"There is one problem," Dorothy replied. "This student is not female but a young man a little older than yourself."
Courtney glowered but stopped and reread the page in front of her. She glanced at the dean and bit her bottom lip. "Can you tell me about him?"
"Like your history, his details are confidential. I can say, though, that like you he is a victim of abuse and does not trust males. Unfortunately, he hasn't had three wonderful friends to help him and has become quite a loaner. I assure you he is a gentle young man who needs a friend."
"Is he gay?"
"No. If you are prepared to meet him but don't want to be his buddy, you can walk away. Once again, this will be no reflection on you. There are several other girls I could buddy him with but I think you are the best."
"Why?"
"Your personality, Courtney. You are bright and outgoing. I know you are already one of the most popular girls in your home class."
"Am I?" Courtney smiled for the first time in half an hour. "I didn't realize."
"You can provide the friendship Ken needs at the moment."
Courtney paused. She didn't know any student by that name, not that this was unexpected. There were four home classes in the high school section of Northside Community College with a total of a hundred students.
"I'll meet him but promise you nothing. I'm not comfortable with guys."
"They aren't all chauvinistic, sport crazy, girl-chasing beer guzzlers, Courtney. Ken is none of these."
"Okay."
"Good, I'll see if Ken agrees and get back to you. Meanwhile, please keep everything we said confidential." The dean stood. "Your grades and assignments to date are excellent. You are a most welcome student here. Thank you."
The interview was over. Courtney shook hands and walked out with mixed but mainly confident feelings to find a friend waiting.
"Hi, Linda," she said.
"You were in there forever," the other high school senior replied. "How was Granny? I've got my interview tomorrow."
"Fine," Courtney replied, "but I'm famished. Let's head for the cafeteria."
The two walked down the corridor, chatting as they went. In her short time at Northside, Courtney had made a circle of friends. Her earlier fear that she'd be a year older than everyone hadn't materialized. Only Linda and a handful of others were younger. The students ranged from their late teens to Renee's or even Lem's age. When one is eighteen, thirty is truly ancient.
****
That afternoon at four, the weather was terrible. A northerly squall hit Seattle with hail and sleet. It pelted the campus. Though she didn't expect him, Courtney looked across the car lot in case Lem's Cadillac was there. It wasn't and she was about to head out to the bus when she heard a toot.
"Renee." She laughed when she saw the Cavalier a few yards away. "Come on, Linda, we've got our ride."
She ran to the auto and flung the passenger door open. "You can drive Linda to her apartment, can't you?" she said and without waiting for an answer, dived into the back.
"Sure. Hop in, Linda, before you get soaked," Renee said. She drove in bumper-to-bumper traffic toward home.
"How come you're here?" Courtney asked.
"I had a client to see in Seattle, so worked it out. I didn't have to make an extra trip."
"Renee's a top criminal lawyer," Courtney said proudly to Linda. "I'm going to study law next year."
"Are you?" Renee replied.
"And why not?" Courtney retorted. "Don't you think I can?"
Renee laughed. "Courtney, I'm sure you can, as long as you don't chatter all the time."
"She does, doesn't she?" Linda added in a soft voice. "It was like a bombshell hitting our class when she bowled in."
"Oh, shut up," Courtney retorted and continued to chatter about her interview. She did not mention being budded up to a male student.
****
After dropping Linda off, Renee drove home to the apartment. With Dad and Diane firm companions, it hadn't been as difficult as she had expected to tell him she was going to live with Lem in Seattle. Courtney would stay with them.
So for the last month, their lives were reversed. They spent the week in Seattle and the weekend on the farm. Lem and Courtney insisted on accompanying her home and it worked out well. As long as she gave herself plenty of time, even the daily trip up the interstate wasn't too bad, since most traffic traveled in the opposite direction.
"So what else happened in your interview with the dean?" she asked.
"How do you know there was more?"
"Just a guess," Renee responded. "But there was, wasn't there?"
"Yeah. I was a cot case again and bawled like an idiot."
"So what?" Renee shrugged. "I'm sure Doctor Infield understood."
"She couldn't be better," Courtney admitted. "I didn't intend telling her what happened but it sort of slipped out."
"And how do you feel now?"
"Better but she's paired me with a guy. I should have refused."
"Has she?" Renee's eyebrows shot up.
"Yeah." Courtney told all about the buddy scheme.
"It sounds like a good idea. Linda seems a nice girl, too. You're getting quite a group of friends."
"Linda had the same problem as me," Courtney added. "Worse actually. She had an abortion a few weeks back."
"The poor kid."
"Yeah," Courtney said in a hushed voice. "She's only sixteen. Doctor Infield said I was lucky to have you and Lem and I agreed. Seeing some of the other students made me realize how fortunate I am. You know, two girls in my class are pregnant and one is a paraplegic. She broke her spine in a car accident not a lot different from the one I was in."
"I think we're all fortunate," Renee said. "We could have been killed or seriously hurt in that cave."
"So how's the ankle?"
"It aches in this cold weather but isn't too bad. I tire if I walk too far."
"We help each other, remember."
Renee glanced at her young friend, smiled and switched her attention back to driving. They would be home in twenty minutes and she couldn't wait to get there. Her ankle ached like a throbbing tooth and had all day. This was the real reason she was back early. Annette had insisted she go home and take Friday off.
****
When Courtney saw the nametag and walked up to Ken Freidhurst in the tutorial room, he was completely different from her mental image of a short runt of a kid in horn-rimmed glasses. The youth was well over six feet tall, slim, had a mop of dark hair above a clean-shaven face and was dressed in casual clothes.
"Hi Ken," she said in an unusual husky voice. "I'm Courtney Howlett, your new buddy. I guess you were given my name."
Ken nodded. "Hello Courtney." He waved at the guide sheet all the students had been given. "I guess we'd better get on with it."
They sat at a table and went through the questions. After ten minutes Courtney threw her hands up in horror. "What a load of old crap," she said in exasperation. "This is worse than back at school." She shoved her paper over at the boy. "Look, fill in the bits about yourself that you want to tell me and I'll do the same with your paper and let's talk about something interesting."
"Like what?" Ken replied in a hesitant voice.
"Hell, I don't know," Courtney retorted. "What do you like in life?"
"Cars, computers, hiking..."
"Well, that's a start. Have you seen Lem's Cadillac? He's my best friend's partner."
"That pearl white one that cruises in on wet mornings?" Ken's eyes lit up.
"Yeah." Courtney laughed. "Lem drops me off on wet days." She shrugged. "That's most days at this time of the year, isn't it? What sort of car have you got?"
"An old Mustang. It's bit of a heap but all I can afford. I'm fixing it up."
"Oh, my God. I love Mustangs." Actually, she wouldn't know one if she tripped over it.
Ken glanced at her and broke into a smile. "You're different from what I expected."
"How?"
"Just different. The girls here talk about designer clothes, labels and boys."
Courtney tossed back her blonde hair and studied her fellow student. For a male, he seemed pleasant. "Is your Mustang out in the lot, Ken?"
"Yeah. Do you want to see it?"
"I'd love to." Courtney gathered up their questionnaires only half completed, tossed them on the lecturer's desk and headed for the door. "You'll get wet." Ken towered above her.
"Who cares," Courtney said with a shrug. "I've got a jacket."
****
After that day, Courtney found she enjoyed Ken company and along with Linda they spent hours together doing things teenagers enjoy. It was a loose arrangement with no demands. Courtney had no idea what Ken's problems were, nor did she tell him of her own. They were friends who trusted society again.
One evening Renee returned home from work to find it was Linda cooking supper, while Ken chatted with Lem about a new computer software program and Courtney was on her bed reading. Lem and Renee's apartment became home for them all and a place to hang out away from the sterile dormitory of Northeast Community College where the other two lived.
"The apartment's getting too small," Lem shouted later that night above the roar of heavy rock music screaming from the living room compact disk quad speakers. "I had forgotten how much space teenagers take over."
"So you'd rather be by yourself in your solitary apartment," Renee said and flung her arms around his neck.
"I didn't say that," Lem replied and kissed her salty lips. "But there must be a happy medium somewhere. What I need is my house back. Perhaps I could do a straight swap with Nikki."
****
CHAPTER 17
The woman placed the camcorder on a tripod, adjusted the lens to view the living room couch and set a ten second delay. She squinted through the viewfinder one more time and limped to the seat as recording began.
Nikki Erksberg rubbed her hand over a blackened eye, down a broken cheekbone and fingered a cut lip. But she was determined and for perhaps the first time in a week, cold sober.
"Lem," she said and wiped her bloody lip again. "This video is to right some of the wrongs and to explain. I hope you forgive me, even though I find it hard to forgive myself." She swallowed, pushed back a strand of hair and gazed at the green light of the camcorder. "I look a sight, don't I? Patrick McQuilkin's threats turned into reality, I'm afraid. Last night he attacked me." Her lip quivered and she held her blouse up to show a dark blue rib cage. "His boot caused that," she whispered and continued speaking in short sentences to describe the violent beating.
"I have two weeks to find another hundred thousand dollars, or he'll come back and finish the job." She coughed, extracted a handkerchief and wiped blood from her lip, before her eyes focused on the lens. "But he won't ever touch me again, Lem, I can assure you that.
"'What happened?' you may ask. It was only a few days after I moved in with this monster that I found he was not the man I thought. I tried to cope in my usual way and gambled my savings away and more. Patrick paid my debts but after we broke up, demanded his money back. I never had the money, Lem. The extra I received when you bought out my shares in the factory would have just about cleared them."
Nikki attempted to smile but it became a scowl. "However, as you know, there was that shortfall when the value dropped. I blamed you at the time but now realize it was beyond your control. I would never have sold to Allied Pacific Manufacturing. I love our company too much to throw everything away. So what have I done? I declared myself bankrupt, so this wonderful house my video is being filmed in, the home we built together, is safe. I also updated my will. The house is yours, Lem, along with the few other personal items I still own. The necklace Patrick tried to get back was given to me. If you ever find it, it comes under the personal property category in the bankruptcy act, so he can't touch it…"
The woman continued speaking in a clear, precise voice with only brief stops to sip from a small glass of water or dab her bleeding lip. Finally, she smiled at the camera. "Have a good life, Lem. Renee, if you're watching this video, look after him. He is a wonderful man. I found that out when it was too late. I love you, Lem and always did. Please forgive me for what I am about to do but I don't want to carry on."
Nikki clicked the remote, the green light darkened and her repose dissolved. With tears streaming down her swollen face she stood and walked over to the liquor cabinet.
Shaking hands found the last bottle of gin, two mouthfuls were gulped down and she went to complete her assignment. She reached for a tiny sheet of scented yellow paper, wrote a brief note to Lem and tucked it in with the original video.
It was done.
Nikki put on a thick coat, gloves and a scarf. She methodically checked the house, set the alarm, locked the door and walked out to her car that waited in the drive.
Without looking back, she drove down the road, dropped her two packages off at a mailbox and headed for the interstate. It was a clear, cold afternoon and the winter sun dazzled her eyes, as she turned west. Nikki shrugged. One more inconvenience wouldn't affect her much longer.
****
She took the interchange from I-5 to I-90 over the floating bridge and headed east out of Seattle. Once a dozen miles beyond the urban area, traffic thinned sufficiently for her to achieve her objective.
She wiped her painful eye, reached for that ever-faithful bottle of gin and took one last mouthful. For a moment she savored the rich, tantalizing taste and swallowed.
"I'm sorry, Lem," she said as she pulled to the fast lane and accelerated.
The modern automobile held the road well but floated when the speedometer touched ninety-five. In her last warped piece of determination, the woman wanted to reach a hundred. Her eyes glued on the road ahead and the dial edged over… ninety-eight, ninety-nine. Yes, one hundred.
A twenty-six-wheeled semi-unit swept into view on the adjacent lane. This would do.
Without hesitation Nikki Erksberg swung her vehicle across the lane, the outside wheels lifted and dropped with a shudder but she gripped the steering wheel and maintained control.
The huge silver vehicle towered in front. Nikki laughed in that last microsecond of her life when she noticed the speedometer hover on one hundred and five. Methodically, she steered the auto into the rear of the Mack semitrailer.
****
Lem answered the door of his apartment to find two police officers standing in the foyer.
"Mr. Lem Erksberg?"
"Yes, Officer," Lem replied with anxiety. Renee still had not arrived home from Mount Vernon and ominous visions raced through his mind.
"Can we come inside, Lem?" The second officer, a woman about Renee's age spoke in a quiet professional voice.
"Of course." Lem showed the pair to the living room where Courtney was lying on her stomach surrounded by assignments. She glanced at the uniformed officers and paled.
"You can talk in front of Courtney," Lem whispered. "In fact, I would like to have her here, if that is possible."
The policeman looked at the girl and his colleague and nodded. "There's been an accident on I-90 involving a member of your family, sir."
Courtney gave a stifled gasp and Lem stood rigid. Thoughts evolved faster than words possibly could. The police officer's sentence was diagnosed and filtered, while adrenalin erupted in his veins and his heartbeat tripled. I-90, the words screamed in Lem's mind. Why would Renee be on the wrong side of the city? He hardly heard the rest of the conversation.
"Your wife, Lem" the policewoman said.
"My wife." Lem's voice shook as he stepped back, found an armchair and fell back into it. "You say my wife?"
"A woman we believe was Mrs. Nikki Erksberg was killed when her vehicle collided with a semitrailer, fourteen miles east of the city. We need you to come and identify her body."
Nikki! She said Nikki…not Renee. Lem's drained face quivered and he found Courtney's wide relieved eyes looking into his.
"It's Nikki, not Renee," she said.
"Yes," Lem replied in a monotone. He turned to the police officers. "Yes, I'll come with you." He turned to Courtney. "Will you stay here and tell Renee when she arrives?"
"Sure, Lem. You go ahead."
"Lem should be back within the hour," the policewoman said kindly. "Would you like me to stay with you?"
"No," Courtney replied. "I'll be fine. Renee is due home soon."
"Right," Lem said. He placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, squeezed it and followed the officers out of the apartment.
****
When Lem arrived home an hour and a half later he was met in the main foyer by Renee, her blue eyes filled with compassion. She walked up, slipped her arms under his, kissed him and thanked the officers for their help.
"Courtney told me," she said and held the trembling man, while he kissed the top of her hair and clutched her so tightly she could barely breathe.
"And was it Nikki?"
Lem nodded but could not bring himself to talk. His face was pallid and shoulders slumped as he rubbed his stubble chin into his lover's soft face and kissed her again.
"Come on, Sweetheart," Renee said. "Courtney has the elevator waiting. You know, she's prepared a meal for us."
"Bad, was it?" Courtney asked as Renee guided Lem into the elevator.
"Terrible," Lem muttered. "Far worse than anything I imagined. I could recognize only her hair and shape of her face…the rest was…" He swayed and only Renee's hug stopped him from falling.
"It's okay, Sweetheart," she whispered. "Don't talk about it."
When they reached the apartment, Lem attempted to smile at Courtney but he reacted to the vision of the remains of his wife and nausea swept over him.
"Excuse me." He gulped and rushed to the bathroom.
"Here sip this," Renee whispered a moment later and handed him a glass of wine. She held him in her arms until a he felt a little better and he told of the terrible mangled body that was once Nikki.
****
When the video arrived in the following day's mail, Lem read Nikki's note but refused to watch the tape until Renee arrived.
Catalyst Page 14
