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Authors: Erica Spindler

Tags: #Fiction, #Psychological, #Thrillers

Shocking Pink (12 page)

BOOK: Shocking Pink
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What was he doing?
Raven drew her eyebrows together, watching him. Then she realized.
He was digging a hole.

To bury her mother.

Raven dropped to the floor again, unable to breathe. She brought her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth. As she did, thoughts and feelings raced through her head, twisting and turning, colliding with one another. She struggled to focus, struggled to make sense of what her father had done.

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting for an even breath. How many times had her father told her mother he was going to “fix her” for her lack of loyalty? How many times had he told her he was going to “make her pay” for her betrayal or that he would “stop her” if she ever tried to leave him?

Too many to count, Raven realized. Their every fight had included one of his warnings. And tonight, hadn’t he warned her first? Hadn’t he said he would kill her if she tried to leave?

Raven brought her hands to her ears, covering them, trying to quiet the voices in her head. Her mother hadn’t listened. Despite his warnings, she had tried to run away. From him. From her daughter. Her mother had betrayed them, their family. She hadn’t been loyal. She had proved that—had proved true all her husband had ever accused her of—by trying to leave them.

So, her father had taken care of her. Like he’d promised her he would.

A strangled giggle had slipped past Raven’s lips. The small sound had seemed to echo in the silent house. She had clapped a hand over her mouth, imagining her father stopping his work and lifting his gaze to the house’s second story, to this window.

Suddenly, Raven had been afraid. If the police found out she had known, her dad would be sent to jail. And she would be sent away—someplace far from Andie and Julie. They were her family. She couldn’t live without them.

Andie. Julie.

Mr. and Mrs. X.

Raven jerked back to the present. She was pressed into the far corner of the bedroom closet, her breath coming in small shallow gasps, her cheeks wet with tears. She swiped at them, the dark closed in around her, the smell of paint and builder’s dust near choking her.

The room beyond was quiet. Deathly quiet. Raven leaned forward and peered out. Mr. and Mrs. X were gone. She blinked, confused, a kind of cold, damp panic setting over her. When had they gone? How much time had passed?

She shuddered and rubbed her arms, cold yet flushed and sweating. Tonight had been a revelation. She was beginning to see now, to understand power. What it meant to have it. What it meant to hold the fate of another human being in the palms of your hands.

She held her father’s fate in her hands. She hadn’t told anyone what he had done. Not even the police when they had questioned her about her mother’s disappearance. Instead, she had held her secret to her, waiting for the time when she could reveal it—reveal him—to the world.

Her secret gave her power. The kind of power Mr. X had, she realized. Over life. And death.

Raven rubbed her eyes, suddenly tired. Drained of the adrenaline and exuberance that had raced through her only minutes ago. A tiny fist of pain settled in her temple. Andie and Julie should be with her. She missed them; they were three, a family.

Her family was falling apart.

The fist of pain grew larger, more fierce. Family didn’t keep secrets, they didn’t hide things from one another. They didn’t argue. But that’s exactly what they had been doing. Ever since Mr. and Mrs. X had come into their lives.

Mr. and Mrs. X had come between them.

Raven brought her fingers to her temple. She had to do something; she couldn’t live without her friends, her family. She had to take care of them.

But she couldn’t go back to the way it had been before, the way her life had been. She had changed. She understood things now that she’d only had glimpses of before. Things her father understood, though she hated him for them. Perhaps that, too, was part of the circle. Hatred and love, like pleasure and pain, hand in hand.

Andie and Julie could grow with her. She would lead and they would follow. Every family had a leader. Someone in whom they could place their trust, their confidence.

She was the fearless one. The clever one. The one who could observe, could look at people and situations with detachment. Without hurt or sympathy or remorse getting in the way, muddying reason.

If only Julie and Andie could be as she was. If only they understood how good it was, what an easy way to live.

But they couldn’t. They weren’t strong like her. She was the one who would risk anything for those she loved. The one the other two turned to for advice, for solutions, security.

She was the one who understood love and loyalty.

She would take care of her family. No matter the cost.

She would start now. By convincing Andie and Julie that Andie had been right—and wrong. Wrong about Mrs. X being in danger, but right about their needing to forget this whole thing. Right about how it had been coming between them, tearing them apart.

They would be convinced. And she would continue to watch. And learn. Until the day came to act. To take a stand.

The pain in her temple evaporated. Raven crawled from her cramped, dark place. She stood, stretched and smiled. She would take care of everything. No matter the cost.

Raven ran out to where she knew her family waited.

19
 

R
aven hadn’t been able to convince Andie that Mrs. X wasn’t in any danger, and though Andie had tried to abide by her friend’s wishes, she couldn’t. No matter how often she told herself that Raven had been in there, that she would know if Mrs. X was in danger, no matter how often she reminded herself of the horrible repercussions should she and her friends be found out by their parents, she couldn’t let it rest.

Right was right and wrong was wrong. She believed that. She believed that not acting on conscience was wrong. And her conscience told her that Mrs. X was in trouble and that she had to do something.

So, here she was, at the Thistledown police department. Andie squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and stepped through the double glass doors. She had her story worked out. She had practiced what she would say, how she would explain, keeping as close to the truth as possible without implicating Raven and Julie. She would claim to have acted alone; any heat to be taken, she would take personally.

It would work. It had to.

She crossed to the front desk. The uniformed officer looked up, his expression anything but welcoming. “Can I help you?”

She swallowed hard, struggling to hide her nerves, her doubts. “May I speak to a detective, please? I…I need to report a crime.”

“Our detectives are busy, honey. This isn’t about your boyfriend breaking up with you, is it?”

Her cheeks heated and she drew herself to her full height, hoping to look older. “Of course not.”

“Nature of the crime?” He barked the words at her and she hesitated, confused. “Nature of the crime,” he said again, glancing at his watch, impatient.

“A murder,” she blurted out. “I need to report a murder.”

The officer narrowed his eyes, then nodded and pointed. It was clear he didn’t believe her, but obviously the accusation was serious enough to warrant some discussion with a detective. “Sit over there. Somebody’ll be right out.”

Andie did and within a couple of minutes a man wearing a rumpled-looking suit came and collected her. He didn’t smile, but introduced himself as Detective Peters and asked her to follow him.

He led her into the squad room, to a desk littered with papers and file folders. Another man sat on its edge.

The second man smiled. “I’m Detective Nolan,” he said. “The brains of this outfit.”

Peters scowled. “My partner, the comedian. Have a seat.” He indicated the chair directly across from his. Andie took it, grateful because her legs had begun to shake. He extracted a small spiral notepad from his inside coat pocket, flipped it open and looked at her. “Name?”

“Name?” she repeated, swallowing hard, realizing that there was no going back now. “Do I have to tell you that?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Andie Bennett.”

“Address?” She told him and he wrote it down. “Age?”

She thought about lying but figured they’d find out the truth anyway. “Fifteen.”

“You live here in Thistledown?”

She nodded, her mouth dry. “With my mom and…just my mom. And my little brothers.”

The detective looked up. The fleshy folds around his eyes seemed to swallow them. “Where’s your dad?”

“He and my mom…they split up.”

“I see.” He made a note. “But he lives in Thistledown?”

She nodded again, uncomfortable already, wishing she had listened to her friends. Now it was too late. She had told the officer out front that she was here to report a murder; she didn’t think they would let her say, “Just kidding,” and walk away.

Peters tossed down his notebook and sat back. “Okay, Andie, talk to me. The desk sergeant says you want to report a murder. That’s a serious statement. You got a body to go with this crime?”

She flushed. “Not exactly.”

The detectives exchanged glances. “No?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a murder. Not yet.”

Peters narrowed his eyes. She wondered how he still managed to see through them. “Then why’d you tell the sergeant it was?”

She clasped her hands together, mostly to keep them from shaking. “I had to talk to you…to someone,” she said. “The thing is…I’m afraid, afraid there
will
be a murder.” She twisted her fingers together. “And I want to stop it from happening.”

“I see.” Again, the men exchanged glances. Peters cleared his throat. “I think you’d better start at the beginning, then we’ll talk about what we can do.”

As Andie began to do just that, another man entered the squad room. He was younger than the other two detectives, with curly dark hair. He wore blue jeans, a khaki-colored shirt and a tie that looked as if it had been picked by a blind man. As he passed them, he nodded in the detectives’ direction.

“Go ahead, Andie. That’s just Detective Raphael. Our resident rookie Boy Scout.” Peters crumpled a piece of paper and tossed it at him. “Done any goods deeds today, Raphael?”

Andie glanced over her shoulder in time to see the rookie smile, catch the paper with one hand and shoot his colleague the bird.

“Hey, watch that, Raphael. We’ve got a minor here.”

Andie turned back to Peters, more nervous than ever. She looked the man steadily in the eyes anyway. “I’ve seen the bird flipped before, Detective Peters. On occasion, I’ve even flipped it myself.”

The officer behind her chuckled; the one before her looked annoyed. It occurred to her that perhaps the two detectives were trying to unnerve her. She had seen TV shows about cops, and that was a technique they seemed to use a lot.

She cleared her throat, pleased that she hadn’t revealed how nervous they had made her. “Do you want me to start?”

“That’s why we’re here.”

So she did, beginning with the music and her own curiosity, then telling them about the man, the black silk scarves, then about the woman, the rope and the violent sex.

She spoke as clearly and as calmly as she could, forcing herself to keep from looking at the floor and mumbling in embarrassment. Peters was staring at her in stunned disbelief, Nolan’s thin, bloodless lips were twisted into a smirk, and behind her, the young detective had become as still and silent as a statue.

When she finished, the squad room was so quiet she could have heard a pin drop. After a moment, Peters cleared his throat. “That’s quite a story, young lady.”

“Quite a story,” Nolan seconded.

“Seems to me,” Peters continued, “that you’ve gone and stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“What?” She made a sound of disbelief. “But, don’t you see—”

“I see a girl who’s going to be in a world of trouble when her parents find out what she’s been up to.” Peters stood. “Raphael, what’ve you got going right now?”

“Not much.”

“I want you to deliver Ms. Bennett to her mother, please.”

“Wait!” She jumped to her feet. “Look what I found in the library.” She pulled out the folded article and handed it to Peters. “Look, right there. I underlined it.”

Detective Peters read it, then held the paper out for her. “So?”

“So?” Her cheeks burned. “It says this kind of…of thing can lead to murder.”

“But it rarely does, kid. Take it from me.”

She stared at him, angry, humiliated. “You’re not going to do anything?”

“Yeah, I’m going to do something. Against my better judgment, I’m going to let you go home without sending you to juvenile or calling your parents myself. This time. Next time I won’t be such a nice guy.”

“But—” she struggled not to cry “—Mrs X is in danger. I know she is.”

“Look, kid, consensual sex between adults isn’t against the law. Even when it’s pretty sick stuff. Breaking and entering is. Peeping on other people is. Got that?” He leaned toward her. “What I’m saying is, the only one who’s broken a law here is you. Now, you seem like a nice enough kid, I suggest you go home to mommy and keep your nose out of other people’s private business.”

She shook with fury and embarrassment. She got to her feet. “Fine. But when Mrs. X is found dead, I’ll tell everyone you could have helped but didn’t,
Detective Peters.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, that happens we’ll call you first and you can come in and give us a detailed account of what you saw.” The odious man grinned. “Blow by blow.”

She caught his meaning, the double entendre, and heat washed over her. She glared at them.
Jerks! Pea-brained idiots! They made her sick.

“Miss Bennett?” The Boy Scout touched her elbow. “Ready?”

She jerked her arm away and stalked out of the squad room. She stiffened her spine as she heard Peters and Nolan laugh. One of them made a joke about ropes and blow jobs. The other about that being the only way to cash it in.

The rookie guided her to a squad car. He opened the front passenger door for her, and she scowled at him. “Seeing how I’m such a terrible person, going and sticking my nose in other people’s private business, I would have thought you’d put me in back, in the cage.”

He grinned. “Do I need to?”

She jerked her chin up. “What do you think?”

“You look pretty tough, but I’ll take my chances. Hop in.”

She did as he asked, though what she really wanted to do was wipe the patronizing smile from his face. She didn’t need his pity any more than she needed those other jerks’ sly amusement. This wasn’t a joke. She needed their help. Mrs. X needed their help.

Screw them all, she thought, turning toward the window. No wonder people called them pigs.

He went around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel. “Where’s home?”

“Happy Hollow,” she muttered, shooting him a furious glance.

“Look,” he said, “I don’t blame you for being pissed off, but Peters and Nolan really are good cops.” The detective turned out of the parking lot and onto Main. “They’ve just been around so long they’ve forgotten how to give a kid the benefit of the doubt.”

Kid? As far as she was concerned, they were the ones who’d acted like kids. Immature assholes.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I may not always agree with their methods, and I know their personalities can grate, but they were right, Andie. The only one who’s broken a law is you.”

“Lucky me.” She folded her arms across her chest and slouched deeper into her seat, feeling completely sorry for herself.

“I think it was pretty decent of them to let you go. I would have called juvenile and your parents.”

“Is that why they call you Boy Scout?” she asked, trying to mask her humiliation with nastiness. “You’re always doing the right thing? You’re always by the book?”

He smiled. “Try to be.”

“So, Detective, what merit badge are you working toward today?”

He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes, amused. “You’re pretty cocky for a kid who’s not more than a hair-breadth away from getting into serious trouble.”

“I’m not the one who’s in trouble,” she muttered, frustrated, turning her gaze toward the window, seeing the entrance for Happy Hollow just ahead. “But nobody wants to listen. After all, I’m just a stupid kid.”

For a moment, he said nothing. She felt his gaze. “You’re not even the least bit worried about how your folks are going to react to your being brought home by the police? I guess things must have changed, my dad would have whooped my butt. I wouldn’t have been able to sit for a week.”

She hadn’t thought of that—of her mother’s reaction to her daughter being brought home by the police.

Andie imagined her mother’s expression. Upset and hurt. So much for the daughter who wasn’t causing her any trouble. So much for her “good girl.”

“You’re quiet suddenly.”

Andie looked at him. Her only hope. If only she could take back her nastiness. If only she had thought ahead.

She cleared her throat, trying her best to look contrite. “I’m really sorry I acted like a jerk.”

“I’m glad to hear it, but no, I won’t cut you some slack and let you off a block from your house.”

“Please!” she cried, not too proud to beg. “My mom’s going through a really hard time. She’s… My dad, he—” Andie sucked in a deep breath. “Anyway, it would upset her if I…if I showed up in a patrol car.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I really am. But I have my—”

“Orders?” she filled in bitterly. “Boy Scouts always follow the rules. Right?”

He glanced at her. “You’re a minor. It’s my duty to make sure you get home safely. I’d be doing you and your parents a grave disservice if—”

“No, you wouldn’t. Please.” To her horror, her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll go right home. I promise. Please,” she said again as he turned onto her street. “My mom, she couldn’t handle this right now.”

He let out a long breath. “You’ll forget all about this Mr. and Mrs. X nonsense? You’ll stay away from that house? Curb your overactive imagination?”

She opened her mouth to tell him it wasn’t nonsense, that her imagination wasn’t running away with her, then closed it and nodded. “I promise. I didn’t realize how silly I was being. Please?”

The detective muttered something under his breath, swung the car to the side of the road and stopped. “You know, my butt’s going to be in a big-time sling if Peters and Nolan find out I didn’t deliver you to your door.”

“They won’t!” She pressed her hands together, prayer-style, pleading. “You’ll never see or hear from me again. I promise.”

He hesitated, then let out a long breath. “Okay. But—”

“Thanks!” She grabbed the door handle, anxious to get out before he changed his mind or one of the neighbors spotted her.

“Wait.” He caught her arm. “Just in case, I want you to take this.” He dug a card from his shirt pocket and held it out to her. “It’s got my number at the station and at home. If anything comes up, if you get in any kind of trouble, call me.”

Andie stared at the card a moment before taking it. “Okay,” she murmured, lifting her gaze to his. “But I’m not going to need it. You’re never going to see me again.”

BOOK: Shocking Pink
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