Deceiver

  Fuck. I rest my hand on my chest and turn around to rejoin the girls.

  “I’m sorry,” Lora explains. “It was that mask!”

  “Shh.” Sami scolds Lora and then hands me my flashlight. “Quiet.”

  “Sorry, but she’s scary as hell. It’s creeping me out,” Lori whispers.

  I giggle quietly as we sneak up behind the property and creep to the back door. We huddle around Sami as she pulls out her lock-picking gear and starts to work on the door.

  “Are you sure you can do this?” I ask skeptically.

  “Well, I’m damn sure going to try,” she grumbles. “There are some things from your wild, crazy youth you just don’t forget.”

  I watch for a second and then glance around at the back of the house. On tiptoes, I head over to an open window, peering into the empty kitchen. Cracked about an inch, there’s no screen, no bars, no nothing.

  “Psst. Over here!” I try to shout quietly.

  Lora creeps over to stand beside me. “Well, I’ll be damned. Sami!” she whispers loudly.

  “What is it?” Sami replies irritably, hard at work on the lock.

  “Here.” I roll my eyes at Lora and pry the window up all the way. “Give me a step.”

  Lora leans over, creating a stirrup with her hands, and hoists me up. I change my mind half-way inside, balancing mid-way, my top half suspended over the kitchen sink, my legs kicking wildly at the air outside.

  Helpful friend that she is, Lora grabs my legs and pushes.

  “No!” I whisper-scream. “Don’t! Ack!” I tumble inside, my head in Mr. Stratford’s sink, my legs crashing into a row of canisters on the counter.

  “Shh,” I hear Lora warning outside.

  I sigh as I uncurl myself and try to get my footing. Finally, I stand with my feet on the floor, dusting myself off and trying to adjust my eyes to the dark house. I dig the small flashlight out of my coveralls and click it on. The light is extremely wimpy, illuminating only a few inches in front of my feet. Okay, where’s the back door?

  I hold the flashlight in front of me, my hands shaking as I make my way slowly around to the back, tiptoeing and tapping blindly against the wall with my hand. I step around the corner to the laundry room where I suspect the back door is hiding, and then it happens… I crash head-first into someone. Then, for the second time tonight, I scream bloody-fucking murder.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I fall backward, landing on my ass still screaming like a wounded banshee. Then, another high-pitched scream assaults my ears.

  “Jesus! Shut the fuck up, you two!” Sami bellows.

  I sit there on the floor for a second, my chest heaving in and out like a cheap accordion and my stomach rolling like an angry sea.

  “Take that stupid mask off,” Lora snaps.

  “No. That’s the agreement. Mask stays on. We can’t take any chances,” Sami argues. “Now, come on. Hurry up. We have to find those pills.”

  I creep back into the kitchen and try to straighten the canisters that I fell on top of. Then, I pull the window back down all the way and lock it out of habit.

  “Where do you think he keeps them?” Lora whispers.

  “I don’t know. Let’s split up,” I suggest.

  “Okay,” Sami whispers. “You go check the bedroom and the bathroom. Lora and I will look in here. Maybe he stashes them in the cabinet?”

  I hear them rustling through the cabinets, opening and closing drawers and scraping through all the contents as I creep down the hall in search of the bathroom.

  Inside, I shine the light into the medicine cabinet and begin the frisking, picking up each bottle and each tube individually to check the labels. Toothpaste, denture cream, out of date antibiotics, anti-fungal cream for jock itch… Ew! Gross! I flip the tube out of my hand, and it lands noisily in the sink. Cursing under my breath, I pick it back up, placing my fingers strategically at the very corner and lifting it like a crane back into the cabinet. This isn’t working. I don’t see the pills anywhere.

  Still, I complete my due diligence, combing through all the shelves, digging through every drawer, and pilfering through every square inch of the counter. Finally, I pause and lean against the counter top, thinking.

  I bet he has a master bath!

  I inch along farther down the hall, listening to the hushed whispers of Lora and Sami in the kitchen. My hand feels a door to my left. I push it open, and it squeaks like something out of The Shining. I pop my head inside, peering around cautiously. I can’t use my light. This room is at the front of the house, and I can’t take the chance of someone seeing me through the window. It doesn’t look like the master bedroom, anyway. I pull the door shut and continue on down the hall.

  At the end of the hallway, I run into another door. This has to be it. Tentatively, I push it open and poke my head in through the crack.

  This is it. I make my way inside with the stealth of a jungle cat, actually more like a bull in a china shop, and I begin to scour the nightstands and the dresser. Nothing. I shine my light around and spy another door. The master bath.

  Inside, I continue my search the same way I did in the hall bath. I reach my hand inside the medicine cabinet and pluck out a good candidate. Shining the light on the label, I rotate the bottle in my fingers as I read carefully.

  Jesse Stratford, Bis-o-pro-lol.

  I found it! I wrench open the bottle, preparing to call for Jade to bring me the replacement pills.

  Suddenly, there’s a blood-curdling squeal from the kitchen. “He’s coming!”

  I shriek, startled, flinging little red pills all over hell’s half acre, along with my flashlight, which lands with a crash on the cold, hard tiles. I hear it shatter, and the room goes pitch dark. “Son of a bitch!”

  “Candy, come on!”

  “Wait!” I shout. “I found them!”

  Not that it will do us any good anymore. I drop to my knees in full-on panic mode, unsure what to look for first, the pieces of my flashlight or the pills. I slide my hands across the floor, feeling around for the flashlight and scooping up all the pills as I go.

  “Candy, now! We don’t have time. We have to go!”

  “Hang on!” I urge desperately, madly raking everything I can find into my hand and shoving it into my pockets. I decide to just take the pills, along with the bottle, assuming I can find them all.

  I can’t see a fucking thing, and I have no idea whether I’ve found all the pills and pieces or not. I decide to bite the bullet and flip on the light switch. I stand up, feeling along the wall for the switch. I finally find it, squeeze my eyes shut, and flip it on. I open one eye and peek. Well, fuck.

  I drop to my knees again, crawling behind the toilet to get the cap of the flashlight. I grab it, along with a handful of little curly pubes. Ugh! I gag.

  Standing up, I’m about to flip off the light again when I see a battery in the corner, partially hidden by the trash bin. I debate for a second and then I run over, scoop it up and drop it into my pocket. There. I turn out the light and prepare to haul ass back to the laundry room.

  I decide it’s faster to crawl so I drop to all fours again as soon as I’m in the bedroom. I squint, trying to see as I make my way down the hall, flying like Fred Flintstone. Granted, that flashlight wasn’t great, but it was still a helluva lot better than nothing!

  “Lora! Sami!” I whisper as I crawl.

  As soon as I reach the kitchen, I hear a key jiggling in the front door. My body freezes, and my heart leaps into my throat. Holy crap! I scramble around and scuttle back toward the bedroom at warp-speed.

  Inside, I slink around like a snail on speed, ricocheting off the furniture as I look for a place to hide. The front door slams, and a light pops on at the end of the hall. I look around, suddenly feeling about as exposed as a turd in a punchbowl.

  I race to the window and throw it open, only to be thwarted by a screen. I try the other one—same story. I hear footsteps in the kitchen, cabinets open and closing, and then th
e person is coming down the hall toward me.

  Terrified, I drop down and belly-crawl with extreme vigor to the bed, rolling beneath it as I hold my breath. Several of the bright red pills spill out of my pocket and roll around on the floor as I maneuver into the tight space, but it’s too late. I can see Mr. Stratford’s feet coming down the hall. I don’t have time to grab them.

  Inside my pig mask, I squeeze my eyes closed and pray. When I open them again, Mr. Stratford’s feet are in the room with me. The springs creak and bend beneath his weight as he plops down on the edge of the bed and begins to remove his shoes.

  Beads of sweat collect on my forehead and drip down my face. My eyes sting as I try to blink them away. Suddenly, the squeaky bed gets loud again. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

  Mr. Stratford stills for a moment. Then, he leans over and pinches a red pill off the floor. He sits back up, quiet and still. I suspect he’s examining it, trying to figure out why the hell it’s lying there in the bedroom floor. Then, the bed squeaks again as he bends down and pinches another one, his long, bony fingers within centimeters of my face.

  I’m fucked. I’m fucked. I’m fucked.

  He stands up, turning to face the bed, his sock-covered toes pointing right at me. He takes a step back and, placing his hands on the bed, lowers himself to his knees. I hold my breath, my heartbeat deafening me. His hand lands, palm-down on the floor as he prepares to look under the bed.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. I find myself supremely religious as his other hand presses flat against the floor. What do I do?

  Suddenly, a whisker-stubbled face and two beady eyes appear directly in front of me, locked in a deadly stare.

  “Aeeeooorgh!” I scream and charge out from under the bed, oinking and snorting like some demon pig from hell.

  “Aargh!” he yells, falling back into the dresser, his fingers clawing at his chest.

  I pause for a second, confused, blinking at him as he stares back, his shocked eyes frozen wide, his face twisted with terror. I grunt and then, run like a bat out of hell down the hallway. Fuck it!

  I fly out the front, nearly ripping the screen door off its hinges, and then I boot scoot into the woods, huffing and puffing, panting like my ass is on fire.

  I disappear into the thicket, circling around toward the road and the little grove of Walnut trees where we left Lora’s car. The closer I get, the more I panic. I don’t see the car. It’s gone!

  I pull the mask off my face and try to stuff it back into my purse, my hands shaking so bad, I’m not even sure I can get it in. Then, headlights up ahead.

  I duck behind a tree and strip out of the coveralls. Peering around, I watch the car approach, driving at a snail’s pace as it comes closer into view. It’s them! I leap out and bound toward them, opening the back door and tumbling inside while the car is still moving. Lora takes off like a streak, and I lie there across the back seat, my heart still thumping like a jackhammer.

  “Oh my God!” Sami turns completely around in her seat and looks down at me. “What the fuck happened back there?”

  Why is she so pissed? I’m the one who got caught, not her. “I. Spilled. Pills,” I manage to say between breaths.

  “Okay. New rule. From now on, when someone shouts ‘he’s coming!’ or ‘get the fuck out of there now!’, we split, immediately, no questions asked.”

  “Okay, okay. We get it,” Lora says calmly.

  Sami turns around and falls back into her seat. “Tonight was a complete and total disaster. Not to mention, a total waste of our time. We put ourselves at risk for what? Nothing!”

  Lora raises her chin so she can look at me in the rearview mirror. “So, what happened?”

  I sit up, able to breathe now and somewhat recovered. “Well… I think I killed him,” I reply.

  “What?” they shout in unison, and Sami turns back around in her seat. “What?” she repeats.

  “When you shouted at me from the kitchen, it scared me, and I jumped. I had just opened the bottle of pills I got from his medicine cabinet, and they went flying everywhere. All over the place.” I shake my head, recalling. “The flashlight, too. So then, I had to feel around in the dark and try to find all the pills and flashlight pieces. By the time I collected them all, he was already in the house. I didn’t have time to run.”

  “You should have left them,” Sami argues.

  “Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” Lora snaps. Sami glowers at her.

  “Well, I didn’t do that. In retrospect, yes. That probably would have been the smarter thing to do. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe that they’d find our fingerprints on everything and catch us?” I pause, realizing how stupid that sounds. “Hell, I don’t know. What can I say? I panicked.”

  “Why’d you say you killed him?” Sami asks.

  “Because when I saw I couldn’t get out, I hid beneath the bed. And, when he bent down to pick up some of the pills off the floor, he looked under there, stared right into my eyes.” I lean forward and see the street to my house coming up. “Lora, turn here and take me home so I can get my car.”

  “Okay,” she agrees as if we’re out for a leisurely Sunday drive in the country.

  “So?” Sami says, irritated. “He looked under the bed, and…”

  “Well, I freaked out a little bit,” I confess. “I was still wearing that pig mask, you know, and sweating just like one all the while, too. So, I just rolled out and jumped to my feet, yelling and oinking like some pig monster. Anyway, it scared the hell out him. He fell back and was making weird gurgling noises and clutching at his chest.”

  “Seriously?” Lora peeks at me in the rearview again.

  “Yeah. His face was pasty-white, too. I think he was having a heart attack.”

  “No way.” Sami sits back down again. “No way our luck could be that good.”

  I shrug. “Well, it’s been pretty good so far.”

  We pull into my driveway a few minutes later, and I jump out, tossing the coveralls to Sami. “I need to hurry. I have about thirty minutes to get ready and get over to Dan’s house.”

  “Good luck!” Lora smiles.

  Oh, you don’t know the half of it. “Thank you.” I smile back at her.

  I rush inside, digging the pig mask back out as I race to Josh’s room. I return it to the shoe box and stuff it back into place beneath the other boxes. Then, I scramble to the bathroom to freshen up.

  When I’m done, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My face is flushed, and my cheeks are glowing. I look amazingly alive, like I’ve just had a really intense romp in the sack. I’m absolutely glowing. Damn. Murder agrees with me.

  Rushing back into the living room, I grab my purse and my jacket as my eyes flit critically around the room. Everything looks in order. I bend down and pick up Rufus’ overnight bag.

  “Rufus! Come on, boy. Let’s go see Dan.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  At eight twenty-nine, Rufus and I pull into Dan’s driveway. I slip the key from the ignition and sit there for a second, trying to pump myself up and rally around the maypole. I send Josh a quick text letting him know that I may not be home until tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed, anyway.

  I glance down at Rufus, who seems to know exactly where we are already, smiling and wagging his tail.

  “Well, Rufus. This is it. We’re either going to be together, or we’re not. Whatever happens, I want you to know that Mommy and Daddy both love you very much.”

  I laugh as I stroke his soft head. Then, I push open the door, and he leaps out, his little legs carrying him to the door as fast as they can. He bays at it while I finish collecting our things, and Dan opens it before I even get there.

  “Well, hey there, little buddy!” He squats in the doorway, petting and rubbing Rufus as the two of them smile and slobber on each other.

  Yes, I’m jealous.

  “Well, one would think you two have been separated for weeks.” I laugh.

  “It feels like it.” Dan stands
up and takes the bag of toys and treats from me, pausing to look me in the eyes. “I’m attached, and when I fall, I fall hard, you know.”

  What? Was that aimed at me?

  “Come on in.” He steps aside as I slide past him, and then closes the door behind us. “I stopped and got us some take-out on the way home from the office. Have you eaten yet?”

  Why didn’t I think of that? “No, I haven’t. That sounds great.”

  In the kitchen, we skirt around the rather large elephant in the room for several minutes as we prepare to eat, sorting napkins and silverware and fussing over the food. It almost feels normal as we stand at the counter, spooning noodles and sesame chicken onto our plates and making polite conversation. Dan tosses Rufus a piece of chicken, which he proceeds to smear across the nice, clean tile floor.

  “You know, we really shouldn’t be feeding him table scraps or people-food,” I muse aloud as I kneel down to wipe up the sesame sauce. “What a mess.”

  Dan chuckles. “I know, but I can’t stop loving him just because he makes messes. Right?” He pauses, his sparkling blue eyes gazing in mine. “Sometimes, love is just messy, I guess.”

  I can’t help myself. I stand up, stretching on my tiptoes, and wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, right in front of Rufus, and directly over the Spring Rolls.

  He throws down his spoon and reciprocates, grabbing me with shocking force, crushing me to him and kissing me with such ardor that my feet lift off the floor. I can’t breathe but I don’t care. I kiss him back with a fervor I’ve never felt before, our lips sucking and sliding and smacking, our tongues clashing, hips grinding.

  He buries his face in my neck, panting, his hot breath enveloping me as he hugs me tightly.

  “I love you,” he whispers. “God help me, I do, and I don’t want to be without you. I won’t.”

  I moan into his shoulder, my fingers digging into the hard flesh of his back. “Oh, Dan,” I sob. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh.” He cocks his head back, gazing at me through his thick, dark lashes. Then, he smiles, plucking a wayward strand from my face and pushing it carefully behind my ear. “I’m sorry. You confided in me. You told me the truth, and then I used it against you. I hurt you, and then, I had the gall to talk to you about trust.” He shakes his head. “Forgive me.”