The Voyeur Next Door (23 page)

It was a nice little house with an array of colorful blooms and shrubbery taking up the majority of the front yard. There was a thin, cobblestone path leading from the sidewalk to the front steps, but otherwise, it was like walking through some fairy garden. The homes around it seemed bland and lifeless in comparison. Even the gloomy promise of rain wasn’t enough to dull the beauty. I was almost tempted to just make a home on the walkway until fall when everything shriveled up and died. It seemed like a substantially better option than having to face what I was about to do.

I rang the doorbell before I could second guess my decision and waited with my purse clutched to my midsection as protection. It was also to soothe the writhing pit of snakes that had taken residence in my abdomen. The nipping winds picked at my clothes and cooled the sweat collecting along my spine. I shivered and tightened my grip on the purse.

It felt like an hour before the door was thrown open, but it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds. Gabriel’s hopeful expression melted into one of confusion when he spotted me. I guessed he must have been expecting Tamara.

“Hi,” I said, feeling ever so stupid. “I was in the neighborhood and I thought…” I blew out a breath. “Okay that’s not true. I was worried.”

He eyed me for several minutes in silence, like he was trying to read my mind, which I prayed to God he couldn’t. Then, to my surprise, he shifted aside.

“Come in.”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I had honestly expected him to turn me away. It took some coaxing to get my knees to bend and for my legs to move, albeit, a bit stiffly over the threshold. My shoulder brushed his chest and that whole side went inexplicably numb. I shook it off and pretended like I walked into people’s homes all the time. Truthfully, I couldn’t remember the last time I was ever in another person’s house. Tony’s parent’s maybe and the disastrous supper.

Not pure enough for their precious son. Please. Assholes. Granted, now that I think about it, maybe I was a sexual deviant. Who knew?

“Any news?” I asked, turning my body in the cramped little foyer to face the enormous man closing the door behind me.

He shook his head. “Mom’s calling some of Tammy’s friends now to see if they know anything.”

I nodded, because that was the logical thing to do when a teenager went missing: call the friends, unless the friend covered.

“Did something happen?” I asked. “To make her want to run away, I mean.”

“She didn’t run away,” he said. “She’s gone camping. Come on.”

I followed, because there was really nothing else to do.

The corridor bent at a sharp right angle that opened into a comfortably furnished sitting area. The room was cluttered with plants and family photos. A single sofa sat facing an empty fireplace, flagged by two end tables and a coffee table in front over an area rug covering the worn hardwood. An ancient TV sat on a rickety table tucked against one corner. I noted it wasn’t even plugged in and there were no game systems, or even a DVD player in sight.

Definitely not a family that watched TV, I thought.

I did another glance over the room, taking note of the photos. Each one was taken outside during some type of activity, or family outing. In each one, Tamara was sullen and miserable in her black attire and ever changing hair color. Gabriel was in a few, not as many though. Most contained a delicately built woman with auburn curls and luminous gray eyes standing in the embrace of a tall, rail thin man with appalling fashion sense; who even wore sweater vests anymore with khakis? Plus, the guy reminded me of a Muppet what with his abnormally wide, thin mouth and riot of unruly brown curls over an oblong head.

“Ali?”

I turned away from the picture I’d been studying to find Gabriel standing beneath a wide opening leading into a formal dining area. I started towards him, eyes moving over the space he’d grown up in, trying to find pieces of him in it.

But while there was plenty of Tamara hidden throughout the place, Gabriel didn’t seem to exist there. Maybe because he hadn’t lived with his mom in a long time, but aside from the occasional picture of him as a man, there were none of him as a boy.

“Why are there no earlier pictures of you?” I asked, tilting my head back to peer up into his face.

“Because my mom didn’t raise me,” he said evenly, but quietly, like he didn’t want the other occupants of the house to overhear us. “Earl did.”

I remembered him mentioning that when he’d hired me, but I hadn’t realized the extent of it.

“Come on,” he said when I could think of nothing else to say.

We walked through the dining area and into a brightly lit kitchen that reminded me of something straight out of the thirties with yellow wallpaper, cabinets, and vinyl flooring. The only thing not yellow was the appliances and countertops, which were white. So basically, it was like standing in the center of a lemon meringue pie. I wasn’t sure if I should be hungry, or disturbed. Instead, I focused on the trio sitting around a five piece table set—also yellow—and recognized all three. Two were from the pictures in the living room. The third…

“Ali!”

Earl shoved out of his chair, using the table to brace his weight as he hobbled around it towards me.

I smiled. “Hello!”

He limped towards me and took my arm. I was propelled forward.

“Lydia, this is Ali.” He patted my shoulder and left me standing there as he made his way back to his seat. “Ali, Lydia. Gabriel and Tammy’s mom.”

I smiled at her, praying it wasn’t as stiff and uncomfortable as I felt. “Hello.”

Lydia rose and I was amazed by how short she was. I wasn’t monstrously tall, but most fully grown adults came to my eyelevel. Lydia barely reached my shoulders. 

“Hello Ali, it’s nice to finally meet you, although, I do wish it had been under better circumstances.”

I took the tiny hand the woman offered and gave it a shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry to barge in like this. I was hoping I could help.”

Lydia nodded and released my hand. “This is my husband, Jonas.”

“Nice to meet you, Ali,” Jonas said in a very calm, rational tone.

I gave the man an inclination of my head and a slight smile before focusing on the rest of the room once more.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked, turning back to Lydia.

The woman sighed and threw up her hands before dropping into her seat once more. “What is there to do? She packed her things and left without a single note, because nothing I say is important. I’m only her mother after all. Why should anyone listen to me?”

“So she went camping?” I guessed, still not sure what was going on.

“That’s what she told us,” Gabriel answered, moving across the room to stand at my side.

“And I’m guessing she wasn’t allowed to?” I said.

“Nope.”

Gabriel motioned me to take the only remaining seat at the table. I declined with a slight shake of my head. I did my best thinking on my feet.

“Well, did she mention where she was going? A rough direction?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Only that she was going with friends and would be back Sunday.”

That didn’t give us a whole lot of clues to go by. But it also made me wonder why they all seemed so concerned if she only went with her friends. While I understood she was sixteen and she’d been told not to go, it was hardly a death sentence. She would be back in two days.

“Are they bad friends?” I wondered.

“Her friends are fine,” Lydia stated with a catch in her voice.

“She went with a group of boys,” Gabriel finished where his mother couldn’t. “We don’t know who.”

“Oh!” I said, finally catching on. “Yeah, that’s not good. Well…” I pulled in a breath and tried to think, but it was hard to do when I could feel Gabriel’s silvery eyes boring into me. I turned away and paced to the sink. “She’s sixteen. It’s all about boys and having fun.” I assumed. I had no personal experience in this. “And bragging!” The idea hit me fast and hard as I whirled around to face the others. “I think I might know how to find her.”

Moving back to the table, I yanked off my purse and rummaged through the pockets.

“Why does your purse have so many pockets?” Gabriel wondered, peering over my shoulder.

“Because.” Was all I told him as I hunted. “I know it’s here somewhere … Ha!”

I found Carl’s card at the very bottom of the largest pocket. I dug it and my phone out and started dialing, ignoring the vibrating tension hitting my back where Gabriel stood. I held the phone to my ear as it rang.

“Carl Doray.”

I took a deep breath and put as much cheer into my voice as possible when I answered, “Hi Carl, it’s Ali.”

“Ali! Hi! Did you change your mind about my offer?”

My chuckle was tense as I turned away from the several pairs of eyes drilling into me. “No, sorry. I was actually hoping you could help me with something.”

“Anything. What’s up?”

“You remember Tamara, right?”

“Gabriel’s sister? Yes. Is something wrong?”

I made a face at the fridge. “Well, she kind of left home to go camping with some friends without telling her parents and they’re worried.”

Carl hissed audibly in my ear.
“That’s rough, but I know the feeling. What can I do?”

“I’m hoping Alyssa might know where they went. You know kids, they’re always bragging about stuff like this.”

“Alyssa’s in school right now, but I can ask her when she gets home, if you like?”

“I would really appreciate that. Thank you, Carl.”

“Hey, no problem, and maybe we can go to dinner this weekend.”

“This weekend?”

“Yeah, if you’re free?”

“Uh, I would love to,” I began, edging quickly out of the room and away from Gabriel’s listening ears. “But I’m kind of seeing someone right now and…”

“Say no more. I get it. Thought I’d give it a shot. But I’m at work right now so I have to go. I’ll call you when I get Alyssa from school.”

“Thank you again, Carl. And I’m really sorry.”

He chuckled.
“Don’t be. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Thanking him again, I hung up and braced myself before moving back into the kitchen.

Four pairs of eyes pinned me in the doorway. I deliberately ignored Gabriel’s as I crossed back to the table.

“He’s going to call me back when he gets Alyssa from school,” I said, dropping my phone and Carl’s card back into my purse.

“Thank you, Ali,” Lydia said.

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

The room was quiet, and tense, but that could have maybe only been me. Being in a stranger’s house made me feel like an intruder. It made me wonder if I should make an excuse and leave.

“It’s raining,” Lydia stated unexpectedly, getting out of her chair to cross to the window over the sink where the rain was an angry force against the glass. “It’s coming down hard. I hope Tammy remembered to pack warm clothes.”

“She’ll be fine, Mom,” Gabriel assured her.

Lydia sighed and turned back to the rest of us. “Is anyone hungry?”

Not waiting for anyone to answer, she hurried to the fridge and began yanking items out. I glanced at Earl.

“Maybe I should—”

“You can’t leave,” Lydia said before I could finish. “You haven’t eaten.”

I opened my mouth to tell her I wasn’t hungry, but Gabriel beat me to it.

“And Carl Doray might call you with a location.”

“I insist,” Lydia chimed in when I started to suggest I just call him when Carl called me.

Shit.

She made tortilla chips and black bean dip. I’d never had black bean dip. Something about it looking like elephant poop kind of turned me off. But I stepped up, because everyone was watching and Lydia insisted—as a guest—I get first taste.

“It’s my specialty,” she stated proudly.

“It’s what won me over,” Jonas said, smiling fondly at his wife.

With no choice, I took a tortilla chip and dipped the corner into the thick, brown substance.

“That’s not how you do it!” Lydia scolded. “Gabe, show her.”

I felt Gabriel move. His heat shifted and moved into my space. The hard, lean build of him settled against my back as he reached past me for a chip, caging me between him and the table. His breath was a warm whisper along the skin of my neck. I shivered involuntarily. If he felt it, he made no comment as he scooped his chip into the dip.

“You have to really get it in deep,” he murmured into my ear.

My pussy clenched, sending tingles up my body to tighten my nipples against my satin bra. I fought not to notice how my left ass cheek was a mere breath away from brushing against the front of his jeans. I fought not to bump back against him.

Then he, and his glob of dip and chip were gone, leaving me disappointed and cold without his heat.

Damn him!

“So, Ali.” Lydia regained her seat. “Tell us about yourself.”

The plain chip I’d been nibbling on stilled against my bottom lip. “Sorry?”