by Brenda Novak
Sticking a finger down her throat, she gagged, almost threw up but then chickened out. She couldn’t do it. It was too painful, too gross.
But then the strangest thing happened. She didn’t need to try anymore. Just sitting there, leaning over the foul-smelling kitty litter with her stomach so unused to being full was enough. She began to retch and kept vomiting until she was sure there couldn’t be anything left inside her.
Afterward she slumped onto the floor and listened. The walls in this room were thicker than usual. She couldn’t hear much of what went on outside, at least beyond the hall directly in front of the door. But she’d finally realized that if she was very still and put her ear to the wooden floor, a few sounds drifted up from below. Faint though they were, she was learning to decipher the differences between the opening of the door, the phone, voices.
The house seemed silent, but she knew Tiffany or Colin would eventually come to check on her.
After shaking the box to cover the vomit, she crawled back to the mattress, dragging the chain as she went, hoping the stench that had already filled the room would cover the smell of puke.
She prayed that she’d vomited soon enough and had gotten it all out. She couldn’t fall asleep. She had to remain aware, had to figure out who was coming over. Colin and Tiffany had to be expecting company. They wouldn’t need to drug her if they were only leaving; they left all the time, and she’d never been able to get free.
Forcing herself to sit up, she hugged her knees to her chest and waited for sound or movement. If they came again, she’d pretend to be asleep so they’d stop worrying about her. Then, when it was clear their company had arrived, she’d use what little energy she had to cry out, rattle the chain, stomp—create enough noise to attract the attention of their guests.
But if Colin or Tiffany were the only ones who heard her, she wouldn’t have anywhere close to sixty-six marks on the baseboard.
* * *
It was Tiffany who answered the door when Zoe got to the house. “Hello.” She smiled but seemed so reserved and aloof that Zoe stayed at the door instead of proceeding inside, even though Tiffany stepped back to admit her.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked.
Tiffany’s effort to pump more energy into her smile was obvious. “Of course not. What makes you think that?”
“You seem a little…stressed.”
“It’s nothing. Just a bad day at work. And then your private investigator caught me as I got home to ask a few questions about Sam, so I’m running late.” She fanned her face; Zoe assumed she’d been racing frantically to pull the meal together. “I didn’t mind, of course,” Tiffany went on. “But there’s nothing I can do to help. And I already told the police that.”
“I’m sorry. He’s just…hoping that someone saw or heard something that’s been overlooked. Especially since you were home that day.”
“I wish I had heard something.”
“I know. And I really don’t mean to cause you extra work.” Zoe wanted to either come inside or leave. She didn’t want to remain standing on the stoop where Anton might see her. She wasn’t sure how she felt toward him and didn’t want to deal with any residual resentment or confusion. If not for Sam, she wouldn’t have returned to the neighborhood at all. “Would you rather I came over after you and Colin have had a chance to relax and eat? You don’t have to feed me—”
“It’s no problem,” Tiffany cut in. “The food’s almost ready.” She waved toward the couch. “Have a seat. Colin’s not home yet, but he’ll be here any minute.”
Zoe moved into the living room she’d glimpsed the day Sam went missing. It was as neat today as it had been then, but the furnishings weren’t nearly as good a quality as they appeared from a distance. The couch, coffee table, even the pictures, had probably been purchased from a discount store. She’d been with Anton long enough to spot a fake. He held any object that wasn’t the most authentic and the very best in the highest contempt. But everything here matched, right down to the pictures of Mediterranean villas on the wall. Only the roses on the dining-room table didn’t fall in line with the peach-and-beige decor.
“How lovely,” she said, gesturing at the roses.
Tiffany nodded. “Thanks. Colin gave them to me.”
“I hope I’m not intruding on your anniversary or some other special event.”
“No. He sent them to me just to say he loves me.” She smiled brightly, delighted by the flowers.
“How thoughtful.” And reassuring. Anything that proved Colin’s love for his wife made Zoe feel more comfortable about how interested and friendly he was with her. “Can I help with dinner?”
Tiffany’s teeth sank into her bottom lip as she considered the offer. “Is it normal to help when you’re a guest?” she asked. “I mean, would it be impolite of me to accept?”
“Not at all,” Zoe said with laugh. “I’m perfectly happy to pitch in, especially since it was my investigator who made you late. Please tell me what you’d like me to do.”
“I was making the salad. If you could finish slicing the carrots and cucumbers and add the beets and candied walnuts, I could go and change before Colin gets home.”
“No problem.”
Tiffany showed her into the kitchen, then hurried away as if Colin was a highly anticipated guest instead of joint host. But Zoe wasn’t offended that he was the person Tiffany most wanted to impress. She found it rather endearing.
Zoe was just adding the beets to the salad when Colin walked in. “Hello? Tiff? Hey, where’s Zoe?”
Zoe poked her head around the corner. “I’m here. Your wife’s upstairs getting changed.”
For a moment, he stared at her with such undisguised appreciation Zoe had to glance at the roses to remind herself that he and Tiffany must be getting along well. “Hungry?” she said to distract him.
“Definitely,” he replied, but she had a funny feeling that he wasn’t talking about food.
“Your wife’s done a beautiful job with dinner.” She ducked back into the kitchen, hoping Tiffany would show up, and wasn’t disappointed. Seconds later, she heard the rapid beat of footsteps hurrying down the stairs. “Colin, you’re home!”
“Finally,” he said. “I swear I don’t know what they’d do at that firm without me. I’m the newest one there, but I do eighty percent of the work.”
Zoe found that unlikely. She got the impression from his overloud voice that he was hoping to impress her, but tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Because you’re so smart,” Tiffany said.
Silence ensued, making Zoe hope they were hugging and kissing. Then Colin appeared at the entrance to the kitchen sans briefcase and Tiffany slipped around him to take over the salad.
“How do you like our home?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Has Tiffany given you the grand tour? We have a slightly different floor plan than Anton. We have one less bedroom, but still have the bonus room over the garage.”
Would it be different enough that there was any reason to show her? She couldn’t imagine it was but didn’t want to be impolite.
“Not yet,” she said. “I just got here a few minutes ago.”
“Let me show you what we’re going to do with the backyard.” He left and returned with a drawing that included a barbecue pit, a fancy patio, and a pool and hot tub, along with improved landscaping.
“This will be great. When are you planning to start?”
“In a year or so.”
“Will you fence off the pool once you have kids?”
This question was met with a blank look. “Why would we do that?”
Zoe had thought it would be obvious. “For safety reasons.”
“Colin’s never wanted children,” Tiffany piped up. “And I’m fine with that. We just want to be together.”
Zoe directed her gaze at Colin. Hadn’t he told her just the other night that they wanted a family? “I hope what’s happened to Sa
m hasn’t changed your mind.”
“No, it’s not that.” He shrugged. “We’ll probably have a kid someday. But that’s later. Much later. I’m only twenty-five. There’s a lot to do before we tie ourselves down.”
“Children are certainly a commitment,” she murmured.
“You got that right.” He winked at her. “But pets I can handle. They’re a different story entirely.”
She’d never heard him talk about animals. “Do you have any pets?”
“Not yet.” Tiffany shot her husband a look that indicated this might be a contentious issue between them.
“We’re considering a dog,” Colin said.
“What kind?” Zoe asked.
He opened a bottle of wine and poured her a glass. “What kind would you guess I’d like?”
She smiled. “I’m not sure.”
“One that can be trained to please,” he said, but before he could elaborate, Tiffany interrupted again and seemed almost…upset.
“Dinner’s ready.”
CHAPTER 21
“Are you high?” Tiffany whispered to Colin once they were in the kitchen. They’d finished eating dinner—a painful affair for Tiffany with her husband so attentive to Zoe. Now Zoe was using the bathroom.
He scowled at her. “Of course not. What are you talking about?”
“Don’t lie to me. You’re on drugs. I can tell.” Having Zoe over was a bad idea. Tiffany had been worried about it from the beginning, but now she was getting really worried. She could tell by the way Zoe kept glancing at her that she’d noticed Colin’s altered behavior. She could probably sense his sexual interest, too. He kept leering at her as if he wanted to rip her clothes off. “Is it Ecstasy?” she asked.
“What’s it matter to you?” He set the dishes he’d carried in the sink. “We were planning to party later. So what if I got a head start?”
“What’d you do?”
“I had one line of coke before I left the office, okay? No big deal.”
“You couldn’t have waited, Colin? We need to be careful around Zoe!”
“I haven’t given us away.”
“But if you keep talking about pets and how smart some of them can be she’s going to think it’s weird, okay? Don’t mention animals again! You’re making her nervous, and me, too.”
He shook his head as if he didn’t believe it. “You’re overreacting.”
“No, I’m not. If you want to have James and Tommy over tonight, and you want me to show them a good time, you’d better hurry up and get this route planning over with so she can be on her way.”
He grabbed her by the waist. “Now you’re threatening me?”
She blinked rapidly, fighting tears. “I won’t go to prison like my brother.”
“Oh, shit. I told you, no one’s going to prison—”
“Be quiet!” Tiffany broke in. “You’re talking too loud. Just get rid of her.”
He let go and folded his arms. “What if I don’t want to get rid of her? What if I want another pet—a mother-daughter combo?”
Tiffany’s knees went weak. She’d been afraid of this, afraid of where her husband’s mind had been wandering. “We can’t keep her!”
“She won’t be able to escape any easier than Sam. And she’ll be no harder to dispose of when we’re through.”
“She’s not a child. She’ll be cunning, more resourceful, stronger. So it will be different. And who knows how many people she told that she was coming here for dinner?”
“But imagine how she’d react to finding her daughter again. In a way, we’d be doing her a favor.” He laughed, cocking his head as he gazed down at her. “We’d be giving her what she wants.”
And what he wanted at the same time. He couldn’t wait to witness that painful moment when she realized she’d been stabbed in the back by someone she considered a friend.
Tiffany bit her lip. Sometimes he truly frightened her…. “Colin, no—”
“Yes! Then she’ll understand that you and I have an open relationship. That she doesn’t have to resist her attraction to me,” he argued. “You’re a big stumbling block for her. I can tell. All she does is talk about you.”
Tiffany felt her jaw drop. She was losing Colin, and this was proof. That realization alone was enough to make her feel faint. As much as he frightened her, she was more frightened of living without him. “We don’t have an open relationship,” she breathed.
“You’re going to have sex with my friends tonight. What do you call that?”
“You’re the one who begged me to go along with it!”
“But if I don’t mind, you shouldn’t mind. I told you, casual sex is casual sex. It’s just for kicks, a new twist to an old party.”
“Kicks? We’d be slitting our own throats if you kidnapped Zoe. Don’t even think about it.”
He pressed her up against the counter and started kissing her neck. “Come on, babe. For me?”
She began to waver, as she always did when he pleaded with her. Colin was so much fun—and so loving—when he was happy. But it was getting harder and harder to keep him happy. “She’s been in constant touch with the police and that investigator. What if she mentioned her dinner here?” she asked again.
“Why would she? It’s dinner at a neighbor’s. She doesn’t give them a schedule, only a phone number where they can reach her if they find Sam.”
Tiffany heard the flush of the toilet, knew they were running out of time. “It’s too risky.”
“Come on. Even if she told them she was having dinner with us, I can cover.”
“How?” she whispered.
“Leave that to me.”
“But I don’t want to do this!”
“Sure you do. When I’m done using the collar on her, we’ll let James and Tommy have her.”
Now Tiffany knew Colin was going too far. “Then James and Tommy will know she was with us!”
“We’ll give her a roofie, tie her up and put a bag over her head. They’ll be so high they’ll think she’s a friend of yours and it’s all in fun. Anyone would struggle being choked by that collar. That’s the exciting part.”
She wouldn’t struggle if they mixed the roofie with more alcohol. She’d be completely out of it.
Tiffany curved her nails into her palms. Was that all it would take? Some drugs and a few hours? If Colin got what he wanted, would he be satisfied?
Temptation beckoned. She couldn’t tolerate his sudden crush on their former neighbor. Not only was Zoe pretty, she was a few years older and would probably be more of a challenge to Colin’s intellect, keep him interested longer.
Tiffany refused to go back to being undesired. Anything but that. Which meant she had to put an end to his infatuation permanently—or she’d have to wonder if her husband was dreaming about another woman. If he continued to pursue Zoe and it turned into a full-fledged affair, Tiffany stood to lose a lot more than if she gave him one night of sexual freedom. Colin knew how to charm people. Tiffany could easily imagine him buying Zoe flowers and jewelry and supporting her in her grief until he’d worked his way into her affections. Better to give him what he wanted now than to pay a higher price later.
“What do you say?” he coaxed, caressing her breasts. “Will you let me do it?”
Her resolve slipped even further. She loved it when he treated her with such tenderness. “How can we manage it?”
The faucet in the bathroom was turned off as he removed a foil-wrapped packet from his pocket. “Put this in her drink. She’ll never expect it coming from you.”
She stared at the little white pill inside the bubble. She’d seen Rohypnol before, had even taken it for Colin a time or two, because he’d been curious to see how long it took to work and what she’d remember afterward.
“If I do this, you have to kill her. I won’t have her living in my house.” At least then it would be over; Zoe would never be a threat again.
“You’re getting vicious,” he teased, pulling her earlobe into his mo
uth. “I guess it’s true what they say about jealousy.”
Tiffany imagined her former neighbor drying her hands, oblivious to what they had planned for her. “Is that a yes?”
“I’d rather not have to get rid of her so soon. She’d make a great pet.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “But…one pet’s enough, I suppose.”
“So you’ll do it?” she said. “Tonight’s the end?”
“If that’s what it’ll take to get you to agree.”
The door opened down the hall, and Tiffany’s heart jumped into overdrive. “Colin, wait. I don’t think I can go through with it.”
“Sure you can.” With a smile and an encouraging nod, he put the pill in her palm and closed her fingers around it. “She’s a snooty bitch. She deserves it.”
* * *
The high he’d achieved just before he left work was already wearing off. A single line never lasted long, only about an hour. Colin wanted to snort some more—he had a baggie of cocaine in his briefcase—but he forced himself to wait.
That’ll come later. It’s gonna be one hell of a night.
Now that he knew he’d get what he wanted, and soon, he could forget the frustration he’d felt before and focus on the charade, the image he and Tiffany needed to portray in order to make it all happen. We’re just a fine, upstanding young couple eager to help our neighbors and the community. See? He perfected his expression of concern. Look at me working hard to organize this search.
Tiffany was doing the dishes. He could sense her nervousness, caught her glancing at them through the doorway every once in a while. But he knew Zoe was too absorbed in what they were doing to notice. She sat next to him at the dining-room table, her head bent over the maps he’d spread out as they tried to determine how many homes, or how many square feet of land, would be manageable per volunteer.
“We need to cover as much ground as possible while we have them.” She frowned over the less densely populated area to the east. “But that gives this volunteer more than he or she could handle on foot.”
