My mind is never totally relaxed and even then I could not totally just clear away my thoughts. The irony though was that even in those moments of exploring intimacy I wondered about her feelings for me. I don’t think I had anything that you could call a romantic attachment to her, at least that’s what I thought. What took place between us, at least from my perspective, was the chance to occupy my mind and numb any feelings that might still be lingering there for Mark. I even reasoned that this at least gave us an excuse to be parked, just in case some cop came up to the car to see why two young women were in such an isolated place late at night.
After a while, we decided to take a break, for a moment, and we tried to get comfortable in the confinement of that seat. She rested her head in my lap and I gently stroked her hair. As I was contemplating what had just transpired, as well as the events of the evening, I took notice of the clock on the dashboard. Almost two and a half hours had passed yet in my mind it had not seemed so long! Then Nicole broke the silence—she admitted she had connected with me from the moment we met, and went on about her feelings and such. She even admitted it was her who noticed me that first day of school on the bleachers and had asked Daniel to go up and make contact. She then surprised me when she touched my face and it seemed fighting back tears, “Melanie, I love you” I smiled and looked at her and told her I loved her as well, then she started crying, and so I pulled her closer to me. I had to tell her what she wanted to hear—and I reasoned that it took her mind off what was going on with Daniel.
Then Nicole strained to see the time on her watch. She jumped up and in an almost panicked voice implored, “Come on…hurry, we have to get dressed now before Daniel shows up!” She started gathering her clothes as I did. She said Daniel could be there any time and that he would not be very happy if he found out what we had done. I promised to keep our secret as I sped up the process of getting dressed. I needed Nicole and Daniel to be my friends and I certainly did not want anything to complicate their relationship and disrupt our group dynamics—even though Mark was gone… maybe especially since he was gone.
Silence returned for a while. I too was worried about what had happened with Daniel but that was not the only thing on my mind. I wanted him to succeed for so many reasons but then I wondered about what had just transpired. What would be the nature of my friendship with Nicole in the future? And most importantly, my world view had been shaken a bit. I had not planned on what happened happening—I had resisted what I believed to be Nicole’s “come-ons” but now I had basically seduced her. I wondered if this meant I might be a lesbian after all. I immediately dismissed that and, as I had done earlier in the hotel room, repressed the notion that I might even be bisexual. I reasoned this was a momentary need for connection and Nicole was there for me. Neither I, nor Nicole, would even discuss the subject again...well, for at least several months at least—and then the dimensions of our relationship would take an even greater alteration than I would expect.
As we sat there, the intensity of the rain increased—the sound almost deafening as it crashed against the roof of the car. Nicole combed her hair and asked if she looked okay to which I told her she was beautiful. She smiled and held me tight but her anxiety over what might have happened to Daniel was growing. I was still curious though so I reminded her of her promise to tell me why Daniel had spent so much time planning Lamb’s demise. She said that Daniel’s cousin, who died of the drug overdose, had not always been a druggie. He had been a focused student and had planned on an ROTC scholarship for years. He was bright, yet sometimes unable to get the highest grades—but by the time he was half way through high school it looked as if his hard work would land him success. However, he totally got off on the wrong foot with Lamb and wound up barely passing history—which caused him to fall below the total GPA he needed, and so he failed at his goal. This caused him to go into depression—he gave up on life basically, which lead to his eventual slide into drugs. Nicole almost broke into tears at this point when she said that he later died by overdosing. Daniel blamed Lamb and vowed revenge, but he would never say how he would get it.
Nicole stopped, looked out into the darkness, and her worry intensified to the degree what she was starting to shake. Then, she thought she heard something—but what? Just a few seconds later a tapping noise on the back window startled us. We could not see through the fogged-up windows at first, which made for an eerie moment, but then Daniel's voice was clearly recognizable.
He was drenched, muddy and exhausted—he had been forced to walk carefully to the car since it was too dark to run the eight or nine miles from Lamb’s house. We were anxious for him to report on what had happened and he caught his breath and said, “Everything went perfectly. I knocked on the door, he answered, and I told him my mother had thrown me out.” Nicole asked how he reacted and Daniel continued with the story, “Okay, just let me finish. He told me it was ‘my problem’ and that I should leave. I decided to see how he’d react if I pleaded with him to just talk a while. He reluctantly invited me in for a few minutes and as I entered I kicked a chair over as if I was furious…he turned in surprise and that’s when I shot him.”
We anxiously awaited the rest of the events and at this particular point I envied Daniel for having been there and being the one to accomplish this. “Go on!” I demanded in an excited manner, much like some girl wanting to hear about her best friend’s evening at the prom. Daniel, still breathing rapidly and drying water from his face, continued, “I went back and retrieved the fingers which were in an old plastic bag I had taken from Lamb long ago and placed them in his utility closet. I then took the picture you had of the girl’s family and put it in his tackle box. Of course I also had placed Cindy’s finger in there as well but only after putting a small drop of her moist blood his jacket. Then I mixed some of Cindy’s blood with the blood of the girl and rubbed it into some crevices on the crowbar I he had so then, after wiping it, faint blood residue from both of them would still be there.” He then wrapped up the most ironic part of it all, “Lastly I poured some of the lamp oil on Lamb’s body and lit it. It didn’t spread since he had collapsed on a solid floor with that fake brick overlay. Then…” He sighed and seemed to choke up a bit, “...I crouched over and positioned Mark in front of me and…well then I put the gun down his throat and pulled the trigger, thus avoiding too much blood splatter.”
What he described would hopefully tell a story—a story about a man finding out that a colleague had killed the woman he might have been seeing. Then, shocked over having killed the perpetrator, he took his own life.
An odd thought came to my mind…I had a mental image of Mark laying there dead, blood flowing out of his body and onto the floor. It was such a waste—we could have had a great life together. He would have brought me such pleasure, perhaps even a sense of wholeness—and with his genes we could have had beautiful, intelligent children. Now that future was gone. Maybe because of wanting to distract my mind from my loss, or because I had created a ritual, a conditioned response to one of our deeds, I just blurted out, “Let’s go to the springs now!” They didn’t seem all that enthusiastic but I said that if I had to I’d go alone so they gave in—besides, it could give us more witnesses that we were just crazy, nature-loving, teens exploring springs and being in the wild all weekend. Another advantage of going would be to make plans for how to handle what would happen in the future once the bodies were discovered.
We would not got back home from the springs until the time most people get up on a Sunday morning. Mom asked me where I had been all weekend and I told her we’d been just playing around and soaking in the springs at night. She said we were crazy and reminded me of the serial killer. I said there had been three of us and she shouldn’t worry so much. Then I went into my room and passed out. Around 3 or 4pm she woke me up—she said the vice principal had called and something had happened at the school. He didn’t say what it was but that everyone needed to come to the auditorium by 7pm.
I ass
umed I knew what this was all about. This was really going to be big and our school would never be the same. I asked if anyone else had called but she shook her head no. I immediately called Nicole—she had just woken up and hadn’t heard anything yet. I said we had to make sure that we had our story straight, that we had been hiking in the woods and playing in the hot springs since Friday night in case anyone asked.
When everyone showed up at the school the principal was on stage with two policemen. He then said that two teachers had been found dead and that one was missing. We had agreed not to link up during the meeting that evening but to stay with our parents—we would also not be seen together Monday. The announcement was made and the audience was totally in disbelief. No details were given except the names of the teachers. At that many people in the audience gasped in disbelief as some yelled out, “No!” The representative of the police department urged calm and said that an investigation was underway and assured the parents and students that they would soon know all the details. The principal then said that students would meet in special classrooms based on their last names, and local psychologists and counselors would help students with the grieving process. That evening we called each other but none of us had been contacted by any police yet—a good sign.
On Monday I reported to the assigned room where a teacher and a psychologist greeted us and told us more vague details about the tragedy. The administration had hoped, I guessed, to try to maintain as much calm as possible but that would not be the reality. It was a circus, everyone was giving each other hugs, many were crying, the psychologist even had a box of teddy bears to give to students who wanted to get comfort. In a way it was a big comedy. The wild speculations of students, and even the teachers, only fueled the intensity of the atmosphere.
Later that day I was one of the students called in to talk with the police (as was Daniel and Nicole). We both told them that Mark was our debate coach as well as our psychology teacher and that we spent a lot of time together getting his assistance. Daniel was also asked about Lamb and, to his credit, he was able to fake sadness upon hearing of his death.
Few details had been given about the events so we were cautious about our answers. We were asked about the murders in our area, and if anyone had said anything about them. We all said that Mark had been interested in them from a psychological perspective and in the last week he had hinted that he had come upon something, but he would wait until he was sure before contacting the police. I also mentioned that Mark and Cindy had shared an interest in this case and that Cindy had even assigned a paper on investigating murderers. I said that Cindy had told me in private that Mark was onto something.
When I mentioned Cindy’s name the policewoman interviewing me sat up and her eyes went wide open. “So Miss Green and Mr. Lindberg were looking into this case together?” I answered that I thought they were, and that I had thought it was kinda amusing that a couple of teachers were trying to be amateur detectives—but I did note that Mark had a great interest in criminal psychology. She kept probing but I made sure she would only receive the information I wanted her to receive.
Daniel was asked more about Lamb than we were. The policeman there actually asked if Daniel know of any weird obsessions or behaviors that Lamb might have had. Daniel said he didn’t think so, not really, but that he had joked to him about bondage a few times. The policeman apparently shared the same interest level in that answer as my interrogator had shown with my story of the teacher detectives. Daniel was interviewed for almost three hours—that was longer than me, and I thought it took great restraint for two creative minds to not leak out anything beyond the agreed-upon story.
Later, I overheard several students discussing the questions the police had asked them. Other students were confirming that Lamb hated Mark and also that Mark and Cindy were good friends—a rumor soon developed that Mark and Cindy had been lovers. While I was a bit nervous, and obviously annoyed, it was great that things seemed to be developing as they were.
Of course, other rumors were spreading like wildfire—some were really strange, while others actually did involve Mark and Lamb getting into a fight to the death. Perhaps some student had a relative or friend in the police department, or at the hospital, who knows? Since nobody knew why such a fight might have occurred many of the theories were absolutely insane, others not so much.
Speculation was also developing about what happened to Cindy—some students believed she had killed Lamb and Mark and taken off. Nobody could reach her and nobody knew if she were alive or dead. It was total confusion and then, just after lunch, the principal announced that parents would pick everyone up in front of the school at 2pm.
When my mom met me I forced myself to break down in tears—it was a pretty good performance in front of dozens of students, as well as the news crews covering the event. My mom rushed me into the car and asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about. I tried to cast myself into the role of the “confused teenager in a crisis situation” and I played the role very well. I talked to her about how traumatic this day had been and how confusing it all was. She asked why I had declined to have her present when the policewoman talked to me, and I just said I felt I was old enough not to have anyone there—and since I didn’t really know anything why should I bother her?
I told her it would be hard to be in this environment, but at least I could rest during Christmas vacation. She then confessed that she and Gerald had talked about giving me the option of going to the community college and finishing up high school there. When I said I’d like that, but questioned if the school would approve, she said she would make absolutely sure the school not only would approve but pay the tuition as well—Gerald’s had a good friend who was an attorney and the school would probably be happy to do this rather than face a lawsuit over having an unsafe environment for students.
I called Nicole but we made sure not mention anything more about what was going on than we could have known if we truly were oblivious to the circumstances surrounding this case. This was just in case the police were monitoring our phone conversations. We could communicate our thoughts quite well anyway. We knew that the next several weeks would be full of anxiety—and while finding a police car in front of our house could happen, we hoped it would never come to that. This would be the first day of a long process—but the longer we escaped suspicion the better our odds the police would never find out what really happened.
Strange how I suddenly remembered my mom telling me of a woman she worked with who had become pregnant in her mid 40s for the first time. She went in for a test and they found some protein associated with a particular birth defect. She had to take another test to make sure the baby was okay but the results would take over 4 weeks. I now could relate to that woman’s situation. Each day could bring an end to my life as I knew it, but I hoped that like the baby who turned out healthy, my life would not take any horrific direction.
The next day the rumors seemed to crystallize into something close to the truth (our truth). People were assuming that Cindy was probably not alive since her car was still at her home and there was no evidence of flight. People also had formed a scenario, whether through creativity or more facts leaking out, that Mark had killed Lamb and since they knew that Mark and Cindy were friends that maybe Lamb was responsible for what had happened to Cindy. Hearing this I asked Daniel if we might consider an anonymous tip about the location of her body, but he didn’t think the risk of detection was worth it.
School just did not work that week. Assemblies with a local minister one day, psychologist specializing in grief the next, as well as big group therapy-style get-togethers had replaced regular classes. I was really getting tired of the psycho-babble and “feelings” seminar approach to this whole situation. I tried to not show my contempt however and did my very best to cry when it was necessary, and really try to get in touch with my inner self—well, at least pretend to. To me it was a farce, basically an army of blind people trying to explain the world to a
bunch of blind people. One particular lady seemed more a caricature from a 1960s hippie musical than a mental health professional. It was so easy to pull and push her any direction I wanted—at the end of the class she started crying and asked to hug me. Oh well, if it made her feel better.
Finally, by Friday afternoon, the police were ready with a press conference. They announced on a special news report that their preliminary findings suggested Lamb was indeed the person responsible for the disappearance and probable homicide of Cindy. Why hadn’t they been quicker to make the announcement? I would have loved to see everybody’s reaction to this during school. Now people had the weekend to sort this all out and by Monday there would not be any hysteria to observe. The police continued and said that preliminary evidence suggested that Lamb was now the prime suspect for the rash of killings over the past year and a half of young women. Apparently, Mark and Cindy had discovered something and the result was her death. Mark had maybe come to save her but was too late, and maybe, in self defense, shot Lamb and then…again speculation on their part…had become despondent and took his own life.
I went into the bathroom downstairs and laughed harder than I think I had ever laughed. Lamb was going to get the credit for a series of hideous crimes and we were going to be safe.
Melanie's Journey Page 27
