Shocking Pink (7 page)

“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.”

T
he 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?”