Chapter 9
Vicky waited for the paperboy. He was late, as usual.
She would pretend to be impatient, but secretly she was delighted. The last time, she had seen how Mr. Horsham had looked her over, as if trying to see how she looked with her clothes off. She had just been waiting for another excuse to be alone with him.
She had read everything about him there was to read, had followed him to nightclubs, and had even snuck into a few of them, watching from a distance as he handed out tip money like it was water. He liked the girls, that was for certain. Tall, willowy blondes. Such as herself. Well, such as herself — after going to the salon every two weeks to keep the blonde hue.
She checked herself out in the mirror of her compact. The Horsham estate had almost no mirrors—actually, none
