Patricia Rosemoor: Skin

She went to the closet and, rummaging through the dresses on the rack, pulled out the one she’d considered wearing to the tea.

The two dresses were almost identical.

Any appetite she’d had was gone.

Could she really do it? Go to the home of a potential killer?

And then, later, dance for him?

She would do anything, she reminded herself.

Anything to save Hannah and Carmen.

LILITH ARRIVED at the Ensdorf Funeral Home building exactly on time. It was the old kind of setup, a century old business with the apartment on the second floor. She rang the doorbell and within seconds was buzzed up. Climbing up the dimly lit stairwell, the weird, musty smell made her think of death. Her anxiety rose with each step.

The door opened before she could knock. “I knew that was you.” Wearing a dark suit and tie, Paul held the door open for Lilith and indicated she should come inside. “You wore the dress. It looks perfect on you.”

Perfect fifty years ago, she thought. “Thank you. It was so thoughtful of you to buy it for me.”

His hair slicked down around his face, Paul beamed at her. “Come, come. Grandmother is anxiously waiting to meet you.”

Paul put a hand at her waist and pushed her forward. She tried not to shiver in response. He took her straight through the living room, filled with an ancient stuffed sofa and chairs, all with doilies on the arms to keep them protected. The equally old-fashioned dining room was growing dark, but the overhead crystal chandelier remained unlit.

Already sitting at the head of a massive wooden table with carved legs with animal feet, Paul’s grandmother wore an even more matronly version of Lilith’s dress. In the shadows, the old woman looked spooky, with tufts of white hair sticking out from little twists surrounding her head.

“Lilith, this is Grandmother Ensdorf. Grandmother, this is Lilith. Now isn’t she everything I promised.”

“We’ll see,” the old woman said in an unnaturally strident voice. “The food is getting cold, and I’m hungry. Sit.”

On their plates already set before their chairs: peas, lumpy-looking mashed potatoes and what looked like overcooked liver. Despite the fact that she’d only eaten a single piece of chicken earlier, Lilith’s stomach turned over at the rank smell.

“Here, Lilith,” Paul said, pulling a chair back for her.

Lilith sat and gave him a little nod. He took the seat across from her.

“Thank the Lord first, then eat,” Grandmother said.

Paul bowed his head and did as she ordered, ending with, “Thanks for these and all the gifts you give us. Amen.”

Grandmother forked a piece of meat and stuck it in her mouth with enthusiasm. “I’ve always been fond of organ meat.” She smacked appreciatively.

Paul looked straight at Lilith. “Everyone involved in the family business is.”

Grandmother and Paul giggled together. Lilith’s stomach churned. The smell of the liver getting to her, she pushed away her plate while Paul and Grandmother ate with relish.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Paul asked.

“Humph.” Grandmother pouted. “Probably hates my cooking.”

Paul reached over and patted her hand. “Impossible.”

Lilith used the first excuse that came to her — she didn’t want to be asked to leave before she had the opportunity to do what she came for. “I have to watch my calories or I won’t be able to fit in my uniform — one of the downsides of my job.”

“Girls, these days.” Grandmother made a tsk-tsk-tsk of disapproval. “Always starving themselves.”

“Lilith won’t have to worry about that much longer if I have my way with her.”

Lilith hid her revulsion behind her linen napkin and wondered how long it would be before she could escape this place of death.

LILITH BROUGHT IN a stack of dirty dishes and piled them on the counter next to the sink. She checked to make sure she wasn’t followed. Listened intently to the murmur of voices from the other room.

Going to the back door, she stealthily unlocked it and winced at the sound of the dead bolt sliding open. When she heard footsteps, she hurried to the sink and set the dishes in a pan of soapy water. No dishwasher here. This place hadn’t been remodeled in the last half-century. The cabinets were all metal, the refrigerator and stove avocado green. Wanting to orient herself, she quickly checked out the window so she would be certain of where to find the back entrance just before Paul joined her.

He stood too close. “Change your mind about going to service with Grandmother and me tonight?”

“I’m not the religious type.”

He placed his hands on her hips and pressed his groin into her buttocks. Wanting to gag, she had to fight her instincts to toss him. She needed the chance to search his place. She would do nothing to ruin it.

“You could be any type you wanted,” he said, his mouth practically in her ear. “You could take the opportunity I’m offering you.”

“Sounds like you’ve offered this opportunity to someone before. Who?”

“Jealous? You’re not the first woman in my life.”

He started rubbing himself against her — not that it seemed to be doing much for him, at least not as far as she could tell. Remembering his sister saying he couldn’t get it up, she wondered if he’d resorted to torturing and killing women for sexual satisfaction.

She noticed the kitchen door opening slightly and realized the old woman was spying on them.

“So who was she, Paulie — the other woman?”

“She was not important. You’re important.” He wrapped his arms around her so he could cup her breasts as he pressed her against the sink.

Wanting in the worst way to flip him and press her foot on his windpipe, Lilith eased herself out of his grasp and said, “You know I’m scheduled to work in a half hour.”

“And I have to take Grandmother to church. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll be at the club to see you and Melinda as soon as I bring Grandmother home and tuck her in bed.” He tried to get in a position to kiss her. “We have a few more minutes.”

Lilith forced herself to smile. “I need to leave now. If I’m late, Sal will dock my salary.”

“I understand. But you realize once we’re together, you won’t be working at the club anymore.”

Paul opened the swinging door for her. Standing at the far end of the living room now, Grandmother merely watched her leave with a satisfied smile.

Lilith didn’t go far. Just across the street to a vestibule of an apartment house that gave her a view of the glowing mortuary sign and the entrance below.

“C’mon, c’mon.” She really had to get going if she was going to go through with her plan for the night.

At last, Paul left the building with Grandmother. He helped the elderly woman into a car parked right out front.

As soon as they drove off, Lilith whipped out of the vestibule and rushed across the street. She went around to the alley and took the open stairway to the kitchen door that she’d unlocked.

Once inside, she began a frantic search, checking bookshelves, opening the drawers in the kitchen and then the dining room. In the living room, she searched the drawers in the old-fashioned end tables.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

The small hallway off the living room gave her access to four doors. One revealed the bathroom, another Grandmother’s bedroom, the other two were closed. She tried one of the closed doors.

Locked.

She jiggled the handle. Felt above the door for a possible key. Stooped to peek through the keyhole.

Complete darkness.

Frustrated, she tried the other door. It opened to the bedroom, and she rushed inside and attacked the chest of drawers. They were filled with nothing but the usual clothing.