Sharon entered the store and walked up to her. "Hello, Miss Campbell," she said.
Recognition flickered in the big gray eyes and the full lips formed an O of surprise. "You," she said. "You!"
"You remember me?"
"I remember you."
"You don't seem overjoyed to see me."
"What the hell are you doing in here?"
"I wanted to talk to you."
"Well, I don't want to talk to you. What are you, crazy or something? Don't you know enough to stay away from a place where…"
"I need your help, Miss Campbell. I…"
"Get out of here."
"Mark Haley's back in town. Did you know that?"
"You're crazy. What do you want from me, anyhow?"
"I told you. I need your help."
"Listen. You try giving me a hard time, and it'll be your ass. One word to my parole officer and…"
"Would that be Joyce Thornton?"
The other girl started to nod, then caught herself and glared. "Beat it, will you?"
"You're over-reacting. What's the matter, Miss Campbell? Is your conscience bothering you, or what?"
"Conscience! What do you mean, conscience? What the hell are you talking about?"
"The truth about that robbery will come out someday. When it does…"
"It's already out. Hadn't you heard? That's why they put you away."
"I had nothing to do with it. Mark Haley framed me."
"Oh, sure."
"And you know it."
"Sure."
"Listen, Miss Campbell. If enough of us parolees got together, we might be able to do something. Most police and parole officers are honest. They may get pretty rough at times, but they're fair. If they knew how girls like you and me are being exploited by people like Joyce Thornton…"
"Save your breath."
"…they might be able to do something about her."
"You're out of your mind. Did you know that?"
"And if you told the truth about that robbery, the D.A. might let you turn state's evidence… You'd be clear of it – and so would I."
Peggy started to say something, then compressed her lips.
"Eventually, you'll have to pay for your part in that robbery," Sharon said. "But if you tell the truth about it, and tell it now, before it comes out some other way…"
"I told you to get out of here. I'm telling you again. There won't be any third time."
"But listen. If you…"
"Let me show you something pretty," Peggy said quietly, reaching down into her bosom.
"Good Lord!" Sharon said as the other girl placed an old-fashioned straight razor on the counter in front of her.
"I cut a girl's throat with one just like this," Peggy Campbell said. "That's why they sent me up." She sighed regretfully. "She didn't die, worse luck. But then, she'll never be able to talk again either. She lives entirely on fluids now, they tell me."
Sharon moistened her lips, watching as Peggy pushed the razor down into her bra again.
"You get the idea?" Peggy asked, smiling at Sharon with slitted eyes. "It's not Joyce Thornton you have to worry about. It's me. You ever come near me again, and I'll slice your tits off. You cause me any trouble about that robbery, and I'll cut your throat." She paused. "Do you doubt me?"
"No," Sharon said.
"You'd Goddamned well better not," Peggy said. "Now get the fuck out of here."
That afternoon, still a little shaken by her encounter with Peggy Campbell, Sharon sat on the couch in the living room, sipping a martini and trying to decide what her next step ought to be. She had been there an hour, still dressed as she had been when she set out for the Arcade, but for the life of her she could think of nowhere else to turn. She could go to the police or the district attorney, or perhaps even to the parole board. But who would believe her? A single parolee, a convicted criminal, wouldn't have a chance. And the possibility of getting other parolees to back up her story now seemed to be out of the question.
She poured another drink – her third – and was just about to sample it when the door-knocker sounded. She put her drink down and went to answer it.
The teenage girl who smiled back at her was a honey blonde with a beautiful, small-featured face, skin like fresh cream, and the most perfect body Sharon had ever seen.
"Hello, Cousin Sharon," she said.
"Diane!" Sharon said.
"Didn't you recognize me?"
"No. Good heavens, honey! How you've changed!"
The girl laughed. "Well, you have too. You're prettier than ever."
"Come in, come in," Sharon said as she drew the girl inside and closed the door behind her. "How old are you now? Seventeen?"
"Sixteen."
"Sixteen! With a body like that?"
The girl blushed. "I just started building out all of a sudden."
"You're absolutely gorgeous, Diane. But what in the world are you doing here?"
"I just thought I'd come in and visit with you for a while. I can only stay a couple of hours."
"How're Aunt Marge and Uncle Bill?"
"Fine."
"And how are things on the farm?"
"Awful."
"Oh?"
"It's awful lonesome, I mean."
"How'd you know I… how'd you know I would be here?"
"We get the city paper out there. There was a little item about it."
"Do your folks know you came?"
"Gosh no. They'd throw a fit." Sharon smiled. "Do you think I had anything to do with that robbery, Diane?"
"No."
Sharon took her by the hand and led her over to the couch. "Arid so you came in to see me," she said. "Well, isn't that sweet of you."
"I always liked you, Sharon."
"Well, you are sweet. Would you like a drink?"
"No."
"Good girl."
"It's just that it always makes me dizzy. And Daddy might smell it when I got home."
"Let's see. It's been two years since I saw you, hasn't it?"
"Just about."
"I can't get over the change," Sharon said, glancing at the proud young breasts beneath the clinging jersey blouse. "I'll bet you have the boys down there half out of their mind."
Diane's smile changed subtly. "I'm not too much interested in boys," she said.
"What! Not interested in boys? A little beauty like you?" She trailed a fingertip from Diane's bare knee up the smooth, pale-gold skin to the hem of her brief skirt. "With legs like those? You wouldn't kid your cousin Sharon, would you?" She took her hand away.
"I just don't like them, that's all," Diane said.
"Cousin Sharon…"
"Yes?"
"Do you remember when you came down to visit us? You and that real pretty girl? Vickie?"
"Yes," Sharon said. "Vickie and I live together now, Diane."
"Well, do you remember how you and she went swimming in that old mill pond one day?"
Sharon looked at her. "I remember," she said. "I didn't think anyone saw us."
"I did."
Sharon was remembering what had happened after she and Vickie had climbed out on the bank. She reached for the martini she had put down when she went to answer the door. "You did?" she said, trying to make it casual.
"Uh-huh," Diane said. She was blushing furiously now. "That's why I don't like boys."
Sharon almost choked on her drink. "What?" she said.
"I watched you. I saw what you and Vickie were doing to each other."
Sharon drank the entire martini in four long swallows and put the glass down on the table. "I see," she said.
"I'd never known girls did that to each other before," Diane said.
"I'm sorry you were shocked, dear," Sharon said. "But you must understand that older girls…"