by Kathi Daley
“No. I plan to put on some soft music, pour myself a robust cabernet, and curl up with my history book. Big test tomorrow. Did you forget?”
Chelsea rolled her eyes. “No, I didn’t forget, and there’s no way you would know one kind of wine from another. But seriously, you should blow off your homework and come with me. We both know we’re never going to need to know all the stuff this school crams into our brains.”
Trevor tilted his head and smiled. “I may not need to know it, but I do need to pass the class, and so do you. I seem to remember you flunked the last test. Two in a row won’t look good on your transcript.”
“I figure if I blow the test I’ll just pay Randy Banks to do one of Mr. Evans’s fascinating extra-point assignments.”
“Randy Banks does people’s homework?” Trevor asked, interest evident on his face.
“For the right price.”
Trevor raised a brow. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. But I think I’ll do things the old-fashioned way tonight and study.”
Chelsea shrugged. “Whatever. It seems like all you do anymore is sports, homework, and hang out with your loser friends.”
“You know we can hear you, right?” Alyson turned to Chelsea.
“Yeah, so? I swear, you guys spend more time in libraries than you do at the mall. Your social ranking has taken a real nosedive the past few months.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Alyson tried to hide her smile. “I was so hoping to be prom queen this year.”
“Oh please. To be prom queen you have to be popular, like me. You have to have real friends and be involved in school activities, like cheerleading and student council.”
“Chelsea, you’re not on student council,” Mac reminded her.
“No, but I dated someone on student council. It’s practically the same thing.”
Alyson turned around, trying not to laugh. Chelsea really took her social standing seriously. If she’d only funnel that energy into something more productive she’d be president one day.
“So, Trev, about the rally today…” Chelsea returned her attention to Trevor.
“There’s a rally today?”
“Of course, silly. Fourth period, remember? The cheerleaders are going to rock the school. I know you can’t have forgotten. I’ve been talking about it all week.”
“Oh, yeah, that rally.”
“You’re coming, aren’t you?” Chelsea pouted.
“I guess I’ll have to,” Trevor answered. “I’m on the baseball team; I guess afternoon pep rallies are the price for athletic superiority.”
Chelsea frowned. “You make it sound like such a chore. The cheerleaders have been working really hard. I’d think you guys would be more appreciative of what we do.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be there with bells on. Mac? Alyson? You guys coming?”
“For the chance to see you sporting bells? You betcha.” Mac smirked.
******
The pep rally was held in the gym. Someone had hung blue and gray streamers from the rafters and giant speakers were placed strategically around the room.
“At least we got out of class.” Alyson sat down on the wooden bleacher next to Mac. “I got a text message from Jessica and called her on the way over. She remembered something from the party—or at least she thinks she did. She’s not sure if it’s a memory or a dream, but she had this flash of a shirt. It was blue, with some sort of gold symbol on the chest.”
“What kind of symbol?”
“She wasn’t sure. She said it was like a cross or an X. It was like a flash of memory, nothing more.”
“Well, there are a lot of blue shirts in here, considering the Pirates’ colors are blue and gray. Do you see anyone wearing something with a gold symbol?”
Alyson looked around the gym. At least half the school was wearing blue today. After the varsity team was seated, the junior varsity team filed in, followed by eight guys in blue shirts with gold swords crossed on their chests.
“Blue shirt with a gold symbol.” Alyson pointed. “Who are they?”
“The fencing team. I heard they’re going to do a demonstration. They’re trying to give some authenticity to their sport.”
“That must be the shirt Jessica remembered.” The varsity coach began to announce the team as Alyson dug a notebook out of her backpack. “Do you know their names?”
“Let’s see; the guy on the very end on the left is Ron Bramerman. The one with the blond hair three over to his right is Carl Langford, and that’s Ben Turner next to him.”
“I know Ben. He’s in our history class.”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Isn’t that Preston Winkle?” Alyson asked Mac. “The guy in the yellow shirt near the door.”
“Yeah, that’s him. You don’t think the rumors are true? Because if they are, ew.”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
“Oh, look, the fencing team is up. I didn’t even know we had a fencing team until I heard they were doing the demonstration today.”
“I’m not sure it’s all that popular a sport,” Alyson said. “Although they’re pretty good.”
“I heard they won some championship or title this year. I guess it’s only fair they get a little recognition.”
“As soon as they’re done, I’m going to sneak out to see if I can catch Ben. Maybe he knows which of his buddies went to Tommy’s party.”
“Okay. See you at lunch.”
As soon as the fencing team filed off the stage, Alyson made her way through the throngs of students who were rocking out to the cheerleader’s newest dance routine. Luckily, Ben was hanging out near the back of the gym, watching the show.
“Hey, Ben.”
“Oh, hi, Alyson.”
“I caught your show. You guys are really good. I had no idea we even had a fencing team.”
“Most people don’t; that’s why we did the demonstration. It’s a really physical sport; most people don’t realize.”
“Plus you get to wear those nifty shirts.”
“Yeah, they are cool, aren’t they? One of the guy’s moms designed them last summer. We’ve been wearing them all year, every day we have a meet, but I bet this is the first time you’ve even noticed.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid it is. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t get into the sport for the popularity.”
“This is going to sound like a strange question, but did you have a meet on the day of Tommy Bilson’s party?”
“Yeah. A couple of the guys went after we got back. We had a meet in Portland. We won, put us in first place in the state.”
“Congratulations. Do you happen to remember who might have gone?”
“Carl Langford went, and I think Rick Grimes. I’m not sure who else. Personally, I’m not in to the whole party scene.”
“I hear yah.”
******
The trio met at their regular table for lunch. Trevor had talked to Jason, who’d been one of Tommy’s bartenders, during history. He said he and a couple other guys were mixing drinks, mainly rum and Cokes, and lining them up on the counter. He swore he knew nothing about any drugged beverages.
Trevor had a similar conversation with Jim and Victor and got a similar answer. They mixed three drinks: rum and Coke in blue cups, rum and Diet Coke in red ones, and rum and orange juice in yellow ones. A few of the partygoers had brought their own alcohol—mainly vodka and tequila—so the guys made other drinks on request. Victor told Trevor he’d seen a group smoking pot in the backyard; as far as he knew, that represented the only drugs at the party.
“What now?” Mac asked.
“I’m going to have a little talk with Preston as soon as I finish my salad,” Alyson revealed. “You guys ask around and see if you can get the names of any of the guys who went upstairs. Someone had to have seen something.”
“You don’t really think Preston could be the father of Jessica’s baby, do you?” Trevor tore
open a ketchup packet and squeezed the contents on his hamburger.
“I doubt it, but I think we need to find out for sure. If he did take advantage of that poor girl while she was passed out he’s going to wish he hadn’t bragged about it after I get through with him.”
“Wow, Alyson, your testosterone’s showing.” Trevor salted his fries.
“You know it! I gotta go. Mac, let’s meet after school, and Trevor, I’ll see you after you get back from your game. Good luck, by the way. We’ll have a celebratory dinner at my house.”
“I’ll bring Mexican,” Trevor volunteered.
“Thanks, that’d be great.”
Preston wasn’t hard to find. He was sitting in the middle of the student square, surrounded by a gaggle of nerds of equal stature, bragging about the details of his night of sexual conquest.
Alyson straightened her spine and held her head up high as she marched over to where they were sitting. “Preston, can I have a word with you?”
Preston winked at her, which was a move he couldn’t pull off as anything more than pitiful and creepy. “Sure thing, honey. Come for a little of the Prestonator? Dates are stacking up, but I’m sure I can get you on the list. Say Friday?”
“Say now.” Alyson grabbed his scrawny arm and pulled him toward the metal shop.
“Ow, that hurts.”
“If what you’re telling people is true, you’ll have a fond memory of this moment as the one preceding the excruciating pain.”
“Excruciating pain? What’d I ever do to you?”
“Nothing yet.” Alyson stopped walking and turned to face her prey. “I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to tell me the truth. Did you sleep with Jessica Henderson at Tommy’s party?’
Preston looked confused. “You’re mad about that? That I slept with Jessica? I didn’t figure you for the jealous type.”
Alyson put her hands on her hips. “Just answer the question. Did you sleep with Jessica?”
“Yeah, I slept with her.”
Alyson twisted his arm behind his back. “Are you sure?”
Preston let out a little yelp before answering. “Why, did she tell you I didn’t? ’Cause if she did maybe she’s the one who’s lying. She has her Goody Two-shoes reputation to protect.”
Alyson bent his arm just a little further. “Jessica didn’t tell me anything, but I know she was raped while she was passed out cold. Whoever did it is most likely going to go to jail for a very long time.” Alyson wasn’t certain this was actually true, but the threat of jail time had the intimidation factor she was looking for.
“Raped?” Preston paled. “I didn’t know; I swear.”
Alyson let go of Preston’s arm, but she maintained her stance close to his suddenly limp body. “I know you may be inexperienced, but even you would know if a girl was conscious or not while you were having sex with her.”
Poor Preston looked like he might cry. “I didn’t have sex with her. I swear. I’ve never had sex with anyone.”
“Then why are you telling people you’re the father of her baby?”
“Have you seen me?” Preston stretched his arms out so Alyson could get a good view. “I’m a total nerd. I thought being the mystery father everyone was talking about would make me cool.”
“God, Trevor was right. Guys are sick.” Alyson took a step back and raised her eyes in disgust.
“Hey, I told you the truth. I didn’t have sex with Jessica. You’re looking for someone else.”
Alyson lowered her gaze and looked him in the eye once again. She put her arm through his and gave it a squeeze. “I know. But now I need you to make a promise. Not everyone knows Jessica was raped and I don’t want it getting out. Tell anyone about this conversation and you’ll be wearing a sling to school.”
“I won’t say a word. I swear.”
“Oh, and you can tell your buddies out there that you were just kidding about the impending paternity thing.”
“I will.”
Alyson let his arm go.
“You’re really strong. You look so small.”
“I work out a lot. I’m proficient in several of the martial arts too. I wouldn’t mess with me if I were you.”
“I won’t. Believe me, I won’t.”
Preston turned away, but Alyson stopped him. “Before you go…There was a group of guys hanging out in Tommy’s room during the party. Did you happen to see any of them?”
Preston nodded. “Talk to Derek Gordon. I’m pretty sure I saw him go upstairs.”
“Thanks; I will.”
Alyson looked at her watch. The bell was going to ring any minute. Her conversation with Derek would have to wait. On her way to her locker, she saw Carl Langford, from the fencing team, coming out of the library.
“Carl.”
“Yeah?”
“My name is Alyson. I’m a friend of Ben Turner’s. I know this is going to sound weird, but I’m trying to help a friend who went to Tommy Bilson’s party. Were you there?”
“Yeah, me and a couple of the guys stopped by after our meet.”
“Do you remember seeing Jessica Henderson there?”
“Yeah. She was really wasted. I was kinda surprised. I’ve seen her at other parties, and she never seemed like much of a drinker. I hear she’s pregnant, which I also wouldn’t have guessed. You never really know people, huh?”
“Did you talk to her at all?”
“No. I think she went upstairs not long after we got there. We didn’t stay too long, but I don’t remember seeing her come down.”
“Do you mind telling me who else from the team went with you to the party?”
“Just Rick Grimes, Tony Wallace, and Josh Harding.” The bell for fifth period rang. “Sorry; I gotta get to class. Hope that helps.”
******
Alyson met Mac after she finished school and Mac finished her internship and together they headed to Booker’s. Alyson supposed it might seem odd to a casual observer that a couple of teenagers spent so much time hanging out at the home of a retired librarian who was older than their grandparents. But Booker was smart and funny, and he seemed to really enjoy helping them with whatever mystery they were investigating at the moment. He spent a lot of time doing research, which was something they didn’t particularly want to do.
“I talked to Preston,” Alyson said as she drove along the coast road. “He’s not the father of Jessica’s baby.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“He did give me the name of someone he saw go upstairs: Derek Gordon.”
“I know him. He’s a lowlife who hangs out with a bunch of other kids just like him behind the strip mall. He was caught gambling last year and suspended for a week. And I once saw him shooting bottle rockets at stray cats. I hate to say it, but he’s definitely the type to rape an unconscious girl.”
“I’ll have to have a little talk with him tomorrow.”
“Be careful; he’s kind of a bully. Maybe you should have Trevor do it.”
“Don’t forget about my martial arts training.”
“I know. You’re a badass, but seriously, Derek is a real bully.”
“Okay, I’ll take Trevor with me when I talk to him. I also talked to Ben Turner, who directed me to Carl Langford. Seems Carl and three other guys went to the party right after they got back from their meet in Portland. It would stand to reason they still had their team shirts on, especially if they’re all as proud of them as Ben seems to be.”
“Did Carl see Jessica?”
“He said he did, but he didn’t talk to her. He said he saw her go upstairs, but he didn’t remember seeing her come down again. I’m going to try to talk to Rick, Tony, and Josh as soon as I get the chance. Maybe one of them saw something. Or even talked to Jessica that night.”
Chapter 9
As usual, Booker had coffee and pastries on the coffee table. If there was one thing you could count on when visiting him, it was being welcomed and fed.
“Did you find a pic
ture?” Alyson jumped right in as soon as they settled in.
“It took a while, but I managed to come across an old photograph of the portrait that hung in the Lincoln house in a book about local history.” Booker handed Alyson the large picture book. “She was quite young and pretty. And she looked a lot like you.”
Alyson looked at the photograph of the young woman with long blond hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and a trim frame. “Yeah, but not exactly like me. The face I saw last night was my own. All the dead girls have a similar build and coloring. Do you think they all saw their own face?”
“It would explain the intensity of their obsession.” Booker sat down on the sofa. “I must say, this whole thing is starting to worry me. All the other girls in this little drama ended up dead.”
“I know, but I’m being careful. And with my past experiences, I’m not as easily shaken as they were. Besides, I have Mac and Trevor attached at the hip during every waking hour. I’ll be fine, but I’d really like to figure this out to stop the cycle. Did you find anything else?”
“Yes, a diary. It seems the town gossip at the time of Mrs. Lincoln’s death wrote everything down for posterity. And I mean everything. There are endless pages full of torrid affairs, scandalous occurrences, and tons of speculation. In the middle of all the garbage, there are several enlightening passages concerning our own cast of characters.”
“Like what?”
“I marked the pages.” Booker handed Alyson the diary, yellowed with age.
Whitney Lincoln showed up at Amelia’s ladies’ today. I can’t believe she had the nerve to show her face in that household. There has been speculation for months that Whitney is having an affair with Amelia’s husband, and right under her own nose. The little harlot has bedded half the men in town, and the other half she just hasn’t gotten around to yet. I see the way the men in this town look at her. They undress her with their eyes as she parades around like a trollop in dresses that fall well above her ankle. If her husband wasn’t so rich, the good women in this town would have driven her out long ago.
