From his collection of colored contact lenses, he selected the darkest pair he owned. They were almost black and had been very difficult to find, as most manufacturers didn’t make lenses this dark. But any color other than this deep chocolate shade would draw too much attention. While he wanted attention-he needed to be noticed tonight- he certainly didn’t want to be scrutinized.
Blinking the lenses into place, his face was complete. Now it was time for the rest of him.
He padded his midsection with soft foam that added ten pounds, securing the pads around his abdomen with thin Velcro straps. It softened his lean frame into the body of someone who wasn’t fat, but who probably didn’t hit the gym often enough to be considered fit.
A light application of skin stain darkened the backs of his hands and forearms, enough for the long sleeves he planned to wear.
Time to get dressed.
The outfit, like the mask, had been selected well in advance. Dark blue denim jeans and a fitted black dress shirt highlighted his new love handles perfectly. Because he was a stickler for details, he’d even bought new underwear. Normally he wore boxers, but tonight he was donning tight black cotton briefs. The soft material so close to his skin made him feel very aware down there, and he knew Sheila would pick up on that.
To complete the ensemble, he slipped on a black corduroy blazer and scuffed leather boots. The left boot had a three-quarter-inch-thick rubber insole-just high enough to change his gait as he walked, but not so uncomfortable that he couldn’t run if he needed to. From a drawer, he chose a pair of eyeglasses with thick black rectangular frames and tinted lenses. Tinted glasses could draw suspicion, but tonight they’d be fine. He wouldn’t be surprised if several people-Sheila included-showed up to this meeting in sunglasses.
And now for the finishing touch: a light spray of Burberry cologne. It had taken him two hours in the department store to figure out the right one. He spritzed it lightly on his neck, inhaling the clean, masculine scent. Citrus and musk. Morris had been wearing this exact cologne during the fake interview. Which meant Sheila liked it. Perhaps she’d even picked it out.
Ethan assessed his appearance one last time. Such a full disguise was probably unnecessary-he could certainly have planned this night differently and done away with the mask altogether-but he wanted to indulge himself. Why not? Disguises made him feel omnipotent.
Tonight, though, there was another reason: he wanted Sheila to know just how fucking good he was.
He smiled at his reflection. He’d transformed himself from a twenty-three-year-old white male into a light- skinned black man, late thirties, with clean-cut bone structure and soulful, knowing eyes.
Handsome, strong, confident. The perfect bait.
Ethan jogged up his basement steps and moved quickly through the main level of his home. The four- thousand-square-foot rambler was nothing like the dingy apartment he shared with Abby in Seattle’s university district. For one thing, this house, nestled in the sleepy suburb of Lake Stevens, was all his.
He’d bought it two years before, shortly after he and Abby had settled in at PSSU. It was the best decision he’d ever made. The house made it possible to separate his university life from his other life, as he sometimes thought of it. It had a huge, airy basement-hard to find in the Northwest-which was perfect for his needs. And the thick forest of trees behind the house made it easy to slip in and out of the neighborhood undetected.
Flicking off all the lights, he opened his back door slowly and peeked outside. Houses were on either side of him, but they were separated by at least fifty feet of trees. Thankfully, interaction among the neighbors was low- Briar Woods residents were just snooty enough to avoid each other unless it couldn’t be helped.
It was almost six o’clock. The McClellans, the workaholic neighbors to his left, still weren’t home. She was an attorney with her own practice in Everett, he was an orthodontist here in Lake Stevens. No kids. They almost never made it in before 8:00 p.m.
Simon and Elizabeth Hoffer lived on the right. He could see Mrs. Hoffer bustling around the kitchen while her three young children sat around the large table doing homework. Simon Hoffer was in town this week, which meant Mrs. Hoffer’s lover would not be coming over once the kids were asleep.
A quick streak across his backyard and he was on his way, heading toward the forest behind. Briar Woods was technically a gated community, but the only actual gate was at its front entrance, which was manned by a security guard at night. The small forest was the only thing separating the homes from the rest of Lake Stevens. The Homeowners’ Association had polled the residents earlier that year, asking if they were willing to pay to have twenty-four-hour security. Ethan, of course, had voted no. So had most of the other residents, which wasn’t surprising. Rich people were notoriously cheap.
Once immersed in the trees, he moved through the forest at a quicker pace. It was completely dark, but the small, thin flashlight he’d stuck in his back pocket provided just enough light to keep him from stumbling.
Ten minutes later, he popped out on the other side of the forest, into the small community park. It was dinnertime and empty now, so nobody noticed the dark figure with the slightly off-center walk making his way past the monkey bars toward the big black Chevy Suburban parked near the sidewalk.
The SUV was a rental. He’d paid for it up front in cash using a fake driver’s license and phony insurance card in the name of James Smith. He never used the same ID twice.
Coming back home he would have no choice but to drive the Suburban through the main entrance, but he’d already planned for that. It was all in the timing.
Heading south on I-5, he had forty minutes until he reached Seattle. His first stop: the Safeway where Abby worked.
No better place to test out his disguise.
Standing in line under the harsh lights, Ethan held a carton of milk in one hand and a box of Fiber One cereal in the other. Once he got to the express checkout, he picked up a copy of People and placed it on top of the conveyor belt beside his groceries.
Abby stood at the cash register wearing her green Safeway smock. The bluish tinge under her eyes told him she was tired. Her shift wasn’t over for another four hours and she’d already been on her feet awhile. With a brief smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes, she pressed the large button near her hip, sending his items down the conveyor belt toward her.
“How’s it going?” Her tone was terse, disinterested. She scanned the items and placed them into the plastic grocery bag stretched open in front of her.
“Great.” He smiled. “It’s a beautiful evening. How about you? Long day?”
“Aren’t they all?” Finally she glanced up at him. “You’re Australian?”
“I’m from New Zealand, actually. Been here for ten years. Can’t seem to get rid of the accent.”
“Why would you want to get rid of it?”
He shrugged. “To blend in, I suppose.”
She punched the buttons on her cash register and frowned. “What’s so amazing about blending in.” It came out a statement, not a question. “That’ll be nine fifty-two, please.”
He paid with a ten. She made change, putting it right into his hand. Their fingers brushed.
“Sometimes it’s good not to stand out,” he said.
Their eyes met briefly. He held his breath. Her eyes moved away.
“Thanks and have a good night,” she said, then added, “Enjoy your People.”
The words would have sounded sincere to anyone but him. Abby had no interest in celebrity gossip.
He grinned. “Thanks. Don’t work too hard.”
Nodding, he picked up his bag and headed for the exit.
He couldn’t resist glancing back at her just once before he reached the automatic doors, but she was on to the next customer.
He’d passed with flying colors.
The Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting started at eight. Ethan made it with five minutes to spare. He parked his SUV in the parking lot of the Front Street Methodist Church and entered through the side like everyone else, bypassing the doors to the chapel and heading straight down to the basement.
The windowless room was large and surprisingly cheerful. Colorful biblical murals were painted on the walls, and he wondered if this was the same room they used to teach Sunday school. Rows of folding chairs filled the
