The Deepest Secret (38 page)

Dr. Cipriano steps out to the edge of his porch and looks down the street. Tyler presses himself against the tree. “Want me to take a look around?”

“Yes, thank you, I would. Would you mind checking inside, too?”

“Sure. Let me get a flashlight.” A minute later, Dr. Cipriano’s back. “Stay here.”

“Okay.”

Dr. Cipriano crosses the lawn slowly, shining the beam of his flashlight into the bushes in front of Sophie’s house. They stand out sharp and black. Then he walks around her house and disappears from view. Tyler jiggles in place, impatient. At last, Dr. Cipriano reappears on the other side. He walks up the steps and into Sophie’s house. The light from his flashlight jumps around inside, making ghost circles on the windows. Then Dr. Cipriano jogs down the steps and over to where Sophie’s waiting and switches off his flashlight. “Looks clear. But it wouldn’t hurt to give the police a call.”

“That’s all right. I guess I’m just being paranoid. Thanks for checking everything out.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s just all the awful things going on lately. Did you hear Larry Farnham’s car was keyed last night?”

“No kidding.”

“What’s going on around here? This used to be such a nice place to live.”

“Want to hang out for a little while? We can watch TV or something.”

“I’ll be all right.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will, thanks. Good night, Neil.”

“Night, Sophie.”

Charlotte’s house has a light burning out front. Charlotte and Robbie sit in the living room. Her face is white as paper, white as cotton. Robbie leans close, says something that makes her frown and shake her head. He grabs her hands, talking faster and faster, until Charlotte suddenly stands up.

She walks away, holding onto the wall for support. Robbie leans forward to look at the photograph albums opened across the coffee table. Then he stands, wanders around the room. He stops in front of Amy’s old dollhouse and crouches to pick up a doll with straggly yellow hair. It had been one of Amy’s favorites. She had dragged it everywhere, holding onto one plastic hand like it was real. Here it is, dressed in a poufy dress with black shoes, a pink ribbon tied around its head, sitting propped up in that dollhouse that was falling apart. Tyler’s mom had been making Amy a new one, with lights that turned on and off. He wonders what she’ll do with it now.

Robbie’s still holding the doll, staring down into its sleeping face. Amy would hate him touching her things. She would have yelled at him and snatched the doll away. Tyler’s hit with a sudden bolt of longing. He misses her, small and fierce, with her messy hair and her freckles, all her stupid questions.

Robbie squeezes the doll’s soft body between his hands, then pulls the ribbon free. He rubs the silky length against his cheek, and by the time Charlotte returns, carrying a tray of coffee cups, Robbie’s pushed the ribbon into his pocket and set the doll down.

Outside Holly’s house, a baby’s cry pierces the quiet. Tyler stops on the sidewalk, waits for the flash of a lamp turning on. He searches the windows for the shadow of Holly walking down the hall, going into the baby’s room. But the house remains dark. The wail goes on and on, until finally it grows thin and, after another second or two, hiccups itself into silence.

EVE

S
he stares at her laptop screen. The house is quiet. Somehow she’d managed to make breakfast for Tyler and see Melissa off to the school bus, but now she’s depleted. She should be working. That’s what innocent people do. They stay on track. She opens her email.

Izzie’s getting annoyed. She doesn’t come out and say so, but the irritation is there, hovering between the sentences and exclamation points.
No
, she’s pointed out. Her New York event isn’t in December, and what about her book signings in Texas? Eve checks Izzie’s original email and, sure enough, she’s missed an entire paragraph of content. There’s no excuse for the December mistake. Izzie had clearly written July.
If I didn’t know you better
, Izzie wrote.
I’d say you were losing your mind, lol!!!

Eve hears voices outside. She goes to the window and peels the drape back a few inches. Sophie’s over on her lawn, talking with the
Farnhams. A flash of white at the top of the street catches Eve’s attention. A large van’s turning onto the ravine road, large black wording on its side clearly visible.
EMERSON SECURITY SYSTEMS
.

The garage door moves slowly along its tracks, too slowly. Eve ducks low, the metal edge of the door brushing the hair on the top of her head. Sophie sees her coming. She lifts her chin and braces her body.

“Sophie, please. You said you were going to think about it.”

“I did,” Sophie says. “And this is what I decided.”

“But not
that
.” Eve waves her hand at the metal floodlights attached to Sophie’s roofline. “
Please
. I can’t tell you how dangerous they are.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t dictate what I can and what I can’t do.”

“I’m not dictating. Believe me, I’m not. But don’t you understand? Those could
kill
Tyler.”

“Sophie has a right to protect herself,” Larry says.

“You stay out of this,” Eve says.

A front door slams, and Mark Ryland comes jogging down his steps toward them. He looks irritated, his face puffy with sleep. “What’s going on? Those things look like they’re aimed at my house.”

This is good. Someone else is taking up her cause. Sophie will listen and see that her actions affect everyone. Here comes Albert, swinging his arms with determination. “Everything okay?” he calls. His sweater’s misbuttoned and there’s a curl of shaving cream on his neck.

“I’ll only turn them on at night,” Sophie insists.

Mark throws up his hands. “While my kids are trying to sleep?”

“Well, you can close your blinds if it’s a problem.”

“It’s already a problem. I don’t want those damn things shining at my house.”

“It’s the only way to cover my front walk.”

Albert comes over to stand beside Eve. “What’s going on?”

“You’re just in time for the Eve Show,” Sophie says.

“Why are you acting this way?” Eve says. “We’ve always gotten along. I thought we were friends.”

“Of course you are.” Albert pats Eve’s arm. “Sophie doesn’t mean anything by that.”

“Don’t tell me what I mean.”

Neil’s pulled into his driveway and is getting out of his car. “What happened? Did that guy come back?”

“What guy?” Eve asks.

“Sophie has a stalker. The guy’s really messing with her.”

“It’s been horrible,” Sophie says. “I came home last night and found he’d turned my welcome mat around. He’s left flowers in my mailbox. I’ve found footprints outside my windows.”

“Did you call the cops?” Joan Farnham says.

“And tell them what?”

“Exactly what you told us,” Mark says. “We can have a patrol car drive by.”

“A patrol every couple of hours? That’s not enough,” Sophie says. “You can’t tell me that’s enough. I’m a single woman living alone. I have to protect myself.”

“That’s true,” Neil agrees. “But those lights look pretty powerful.”

“She’s using halogen bulbs,” Eve protests.

Neil turns to Sophie. “Why would you do that? You know we can’t use halogen bulbs.”

Of course Neil would understand. Of course he’d take her side.

“I’m sorry,” Sophie says. “I really am, but I have to think of my own safety.”

“Halogen bulbs won’t keep you safe,” Eve says. “If you don’t want someone looking in your windows, keep your curtains closed.”

“It’s not just that. It’s Larry’s car being keyed; it’s that creeper Albert saw. It’s what happened to Amy.”

“I didn’t know about Larry’s car,” Eve says. “But what happened to Amy was an
accident
.”

“She’s still dead,” Charlotte says, shockingly there, coming right up beside Mark Ryland. She’s wearing an oversize sweater that hangs from her narrow shoulders. Her hair is wet, scraped back to reveal the bones of her gaunt face. Her lashes are pale, her eyes bloodshot.

“Charlotte,” Eve says, horrified. “I didn’t mean …” But Charlotte won’t even look at her.

“We all just need to calm down,” Albert soothes. “Let’s talk about this at the next homeowners’ meeting.”

“You can discuss it all you want,” Sophie snaps. “But it’s not going to make me change my mind.”

“How can you be so selfish?” Eve says.

“Really, Eve? I already live on a street without streetlights. I already turn off my headlights when I drive home at night.”

“Sophie’s right,” Larry says. “If we had working streetlights, we wouldn’t have creeps and vandals roaming around.”

“And trying to poison our pets,” Sophie adds.

Eve feels a swell of panic. The council voted to allow the bulbs in the streetlights to be removed, but that was because everyone on the cul-de-sac agreed. This was before the Farnhams and Sophie moved in. Eve can’t allow the issue to be raised again. “Streetlights don’t stop people from committing crimes.”

“Sure they do,” Larry says.

“Eve has a point,” Neil says. “All this stuff that’s been happening lately doesn’t have anything to do with streetlights. For all we know, it could be one of us who’s the rotten apple. We don’t really know each other. We don’t have a clue what goes on behind closed doors.” He turns to Sophie. “You always rush into your house. Why? What’s so important you can’t stop to chat for a minute?”

Sophie flushes and crosses her arms. “What about that kiddie pool I saw you carry in last weekend? I mean, that’s weird. What do you want with a kiddie pool?”

“That strange package I took in for you,” Joan says. “The one from Africa?”

“You know,” Larry says to Mark, “everything was fine before you moved in.”

Charlotte looks at Mark with a frown. “That’s true, isn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mark swings toward Sophie. “Want to know what I think? I think it’s strange that that guy’s so interested in you. I think it’s even stranger you haven’t reported it. Yeah, that’s right. I looked into it. If you’re so worried about someone sneaking around your house, why haven’t you called the station?”

“Are you really a cop?” Sophie fires back. “You don’t drive a cruiser. You don’t wear a uniform. We’re supposed to take your word that you’re who you say you are?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eve says.

“Let’s not be like this, folks,” Albert pleads. “We’re all on the same side here.”

“Like you’re the voice of reason,” Larry snarls. “Could you hire a lawn service, for crying out loud? Your yard looks like crap.”

Mark snorts. “Says the guy who’s building a theme park in his backyard. Isn’t there some rule about how much shit we can put in?”

“You should keep your windows closed, Sophie,” Neil says. “Unless you want people to hear you talk about how you like it rough.”

“You’re one to say anything,” Sophie says. “I remember what it was like when Bob was living with you.”

Neil’s heart had been broken when Bob moved out. “Stop,” Eve implores. “Everyone, just stop.”

There was a flash of movement behind her. Holly Ryland’s coming down her front path. She’s wearing a peach-colored kimono wrapped around her slim frame.

“I’ve been seeing Scott around a lot lately,” Larry says to Charlotte. “Has he moved back home?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is if he’s planning to take up his old habits. I won’t keep quiet this time.”

“About what?” Holly stands close to her husband. “What are you talking about?”

“Like strange cars coming and going all the time. Like small packages changing hands. You don’t think I know what that means?”

Charlotte stabs a finger at Larry. “Be careful, Larry. You want everyone to know that you’re the one who put poison in Albert’s yard?”

“I did no such thing.”

“Everyone knows you hate animals.”

“Maybe it was for the skunks,” Holly says. It’s a strange thing to say. Her eyes are bright, too bright. Albert’s right. There’s something wrong with her.

“Why didn’t you let the police in when Amy went missing?” Sophie asks Neil. “You made them stand on the porch.”

“You did?” Charlotte says.

“All I need is a ladder,” Mark says. “And I can take care of those lights right now.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sophie says. “Or I’ll call the cops.”

“Go ahead. I could use a hand taking those things down.”

“Larry’s got a ladder,” Neil says, and Mark nods. “Sounds good.”

“What are you talking about?” Larry says. “You can’t take my things.”

“No one’s talking about taking anything,” Neil says. “We just want to borrow a ladder. I know you have one.”

“Don’t you dare,” Joan says.

“Why?” Mark says, and his voice is different now, filled with warning. “What have you got in there that you don’t want anyone to see?”

“It’s private property,” Larry says. “Sophie’s right. What kind of cop are you?”

“The kind who wants to take a look,” Mark says.

“You have a warrant?” Larry says.