him out of it. I begged him to hire a bodyguard instead, but he…he said it wouldn’t look good. He said it would make him look like a coward.”

The coward he was, Andie thought.

“I’m afraid for Patti. What if he—” Martha bit back the words, stood and crossed to the window.

“If he what, Martha?”

“Nothing. It’s just dangerous to have a loaded gun in the house. She’s a teenager, you know. With teenagers, accidents happen.”

Martha began to roam the office, touching this and that, obviously lost in her own thoughts. As Andie watched her, she became aware of a certain lightening of her patient’s mood to a kind of repressed excitement that seemed to emanate from her.

“Martha?” she queried. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

The woman stopped and met her eyes. “Are you coming to the benefit Friday night?”

She referred, Andie knew, to the benefit for the Edward Pierpont Women’s Shelter. “Of course. I’m bringing my friends Raven Johnson and Julie Cooper.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it? Ironic, I mean.”

“What’s that?” Andie asked, though she thought she knew.

“That Edward sponsored this project. That he went to the mat for it with the council. A halfway house for abused women?” A smile tugged at her mouth. “What do you think he would do if I was the first woman who checked in? Wouldn’t that be just too sweet?”

“You could be,” Andie said softly.

“He’d kill me.”

The way she said the words, so matter-of-factly, made Andie’s blood run cold. She couldn’t help thinking of Raven’s mother. She shook the sensation, and the memory, off. “That’s what he wants you to think, Martha. He wants you afraid, he wants you to feel powerless. He knows if you’re afraid and feel helpless, you’ll stay.”

“You don’t know Edward the way I do. He means it, Dr. Bennett. I know he does.” She began to shake. “I tried once, a long time ago, and he…he almost did.”

“You could get protection.”

“He’s the mayor.”

“He’s still bound by the law.”

She shook her head again, becoming visibly upset. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Andie tried again, anyway, afraid for her patient—living with a violent man, one who now slept with a loaded gun. “What about Patti? Aren’t you afraid that one day he’ll turn his anger and abuse on her? Statistics show—”

“No!” Martha cut her off, voice high and tight. She clenched her hands into fists. “She’s his daughter. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t!”

Andie could have pointed out that Martha was his wife and that fact didn’t stop him from hurting her, but she didn’t. The woman had to come to her own realizations, in her own time.

Andie just hoped she came to them before something terrible happened. Something irreversible.

F
riday night arrived. Andie had to admit to a fair amount of girlish excitement—it had been ages since she had gone to a black-tie affair, and far longer than that since she had gone to one with Raven and Julie. She figured the last one was their freshman homecoming dance.

Andie laughed to herself. Boy, did that make her feel ancient.

She checked her watch and saw that she had better get moving. Raven had insisted on hiring a limousine for the three of them, and her friends should be arriving any minute. She slipped into her dress, a black-and-white number with stiff, shimmery fabric and a short skirt, fastened it, then slid into her pumps. She was clipping on her earrings when the bell rang.

Raven and Julie were on the doorstep, Julie in a flouncy, deep purple dress, Raven in stunning, unrelieved black. “Hi,” Andie said, smiling. “You guys look gorgeous.”

“So do you,” they responded in unison, then burst out laughing.

“This is such a blast from the past,” Julie said. “I feel like a kid again, going to the Spring Fling.”

“I forgot about that one,” Andie murmured. “All we need now are three pimply-faced boys.”

“And those funky corsages.”

Julie laughed. “Remember, my dad let me go but only with my cousin?”

“And you weren’t allowed to dance.”

They all laughed. Andie locked the door, and the three hurried out to the limo. Raven had a bottle of champagne on ice. She popped it and poured them a glass.

“Together again.”

They tapped glasses and sipped. The wine was fine and dry, a California brut; the bubbles tickled Andie’s nose and went straight to her head. She murmured her appreciation. “When we were fifteen, we didn’t have stuff like this.”

“Spiked punch at the dance. That’s about it.” Raven wrinkled her nose. “Remember how that tasted?”

That memory led to another and another. In what seemed the blink of an eye, they had arrived downtown and the driver was opening the car door for them. The Bakers, one of Thistledown’s oldest and wealthiest families, had opened their grand old family home, a turn-of-the-century revival structure, for the benefit. Everybody who was anybody in Thistledown had purchased a ticket. A town this size could support only a small number of these types of affairs, and when one came along, those who could afford to attend, did.

Andie made her way through the crowd, nursing a glass of champagne, pausing to talk to the president of the chamber of commerce, her internist, the high-school principal. She caught sight of Martha. She looked fabulous. Effervescent and smiling, the mayor’s wife made the rounds, touching this one on the hand or arm, making small talk, laughing. The consummate politician’s wife, Andie thought. An asset worth more than gold.

Andie studied her. She had always thought Martha an attractive woman, but she hadn’t realized before that she was beautiful. She usually dressed conservatively, in dark or muted colors, because Edward preferred it. Not tonight. Tonight she wore a vivid red dress, in a bold, off-the-shoulder style. It certainly wasn’t the black silk Martha had mentioned.

Andie shook her head slightly. A beautiful woman. A good person. Smart. Charming. Why had she allowed herself to be trapped in an abusive marriage? Andie asked herself the question even though clinically, as a psychologist, she understood how it had happened. But personally, with her heart, she didn’t.

Martha deserved so much more.

Every woman did.

From the dais, set up in the front parlor, Janice Petrie, president of the city council, tapped the microphone, cleared her throat and welcomed everyone to the benefit. Andie wandered that way. As she did, she caught sight of Julie, flirting outrageously with the owner of the local department store. Then she saw Raven ease between the two and gently but firmly steer her from him.

Andie shook her head. Some things never changed.

Edward Pierpont began to speak. “This shelter is an idea whose time has come. It first occurred to me while reading the tragic story of Tammy Reed, a Thistledown resident, the mother of three, stalked, then murdered by her estranged husband. She had nowhere to turn. No one to turn to. Things like that must not happen in Thistledown, not ever again.”

Applause and murmurs of support rippled through the audience. Edward waited for it to die down, then continued. “The Edward Pierpont Women’s Shelter will provide a safe house for women like Tammy Reed, women caught in destructive, abusive relationships, women who are afraid for themselves and their children, women who have nowhere else to go.”

Women like your wife, Andie thought, watching him, his hypocrisy turning her stomach. She shifted her gaze to Martha, standing beside him on the dais, face turned toward him, the picture of the devoted and dutiful wife.

Looking at them together—the solicitous way he treated her, his possessive glances, the way he looped his arm around her—no one would ever suspect the true nature of their relationship.

They appeared the perfect, loving couple; he the perfect, loving husband.

Sometimes, things weren’t what they seemed. Not at all.

Raven came up beside her. “I take it you didn’t vote for him,” she murmured, close to her ear.

Andie turned slightly to her friend. “How did you guess?”

“Something about you looking like you want to puke.”

“That obvious, huh?”

Raven leaned toward her again. “Julie’s on her way to having drunk too much. You know Julie, once that happens there’s no stopping her. You want to blow this scene?”

“You got it.” Andie lowered her voice more. “If I have to listen to
him
much longer, I will puke.”

They collected Julie and went out to where the limo waited. “What now?” Andie asked as they settled in, checking her watch. “It’s still pretty early.”

“I have an idea,” Raven said. A devilish smile tugged at her mouth. “Are you guys game?”

Andie and Julie exchanged glances. “This could be dangerous.”

“Illegal.”

“Or immoral.”

Raven laughed and leaned toward them. “Remember the shed in farmer Trent’s field? Remember that night we went out there, climbed onto the roof and looked up at the stars?”

“I haven’t thought about the shed in years,” Julie murmured.

“Me neither,” said Andie. “God, I loved that place.”

“Let’s go there now.”

Andie shook her head. “Big problem, Rave. Farmer Trent’s field is Happy Hollow, Phase III.”

“No problem at all.” Raven leaned forward and gave the driver directions. Within ten minutes they were winding their way through the streets of Phase III.

“Pull over here,” she announced suddenly. The driver did and she opened the sunroof, stood and stuck her head through. “I think this is it.”

Andie and Julie followed her up. “I think you’re right.” Andie pointed. “That’s should be Mockingbird Lane, over there.”

“Come on, let’s climb onto the roof.”

“Raven, you’ve got to be kidding.”

She looked at the driver. “When we’re all through, close the moon roof, okay? And no fair looking up our skirts while we’re climbing out.”

The driver laughed and promised he wouldn’t, and Raven kicked off her shoes and shimmied through the roof. “Hand up the champagne.”

“This is nuts.” Andie handed up the bottle, then their glasses.

Julie giggled. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Laughing, they followed Raven onto the roof of the limo. When the opening had eased shut, they all lay back and gazed at the stars.

“Just like the old days,” Andie murmured. “All’s right with the world.”

Julie propped herself on an elbow. “That night we did this, that was the night we heard the music for the first time.”

“The night my parents split up.”

“The night I got stitches in my leg.” Raven made a sound of contentment. “Remember our wishes that night? In a way, they came true.”

“We’re still friends,” Andie said.

“I never doubted we would be,” Raven added.

Andie drew a deep breath, letting the mild night air fill her lungs. “I remember how…devastated I was about my folks. I thought the world was ending.”

“But it went on.”

“Yeah.” She looked at Julie. “Did I tell you my mom’s dating this really great guy? Not only is he handsome and well off, but he’s wild about her. He’s been spoiling her rotten.”

“It’s about time, I say.” Julie smiled. “Your dad’s still with Leeza, isn’t he? After all these years?”

Raven made a face. “I still think she’s a home-wrecking slut-bitch.” The other two burst out laughing, and she sniffed. “Well, I do.”

“Okay.” Andie turned to her friend, beside her on her right. “Did you put that snake in her car? Tell the truth. It always seemed just a bit too much of a coincidence.”

Raven widened her eyes as with extreme innocence. “Me?”

“Yes
you.
Come on, inquiring minds want to know.”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yup, I did. I saw this little green snake in our garden, so I scooped it up into a coffee can, went down to your dad’s office and set it free in her car.” She met Andie’s eyes. “I did it for you, Andie. And your mom.”

The girls stopped laughing. A sensation walked up Andie’s spine, like ice-cold fingers.

At her friends’ uncomfortable silence, Raven stiffened, defensive. “I thought she would be scared, squeal, maybe wet her pants. I didn’t know she’d get in a wreck. How could I? Besides, no real harm was done.”

“Her squealing and wetting her pants.” Julie giggled. “It’s a picture.”

“She has tried to be nice to me and Dan and Pete,” Andie said reflectively. “Sometimes, I get the feeling she really wants to be a part of our lives, you know. Like she wants us to share things with her, like she wants us to love her. I just can’t. I don’t bear her any ill will, but—”

Raven made a sound like a buzzer going off. “Wrong. Time for an honesty alert, Dr. Bennett.”

“Okay—” Andie laughed and held out her index finger and thumb, about a quarter of an inch apart. “Maybe just a little ill will. But sometimes I feel sorry for her, too. Like maybe she knows she made a mistake, and her life hasn’t turned out to be quite what she wanted.”

Andie was silent a moment. “They never had kids together. She confided to me once that Dad told her he’d already done that, that he had his family and didn’t want another.”

“Wow, that’s cold.” Julie sat up. “Poor Leeza.”

Raven snorted and refilled all their champagne glasses. “Poor Leeza, my ass. She made her choices.”

“I suppose.” Julie sighed. “I guess I’m sympathetic because I’ve made so many bad choices myself.” She grinned. “Chester, Frank and Rick, for starters. My ex-husbands, the three stooges.”

Her smile faded. “Seriously, if we’d been doing this a month ago, when Rick and I…I don’t think I could have handled it. I would have looked at you two and felt like such a failure. But now…I feel hopeful.” She looked from one friend to the other, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m glad I’m part of your lives, guys. I’m glad to be back. I’m going to make it, I am.”

“Oh, Julie.” Andie hugged her. “I love you. And I’m glad you’re back, too.”

“A toast.” Laughing, sounding almost giddy, Raven held out her champagne flute. “To us.”

“To us,” Andie and Julie chorused, tapping their glasses against Raven’s. “To the future.”