Sophie opened the little bag hanging from her wrist and started to repair her makeup. As she put on lipstick, she looked in the mirror toward the stall the woman had just taken. Had she heard Sophie’s sniffling? To her surprise, she saw that the woman’s buckled shoes were on backward. It took her a moment to understand. She was standing up in the stall.
Sophie did her best to remain calm. Slowly, she put her lipstick back and waited, but the woman—the man—didn’t leave the stall. Sophie left the restroom, then stood outside the door, rummaging inside her bag, as though looking for something. After a few minutes the person came out and again looked at Sophie, but this time his eyes showed his appreciation of her cleavage. Under the heavy makeup, she could see what looked to be the beginning of dark whiskers.
She followed him down the short hall, and when they entered the ballroom, Sophie looked around for a familiar face. Mike wasn’t far away. She caught his eye and pointed at the back of Martha Washington.
After that, everything happened at once. Reede appeared out of nowhere, his strong arm going around her waist and leading her out of the building. Her job was done and he wanted her out of there.
Eleven
Reede refilled Sophie’s champagne glass. “You should feel good,” he said. “If it had been up to me I would have left before Osmond showed up.”
They were in Kim’s house and Reede’s phone hadn’t stopped buzzing as Mike kept him informed of what was going on.
“He was an actuary?” Sophie asked as she sipped her second glass.
“Yes, which meant he knew a lot about the finances of people in town. My parents used him for their retirement plan.”
She was looking across the kitchen island at Reede. He was still wearing that damned mask and she’d had enough of it. “Off!” she said.
“What?”
“The mask. It’s time for the great reveal.” When he started to speak, she put up her hand. “No excuses. I don’t care if you’re covered in scars or if you’re the ugliest man alive. I want to see you.”
Reede put down his champagne flute, then slowly, oh so very, very slowly put his hands to the back of his head to untie the mask. He fumbled with it.
“You want some help?”
“Sure,” he said and there was such despair in his voice that Sophie’s heart went out to him. Was his face that disfigured?
She walked around the counter to him. He was sitting on a stool, so his face was level with hers, and she worked at the knot of the strings. “Who tied it like this?”
“Me,” Reede said and his voice sounded like a man standing before a firing squad. “I was afraid it would come off so I double knotted it.”
“Triple, quadruple,” she murmured. “I think I saw some scissors in a drawer and—”
Reede took her hands in his. “Sophie, I think I should tell you that—”
He broke off because suddenly all the lights went out and they were standing in darkness.
Neither of them moved and Reede kept hold of Sophie’s hand.
“Do you know where the breakers are?” Sophie asked.
“In Kim’s workroom. You stay here and I’ll check.” As Reede made his way across the living room, his phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket. It was from Colin Frazier, the sheriff. YOU OWE ALL OF US the text message read and it took Reede a full minute to understand.
“Is everything all right?” Sophie asked.
“I’m not sure but I think th
e power is out for the entire neighborhood.”
Sophie made her way to the front door and opened it. Sure enough, there wasn’t a light on in any house that she could see. “It’s all dark,” she said. “All the lights—”
She didn’t finish because Reede had crossed the room in a few long strides and his arms were around her.
“You were wonderful today,” he said as he put his hands on her shoulders. “You walked across that beam as though you were auditioning for the Cirque du Soleil.”
“I was scared to death,” she answered as she put her hands up to his face. “It’s off,” she said and for the first time felt his skin without the intrusion of a mask. She ran her hands over his upper cheeks, across his nose, then to his eyes. He closed them as she ran her fingertips over his eyelids, and up to his brows. “I thought maybe they’d been burned off, that maybe you’d had an accident.”