Kitabı oxu: «Shocking Pink»

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

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.