Neighborhood Watch (29 page)

“He called before,” she said.

“Who called?”

“One of the shadows. He told me to keep my mouth shut or he would come for me next.

Let him come, Philip. Let him come.”

“One of the shadows? He said ‘shadows’?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, man,” Philip said. “Just go upstairs to bed, Marilyn. You’re drunk again.” He

directed her toward the stairway. “Come on,” he insisted. She walked, a smile on her face. Philip turned off the light in the storage room and closed the door. Then he followed behind, making sure she went up the stairs successfully.

He closed the basement door and turned her toward the bedroom.

“Go to sleep, Marilyn.”

“He called, Philip. He really called.”

“Okay. You can call those detectives tomorrow and tell them everything.”

“You’ll let me?” she asked, turning around.

“Why not?” Philip muttered. “Everyone should know what it’s like receiving a phone

call from a shadow,” he said.

She thought a moment.

“Yes,” she said. “Everyone should know. Then they would understand.”

She turned and continued toward the bedroom without looking back.

So she didn’t see the smile on Philip’s face.

13

BY THE END OF THE FOLLOWING WEEK, life at Emerald Lakes had finally settled

back into the old picture-perfect residential splendor. Angela Del Marco’s funeral had a sobering effect, of course. That day and the day following left a pall over the

development. Parents kept their children in their homes more. People drove even slower through the development’s streets, and when they met each other either in the

development or at the gate, they simply nodded, or if they spoke, spoke so softly they were nearly inaudible.

Steven Del Marco put the house up for sale. As soon as he had the sign on the lawn, Michele Lancaster began bringing prospective buyers to see the home. The boys were

sent to stay with Steven’s sister and the talk was that Philip Slater had arranged for Steven to find a new position with a different insurance company closer to her.

All week the Neighborhood Watch patrols paraded through the development at night.

Either Nikki or Philip, most often both, still accompanied each team, as well as going on their own tour. The first Neighborhood Watch patrol report was issued at the end of the week and delivered to each resident by the security guard. It listed problems spotted on the property of five residents, ranging from Bill Kimble’s keys in his car ignition to Claude Simmons’s portable television set on a picnic table in his backyard, which, it was not so subtly mentioned, faced the lake and thus could tempt potential thieves. The patrol cited two residents for forgetting to lock screen windows as well. Every violator’s name was printed in bold type.

Teddy was still upset with Kristin for trekking through the woods and around the lake and for sending the police to the Slaters, but he didn’t bring up the topic anymore. In fact, he tried to change the subject every time Kristin mentioned Angela Del Marco’s death.

On Thursday, he drove home in their new Lexus and took Kristin and Jennifer for their first ride. They went to dinner and the truce that had fallen again between them expanded into a warmer exchange. Teddy encouraged Kristin to elaborate on the changes she

wanted to make in the house and then announced that their income was going to take

another jump.

“We picked up the new accounts,” he said, “and the partners all feel I had a lot to do with it.”

“That’s wonderful, Teddy. You’re really very happy where you are now, aren’t you?”

Kristin asked a little wistfully.

“Yes, I am,” he said. “Once we get over the hump here and things go back to normal . . .”

“Over the hump,” Kristin said and sighed, but she didn’t obsess about it. She decided that from now on whatever thoughts she had about Angela’s murder and the conduct of the homeowners association, she would keep to herself. This new attitude was reinforced when Lieutenant Kurosaka called her late Wednesday afternoon to tell her they were

unable to find any usable prints on the papers she fished out of the lake.

“The perpetrator most likely wore gloves,” he said.

“Oh. Too bad. Are you going to try to speak with Mrs. Slater anyway?” she asked him.

He was silent a moment.

“I received a phone call from her on Tuesday,” he said. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but since you put me on her . . .”

“What did she say?” Kristin asked, excited.

“She told me she had received a phone call from one of the shadows.”

“Shadows? I don’t understand.”

“One of the shadows she claimed she had seen attack Mrs. Del Marco. This shadow

called and threatened her that if she didn’t keep her mouth shut, she would be hurt, too.”

“She said the shadow called?”

“Yes. Detective Martin, who has lived and worked in this area most of his life and has worked for Mr. Slater, explained to me why Mrs. Slater is a troubled woman these days. I suppose you know about it,” he said softly. “She’s a woman still in deep grief and pain,”

was all he added. She sensed his reluctance to gossip.

“Yes. I’m sorry I put you on a wild goose chase.”

“Not at all. I meant what I said when you were here. Should you have anything you think is important, please call. I’ll let you know if we get any break in the case soon.”

“Thank you,” Kristin said and retreated to her own thoughts, concluding Teddy was

probably right: she should leave the police work to the police.

Her backache subsided, but didn’t disappear so she went to see Doctor Hoffman. After he examined her, he told her he was concerned.

“You seem emotionally strained to me, Mrs. Morris. I don’t think you appreciate how traumatic an experience you had and what a toll it has taken on you. You’re wearing yourself down at a time when you should be building your strength. Why don’t you just concentrate on yourself for a while? Pamper yourself and don’t worry so much about the outside world,” he suggested.

He gave her a prescription to help her relax, but she didn’t tell Teddy about it. It would revive his fear of her having another miscarriage.

She tried to go back to her music and found her melodies coming out even heavier than before. She took frequent walks and sat by the lake to watch the birds over the water.

Occasionally, she saw someone fishing. People would back their boats up to the

lakeshore from the roadside. She got so she recognized the regulars, older men who

reminded her of her father and her Uncle Pete, two anglers who spent most of their time arguing over who had the right bait or the best fly for trout, neither very successful at it. It made her laugh.

Summer was stampeding its way in. The air was getting warmer and warmer every

passing day. The bushes and trees, all the overgrowth, thickened, the leaves and vines turning a richer shade of green, which gave the surface of the lake its emerald sheen. It’s like a grand deception, Kristin thought. Who could believe anything so horrible would happen in such a beautiful, peaceful setting?

Kristin considered continuing the work she and Angela had begun. However, she decided it was better to wait until after she gave birth. Doctor Hoffman was right; this was a time to pamper herself and certainly not a time to be in conflict with her neighbors.

She liked the Kimbles and the Simmonses, and twice she had stopped to talk with Kay Meltzer about the schools and raising children. They had a good conversation and

promised to do something together in the near future. Most of the people here were not unlike the rest of middle-class America, she decided. They wanted the same things for themselves and their families. It was just a few like Nikki Stanley who were over the top.

If she could just ignore them . . .

But, of course, she knew that was going to be impossible. That fact was hammered home early in the evening the following Monday when the door chime rang her tune. She was at the dining-room table reading a story to Jennifer. Teddy had gone back to the clinic for a meeting with the partners. Kristin went to the door and opened it to face Nikki Stanley, Charles Dimas, and Barry Lester. The three were dressed in black and carried their

flashlights. Nikki had a whistle on a string around her neck and a clipboard in her hand.

“Hi,” Kristin said, nodding at the men. Neither relaxed his face to soften the glum expression.

“We’re on patrol,” Nikki said sharply.

“I sort of guessed that,” Kristin said. Jennifer came up beside her and Kristin

instinctively put her hand on Jennifer’s little shoulder, drawing her closer. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s what you can do for yourself,” Nikki said. “One of your lights is off on the side of the house.”

“I thought they worked on a sensor or something,” Kristin said, directing herself to the men. But they stood like sentinels forbidden to speak, men turned to stone waiting for their terms of silence to end.

“They are,” Nikki said with a smirk. “You probably have a blown bulb.”

“I’ll tell Ted,” Kristin said. “Anything else?”

“Yes. May we come in?”

“What for?” There was a nagging feeling in Kristin’s stomach, an annoying tingle that stirred the fetus in her womb as well.

“We would like to show you something and suggest something,” Nikki said. “It will take only a minute.”

With obvious reluctance, Kristin stepped back and Nikki marched into the house, Barry and Charles following on her heels. Kristin stood by the door.

“Well?”

“We’d like to show you something in the office.”

“Office?” Kristin closed the door slowly, her mind searching for what they would

possibly criticize. Had she left a window open?

“Please,” Nikki said, her lips twisting as if the word left a bitter taste.

“This way,” Kristin said, leading them through the living room and down the corridor.

She put on the overhead light fixture in the office and stepped back.

“You see the view you have of the lake here?” Nikki said nodding toward the window.

“So?”

“You just happen to have a view of that part of the lake that runs along the highway, the area from which the intruder entered our development,” Nikki said and paused as if that were enough of an explanation. Kristin smiled with confusion and looked at the men, who did not smile back. The aura of seriousness emanating from Nikki washed over

them, turning them into clones. It began to unnerve Kristin, who felt her heart start to pound.

“And?”

“But the desk is set up so that when Teddy or you sit at it, you have your backs to the window. If you just turn this desk around so that you take advantage of this view, you could conceivably spot someone intruding.”

“Turn the desk around?”

“It’s a simple enough move and a small concession to our needs. It would make you and Ted more of a part of the Neighborhood Watch. We all have an obligation to be sentries.”

“Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far, Nikki? I mean . . .”

The muscles in Nikki’s face tightened.

“I’m surprised to hear you of all people say that. Angela Del Marco was your friend.

Imagine if either you or Teddy had been sitting here that night, facing the window, and had seen the intruder. You might have saved her life.”

Kristin shook her head and looked at the two men again, but they didn’t crack a wrinkle.

“First of all, it was raining so hard, I doubt anyone would have seen someone sneaking up from the lakeshore, and, second, you’re frightening everyone here into a bunker

mentality.”

Nikki snapped her head back as if Kristin had slapped her.

“Taking preventive measures and closing any gaps in our security is hardly a bunker mentality. Frankly, I would have expected more cooperation from you, the wife of one of our board trustees. If anything, you should be setting an example for the others.”

Kristin felt something burst in her chest, followed with an explosion of heat that traveled up her throat and into her face.

“Really? Who the hell do you think you are coming in here and dictating to me just how I should arrange my furniture? Turning this desk around would be stupid. Look where the lighting is. Look how the rest of the office is arranged. Don’t lecture me, Nikki,” Kristin fumed.

Nikki nodded. Kristin’s outburst barely changed her facial expression. It was as if she had expected nothing less. She remained smug, confident, and undaunted.

“The lightbulb has to be replaced within twenty-four hours,” she said firmly.

“Or?”

“Or you’ll be cited, board trustee or not. When a resident doesn’t follow the safety regulations in the CC and R’s, she or he simply puts an additional strain and burden on our security guards and now the Neighborhood Watch patrol. Because you won’t make a small change in your arrangement of the desk in here, the security patrol will have to be that much more concerned with this vulnerable place in our protective wall. That,

eventually runs up our costs, costs which we all bear.”

“I’ll see that the bulb is replaced, but I won’t start rearranging the furniture. It’s a ridiculous suggestion,” Kristin insisted.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“Don’t let me read about it on your Neighborhood Watch report,” Kristin warned.

Nikki smiled coldly and started away, Barry and Charles following. Kristin watched

them go to the front door, where Nikki deliberately paused to jot something on her

clipboard before leaving. Kristin’s heart continued to pound for a few moments.

“Mommy,” Jennifer said, tugging on Kristin’s skirt. “Can we go back to the story?”

“What? Oh. Sure, honey. Bitch,” she muttered under her breath, and then smiled at

Jennifer and returned with her to the dinning-room table. They had just started again, when Jennifer cried out and pointed to the ceiling.

“What’s that, Mommy?”

“What?”

Kristin looked up. The beam of a flashlight shining in through the front window slid over the ceiling.