Robin played a quick and tidy run on the piano and then dropped her fingers onto a perfectly-timed chord, then ended the Chopin piece with a flourish. Turning slowly, she looked at DesirЋe, sitting at her left elbow. The older girl smiled.
"You'll soon be teaching me, Robin," DesirЋe said warmly.
The young brunette reached over and squeezed her friend's hand. "I don't think so Dez," she said with a laugh. "But do you really think I'm improving?"
"Since I saw you last, you've improved a lot," DesirЋe reassured her. "I bet you've been practicing hours every day."
"Quite a bit," Robin averred. She turned back to the piece. "This passage took a lot of work."
"Practice is what it takes."
Robin smiled, then hesitantly asked, "Do you think we're going to have time to go riding in the hills the way we did last summer?"
"I don't see why not." Then DesirЋe paused. "Though I've heard that it's not safe for a woman, out there in the hills."
"Why ever not?"
DesirЋe's face clouded over, as if she were trying to remember something, but what she was trying to remember, her own personal experience with Lobo, had been clouded in her mind, mercifully, by Dr. Hemmings.
"There's a wild dog, a pack of them, I've heard, that attack women." Her face clouded again. "Sexually. They've raped one girl that they know of."
Robin's mouth dropped open. "Raped? Really raped? I mean, literally?"
DesirЋe nodded. "That's what they say. I know it's horrible, and just the thought of it has given me the most vivid nightmares." DesirЋe's eyes seemed to be far away as she said, "I don't know how any woman could survive such an experience."
"That's terrifying," Robin said. "It sort of puts me out of the mood for horseback riding."
"You'll probably want to stay in all summer, or at least until the sheriff hunts the dogs down. And he's not doing too well, I hear."
Robin closed the music book and put it in her lap, folding her hands over it. "I was so surprised that you'd gotten married. I mean, when I left last summer, you didn't even have a boyfriend."
"I'd only just arrived from Chi town. Didn't know anyone but you and Liz."
"How is Liz?"
"Fine, I guess. But the leader of the dog pack was her pet, and she trained him to… to do what he did to Nancy Pace."
"Liz… trained him?"
"That's right. She told me herself." DesirЋe swallowed hard, trying to sort fact from fantasy in her mind. She recalled myriad dreams of herself involved in the same kind of ordeal Nancy Pace had suffered, choking fear and panic, the grasp of hairy forelegs around her tender body and the repulsive thrust of the animal organ, and then, nightmarishly, blinding pleasure, orgasms, and complete sexual satiation.
"It… it was horrible," she went on. "Finding out that my best friend was so perverted and animalistic. As much as I like her – and I've always liked her – I'm warning you, Robin, to stay away from Liz Clark."
Robin gave a nervous, little, tittering laugh. "You don't have to worry about me, Dez. I've never had the chance to be friendly with her, and now that you've warned me, I'll stay clear."
"Good girl," DesirЋe said, feeling like an old auntie, at the age of twenty-one. "Just stick to your piano, voice, and dancing, and you'll be just fine. I feel that there's more going on around Pickford's Meadows than meets the eye. Much more than last summer when you were here. Then, it was peaceful, simple, no problems, no wild dogs, no sticky politics. Now, everything is changing."
"What about boys?" Robin asked with some interest. "I mean, men?"
"Well, I wouldn't know much," DesirЋe said. "Now that I'm married, my eyes are closed, but as I remember, there wasn't much before that. This is kind of a retirement community. Young people go away to school and find careers elsewhere. I only came here because my father made me. A friend of mine that he didn't like. I was too young then to rebel, but now I'm with Mark and everything is wonderful." DesirЋe's brow knitted again in perplexity. Thoughts and images were crowding in on her mind, ideas that things were not well between her and Mark, but she could not sort them one from another. She knew she loved Mark and she was sure that he loved her, but now there were so many doubts flying through her mind.
Shaking her head to clear it, she said to Robin, "Let's have some hot chocolate or something."
Robin smiled and gave DesirЋe's hand a warm squeeze.
Priscilla Devereaux couldn't forgive Robin her visiting DesirЋe and studying piano with her. How could her peachy-cheeked little cousin betray her in this way? Had she no taste, no loyalty? Priscilla was furious that her carefully plotted orgy, where DesirЋe had been soundly and lastingly fucked by Clete Anderson, had borne no fruit. By subterfuge, Clete had obtained the pictures and video tape so that she had nothing concrete with which to pressure DesirЋe or bring about the public shaming she had planned to use to separate her from Mark Denning. Things were difficult now that the two were married and Mark would be adverse to a divorce for political reasons, since his career promised lately to assume much more grandiose proportions, so she couldn't push for that right now. A public exposure of his wife's perversions might not, as Clete had warned, bring about a desirable result.
But a little quiet blackmail might be just the thing. Force her into Clete's arms and distance her from Mark so that Priscilla herself could carry on an affair. She wouldn't ruin it this time, no, nor would she allow anyone else to do so. Once Mark was in the state government and bound for the Federal, her father could no longer belittle her relationship with the young politician. And, if he did, who could care? Mark was in line for a fortune of his own, if she knew anything about politics.
She knew that Mark could never stomach his wife having had sex with Clete, which would effectively alienate him from DesirЋe and clear the field for Priscilla. While the idea of a divorce would most probably be out, Mark would never touch the little blonde slut again, and would only put her away after he was firmly established in national politics. Meanwhile, Priscilla would act as an eminence grise in his public life, as well as his lover.
What Priscilla really could not understand was why DesirЋe had not called her back that afternoon after she had called with the threatening proposal. DesirЋe had effectively called her bluff, it appeared, as if she knew that the older girl had no evidence of her infidelity with the black sheriff.
Priscilla had no way of knowing that, even though DesirЋe had seen the video tape and had meant to call back, Dr. Hemmings had expunged the whole episode from her consciousness. Now, she would not call, and Priscilla would be left waiting until something brought the memory back to her, which was unlikely in fact. What the scheming older woman thought was uncommon bravery was merely hypnosis-induced amnesia.
When Mark picked up the ringing phone, the last voice he expected to hear was that of Nancy Pace, yet that voice was hers, and its dulcet tones woke sweet recollections of illicit passion not so long past.
"Hello, Mark," she said very quietly. "How are you?"
For a moment, he was at a loss for words. What they had shared that afternoon less than two weeks ago was still a pleasant memory when he tried to shake off his visions of what he had seen since then when Lobo had invaded his bedroom and mounted his beloved DesirЋe before his very eyes. And while he still loved DesirЋe, he found it yet impossible to forgive her abandoned response to that perverted act of bestiality while he watched. Nancy, another victim of a Lobo attack, somehow had the quality to make him forget the pain he felt. He felt a twitch below his belt and tried to find his voice.
"Hello, Nancy. I've been just fine." No one else could know it was a lie. "What can I do for you."
He heard her breathing unevenly on the other end. "Maybe something that I can do for you, or we can do for each other," she said in her childish voice.
The twitch was becoming massive. "But-but Nancy, you're engaged, I thought."
For a moment she said nothing and he thought he heard her sniffing on the other end. "It's-It's Clete. He's been acting funny. Since you raised the reward."
"Well, a bounty of that size is bound to make any hunter act funny. He can do his job, wipe out some vermin, and make himself a sizeable nest-egg for his wedding. Let's just hope he succeeds before anyone else is… attacked."
Nancy paused and Mark wondered if she was still on the line. "Can I see you? Sometime? I mean, I'd like to talk to you."
"Really, Nancy, I don't think we should. You're engaged to be married, and I'm…" He didn't finish the sentence. Right at the moment, he didn't feel married himself.
"Just for a while," Nancy insisted. "After what happened, I think we should talk it out. I feel so confused. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes, but – But, it isn't right, is it?" He had a healthy respect for Clete Anderson if nothing else when it came to getting involved with Nancy.
"Please. Just for a little while. I'm upset, confused. Please."
Mark thought for a long time. Why not? Nothing will happen, and besides, DesirЋe doesn't deserve total fidelity. "I can't today, Nancy. Nor tomorrow either."
"Then Thursday?"
"Yes, that's fine. Thursday."
"Thank you, Mark. Thank you so much."