I tried to continue the story in proper order. “Well, I don’t know where Dorotea is. It’s weird because her aunt phoned her in missing, according to Craney.”
“So, Craney is lying, or Alda, or both!”
“Who knows,” I said. “I think Alda knows something. But I also think Dorotea suspected that someone phonied up the invitation.”
“Nah. She was so excited to go to her rich aunt’s. Don’t you remember?”
“Hold on, Katie. Let me put my thoughts together. Craney has a letter supposedly from Dorotea. She claimed the envelope reads ‘Ask Pina, in case of emergency.’ She hinted at its contents but wanted me to tell her what I imagined it said, so I would spill the beans on myself!”
“Sly witch!”
“Craney? Bitch is more like it,” I said. “I couldn’t see anything written on the envelope. She threatened that if I didn’t comply with her wishes, she would tell the cops that I had something to do with Dorotea’s disappearance and then reveal the contents of the letter.”
“You think it’s a bluff?’
“Maybe, but…but…I mean what if Dorotea didn’t go away? What if she made the peephole?” I felt my chest tighten and beads of sweat gather on my forehead. The more possibilities I imagined, the more anxious I felt.
I must have turned white because Katie leaned across the table to shake me, saying, “You need to eat something. Let’s stop for a minute.”
I welcomed the pause. The chili, which appeared on our table almost immediately after we ordered, tasted so comforting. The soft, understanding smile of our favorite waitress, Blanche, exuded compassion.
I took a deep breath. I needed to tell Katie the most important stuff. I managed a smile in Blanche’s direction. She wiped her hands on her apron and patted our shoulders as she backed away, leaving us to continue our story along with our soupy chili.
“Craney threatened to tell my mother about me. That was her final blow: the authorities and my mother. Or, if I comply, she would rave about me to my mother.”
“Tell your mother what?”
“C’mon, Katie. This is the real killer…about us. Craney’s words were, ‘All that I have learned about you.’”
There were a few moments of silence. Dishes banged in the background. Guffaws came from the dartboard area up front. I flipped through some of the real old songs and the country songs on the jukebox. I could be a local yokel here, didn’t have to be Ivy League. I could just hang out here in Andover.
Katie continued to try to make better sense of my story. “Craney said you would have to cater to her.”
“It was all sexual, and when I said I didn’t understand, she said she knew I did. This whole thing makes me sick.”
Katie made several attempts to speak, scrunching up her face each time worse than the time before. “Pin…what about the peeing?”
“She stood right outside the door while I peed. Please don’t make me explain more.” My head was almost on the table.
“Sorry. I’m just trying to figure out if she’d really do it. Seduce you, I mean.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding. Of course she would.” I had lifted my head and shot a hurt and befuddled look at Katie. “Don’t you get it?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. It’s just too much. And your mom? How crazy would she get?”
I closed my eyes and covered them with my hand. I started to choke on the words. “I think, I really do, she’d have a heart attack. I couldn’t live with that. And I’d be dead meat. Don’t know where they’d send me…a hospital…shock treatment.”
“Well, you couldn’t live with Craney pawing all over you, could you?”
“I just want to die,” I whispered.
Katie turned to see if anybody was around. The room was empty: too late for breakfast, too early for lunch. She reached for both of my hands.
“Sweetie,” she said. “Let’s call my father.”
“Yeah. But wait. The other thing…”
“More?” Katie shrieked.
“Alda. Alda asked me if I wanted her father to take care of Dorotea. Do you remember?”
“You mean the time you were joking about killing…was it Dorotea or Craney?”
“Yikes! I remember saying something like, ‘Yeah, if your dad only could…’”
“C’mon, Pina. You don’t think Alda took you seriously? Then why hasn’t her father taken care of Craney? Oops. I’m joking.”
“Quit it. I know it sounds crazy, but Alda was always saying her father would take care of everyone. And the scar on her neck, and, and…the witness protection program…”
“You don’t know that for sure. Her father wouldn’t really…”
“What about Dorotea’s dreams and the talk of guns and bad men?” I was working up a good sweat again. “I’ve got to talk to Alda.”
“And say what? ‘Oh, by the way, did your dad knock off Dorotea?’ But come to think of it, Dorotea was real shaky and sad the last few days. Do you think…?”
“What? I’m tired of thinking.”
“You know, she was giving stuff away. You know what the signs are.”
“Suicide? Aw, damn! Craney did say ‘in case of emergency.’ Nah, Katie, Dorotea was really charged up about her aunt’s.”
Katie gasped. “Maybe she had everything figured out, how to stop being Dorotea, the girl with no friends, no class, no courage. Maybe she found a way to get rid of that girl.”
“Maybe I should just run away.” I began to fantasize about Maine, hiding out in one of the dilapidated cabins of the old boys’ camp. Then I remembered: winter, no stoves, the lake frozen, no Katie…
“Where’d you go just now? Look at me,” Katie said. “You can’t just run away. C’mon, let’s do what we should have done from the start: ask my father and Joe for help.”
“I won’t ask him for anything else.” There it was again, my stupid pride. Katie was always telling me I was afraid I’d look weak if I accepted help. Hah! And now?
“Are you crazy? After all you went through to help clear his name in that murder investigation in Maine last summer?” Katie’s blue eyes flashed red.
“Yeah. I guess. What are you going to say?” I mumbled.
“Well, Craney has been on your case from the start. But then, there’s that book where she had your two names embossed.”
“Big deal.”
“The academic gown in your bed and the book about lesbians, and the peephole and the fire escape.”
“Can’t prove it.”
“And finally, she’s holding you hostage, claiming you’re responsible for Dorotea’s disappearance and threatening to tell your mother about us if you don’t comply with her wishes.”
“And her wishes? They could simply be ‘Play by the rules.’”
“Well, I’m going to say all that to my father and remind him of the rumor about Craney and the young instructor she seduced and then fired.”
“And?”
“Dammit, Pina, I’m trying to help. We’ve got to do something. Besides, maybe Joe, as a journalist, could track Dorotea down.”
“Maybe. And then Dorotea, in person, in the flesh, could accuse me of being a lesbian. Dead ends, all dead ends.”
“C’mon. We’re going.” Katie had strong-armed me and was leading my semi-limp body through the back and front rooms and out the door.
The cold air was like a snort of smelling salts. I was alert. Everything was clear now. I had to act. I wanted Katie, and I wanted my parents to be okay. The rest was, well, just the rest.
Chapter Forty-one
Doc and Joe
Katie literally dragged me the three icy blocks to the phone booth. We welcomed the shelter from the wind and the opportunity to stay close to each other without looking conspicuous.
Katie asked me if I wanted to speak to her dad. I was willing to answer questions via Katie, but I was sick of talking.
Up until then, Katie had acted like a whole cheering squad contained in one diminutive body. Although she
was only six inches taller than I was, she usually appeared much more slender. At times, it seemed a breeze could run away with her delicate body. Today, she had been my rock.
Her father’s private number was ringing. His deep, mellow voice said a resonant “Hello.” Katie managed to form the word, “Daddy” before she started to falter. I could hear her father shouting, “Katie, Katie, are you all right?”
I yelled, “We’re okay,” and wrapped my arms around Katie’s shoulders.
“Pina, what’s wrong?” Of course he recognized my voice.
I pinched Katie and shook my head. “You’ve got to do the talking.”
Katie took the last few sighs before starting the saga. “We’re okay, Dad, but we do need your help.”
“It’s Headmistress Craney.”
“No. Absolutely not. We’ve been discreet.”
“No, Katie, don’t.” I whispered.
“Well. Sort of. Two times, but no one was there. It was safe. We think.”
Oh, God, she did.
“It’s Pina. Miss Craney has been on her case from the beginning—said she was watching her like a hawk or something.”
I was embarrassed, but Katie was going to bat for me. It felt different coming from her mouth. I missed a few exchanges but really tuned in when I heard Katie say, “Daddy, I think she’s trying to molest Pina. She’s like a real lech.”
Katie stomped her foot.
“No, really, Dad. She’s done things.”
Her dad’s “What?” was so loud I could tell what he was thinking.
Katie continued, “She’s hidden stuff in Pina’s bed and books about lesbians in her room, but we can’t prove anything. Dad, there’s a lot more—Oh, did Joe ever research that rumor?”
“Yeah, the one about the young instructor.”
Katie held the receiver away from her ear and just stared at it.
“Dad. No, listen. I’m not exaggerating.” Katie had started to cry. She tried to get me to take the phone, but I refused.
“I’m scared, Dad. She’s threatening Pina and Pina, uh…Pina’s talking about running away. Daddy, she can’t.”
I attempted to mouth the words “I won’t; I promise.” I hadn’t realized how upset Katie was.
“I can’t go on here if Miss Craney kicks her out. And I can’t bear to see her hurt Pina. She’s threatened to tell Pina’s mother.”
“That she’s uh…well, you know. Well, with me—like you and Joe. Dangit, Dad, a lesbian!”
“Can she do that? But Pina just cares about her mother. She thinks her mom will have a heart attack. You know her mom, Dad. She’s so emotional.”
I rolled my eyes at Katie and pointed to my watch.
“Is it true they do shock treatment on lesbians?” Katie continued to grill her father.
I fired an imaginary gun at my temple.
“No. That can’t happen. I’ll run away with her. No. She’ll be…she’ll be ruined, dad.”
By now, Katie was staring at me and trying to get me to hold the phone, while attempting to smooth my hair at the same time. I was tearing up. The booth was dripping too with our breath and condensation and fogged on the other side. I kissed Katie on the forehead.
Katie finally answered her dad. “No. I promise we won’t do anything stupid. Miss Craney may be backing off right now. She actually gave Pina a week to decide.”
“What? Decide what, dammit?” Doc’s voice came through loud and clear.
Katie was doing as good a job as I had putting things in sequential order.
I finally grabbed the phone.
“Hello, Doc,” I said.
“What in the name of the good lord is going on?”
“Okay, Doc. I have until Mothers’ Weekend to decide to give in to her. She’s put her friggin, excuse me, hands all over my neck and my waist, and she’s looked at me like I’m naked. There, Doc, that’s what’s going on.”
“Look, honey, I know you tell it like it is, you always have, but I need you to slow down. Tell me what she’s done,” said Doc.
He was calm and organized, but his deep baritone always made me feel his warmth and caring.
“That’s just it. She’s only put her hand on my neck and around my waist. But…but…”
“Pina, that’s not right.”
“I uh…know, but…I can’t pull away from her. She raises her voice, stares in my eyes, and says stuff like ‘You understand what I want.’”
Doc’s moment of silence told me he had no immediate answers. I think he knew that too based on the way he mumbled, “You don’t have to take it.”
“Right. But…but she’s going to tell my mother, who will die of shame, if not of her heart condition. And I’ll die of a lobotomy.”
“Stop! I am sorry, I am truly sorry, Pina. We’ll find an answer.”
“Oh. Katie didn’t tell you. Her horrible roommate, Dorotea, has disappeared and Craney is threatening to tell the authorities I had something to do with it—which I didn’t.”
By now, my cheeks were burning hot. Katie grabbed the phone. She was under control now and told me to go take a walk in the fresh air.
I squeezed open the door and the moisture in my nose stung. The temperature must have dropped. I ran a few blocks to stay warm and to clear my head.
I came back to the booth in time to hear Katie telling Joe that Dorotea’s aunt lived in Watertown, Massachusetts, meaning that Dorotea would have changed buses in Boston. Joe could check with the bus authority.
I motioned to Katie that I wanted to speak to Joe.
“Hi Joe, I miss you,” I said.
“You too, ciccia. My dad sends his best.”
“Oh, is he visiting from Maine?”
“He was, but now we just spoke with him on the phone.”
“Good. I’ve been thinking about him too. Uh…Joe…I uh…”
“Say it, Pina. It’s okay.”
“Joe,” I started, not sure of how to ask this. “Do you think your dad knows somebody named Baciadalupo?”
“Just anybody, Pina? C’mon, toots, out with it. Remember you’re talking to Joe, Fifi Gallo’s son.”
“Yeah, but your dad’s not like that, anymore. Well, anyway, I wonder if this Baciadalupo is a tuff guy. I mean a real bad tuff guy.”
“Hm. Any more info?”
“Uh…maybe. Maybe they’ve been relocated.”
“Oh. So you’re asking me out of curiosity or asking me to put on my journalist’s hat or…”
“Would your dad get in trouble with the cops?”
“Can you tell me why you want to know?”
“He’s my roommate Alda’s father, and he might have had something to do with Dorotea’s disappearance. I think she may have seen something she shouldn’t have when she visited the Baciadalupo home.”
“Listen.” Joe’s tone was serious but warm. “You girls have to relax. We’ll figure something out.”
“Joe, I don’t want your dad, Fifi—”
“Not to worry. Boy Scout’s Honor.”
I giggled. I couldn’t picture small, handsome Joe as an Eagle Scout.
Doc got back on and yelled for both of us not to do anything crazy. He promised to get back to us really soon, maybe tonight.
First Katie, then I, we begged him not to contact Craney.
Katie grabbed the phone. “Dad, she’s really creepy. She’s not like the professional woman you had described to us. Please, promise.”
Judging from Katie’s repeating, “Promise,” I’m not sure he promised. The click of the phone sounded too dry, too final.
Katie became serious. “We’ve got to be really good at being super cool. Model students. Squeaky clean. My father will come through.”
Her pace was fast, business-like. As for me, I knew my business now was with Alda, at least for the moment. I had to find out what she had done.
Chapter Forty-two
Alda’s Lamp: Just Rub it the Right way
Katie and I worked our way back to campus, walkin
g at a snail’s pace to avoid the ice and to delay our arrival.
We had just cut some classes, and Katie wanted an excuse for missing science. Our instructor, Dr. Hermione Eisenberg, found Katie gifted in the sciences and willingly accepted her claim of having to nurse a sick student. Right now, I was the sick student. Usually, I supplied Dr. Eisenberg with the correct chemical formula for her daily dose of humor; she got a kick out of me. Katie and I received no demerits for missing the double lab.
Cleared that hurdle. Then I was solo. On my way to find Alda in our room, I crossed paths with Mademoiselle. I immediately broke into my best French. I was desolée, crest-fallen, I said, to postpone my French immersion program with Dorotea. She was so taken by my effusiveness, that she didn’t ask why I had cut class earlier that morning. I supplied the answer just the same; I had allegedly been searching for Dorotea. I actually beat my breast and intoned the French equivalent of mea culpa, “ma faute, ma faute, ma très grande faute.”
After that encounter, it was clear sailing to my room. I couldn’t wait to rip Alda’s head off. How dare she hurt Dorotea?
Whoa! I had to breathe. Once again, I had no proof. But again, I had no control. I had voiced a disgruntled wish, not a real desire for Dorotea to disappear. I didn’t mean it. Well, I did, but not like that.
Whatever had happened, whatever evil genie had granted this half-wish, I wanted to take it back. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Hmm. And here I wanted to decapitate Alda.
Damn. That thing that Katie said to me—that I didn’t like accepting help. Was it really that it made me look weak? Maybe it was just this feeling of being out of control. If Alda had done something, she took all control out of my hands. I didn’t have a clue what she had done to Dorotea.
Well, somebody did something, and that meant they did it to me too. Ha! And I was going to pay for it either way. Do it with Craney—I think I’d rather die. Kill my mother? And then, electrocute my brain in some hospital for the sexually ill.
By now, I had covered the length of the dorm hallway and I had my hand on the doorknob. How was I going to get Alda to confess, to tell the truth? Novel idea.
Love and Lechery at Albert Academy Page 14
