Date: 7/30/2016, Categories: Exhibitionism, Author: Easthamptonpoet4u, Source: LushStories
At Annie Burke’s cocktail party that evening, the sole topic seemed to be the peeping tom. As Annie carried two vodka tonics from the deck down to the lawn she was within earshot of one conversation about “the Tom,” (as the men usually said), when she heard another one about “the peeper," (as the women usually said). Nearing a grouping of Adirondack chairs, she heard Julie Davidson say: “It has to be a local Holcombe guy. You’ll see when he’s caught. They think the summer women are all models.” Holcombe was the name of both the lake and the village on its eastern shore. It was a good-sized lake, but with only one other community and that was on its western shore. All other property was owned by the state, which wasn’t selling - a policy that existing homeowners thought was environmentally sound and commendably far-sighted. The geography made the Holcombe summer community relatively isolated and close-knit. Annie’s party, like most during the summer, had no guest list; it was simply announced. In practice, that meant all the summer people came but few from the village. There were exceptions, however, and tonight the exception was Gregory Makis, Holcombe’s chief of police. That was no accident, Annie had invited him. Now, she called out, “Whose vodka tonics am I serving?” and all heads turned. The men’s smiles were quick and charming. Annie was the only single woman in the summer set, both a bit of a mystery and a challenge. Tonight, her chestnut hair was in a ponytail, swept ...