with its collection of ill-matched furniture. She headed toward the door, dodging a table and a chair.
Bouck owned the whole building. They lived on the second and third floors. The shop was on the first floor, the workshop in the basement. Camille had been buying antique furniture for Bouck. He said she knew more about antiques than anybody.
She liked to buy good pieces and then cram them in so that they formed an obstacle course, hard to get through. She liked how Bouck let her do whatever she wanted. She hadn’t finished the place. It was still in the colors of green Bouck had it painted years earlier. She couldn’t have the walls glazed the way she liked them because she couldn’t stand men working in the apartment. The kitchen was still primitive, always would be. She never went in there.
The bell rang again. It was a harsh, grating sound, not like a bell at all. Camille didn’t know why Milicia kept buzzing. All it did was make Puppy dash down the stairs and paw at the door, barking wildly.
“Shh, Puppy,” Camille cajoled. She got to the door and rested her head against it, forgetting for a moment why she was there.
“Camille.” Milicia’s voice came at her through the door. “Open up. It’s me.”
Slowly Camille’s breath began to even out. She opened the door. Milicia rushed in before she could close it again.
“Are you all right? What took you so long? I got scared.” Milicia’s red skirt and blouse clashed with her hair. Her makeup looked to Camille as if it had been spread on her face with a trowel. She reached out, but Camille backed away. The dog was at Milicia’s feet, jumping all over her and nipping at her ankles.
“Hi, cutie.” Milicia hunkered down to pet her.
“Don’t—” Camille screamed. “Don’t touch my baby.”
Milicia stood up, frowning. “You kept me waiting out there for twenty minutes. You scare me to death, Camille. I almost never get to see you. I worry about you all the time, living with that”—she dropped her voice to a whisper—”madman. I call you. No one answers the phone. When he answers the phone, I know he doesn’t tell you I called.” She paused. “I didn’t touch your damn dog.”
Her face changed again when she registered what Camille was wearing. Camille’s see-through dress hung open all the way down, revealing the black lace bra and panties, the black garter belt and white stockings. No shoes on her feet.
“Oh, God, Camille, what are you into now?” Milicia looked around. “Where is he?”
Camille shook her head. She was feeling tired. Milicia’s voice came from a long way away.
“Where is he?”
Camille shrugged. Who was she talking about?
“Oh, baby—it’s so dark in here.” Milicia reached for the light. “Can I turn on the light?”
Camille shrugged again. Milicia hit the light switch with her palm. The chandelier in the center of the ceiling blazed into a fireworks of glittering light. Camille flinched.
“What’s the matter?” Milicia moved toward her, making a gesture toward the dress. “Let me button you up.”
Camille shook her head. “No.” She and her sister were almost the same size, but Milicia still seemed huge to her. She’d start screaming if Milicia touched her.
“Camille.” Milicia studied her. “What did you take?”
Camille shook her head back and forth. Forth and back.
“I want to help you.”
Back and forth, forth and back.
“What’s going on? Can you speak?” Milicia moved another step forward. “This is not the place for you. You’re getting worse, can’t you tell? Can’t you feel it?”
Camille picked up her puppy and held it tight. Milicia wouldn’t take this puppy from her. No way.
“Don’t touch my puppy,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to touch your puppy. Camille, you can’t go on like this. You have to get some help. Don’t you want to get better?”
Camille saw the words come marching out of Milicia’s mouth like little soldiers on a parade ground. Milicia was looking around nervously as she spoke. Looking for Bouck, who said he’d kill her. Camille let out a little giggle. Bouck was in the chair upstairs. He could come down if he wanted to.
They stood by the door on the edge of the living room. Camille giggled again. For the first time in her life she lived in a place where Milicia was afraid to come in.
“I met someone who can help you get better. Camille, can you hear me?”
Camille shook her head. Couldn’t hear a thing. She saw Milicia’s big red mouth moving, saw the words marching out, wanted to stop them once and for all.
“Will you come with me and meet this man? He knows how to help people like you. Please, Camille. I have a bad feeling. I have this really bad feeling something’s going to happen that can’t be fixed. You don’t want anything to happen, do you?”
Camille looked at Milicia and backed away. “What?”
“What? What?”
“What?”
“You mean, what’s going to happen—I don’t know, Camille. Only you can know,” Milicia said wildly.
Camille saw the tears in Milicia’s eyes, shook her head, holding the puppy tight. Don’t touch.
The stairs creaked. Milicia started. “Oh, God, this place is so creepy. I don’t know how you can stand it.”
Camille had flinched, too.
“I know you’ve taken something. I can see it in your eyes. He gives it to you, doesn’t he? You’re scared of him, aren’t you? You can’t help it. I know it’s not your fault, Camille. Whatever is happening with you, I know it’s not your fault.”
Camille stopped seeing the words come out of Milicia’s big red mouth. Her eyes felt very heavy. She was holding Puppy, leaning against the back of a chair. Stiffly, she moved around to the other side of it and crumpled into the chair, closing her eyes. Puppy stretched out across Camille’s lap and put her head down.
16
The phone rang. It was seven in the morning. A thick fog blanketed the street and Jason’s head. It always took him a half hour to wake up, and he wasn’t there yet. His second cup of coffee sat on the counter in front of him, black as ink. He had forgotten to buy milk for the third straight day.
He yawned and picked up on the second ring. “Dr. Frank.”
“Hi, it’s Charles. Sorry I didn’t get back to you last night. I was out late. What’s up?”
Jason snapped into focus. “Just wanted to thank you for Sunday. Great day. Congratulations on the house, it’s really something.”
“Glad you like it. We hope you’ll come out often. You know Brenda thinks the world of you.”
“I think the world of her, too. Listen, ah, about your architect, Milicia.”
Charles laughed. “So that’s what’s up, you old rogue. I should have known.”
“Just wanted to know what your take on her is,” Jason said.
“Since when do you need that?”
“She’s building a house for you, Charles. You’ve been working closely with her for some time.…”
“Over a year.”
Could have fooled me, Jason thought. He hadn’t heard a word about it until the house was half up.
“So?” Jason prompted.
“So she’s a beautiful and talented girl. Go for it, you old dog.”
“That’s what you always say.” The last thing Jason was was a dog, but he didn’t want to explore the subject with Charles. “Aside from looks and talent, what do you think of her?”
“I don’t really know her that well.” Charles paused. “She’s certainly powerful. Gets what she wants … There
