Chapter One
Relief filled Alicia Shoal. Her foster parents, Bud and Margo White, and their loser friends, finally ran out of beer in the apartment and decided to move their loud party to a local bar. Without their drunken noise, she’d have a chance to finally settle the three little ones they’d dumped on her to babysit.
She’d tried to calm the smallest boy who’d eventually cried himself to sleep, but three-year-old Buddy Junior, the White’s own kid, refused to share her attention.
A handful to say the least, a grumpy, dissatisfied child, he demanded constant care every moment he was awake. Thankfully, he too drifted off and that left her with the two-year-old toddler. Being the sweetest of the lot, she just needed a bit of a cuddle to settle down and close her eyes.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Alicia tiptoed from the bedroom, stretched and went to spray air freshener to clear away the distinct odor from the weed the adults had shared earlier. Then she cleared away the beer cans and empty snack dishes scattered all over the front room and kitchen.
The gluttons didn’t leave any for her, but then they never did. After an hour of tidying, even her foster mother, slacker Margo, shouldn’t find anything to bitch about. Alicia knew from experience, overcoming that hurdle took a lot of patience. When Margo was hungover, she pressed buttons and Alicia had to ignore a lot of crap.
Pushing back never paid off, she’d learned that lesson after the last three foster families. This time, she’d swallow the shit, keep her cool and wait and plan for her day of freedom.
She slid her fingers through her thick hair in the front and pushed the straight, black strands away from her neck and let them flow down her back. Being half Chinese, her black hair was a symbol of her heritage as much as her slightly almond-shaped dark brown eyes.
When she was younger, many others in the orphanage would tease her, make her aware of their differences. As she grew older, her slim Asian body became a real plus, and she stopped letting the slurs bother her.
Snagging the almost empty bag of pretzels and sneaking a coke from the bunch in the fridge, she headed for the sitting room to kick off her shoes and maybe get some homework done.
Her ninth grade math teacher was a stickler about the work she assigned and would phone the parents personally if her students didn’t hand it in on time.
Earlier in the year, Margo had been called about Alicia, and she’d cut off Alicia’s access to her stupid TV for a month by unplugging it and sticking it in their storage locker in the basement.
Considering this was her only form of entertainment, even though the dumb appliance was old, murky and small, she relied on having it for nights like tonight when she’d be expected to stay awake until the early hours of the morning. That’s when everyone would come stumbling in drunk and disorderly to pick up their kids, and in some cases they wouldn’t even bother until the next day.
Alicia lowered the bright lights to a dull roar rather than the full-on glare overhead that Bud liked. She hated feeling like a fish in a backlit bowl for all the neighbors to see.
The big windows across the front of their twentieth-floor Seattle apartment, in the middle of a bunch of other similar buildings, gave her the creeps. It made her feel like a target for some pathetic loser with no life and only a set of binoculars for entertainment.
She noticed that Bud, her foster father – and that moniker was a joke – had left his binoculars out. Usually, he’d lock them in the cabinet.
She sauntered over to pick them up, and as a lark, checked the dials so she could set them back as close to where they had been. Then she adjusted the lenses and leaning against the back of the sofa, she started to scan the buildings like she’d see Bud and Margo do all the time.
First, she looked to see if the older woman who lived in the building directly across was still up and watching TV. Bud had nicknamed her the “slouch on the couch” because most of the time that’s where she’d be found. Sure enough, there she was tonight, apparently sound asleep, or if the booze bottle on the floor was any indication, she’d passed out.
Moving on, Alicia saw that the lights were dimmed in many of the windows but the building across from her, a floor lower, suddenly glowed. Attracted to the light, she focused there and her breath caught in her throat.
She watched a large male figure enter the scene. With a gun held firmly, he skulked around the apartment threateningly, hidden from the blonde woman who’d just turned on the light.
Moving without a care in the world, the beauty took two more steps and would be crowding his space any second.
Beautiful, in a silky kimono, long hair streaming over her shoulders, rubbing lotion on her hands, she sauntered slowly to face a monster she didn’t know waited.
Alicia found herself whimpering.Stop!Please!Without intending to, she’d lifted her hand to wave frantically, to catch the other’s attention. Gurgled screams, straining to be released, sent shockwaves throughout her system. Numerous nerve endings in her head lit, shooting adrenalin to all her alarm centers. She fought to gather her scattered thoughts.
What should she do? Whatcouldshe do? She pranced in place – a majorette in a parade waiting for the music.
The prowler began to move, like a cat stalking his prey. This kept Alicia glued to the scene. With tension unleased, a voice inside her began to warn, to shriek… to pray.
God, Lady, can’t you feel him waiting? Run, escape!
The binoculars became heavy, burdensome. She had a death hold on them. Clutched in her sweating hands, they didn’t waver, though it took a herculean effort to keep them in place.
Still Alicia couldn’t put them down – couldn’t stop watching. Mesmerized by the horror, she had a sudden urge to pee and at the same time to run.
She did neither.
She watched.