by Groves, B.
Should he call Pam and have her check on Gabby?
Dean tried to hide his distraction throughout the day. He cursed his bad luck with baseball practice after school.
On top of that, his classes were not paying attention to lessons today. All they wanted to talk about was the memorial and what happened to him and Gabrielle Ryan.
Some were bold enough to ask, and others whispered amongst themselves.
Dean patiently explained only what he wanted to say. It was fast coming up to his last break and rushed outside to call Gabby once again.
Again, all he got was her voicemail. Pressing the button in frustration, he looked up Pam’s number and dialed it.
“Hey, Dean!” Pam answered. He hated bothering her; he could tell she was busy with her baby.
“Pam. Have you heard from Gabby today?”
Silence for a moment and then, “No, Why?”
“I haven’t been able to get a hold of her,” Dean said.
“She took a long weekend, so she might be busy,” Pam said.
He didn’t know who Pam was trying to convince herself or both of them.
Pam was about to say something else when a beep came through Dean’s phone.
“Hang on,” he said.
He took the phone away from his ear and looked down at the message.
“Hi! Sorry. Been on the phone with clients all morning. Getting beat up over here. Don’t know if I will get through the day.”
Dean’s eyebrows came together. He thought that was an odd message from her, but at least he heard from her.
“Dean?” He heard Pam ask.
“Yeah, she said she’s been busy as hell today,” Dean said, but the doubts were still there.
He could hear the relief in Pam’s voice. “Oh, good. I better go.” Dean heard the baby crying in the background.
“Sure, Pam. I’ll talk to you later,” Dean said.
“Bye.”
Pam hung up her phone, and Dean stood there staring at Gabby’s message.
Dean had no other choice. At least he heard from her, but he wanted to tell her to word her messages better when he got home.
The ominous feeling was still coursing through him as his last class sat down for the day. Focusing on his lessons was impossible when the bell mercifully rang at the end of the day.
He decided he would call Gabby after the little talk he wanted to have with Molly Van Buren.
“Molly,” he said as the students cleared out.
Molly turned her frizzy head towards him. “Yes, Mister Walker?”
“Do you have time? I need to talk to you,” he said.
Molly’s eyes widened and Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re not in trouble. Do you have time to talk?”
“I have to get ready for band practice—”
“I’ll tell Mister Gregory it was me who held you over,” Dean interrupted.
“Okay,” she whistled through her braces. How she did that with just one word Dean would never know.
Dean pulled a chair up to his desk and beckoned for Molly to sit down.
Molly was stiff when she sat down, her face had gone pale. She held her books to her chest in a death grip.
Her eyes darted around the classroom, focusing on the world maps, as Dean settled back into his chair.
“You’re not in trouble,” Dean said with a smile trying to reassure the young girl.
“I was going to say,” she began. “I didn’t do anything.”
“No, you didn’t. You know what happened at the memorial, right?” He asked.
“Everyone does. Why?”
“I want to know what you thought.”
Molly shrugged. “My mom says it wasn’t right for that lady to show up.”
Dean nodded. “Many people feel that way.”
“Then, why did you help her?”
“She doesn’t deserve the hate she receives.”
“My mom says you helped her because of your friend,” Molly said.
“That’s true. I have another question for you. You know a lot about the school. You’re involved in a lot of activities… band… field hockey…”
Molly’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Yes.”
“Molly, is there something going on around the school you’ve heard about?”
Molly went even paler, and a thin line formed around her mouth.
“Molly? If you know something, tell me,” Dean urged. “Please. This will keep more people from being hurt.”
Molly set her books on his desk and stood up.
“Molly… “
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
“What? Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back, I promise,” Molly said.
Molly rushed out of the room before Dean could stop her. He looked down at her books and hoped she needed to come back for those.
One of his baseball team—Darren Johnson—came into the room.
“We’re ready,” he said.
“Give me a few minutes. I’m talking to a student,” Dean said to his catcher. “Start without me.”
“Mister Walker, we have games coming up—”
“Darren, I said start without me,” Dean said with a stern voice.
Darren looked around as if Dean lost his mind and left.
Molly then returned to the classroom, and this time she had someone else with her.
The girl was Molly’s friend Angela Coulter entered the classroom behind her.
Whereas Molly was loud, obnoxious, and know-it-all, her friend Angela was the complete opposite.
Dean found her to be a quiet, and introspective young girl. She mostly observed when he had her in class, but her grades were always stellar. She worked her best independently, and Dean always tried to highlight his students’ unique personalities.
It was a shock for him to see Molly bring her into the room.
Angela’s older brother—Brian—failed Dean’s class twice. He wouldn’t graduate this year, and Dean was surprised the kid hadn’t dropped out yet but knew he stayed for the girls.
Angela looked like she would faint and turned to Molly with a doubtful look.
Molly pushed her friend’s shoulder and said, “Tell him.”
Angela looked terrified and shook her head frantically. “I… I can’t. Mister Walker it’s nothing.”
Dean stood from his chair and leaned against the desk. He hated using an intimidating tactic, but this girl knew something terrible, and he was determined to make her talk.
“Angela,” he said. “You know something bad. I want to know what it is.”
Angela looked between him and Molly.
Tears filled her eyes, and she burst out crying in the middle of the classroom.
Dean nodded to the door, and Molly took the hint to close it behind her.
Dean leaned over and told Angela to sit down. He grabbed some tissues from his desk and handed the box to her.
“Angela? What is wrong?”
“Tell him what you told me,” Molly scolded her friend.
Angela leaned over and sobbed. “I can’t. He told me he’d kill me.”
Molly rolled her eyes, and Dean stared at her to stop.
“I don’t think anyone wants to kill you,” Dean said gently.
He knew teenagers that age could sometimes exaggerate their misfortunes. They were still trapped between holding onto to their childhood and accepting puberty. Hormones were out of control, and it was a nightmare dealing with them some days.
Angela nodded with gusto. “Yes, he did. He told me if I told anyone he would kill me. He was serious.”
“Who said that?” Dean asked getting upset at the threats against a young girl.
“My brother.”
“Why? Have you told your parents?”
Angela’s head flew up. “Oh God no! That would be even worse.”
“Why? Angela, I want you to know this conversation stays between the three of us,” Dean said.
“You’ll tell m
y parents,” Angela cried.
Dean turned to Angela sympathetically. “I won’t lie to you, and say I won’t talk to your parents, but you need to tell me what is happening in this school."
“What did you hear, Mister Walker?” Molly whistled.
Taking Robert’s words, Dean said, “I’ve heard about parties or something like that.”
Molly nodded enthusiastically. Hell, she was practically jumping up and down.
“See, he knows already, you have to give him the details,” Molly said to Angela.
Angela lowered her head in defeat. Her bright red hair covering her face as she sniffled into the tissue.
“It’s true,” Angela said, her head still lowered.
“What’s true?” Dean asked. “Don’t be afraid.”
Angela sighed and raised her head. The resignation played across her features. She was surrounded like an animal trapped in a corner, and there was no way out, she had to talk.
Dean narrowed his eyes as Angela turned from frightened into emotionless.
She gave Dean a steady stare and said, “There’s a secret club here.”
“A secret club?” Dean asked leaning back. All the rumors he heard over the years were just confirmed to him. How did this happen in this small town? How didn’t anyone notice? Why didn’t anyone—anybody speak up about this?
Angela straightened her shoulders and pushed her hair away from her face.
“My brother told me it’s been going on for years. They meet all the time. They drink, party, and do drugs,” Angela explained.
“Okay. How did you find out about this secret club?” Dean asked.
“He took me one night because my parents made him babysit me while they were away,” Angela said with fresh tears in her eyes.
“And, what happened?”
Angela moved uncomfortably in her chair. “We went to this place in the woods. An old house on a street near the shopping mall. It was spooky from the outside. All these students were there, just hanging out, and partying.”
“Is it abandoned?”
“It looked like it from the outside, but on the inside… it… was clean, but dark.”
“Were there many people there?”
Angela tilted her head in thought. “No. All I know is they kept staring at me, and then some guys kept telling my brother that I didn’t belong there. He got defensive and said he didn’t have a choice. Those guys scared me.”
“Do they go to school here?”
Angela nodded. “I recognized some of them.”
Angela looked towards Molly who nodded for her continue talking.
Angela swallowed. “There was a man…”
“A man? Like in a student or someone else?” Dean asked.
Angela swallowed hard. She turned her head to glance at Molly.
“Angela, you’re fine,” Dean reassured her.
Angela lowered her head in shame. She then sobbed into the tissue.
“I never saw his face,” she whispered. “He stayed in the shadows. Then…”
“Then what?” Dean asked gently.
Angela looked back up towards the ceiling. Her eyes were swollen and red. Her nose was irritated from wiping it with the tissue.
“A girl passed out. I don’t know who she was,” Angela said. “The guys they… they laughed at her. She was helpless. My brother turned to me and told me to keep quiet.”
Angela put a hand over her face and sobbed once again.
Dean leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Can you tell me the rest?” he asked.
Dean’s mind was reeling, but he needed to keep stoic for Angela. She was talking, but she was wound so tight, Dean knew the wrong move could make her bolt from the room any second.
Angela nodded and tried to gain her bearings.
“The man entered another room, and the boys lifted the girl up and took her inside that same room,” Angela finished.
“What happened to the girl? Do you know?” Dean asked.
Dean glanced at the clock. He became anxious. He knew he needed to report this but to whom? Was Michael the mysterious man? He wanted to call Gabby and tell her about this, but he needed more information.
“I begged my brother to leave, but he threatened to hit me if I kept bothering him. So, I sat down in a corner. They wanted to give me drugs, but I turned them down,” Angela continued.
Angela wiped the tears from her face. “I saw her come out of the room, she stared at everyone and then some other boy left with her,” Angela finished. “I’ve never seen her in school here. I don’t know what happened to her.”
“What happened after that?”
“The man said the night was over, and everyone had to go home. He said, ‘Next month we’ll get together again,’” Angela answered.
Dean sat back and thought for a moment. “Was this some kind of satanic ritual? Do you know what that is?”
Angela nodded. “I know, and I didn’t see anything weird like that. It was really dark, the walls were plain. The man kept in the shadows. Then my brother told me on the way home if I told anyone what I saw that night, they would kill me. He meant it too, Mister Walker,” Angela broke down and sobbed again.
Angela stood up and Dean embraced her. He tried to give her comforting words and looked over to see Molly raise her eyebrows at him.
Angela’s shoulders were shaking from her sobs, but Dean could feel the relief in her body.
“When did this happen?”
Angela pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Back in October. My brother has been there since I know it.”
“You’ve been keeping this secret the whole time?”
“I told you, my brother said if I told anyone they would find me and kill me,” Angela said.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Dean said. “You need to tell your parents.”
Angela looked doubtful, and the fear returned to her eyes. “Can’t you do something Mister Walker?”
“That was my next question,” Dean said. “Do you remember any other street name or a landmark?”
Angela placed a finger to her lips and tapped for a few seconds. “We only moved here when I was twelve. I don’t remember the street, but I remember some kind of car repair place, then a house in the back.”
This caught Dean’s attention. He sat up straight, and the breath left his lungs.
Abandoned house. Dean’s memories came pounding into his head from his early childhood on.
Jake and him exploring Jake’s heavily wooded property because they were bored one day.
They walked to the rundown building. “My dad’s going to turn that into a rental when he gets out,” Jake said.
“Angela.” Dean shook his head. “How big was this place? Was there a small dirt road that led to it?”
Angela nodded. “Yes, we went down a small dirt road, more like a driveway.”
Dean had to take a few deep breaths to gather his thoughts.
Dean turned back to Angela with determination in his voice. “Angela, please I’m begging you to tell your parents what you saw that night. Have them call the police.”
“Can’t you do that Mister Walker?” Molly asked confused.
“I have to go see someone first. Can I count on you girls to tell someone? Not here,” Dean reiterated. “Go home and tell your parents.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Angela said with fear chipping away at her voice.
“She can. I’ll go with her,” Molly said lifting her chin.
Dean smiled. “Molly, how did I get so lucky with you?”
He stood when Molly grinned from ear-to-ear. “I have to see someone now. You guys keep this quiet until you get home.”
“Why do you want us to keep quiet here?” Molly asked.
Dean looked towards the closed door. “I’m not sure if I have the right person, and I want to be certain.”
Both girls gasped. “Be careful, Mister Walker,” Angela said with fresh tears.
/> Dean bent down to be face to face with her. “I will, but please get home and tell someone.”
Dean rushed out of the classroom and into the hallway.
He turned the corner of the deserted school. Only the echoes of after school activities filled the halls.
“Dean,” Michael said coming out of his office. “Can we talk?”
Dean turned and looked back to Michael. “Can this wait?”
Without waiting, Dean ignored Michael’s answer and tried his cell phone.
He called Gabby about five times before getting to his truck. His heart rate picked up, and his worry over her well being worried him sick.
“Gabby! Call me!” He yelled into the phone, before throwing it on the front seat in frustration.
That ominous feeling came over him like a tidal wave. Something was not right; he could feel it in the deepest, the darkest pits of his soul. He cursed himself. He should have waited. He should have listened to his instinct and check on her first.
There was something not right with that earlier text.
Dean knew if he called the police they would blow him off for now. Not enough time passed for anyone to take anything seriously.
He could be worrying for nothing, but he wasn’t.
Dean made it home in record time, thanking God he wasn’t pulled over.
He somewhat relaxed when he spotted Gabby’s car in the driveway.
Gabby had given him a spare key, and he knew the code to the alarm.
Dean jumped out of the car and ran up to the house.
He unlocked the door and walked in.
Silence greeted him.
“Gabby?” He called as he pushed the buttons to disarm the alarm.
He frantically looked around, and then what he saw next made sweat form on his brow, and his stomach heaved.
Gabby’s paintings were turned over. Her laptop lay on the floor, broken into pieces. Her office chair pushed off to the side.
“Gabby!” Dean cried.
Dean ran down the hallway and checked every room. She wasn’t there.
He stood in the middle of the living room, running a hand through his hair.
Taking heavy breaths, he could tell there had been a struggle.
Was he too late? Oh God, what was he going to do?
Dean looked up to see Margo’s music box. He hadn’t realized it was playing on its own again.
This time the tune seemed to call him. The ballerina was turning fast, and the song kept skipping over notes.
