Secrets Best Hidden

It was the first Thursday in June. Despite early showers in the morning, the billowy white clouds lingered in the pale blue skies and showed no signs of rain for the evening. Sunlight filtered through the trees and tiny speckles of light covered the terrace like fairies dancing.

Lorraine Delvar instructed Mark Godshall, her caterer, where to place the Thai appetizers outside on her terrace. The bar was well-stocked. Everything was ready for the Girls’ Night Out.

She checked her cell phone but there was no word from Mo. Lorraine texted her yet again and called Mo’s cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

A deafening tapping sound emerged from her driveway. Patty Gallagher entered the terrace through the side gate. With a petite five-foot two-inch figure and carrying an extra forty pounds, Patty was shaped like a beach ball from her breasts to her belly. “My damn car’s acting up again,” she said and headed straight to the appetizers. “Where’s Mo? She’s always here first.”

“Have you heard from her?”

“No. I talked to her yesterday. She was going to bake something this afternoon and said she’d be here around five.” Patty glanced at her watch. “It’s six thirty.”

Lorraine wrung her hands together. “Stace should be here soon. Maybe she’s heard from Mo.” Even though all of them were going through issues right now, she was most worried about Monique. For the last two months Mo had received cards from a stalker professing his love for her. The police searched for fingerprints on the cards and envelopes but there was none.

Patty brought her plate of food to the inlaid tile table.

Her red, puffy eyes and shaky voice were tell-tale signs that Lorraine knew all too well. “Another fight with Stan?” She sat next to Patty.

Patty nodded. Her beige short-sleeve shirt rode up and no longer covered her bulging belly. “I’ve gained more weight. I must’ve tried on six or seven outfits before finding one that fit.” Patty’s eyes watered. She turned away from Lorraine and wiped tears from her cheek. “Stay there. I’ll handle our drinks.”

Lorraine studied Patty as she headed into the kitchen. Name a diet and she’d tried it, but it never lasted more than a week or two.

Patty returned and handed Loraine a glass of wine. “It’s so late. I guess we’re not playing Bunco tonight.”

“No.” Lorraine pushed her wine glass away. Her stomach churned like turbulent ocean waves before a storm. “I hope Stace gets here soon.” As Patty rambled on about her crumbling marriage Lorraine constantly checked her cell phone.

###

Stace Kellerman parked her twelve-year-old black Subaru Forester behind Patty’s beat-up silver Honda Civic. Stace could only imagine the hassle Patty endured from her jerk of a husband, Stan, to go out this evening. Poor Patty. She was miserable, stuck in a bad marriage, and didn’t have the balls to leave him.

She finished her cigarette and sat for a few moments to admire Lorraine’s stately three-story beige stone mansion located on the prestigious Main Line section outside of Philadelphia.

Stace ran her hands through her tousled bleached blond hair and fussed with the rearview mirror. There was a comb somewhere in her pocketbook, but she couldn’t find it.

With a face that had seen too many cigarettes and sunny days at the beach, Stace wished she’d slathered herself with sunscreen instead of baby oil which was the trend back then. At forty-three, Stace sadly knew she looked at least ten years older.

Her tall, wiry frame exited the SUV. Clad in a bright, flowery sundress and Birkenstock sandals, Stace walked down the stone path toward the gate. She braced herself for hearing about how late she was. Her company had fired two accountants and never replaced them. No matter how hard she tried, Stace couldn’t get caught up.

Patty spotted Stace first. “I’ll make your drink.” She paused. “You look like crap.”

Stace grimaced. Leave it to Patty to call it like she saw it. Plus, she made a horrible vodka and orange juice. “No. Stay where you are and relax. I’ll make it myself.” Stace leaned forward and hugged Patty. “Sorry I had to cancel our dinner last weekend. Work’s been crazy.”

When she hugged Lorraine, Stace noticed how pale she looked. “Feeling alright?”

“I’m worried. Have you heard from Mo?”

“No. I thought she’d be here by now,” Stace said and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her purse. “Where is Kelsey and Mo?” She lit her cigarette.

“Kelsey texted me that she couldn’t make it. She’s sick.” Patty paused. “But no word from Mo.”

They glanced at each other with concern.

“I’ve called and texted her but haven’t heard back,” Lorraine said. “I hope she’s alright. Especially with that psycho sending her so many creepy cards.”

“She got another one?” Stace asked.

“Yesterday,” Lorraine said. “This one had a picture of roses on the front and inside a hand-written note saying that ‘they belonged together.’ Mo texted me last night. Said she was making our desserts today and would be here around five.”

“It’s seven o’clock. Maybe we should call the police,” Patty said.

“And tell them what? That our friend isn’t here yet?” Stace inhaled deeply on her cigarette and exhaled.

“Mo’s the most punctual of all of us,” Lorraine said. “And she’s never been this late before.”

CHAPTER TWO

Stace stubbed out her cigarette. “You’re right. It’s been too long without any word. I’m driving to Mo’s house.”

“I’ll come, too,” Patty said.

Stace hurried across the terrace and unlocked the gate. “Lorraine, we’ll keep you posted.”

Patty followed behind.

“If she gets here, I’ll let you know right away,” Lorraine called out.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as ash-colored clouds moved swiftly and blocked the sun.

Patty struggled to climb into the passenger’s seat of the SUV. She’d barely shut her door before Stace began backing out of the driveway.

“Hold on. My seat belt’s not fastened.”

“Better do it quick. As Bette Davis once said, ‘Fasten your seatbelts; it’s going to be a bumpy night.’”

Several large raindrops splattered onto the windshield. Within seconds, a torrential downpour started. Stace turned on her lights and windshield wipers. Set at maximum speed, they made a screeching sound with each pass. She slowed downed and leaned forward, straining to see the road.

“Looks like your wipers are shot,” Patty said. “That noise is annoying.”

Stace clenched her jaw and ignored her friend’s comment. Fog steamed up their windows and the windshield. “My defroster’s on the fritz. There’s a rag in the glove compartment to wipe it.”

Patty sighed and retrieved the rag. Stace took it and wiped her side of the windshield and then handed it back to Patty.

The rain hadn’t let up on the drive.

Patty remained silent as they continued to pass the damp rag back and forth.

Fifteen minutes later, Stace turned her SUV into the entrance of Mo’s condominium complex and stopped at the covered gate house. Monique had listed all the girls as family members. Now registered, Monique didn’t need to call them in each time they visited.

Stace rolled down her window and handed the security guard her license. “We’re here to see Monique Granger.”

The guard logged in the information and gave back her license. As the security gate opened, he said, “Not sure where you’ll park. There’s been an incident at her place.”

Patty gasped.

“Incident? What incident?” Stace said and gripped her steering wheel.
“Just got here. All I know is that her security alarm went off. And—”

Before he could finish, Stace slammed her foot onto the gas pedal. “I hope Mo’s OK.”

“Me. too.”

Stace’s window stuck halfway up. Rain poured in and soaked her door and clothes. She cursed under her breath.

Monique’s condo was one of the first ones built two years ago and sat in a cul-de-sac that backed up to a wooded area. As they neared, a police car and an ambulance, with their lights flashing, were parked in front of Monique’s condo.

“This doesn’t look good,” Stace said and haphazardly parked in front of the condo next to Monique’s. She sprang out of her vehicle and ran. Rain pelted her face as if it were pins poking a pin cushion. When she reached the door, a police woman wearing bright yellow rain gear held out her hand.

“Whoa. Stop right here. You can’t just run into the house.”

“My friend, Monique Granger,” Stace bent over to catch her breath, “Is she OK? Is she safe?”

“Calm down. I’m Officer Kelly. And you are?”

“Stace Kellerman. Please, please tell me if Monique is—”

“She’s shaken up but is doing better.”

“Good.” Stace’s heart pounded inside her chest like a piston in an engine. Still breathing heavily, she asked, “Can I see her?”

“I need your ID first.”

“I left it in my SUV.” Water dripped down from Stace’s hair onto her face and neck. She wiped it away. “Please let me in.”

Officer Kelly shook her head. “No ID, no entrance.”

Patty, holding Stace’s oversize golf umbrella, hurried up the driveway. The porch overhang was too small for three people. She stood behind Stace in the rain. “Is Mo doing alright?”

Detective Kelly nodded. “You’re another friend?”

“Yes. Patty Gallagher.”

“I need your ID.”

Patty handed Stace her pocketbook. “I figured you’d want it.”

Stace smiled. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

Both showed their ID’s.

Another police officer dressed in rain gear walked across the driveway. “No sign of anyone. Probably took off into the woods.” He strode toward Detective Kelly.

“This is Officer Crane,” she said to them. “He was first on the scene.” She handed him their ID’s. “Find out if Miss Granger wants to see them.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He entered the house.

Stace shivered and crossed her arms in front of her chest. For the time this was taking she should’ve waited for Patty and used the damn umbrella.

The door opened. “They can come in,” Crane said and handed back their ID’s.

They hurried past him.

Monique, covered with a blanket, sat on a chair a few feet away from her dining room table. One of the paramedics checked her blood pressure. “Stace, Patty. I’m so glad you’re here.” She reached out and held onto their hand. “It’s been a rough day.”

Stace hoped her shock didn’t show on her face. Besides deep circles under her eyes, Mo’s natural red hair was pulled back into a ponytail that emphasized her gaunt face. She’d lost more weight since Stace had seen her two weeks ago. But it was Mo’s lack of color in her face, like a vampire in search of blood, that worried her the most.

The paramedic took off the blood pressure sleeve and shined a penlight into each of her eyes.

“What happened?” Stace asked.

“Someone was…was…outside my dining room window watching me until I set off my alarm.”

CHAPTER THREE

“I finished baking the desserts for our Girls’ Night Out when I thought I heard tapping on my window,” Monique said in a shaky voice. “I looked out but didn’t see anything. The tapping started again and wouldn’t stop.” She pulled the blanket tighter around her. “When I looked out this time, a man wearing a black hoodie, sunglasses, and gloves stood up. He must’ve crouched down below the window so I couldn’t see him before.”

“Oh no,” Patty said. “That would’ve freaked me out.”

“It did. I tried to scream but my throat froze. All that came out was a croaking sound.” Monique took a shallow breath. “He bowed, blew me a kiss, and ran toward the back.” Her hand shook when she took a water bottle from the paramedic. It took all the energy she had to open it and take a few sips.

Patty removed her cell phone from her purse. “I’ll call Lorraine,” and walked to the living room. Returning to Monique’s side, she said, “Lorraine wants you to stay with her tonight.”

Monique nodded.

After checking out Mo one more time, the paramedics packed up their gear and left.

“Patty, why don’t you help Mo pack up her things?” Stace said. Once they were upstairs, she turned to Detective Kelly who stood near the dining room table along with Officer Crane. “Before they come back, what else happened? I know Mo well enough to know she’s not telling us everything.”

“When we got here there was an envelope taped to the front door,” said Officer Crane.

Stace rubbed the back of her neck. “Another card?"

“Yes. This one said, ‘Soon you will be mine’.” Officer Harris paused. “On the left-hand side of the card there was a heart drawn in a gray color—the color of blood when it ages.”

Stace’s eyes widened. “What a sicko. Do you think it’s his blood?”

Officer Kelly shook her head. “No. He’s been careful not to leave any prints. It’s likely animal blood.”

Stace flinched. “That’s downright creepy.” She paused. “What are you doing to protect her?”

“We’ll patrol her condo complex more,” Officer Crane replied.

“That’s it?” replied Stace in a scathing tone. “That’s all you can do?” She pointed to the dining room table where cards were scattered. “Look how many she’s gotten—I’d say at least twenty-five in the past two months.”

Officer Kelly put her hands on her hips and glared at her. “We don’t have much to go on right now. The grass outside the window was matted down but if there were shoe prints, the rain wrecked them before we arrived.” She took a deep breath. “The cards are mailed from different places in Philly. We’ll check out the woods tomorrow to see how he got in. The only thing we do know is that he’s a Caucasian who’s around five foot eight. He’s escalating, getting bolder,

and—”

Before she could finish, Patty, carrying a suitcase, and Monique, with a computer bag hanging from her shoulder, walked down the steps. “We’re ready to go,” Patty said.

Monique’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“I enjoyed watching you today.” His voice, muffled and low, caused an uncontrollable shudder that swept through her entire body.

Mo turned on the cell phone speaker. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”