house was too far out of town for cable, so they had a satellite dish. The little TV in my own room was hooked up to the same system, so I knew how to work it.
You could get a zillion shows.
I found a movie that started at eight. While I was watching it, night came so I had to get off the couch and shut the den curtains. I don’t like curtains being open at night. Somebody might be out in the dark, looking in. You can’t see him, but he can see you. It really gives me the creeps.
That particular night, I felt more edgy than usual. It was probably a case of first-night jitters. Or else a premonition.
I turned on a couple of lamps to make the den bright.
I’d planned to take a long bath by candlelight after the movie. When the time came, though, I changed my mind. I much preferred to stay in the bright den with the television on, its volume good and loud. I’d lost every desire to go wandering through the dark house or to sit all alone in the hot water, surrounded by silence and flickering candle flames and shadows.
With the change of plans, I wanted popcorn—at least until I thought about the long journey to the kitchen. There were windows all along the way—enormous windows and sliding glass doors and walls of glass—every one of them facing the pool area, the back lawn and the woods. If only I’d remembered to shut those curtains before dark!
With the curtains wide open, it would almost be the same as if the house didn’t have any rear wall, at all.
I had walked that particular gauntlet before.
That’s true. I’d often walked it at night when the curtains were wide open and I was all alone in the house. Sometimes, I hadn’t even gotten a case of the jitters. Usually, though, I found myself hurrying along, goosebumps from head to toe, afraid to even glance toward the windows, absolutely certain that someone horrible must be gazing in at me.
Tonight, I was already feeling too damn jumpy.
The popcorn wasn’t worth a trip that might scare me half out of my wits, so I went ahead and watched the next movie without any.
It ended a little after midnight.
Which was late. Normally, eleven o’clock would’ve been about the right time for letting myself out of the house and hurrying to my room above the garage.
As late as it already was, I didn’t feel the least bit sleepy. Maybe because I’d taken all those naps beside the pool.
So why not stay and watch one more movie?
Why not? Because if I watched another, I would have to make my trip to the garage at 1:30 or 2:00.
Way too late.
My swimsuit was still in the master bathroom. I decided to leave it there. Since I had nothing else to put on, I stayed in Charlie’s robe. I liked wearing it, anyway. It was very lightweight, and felt slippery and cool against my skin. Also, it made me feel funny, sometimes, knowing it was his. Funny in a good, familiar sort of way.
My purse was with me on the sofa, so I didn’t need to go searching for it. I didn’t have to wander around the rest of the house to make sure all the doors were locked, either. I’d taken care of that before the sun went down. I’d also made sure that every light was off except for those that were supposed to stay on all night: the one in the foyer and a couple out in front of the house.
Serena and Charlie never lit up the rear of the house—the deck or pool or yard—except when they were out there. (And sometimes not even then.) I never asked them why. If it was me, though, I would’ve kept them off because of the woods.
Who knows what they might attract? There were things in the woods that might see the lights and come over to investigate. Nasty, wild things that belonged in the deep woods, not in your back yard. Not in your house.
2
THE STRANGER
Midnight.
I wished I was already back inside my safe little place above the garage.
Before I could be there, though, I had to get there.
Getting there was the bad thing about staying in Serena and Charlie’s house. It was the price that had to be paid. Not a terrible price, really. I’d always been willing to pay it for the luxury of using their house.