Shocking Pink

I’d like to express my heartfelt thanks and appreciation to the following people for their help and support during the writing of this book.

Jessica Schneider and Erin Engelhardt for honestly sharing their thoughts, feelings, hopes and wishes; for reminding me what it’s like to be fifteen and best friends.

Linda Kay West (as always) for answering my many questions about the law and legal proceedings.

Dianne Moggy and the amazing MIRA® crew for helping me make this book all it could be.

Evan Marshall for his support, enthusiasm and incomparable instincts.

And special acknowledgement to Deanna Breheny, winner of my “Fantasy Proposal” contest. Deanna, you and Jim are the greatest!

About the Author

The author of twenty-five books, ERICA SPINDLER is best known for her spine-tingling thrillers. Her novels have been published all over the world, selling over six million copies, and critics have dubbed her stories “thrill-packed, page turners, white knuckle rides, and edge-of-your-seat whodunits.”

Erica is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. In 2002, her novel Bone Cold won the prestigious Daphne du Maurier Award for excellence.

Also by Erica Spindler

COPYCAT

SEE JANE DIE

IN SILENCE

DEAD RUN

ALL FALL DOWN

Shocking Pink

Erica Spindler

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Prologue

Thistledown, Missouri 1998

The call had come in at 3:01 a.m. An anonymous tip. Something weird was going on over at the Gatehouse development site, the caller had said. They had seen lights.

Something weird, all right. A homicide.

Detective Nick Raphael climbed out of his Jeep Cherokee, stopping a moment to take in the scene. Two black and whites, his partner Bobby’s truck and the coroner’s wagon. No press yet, thank God. An officer stood guard at the door of the model home, cordoned off with yellow tape.

Nick moved his gaze slowly over the face of the house, then the land around it, careful not to rush, not to take anything for granted. He had learned long ago that rushing equaled missed opportunities. He had learned that good police work required a quick mind, a slow eye and the patience of Job.

He rubbed his hand across his jaw, rough with his morning beard. Funny place for a murder. Or a brilliant one. Located twenty minutes east of Thistledown, in the middle of nowhere, the development was hardly even up and running. It had, no doubt, been created with the St. Louis executive in mind. Only a forty-minute commute to a better life, Nick thought, mouth twisting into a grim smile. In relatively crime-free Thistledown.

Right. And tonight’s little event wouldn’t do much for the neighborhood.

He brought his attention back to his immediate surroundings. So far, the development consisted of three model homes, this one complete and two others nearly finished. Pool and tennis court just under construction; lots parceled off. No residents yet. Completely deserted.

Not completely deserted, Nick thought. Not tonight. The anonymous tip proved that. So did the stiff.

Nick started for the front door, squinting against the light spilling from the house into the darkness. He greeted the officer at the door, the man’s rookie status apparent by his pallor.

“Davis, right?” Nick asked.

The kid nodded.

“What’ve we got?”

Davis cleared his throat, his color turning downright pasty. “Female. Caucasian. Twenty-eight to thirty-two. The M.E.’s checking her out now.”

Nick swept his gaze over the face of the house again. Nice house. He’d bet it’d go for a half a million or more. He motioned with his head. “Everybody inside?”

The kid nodded again. “Straight ahead, then left. The living room.”

Nick thanked him and went inside, noting the alarmsystem panel as he did. Fancy, all the bells and whistles. It was on but not armed.

He heard voices and followed the sound, stopping dead when he saw her. She hung by her neck, naked, her hands bound in front of her by a black silk scarf. An identical scarf had been used to blindfold her. A tall stool lay on its side under her dangling feet, a short one sat beside it, undisturbed.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, the past coming up behind him and biting him in the ass. “Holy fucking shit.”

“Raphael. Glad you could make it.”

Nick shifted his gaze to his partner. “I had Mara. It took her baby-sitter a few minutes to get to the house.” He moved his gaze back to the victim, his sense of déjà vu so strong it disoriented him. Nick forced himself to focus on this crime, this victim. He narrowed his eyes, studying her. She was—had been—a looker. Blond. Stacked. Even in death her breasts stood up high and firm. The blindfold covered too much of her face to be certain, but he’d bet the face had gone with the body. It just seemed to go that way with stiffs, though he couldn’t say why.

The coroner stood on a chair, carefully examining the corpse. He stopped working and met Nick’s eyes. “Hello, Detective.”

“Doc.” Like Nick, the M.E. had been around a long time. Long enough to remember. “Talk to me,” Nick said.

“Not a suicide,” the doctor said quietly. “Not an accident. Her hands are bound. Kind of hard to string yourself up that way. She definitely had a playmate.”

Nick moved closer. “Do we recognize somebody’s work here?”

“We might,” the coroner said, returning to his examination. “Or it could be a copycat. No outward signs of a struggle. I think we’re talking consensual, up to the very end anyway.”

“Right,” Nick muttered. “Up to the moment the bastard kicked the stool out from under her.”

“Whoa.” One of the uniforms came up beside them. “What’s this ‘recognize’ bullshit? Have you guys seen something like this before?”

“You could say that.” Nick moved closer to the body. “Something just like this. Fifteen years ago. Right here in Thistledown. Unsolved.”

As Nick said the words he thought of Andie and her friends, their involvement in that crime. He remembered how they had been all those years ago, young and naive and frightened. But so full of life. And he thought of himself, of how he had been the same way.

Much had changed in fifteen years. He’d changed, in ways he never could have imagined.

“Can you ID her, Nick?”

Using tweezers, the coroner ever so carefully removed the blindfold, dropped it into an evidence bag, then tapped the body. It swung slightly in Nick’s direction.

Once again the past stared him square in the face, this time through lifeless blue eyes. Nick sucked in a sharp breath.

Not her. Dear Jesus, it couldn’t be.

But it was.

He thought of Andie again. And of the events of fifteen years before. A knot, an emotion, settled in the pit of his gut, one he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Fear. Icy-cold and putrid. Like death.

Aware of the other two men looking at him, waiting for an answer, Nick struggled to find his voice. “Yeah,” he managed to say finally, “I know who she is.”

Book One

Best Friends - Summer of 1983

1

Thistledown, Missouri 1983

The inside of the car was hot, steamy with the heat radiating from the two teenagers making out in the back seat. The Camaro rocked slightly with their enthusiastic movements. The sound of mouths and tongues meeting and sucking, of sighs and groans and murmured pleasure, filled the interior and spilled out into the June night.

Julie Cooper believed she had died and gone to heaven. She had run into Ryan Tolber, a senior she’d had a crush on the entire year before, on her way to the bowling alley’s ladies’ room. One thing had led to another, and when he’d suggested she come out to his car with him, she hadn’t been able to say no.

Saying no was a big problem for Julie. Or at least that’s what her best friends, Andie Bennett and Raven Johnson, told her.

As far as Julie was concerned, saying yes was tons more fun than saying no. And, of course, that was the problem.

“Come on, Julie baby. I’m gonna die if we don’t.”

“Oh, Ryan … I want to, but—”

He cut off her words with his mouth. He kissed her deeply, spearing his tongue into her mouth, pressing her back against the seat. She thought fleetingly of Andie and Raven, inside the bowling alley and no doubt looking for her by now. Andie would be worried sick; Raven would be mad as hell. Julie knew she should go back into the bowling alley and tell them where she was.

All thoughts of her friends evaporated as Ryan brought his hands to her breasts and began kneading them. “No buts, baby. I want you so bad. I need you.”

Growing dizzy with his words and the sensations rocketing through her, she arched toward him. “I need you, too, Ryan.”

He slipped his hands under her shirt and cupped and stroked her through her bra. “All last year I liked you. I thought you were the cutest freshman girl of all.”

“Me? The cutest?” She gazed into his warm brown eyes, pleased at the compliment, feeling about to burst with happiness. “I liked you, too. Why didn’t you ask me out?”

“You were a freshman. That made you off-limits, babe.”

She nuzzled against his neck. “But I’m a sophomore now.”

“Exactly. And now that you’re older, you know what a boy needs.” He worked her shirt over her head, then unfastened her bra. Her breasts spilled out into his hands. “Oh, baby,” he muttered, his voice suddenly thick. “You have great tits. The best.” He pulled a nipple into his mouth while he squeezed and rubbed them. “Say yes, baby.”

Julie’s head fell back. She wanted to, she really did. It felt so good. Much better than … than anything. She shuddered and curled her fingers into his hair. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to him if she said no now. After all, it was a proven fact boys needed sex more than girls. Starting this way and not finishing, well … it hurt them. She’d even heard that if it happened too often, their penises would go numb and eventually fall off.

And all because she wouldn’t go through with what she had started.

That would be awful. She would hate for that to happen to Ryan. Or any guy.

“You’re so beautiful, babe. So sexy. I love you. I really do.”

She drew away from him so she could gaze into his dark eyes. “You do?” she whispered. “You love me?”

“Sure, baby. I do. I love you so much. I can’t bear not to touch you. Let me in, Julie Cooper.” He moved a hand to the waistband of her shorts, unfastened the snap and slipped his hand inside. “Let me in.”

As his fingers brushed against her sex, she grabbed his shoulders, a low moan escaping her. She lifted her hips slightly so he could get his hand deeper between her legs, even as a part of her recoiled at her own behavior.

You’re the devil’s own, Julie Cooper. A Jezebel and a sinner.

Her father’s voice, his words, ones she had heard hundreds of times before, popped into her head. Cold washed over her, and she squeezed her eyes tight shut, trying to force her father out of her head.

Ryan loved her. That made it okay. It did.

She locked her thighs around his hand, her eyelids fluttering shut, tingling sensations rocketing through her. It felt so good. So incredibly good. Anything that felt so good couldn’t be wrong, no matter what her father said.

“Julie!” Someone rapped against the fogged window. “Is that you in there?”

“Get your ass out here!” another voice called. “If you miss your curfew—”

“Your dad’s going to kill you!”

Julie’s eyes snapped open. Andie. And Raven. They’d found her.

Dear God … her curfew.

She struggled to free herself, but Ryan locked his free arm around her waist, pinning her on his lap, his hand still between her legs. “Get lost,” he called. “We’re busy.”

“Julie!” Andie shouted, pounding on the window again.

“Are you nuts? Do you want to be grounded for the entire summer?”

Julie froze. Even one minute past her nine o’clock curfew would be met with severe punishment. An image of what her summer would be like passed before her eyes. No friends. No movies or parties or swimming. Hours spent on her knees studying the Scriptures and praying for forgiveness.

Her father at the pulpit, delivering his sermon, pointing at her, singling her out, calling her what she was.

Sinner.

She made a sound of terror. Her dad would do it, too. All of it. Without hesitation.

And if he had even one hint of what she had been up to, he would do worse, the way he always threatened. Send her away. Separate her from Andie and Raven. Send her to a place where she would have no one. She couldn’t bear to be alone like that again, the way she had been before Andie and Raven had become her friends.

Julie wiggled free of Ryan’s grasp. “I’m coming,” she called, scrambling around for her bra and shirt, yanking them on, then refastening her shorts. She found her hair band and pulled her long, wavy blond hair back into a high ponytail, combing it with her fingers. She dipped her fingers into her shorts’ pocket for her glasses, dark-rimmed, ugly things she hated and wore as little as possible. She had begged her father for contacts. He had refused, admonishing her sternly about vanity being the work of the devil, then had removed every mirror in the house save for the one in his and her mother’s bathroom, which he kept locked at all times.

Glasses clutched in her hand, she looked apologetically at Ryan. “Sorry. I had a great time.”

He cupped her face in his palms, his expression boyish and pleading. “Then don’t go. Stay with me, babe.”

Her heart turned over. He loved her. He really did. How could she leave when he—

The door flew open; light from the parking lot flooded the car’s interior. Andie stuck her head into the car. “Julie, come on! It’s twenty to nine.”

“Twenty to nine,” Julie repeated, a shudder of fear racing up her spine.

Ryan caught her hand. “Fuck your old man, babe. Stay with me.”

Raven appeared at the doorway then, all but growling at him. “Her old man is not who you want her to fuck. Get lost, creep.”

Andie grabbed her one arm, Raven the other. They pulled Julie out of the car, slammed the door behind her and tugged her toward the shortcut back to Happy Hollow, the subdivision where all three girls lived.

As soon as they had gotten out of earshot of the car, Julie shoved on her glasses and whirled to face Raven, her cheeks hot with fury. “How could you say that to him? You called him a creep. You … you used that word. The F-word. He’ll never want to see me again.”

“Please.” Raven made a sound of derision. “He is a creep, Julie. And the F-word is just a word. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There, I said it four times and nobody’s dead or anything.”

“Do you always have to be so crude? It makes me sick.”

“Do you always have to be so easy? It makes me embarrassed for you.”

Julie took a step back, feeling as if the other girl had slapped her. “Thanks a lot. I thought you were my friend.”

“And I thought—”

Andie stepped between them. “Stop it, both of you! If we don’t get out of here now, Julie’s sunk. What’s the matter with you guys? We’re supposed to be friends.”

“I’m not going anywhere with her.” Julie folded her arms across her chest. “Not until she apologizes.”

“Why should I? It’s true.”

“It’s not! Ryan said he loves me. That changes everything.”

The words fell between them like a dead cat. Andie and Raven exchanged glances.

“What?” Julie asked, indignant. “Why are you two looking at each other like that?”

“Julie,” Andie said gently, “you hardly know him.”

“That doesn’t matter. With love, that doesn’t matter.” She looked from one to the other, knowing she sounded almost desperate. Sudden tears stung her eyes. “He said he loves me, and I know he meant it.”

“How?” Raven muttered. “By his hard dick?”

Julie sucked in a sharp breath, hurt. “You guys are supposed to be my friends. You’re supposed to stick up for me. You’re supposed to … to understand.”

“We are your friends.” Andie squeezed her arm. “And we do understand, Julie. But friends are also supposed to try to protect each other. Guys will … they’ll say anything to get what they want. You know that.”

“But, Ryan—”

“Look, Julie,” Raven cut in, her tone that of an impatient mother with her toddler, “get real. You ran into the guy at the bowling alley. He’s never even asked you out.”

“He said he liked me all last year. He didn’t ask me out because he was a senior and I was a freshman and—”

“And time for a reality check,” Raven cut in, rolling her eyes. “Did you, like, take classes in being stupid?”

“Thanks a lot,” Julie said, nudging her glasses up to the bridge of her nose with her index finger, her voice quivering with hurt. “I guess it’s hard for either of you to believe that a boy as cute and smart and … and as important as Ryan Tolber would like me, ridiculous little Julie Cooper.”

“That’s not it at all.” Andie shot a warning look at Raven. “And you should know that. We think you’re the best. We think you’re too good for him. Isn’t that right, Rave?”

“Way too good,” Raven answered. “He’s not even in the same league with you.”

“Really?” Julie blinked back tears even as she glared at Raven. “Then why are you always so ugly to me? You act like you’re so much smarter than I am. Like you know so much more about everything. It makes me feel bad.”

“I’m sorry, Julie. It’s just that sometimes you act like all you care about is boys and making out. You know, if you keep this up, people are going to call you a slut. Some already do. And it really makes me mad.”

“A slut,” Julie whispered, her world rocking. “People are … they’re calling me a—” She looked at Andie in question, hardly able to see through her tears. Andie would never deliberately hurt her, but she wouldn’t lie, either. Andie never lied. “Are people … are they really … calling me that?”

Andie hesitated, then put an arm around her. “We’re just trying to protect you, Julie. Because we love you.”

Raven joined the other two. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I just get so pissed off when I see you setting yourself up to be hurt that way. You’re too good for guys like Ryan Tolber. He’s a user.”

“I’m sorry,” Julie whispered, turning and hugging Raven. “I know you’re only trying to help me. But you’re wrong about Ryan. You both are. You’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right,” Raven said, hugging her back. “I really do.”

“Guys,” Andie murmured, glancing at her watch, “it’s almost nine now. Any ideas how we’re going to get Julie home by her curfew?”

Julie looked at her friends, the full impact of her situation sinking in. “My dad’s going to kill me,” she whispered. She brought a hand to her mouth. “He’s going to … he’ll—”

She started to run. Her friends ran after her, but she didn’t pause or glance back, just continued to put one foot before the other. She pictured her father, standing at the kitchen door, watch in hand. She could almost hear his lecture, his litany of criticisms and accusations. His disappointment.

The clock on Thistledown’s town square began to chime, ringing out her defeat. She wasn’t going to make it. It was too late.

Julie stopped, panting, swamped by tears. “Why am I even bothering?” She dropped to her knees, despair overwhelming her. “I’ve done it again. Screwed up again. What’s the matter with me?”

“Nothing’s the matter with you.” Andie sank to the ground beside her and patted her arm. “Come on, don’t give up. We still have a chance.”

“No, we don’t. Listen to the clock.” It chimed the ninth and final ring, the last of it vibrating a moment on the night air before leaving silence behind. “I’m dead.” She covered her face with her hands. “He’s right about me. I’m no good at all. An embarrassment. A stupid, vain—”

“Don’t you say that!” Raven shouted and started to run. “He’s not right. He’s not!”

Confused, Julie leaped to her feet. “Raven, what are you … We can’t make it!”

Andie followed her up. They exchanged glances, then ran after their friend. “Raven,” they called in unison, “wait for us, we—”

Even as the words were leaving their lips, Raven fell, landing on her knees, catching herself with her hands, skidding on the road’s gravel shoulder.

With a cry, the other two raced to her side.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re bleeding!”

Raven ignored them and eased into a sitting position. She gazed at her badly skinned knees and hands. “Not good enough,” she muttered, turning her gaze to the rocky ground. She selected a jagged-edged rock about the size of a lime.

Even as Julie opened her mouth to ask her friend what she was doing, Raven drew her hand back and brought the rock crashing down on her leg. She barely flinched as the rock gouged a bloody path from her knee to her midcalf.

“There,” Raven said, her voice quivering. “That should do it.”

“Oh my gosh.” Julie brought a shaking hand to her mouth, gazing at the growing puddle of blood on the ground by her friend’s foot. “Raven, what … Why did you do that?”

Raven lifted her gaze. “I’m not about to stand back and let you take another round of your old man’s shit. I’ve been watching you take it since you were eight years old, and enough’s enough. This should take the heat off you.” She smiled, her lips trembling. “Your dad can hardly blame you for my accident. Why, despite fear of his reprisal, you did the Christian thing and stayed to help me. Give me a hand, will you?”

Julie grasped one hand, Andie the other. They helped Raven to her feet. She winced as she put her weight on her leg for the first time. “Man, that hurts.”

“Come on,” Andie murmured. “We need to get that cut cleaned. It looks pretty deep.” She bent and peered at Raven’s leg. She wrinkled her nose. “It might even need stitches.”

Stitches. Julie felt light-headed. Raven had done this for her. Hurt herself to help her.

“Do you think?” Raven studied the gash, her face pale. She swayed a bit and grabbed Julie’s arm. “Now my leg will match my face,” she murmured, referring to the long scar that curved down her right cheek, the result of a car accident when she was six. “Once a freak always a freak.”

“You’re not a freak!” Julie glanced at Andie, then back at Raven. “You have the hair and eyes of an angel, and you—”

“Have the face of a monster.” Raven laughed grimly. “You think I haven’t heard the guys call me Bride of Frankenstein behind my back?”

“They’re just immature jerks,” Andie said quickly. “Don’t pay any attention to them.”

“Spoken like someone who nobody’s ever stared at or whispered about. You don’t know what it’s like to be different.”

“You’d rather look like me?” Andie asked, holding her arms out. “There’s nothing special about me. Dishwater-blond hair, brown eyes. I don’t even have boobs yet and I’m fifteen.”