Sara Shepard - Stunning

“ Yes ,” Mrs. Kahn said primly, standing back up and blowing off the tip of the cue as though it were smoking.

“Nice one, dear.” Mr. Kahn nudged Noel and Eric. “I think the ladies have us beat.”

Noel pouted. “That’s because it’s five against three.”

Aria considered protesting, shooting a look at Klaudia, Naomi Zeigler, and Riley Wolfe, the third, fourth, and fifth members of the all-girl pool team. They hadn’t taken one shot. Aria knew they were only here to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Klaudia?” Mrs. Kahn said sweetly. “Do you want to play?”

“That okay.” Klaudia glanced at Aria. “I waiting for a call from my new boyfriend. He writer who live in New York.”

“I think you know him, Aria,” Naomi said, and Riley burst into giggles.

Aria gripped the pool cue hard, resisting the urge to javelin-throw it toward them.

Noel sauntered over to Aria, wrapped his arm around her, and gave her a long, passionate kiss. She sensed the girls shifting uncomfortably behind her, and when she opened her eyes, Klaudia was pointedly looking away. Aria slipped her hand into Noel’s, grateful. “What did I do to deserve you?” she whispered.

“I’m sorry they’re freezing you out.” Noel rolled his eyes in their direction.

Aria shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

It was Mr. Kahn’s turn to shoot, and he rolled up the sleeves of his blue Brooks Brothers shirt, leaned over the table, and hit the cue ball with laserlike precision. It banked off the far rail and clonked against the number six, sending two more balls plopping into the pockets.

Mrs. Kahn golf-clapped. “Brilliant shot, dear! You’ve still got the magic touch.”

Mr. Kahn looked at his kids. “Did Mom ever tell you I hustled pool one weekend in Monte Carlo?”

“You were so sexy,” Mrs. Kahn purred, kissing Mr. Kahn’s cheek.

“Guys, gross .” Noel covered his eyes.

Mr. Kahn took his wife’s hands and started waltzing her around the room. “We need to practice for the Art Museum Costume Gala next month.”

“I can’t wait,” Mrs. Kahn lilted. “It’s so lovely to dress up, isn’t it, dear?” She glanced at the others. “We’re going as Marie Antoinette and Louis the Sixteenth.”

“We’ll make a lovely pair.” Mr. Kahn dipped his wife so low that the top of her head practically kissed the carpet. “I do love a good costume.”

Aria was so startled she nearly swallowed her gum. But as she watched the Kahns swirl around the game room, she felt herself relaxing. No matter what Mr. Kahn did in his free time, this was a couple that loved each other. There was probably a logical explanation for why Mr. Kahn had dressed up as a woman at Fresh Fields. Maybe he was getting in character for his Art Museum Gala costume—people spent thousands of dollars on flamboyant disguises for that event. Or maybe he’d lost a bet with a business partner.

Aria grabbed Noel’s hand and squeezed it tight, feeling victorious. She hadn’t gotten a single text about this, which meant she’d beaten A at A’s game. For once, she was in control of the information, not the other way around.

Mr. and Mrs. Kahn kept dancing, and the pool game continued. The boys sank the rest of the balls, edging them to victory. Afterward, Noel scooped Aria up in his arms. “Want to get out of here? Escape to a movie at the Ritz, maybe?” His eyebrows rose up and down suggestively. Going to the Ritz was code for sitting in the back row and making out.

Just then, Mr. Kahn clapped his hands. “What does everyone say to gelato? There’s that new place in Yarmouth I’ve been dying to try.”

“Ooh, I heard that place was divine.” Mrs. Kahn slid the pool cues back into the rack. “I’m in.”

“I could go for that,” Eric said.

Naomi made a face. “Gelato is, like, pure fat.”

“I no like things that are cold—only hot,” Klaudia said, making sexy eyes at Eric, who ignored her. Apparently he’d gotten the message that Klaudia was loony, too.

Noel glanced at Aria apologetically, probably thinking she wanted to get out of there, but Aria just shrugged. She didn’t have time to go to the movies with Noel, anyway—she was meeting Emily at the Bakers’ open house in about an hour and a half.

“I think gelato would be great,” she said to Mr. Kahn.

“Fantastic.” Mr. Kahn was already halfway up the stairs. “I’ll go pick it up.”

“The weather is so dreary, though.” Mrs. Kahn peered through the door of the walk-out basement at the rain pounding on the brick patio. “I’d hate for you to drive all the way to Yarmouth.”

“I don’t mind,” Mr. Kahn called over his shoulder. “Why doesn’t everyone give me their orders?”

Noel, Aria, Eric, and Mrs. Kahn climbed the stairs behind Mr. Kahn and waited as he dug the menu out of a leather file in the cabinet drawer. They selected their flavors, and Mr. Kahn made the call. As he was slipping on his rain jacket, Mrs. Kahn touched his arm. “Want me to go with you?”

Mr. Kahn kissed her lightly on the lips. “There’s no use for us both to get soaked. I won’t be long.”

He shut the front door, and his car engine roared. Mrs. Kahn and Eric disappeared into the den, and Noel excused himself to the bathroom, leaving Aria all alone in the cavernous kitchen. The huge house was suddenly very still and overwhelming, the only sound the pounding rain against the roof. Suddenly thunder crackled, and the room went dark. Aria screamed. “Noel?” she called out, feeling along the walls.

Somewhere in the distance, someone—Naomi, maybe—giggled. Another clap of thunder sounded, shaking the pots and pans hanging over the island. Lightning lit up the room. For a split second, Aria was sure she saw a pair of eyes staring at her from outside the back window. She screamed again.

Then the lights snapped back on with a spark. The refrigerator hummed calmly, the recessed lights cast a peaceful yellow glow over the room, and the eyes at the window were gone. When Aria looked down, she saw that her cell phone, which was nestled in her pocket, was blinking. She grabbed it and swallowed hard. One new text message from Anonymous.

She pressed READ, dreading what she might see.

It was a picture of a blond-haired woman applying cherry-red lipstick in the front seat of a car. The woman wore a blue oxford shirt and an expensive gold watch—the same ones Mr. Kahn had worn during the pool game. Add in his telltale bushy eyebrows and straight mouth, and anyone would know it was him. The clock on the dashboard of his car said 1:35—three minutes ago. The tall, iron eagle on the post in the corner of the picture was the eagle at the Kahns’ front gate. He’d put on the wig before he’d even left the property.

Aria ran to the window, certain she’d see someone lurking at the end of the driveway, but there was no one there. Sweat beaded on her forehead. No.

“Aria?” Noel called from the hall. “Are you okay?”

Aria dropped the curtain and whipped around. Noel was walking toward her. She fumbled for the ERASE button on her phone, not wanting Noel to see the picture, but her finger bumped the right arrow instead, bringing up a note that went with the picture. As Aria read it, her heart stopped dead.

Secrets are such a drag. Break up with your loving boyfriend, or this pic goes public. —A

“Welcome to the open house!” a cheery realtor with a stiff black hair-helmet said as she ushered Emily and Aria through the open door of 204 Ship Lane. She thrust a square business card into each of their hands. “My name is Sandra. Have a look around!”

Emily turned the card over. Let me find you the home of your dreams , Sandra’s slogan read. “Actually, I was wondering—” she started, but Sandra was already attending to a new couple who had come in after them.