Natasha contemplated that and then wrote it down. "Do you know anyone who would do this to you?"
Penelope shrugged. "There are guys that like me. I am told that I am good looking but I can't think of any of the current people that I know doing this. I just can't!"
"Okay," Natasha said soothingly. "Why didn't you report this sooner and let us get a rape kit?"
Penelope shook her head. "I didn't want to. I felt ashamed. I spoke to Dr. Jackson at the psychiatry center though, and he convinced me to report it."
Natasha smiled wryly. She had spoken to Taj Jackson only this morning and he hadn't said a word to her.
"We will be investigating here on campus," she said aloud. "Maybe there are other girls that this person has raped. We are going to have to announce your case and see if anyone else comes forward."
Penelope nodded. "Keep my name out of it. I work in the media for Mount Faith TV. I don't want to be talked about for anything but my job. I just want whoever it is that did this to be caught and locked up in jail, and the key thrown away."
She got up, gathered her books, and walked away, looking furtively around her.
Tony, who had been silent for most of the interview, looked at Natasha excitedly. "I remember when I used to come here they had installed close circuit cameras and extra lights in the ornamental gardens because there were complaints about students having sex there at nights."
Natasha nodded. "Good. Who would have the footage?"
"Campus security," Tony said, "or maintenance. I am not sure."
"Okay," Natasha said. "Let's go check the president first and then have him sort out all of these little nitty-gritty details. We can definitely work with the chief of security on this case. Apparently the school population is blissfully unaware that there is a rapist among them."
They headed to what was fondly called the president's building. The day was sunny and clear but a tad bit chilly.
Natasha looked at Tony. "It's absurd how this place is so constantly cool."
Tony nodded. "And it is going to get colder in the December…January nights. When I just moved up here from Westmoreland, I was amazed at the weather myself, and at the campus in particular. I heard that the past president…the one who died …that his wife designed the gardens around here. It's amazing, isn't it?"
Natasha nodded. The past case was still fresh in her mind and she didn't want to talk too much about Edward Carlisle—the dead president—or his wife, Miranda, who had been a suspect during the investigation.
They walked rapidly up the marble steps of the presidential building and through a vast entryway into a reception area. The names of the various vice-presidents were listed as well as the deans whose offices were in the building.
"Where can I find the president?" Natasha asked the receptionist.
"Gold door. Last door down the hallway." The receptionist said lazily. She was barely looking at Natasha when she answered. Instead, she was smiling at Tony.
Natasha shook her head and headed down a carpeted hallway toward the gold door, past several doors with labels on them. She stopped at the gold door marked executive secretary and knocked.
"Come in," a voice said amiably.
Natasha opened the door and she and Tony stepped into an expensively decorated secretary's office.
"Hello," Natasha said glancing around the place, almost lost for words at the opulence. If this was secretary's office, what did the president's office look like? She dragged her ID from her pants pocket.
"We are here to see Dr. Bancroft."
The secretary nodded. "You almost missed him. He is going to a meeting in Bahamas for the day. His flight was delayed so he's free. Go right in."
Natasha and Tony advanced toward wide drawing room doors that slid to either side and entered a huge office. Bancroft was swiveling in his chair, talking on the phone.
He motioned them to sit down and then cut his conversation short.
"I vaguely remember you," he said putting down the phone and looking at Natasha. "You were one of the detectives who came to my house two weeks ago when I had the flu and was heavily sedated."
Natasha nodded. "I thought you were out of it at the time and wouldn't remember a thing. Let me introduce myself again. I am Natasha Rowe and this is my partner Tony Beaker."
"You change partners swiftly." Bancroft looked at her eagle eyed. "Is this more drivel about Edward Carlisle. Are the police going to harass me forever about his death?"
"No Sir," Natasha said. "We are on a different mission this time. We received a report from a student at this school that she was raped."
"Who is this student?" Bancroft asked impatiently.
Natasha looked at Tony raising her eyebrows. Bancroft didn't seem particularly caring about a rape happening in his own school.
"I don't wish to give you that information now Sir," Natasha said defensively.
Bancroft frowned. "Listen here, Natasha Rowe," he said annoyed. "There are some women who are very dishonest when reporting a crime such as rape."
"Dr. Bancroft!" Natasha said loudly. "A crime was committed on this campus and we are going to find the perpetrator and bring them to justice. Your attitude is deplorable."
Bancroft leaned back in his chair. "Whatever she told you is rubbish. I already checked it out and the person she accused is not amused."
Natasha sighed. "Dr. Bancroft. Are we talking at cross-purposes here? We received a report yesterday evening that a rape was committed five days ago at the north side of the campus, in the ornamental gardens. After a student left her music class."
"Oh." Bancroft sat up straighter in his chair. "That's awful." He frowned. "I can't recall any rapes ever happening on this campus in recent times."
Natasha calmed down a bit. She had no idea what he had been talking about earlier, but whatever it was obviously had nothing to do with the case at hand. "We need to have a meeting with the campus chief of security and we need to see footage of the ornamental gardens on the night of the 18th of October at around 7:00 pm."
Bancroft nodded briskly. "Sure... sure."
He picked up the phone. His regal bearing was now more purposeful. "Mr. Green please meet me at my office with a copy of the security surveillance video for the ornamental gardens. October 18."
He put down the phone and looked at the two detectives. "Pardon my outburst earlier."
Natasha nodded suspiciously. "Your views on rape were troubling."
Bancroft protested uncomfortably. "Let's just say I have had a recent false accusation leveled at someone close to me and I am feeling a bit suspicious."
Natasha looked at him keenly. "Is this something you want the police to get involved with? You know sometimes civilians are too close to a situation to make certain judgments whether they are true or not."
"That's true." Bancroft said noncommittally, "but I know that this allegation is not true."
A knock was heard on the office door and Mr. Green entered the room. He had a computer and his flash drive in hand.
"Mr. Green," Bancroft said laconically, "meet Natasha Rowe and Tony Beaker. They are police officers. A rape was reported on our campus."
Mr. Green nodded at both of them. "Oswald Green. I used to be in the force too."
He set up the laptop and plugged in the thumb drive. "We have the feed from six cameras…mostly trained at areas that are semi dark."
The six cameras came on showing the different views.
At 7:05, there was some movement on camera three. A shadowy figure in a black hoodie was humping a struggling female who looked as if she was kneeling. The video had too many shadows but it was enough for Natasha to conclude that what Penelope told her was true.
"If he was not in that hoodie we could get a close up of his face and de-pixelate the image," Mr. Green said angrily, "but the hoodie served as a mask."
Bancroft started massaging his temples. "How can the school accommodate your investigations?"
"Well," Natasha said, "firs
tly, there has to be some sort of curfew, more deployment of security officers at nights. We have no idea if this is a serial rapist, or if this was a one off event. It would also be good to announce it in your bulletins that there is a rapist on campus and encourage other women who may have been raped to report it to your new psych center. If it weren't for Dr. Jackson we would not have heard about this one."
Bancroft nodded, a small smile playing across his lips. "Dr. Jackson is a real asset to this institution."
Natasha felt like retorting that she knew he was. When she thought about Taj she had to force herself to act professionally because she loved him and she knew without doubt that he was wonderful.
Chapter Four
Micah hurriedly parked his car in the parking lot of the psychiatry center. He had been dodging Deidra since yesterday, but this morning he had seen her lurking at the front of the business center, waiting for him and he was afraid that she would follow him.
Then again, he probably shouldn't be concerned; the psychiatry center was the perfect place for her. He laughed silently at his thoughts. He was going to visit Taj for lunch and hopefully get some advice on what to do with Deidra.
He went through the glass door at the entrance and the smell of the new building hit him. There was still a very faint whiff of paint. There were three nurse/receptionists listening keenly to an older lady in a blue suit who seemed to be training them to use the switchboard. One of the trainees looked up and smiled.
"Hello, Mr. Bancroft."
"Hey, Simone," he said to her, she was a nursing student who had done a semester of work experience in the business center.
"We are not opened for business yet, Sir." She said apologetically.
Micah grinned. "I am not here for business. I am here to see my brother."
"Your brother!" Simone frowned.
"Dr. Taj Jackson." Micah said, a streak of pride flaming through him when he said that. He always savored calling Taj his brother. Besides, it felt good saying it in public. It seemed as if not everybody had heard the hot topic on campus that Dr. Ryan Bancroft, the interim president, was actually the father of Dr. Taj Jackson, the new Psych center head.
"Oh," Simone said still looking at him as if he was disoriented and in need of treatment. "He is in his office."
Micah nodded and looked around.
"Last office at the end of the corridor," she said to him helpfully.
He nodded and went through the reception area, almost stopping in mid-step. The interior, where he expected the office spaces to be, had a water fountain and several plants. He nodded and smiled to himself. It really looked peaceful. He could see that this would be a good place to come and de-stress, especially if feeling messed up in the head.
He headed down the corridor to a door that was slightly ajar. It had Taj's name on a brass nameplate.
He knocked and went in. The office was spacious. There were four people in the room. Taj, his girlfriend—Natasha—a man who was installing a sound system on a stepladder, and Deidra!
How did she know he was heading here? She was stretched out in a couch, which still had plastic on it, displaying an obscene amount of leg.
Taj was on his cell phone.
"It's busy in here. Micah said, backing out.
Deidra and Natasha looked up at him.
Natasha smiled and shook her head. "No... no, come in! I stopped by because I was in the neighborhood. I was wondering if Taj was free for lunch but heard that he was having lunch with you."
Deidra was looking at him intently—drinking him in with her chocolate brown eyes. "I heard from your secretary that you would be here so I just preempted you. We need to talk."
Micah shook his head. "I don't want to talk to you."
Taj ended the call and gave Micah an apologetic grin. "Maybe we can all have lunch together."
Micah shook his head vehemently—his fine locks shaking. "Nah, I'll pass."
Natasha nodded. "That's a good idea, for all of us to have lunch together."
Micah looked over at Deidra in disgust. "I am not having lunch with her!"
Taj looked from him to Deidra. "Let's go check out the new cafeteria. I actually asked the cafeteria head to prepare lunch for the staff here and give us a sample of the weekly menu. With more people to feed, we can give her more feedback. It's upstairs," Taj said grabbing his phone.
Micah frowned. He wasn't one to bow to peer pressure, and right now, he felt pressured. Deidra had stood up, her little blue jeans dress barely reached her mid-thigh and she was tugging it down and looking at him seductively while she did it.
He turned to follow Taj. "Okay I am coming."
They went to the new cafeteria. The plastic was still on these chairs as well. Taj chose a table that overlooked the courtyard at the back.
Micah looked around. It wasn't a large cafeteria, but the aesthetics were pleasant, with abstract paintings in pastel shades hanging tastefully on the wall. Everything was chosen for soothing the diner. Micah appreciated the fact that it didn't look or feel like a hospital or an institution.
"Whoever chose the decor did well," he said to Taj.
Taj smiled. "I just modeled it off the psychiatry center that I worked at before I came here."
An eager member of the kitchen staff came out with a tray of entrees while they sat and chit chatted. Micah was drumming his fingers on the table, while Deidra tried to get his attention by directing questions at him. They were questions he had no intention of answering.
"What's going on between you two?" Taj asked after one more of Deidra's futile attempts.
"She's a manipulative bitch," Micah said flatly.
Deidra gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "Why can't you like me? I love you!" she said passionately.
"God knows why," Micah snarled. "I have never encouraged you…I don't like you," he gritted out. "You are a nineteen year old prima donna with a crush…you chose the wrong guy to have a crush on!"
"You are my fiancé," Deidra said choked up, "and if you don't accept that, I am going to broadcast to all and sundry, what you did to me on Sunday!"
Natasha was looking between the two; her eyebrows rose inquiringly. "What did he do to you Deidra?"
Deidra looked at a mutinous Micah. "Are we going to get married or what? My answer depends on him agreeing to marry me."
Micah was chafing over her manipulation. He wanted to take her long hair and choke her with it—so great was his wrath—but his conversation with his father was still fresh in his mind. He hated the manipulation. He hated that this little spoilt brat thought that she could trap him in marriage with a trumped up story. She could probably get away with it too because her father was a big powerful senator who was richer than Midas. It only helped her cause that she had her father wrapped around her pinky.
He sighed and threw up his hand in the air. "Yes we are going to get married." He said reluctantly.
Deidra's face lit up with a smile; her plump pink lips highlighted by her extremely shine lip-gloss. He reluctantly conceded that she looked pretty—almost innocent—when she smiled.
"Then that's fine. I was thinking we should get married in December, before the Christmas holiday."
Micah raised his brow in consternation. "Why? I was thinking that a long engagement would be better. Maybe the next forty or so years, until you grow up."
"No." Deidra shook her head. "Stop playing. It was hard enough to get you to agree to marry me. I am not letting you get away with a long engagement."
Micah sighed. "Can we discuss this at another time?"
Deidra nodded. "Sure. I have the plans all sorted out. I am having six bridesmaids and a maid-of-honor. Would you like to choose the groomsmen and your best man?"
Micah shrugged. "Do I have to do that this minute?"
Deidra chewed her lip impatiently. "If you avoid me for the rest of the week, I am going to tell everyone what you did on Sunday."
Micah sighed. "My version or yours?"
Deidra
stood up and leaned over the table. "What do you think? Is this evening okay for you?"
Micah grimaced. "Okay."
"Your office," Deidra said purposefully. "And you better be there."
"How can I not be?" Micah asked faintly. He was clenching his hand so tightly his short nails were digging into his palms.
Deidra smiled sweetly at Natasha and Taj. "Bye guys. Sorry I can't stay for lunch. I have a class. I am half hour late as it is."
"Bye." Both Taj and Natasha said in unison.
They both turned and looked at Micah as Deidra left the room, stomping away towards the door like a super model on a runway. Micah was gritting his teeth and looked visibly upset.
"What is it that she has over you?" Natasha asked concerned. "Obviously she is blackmailing you and having fun doing it. Did you rob a bank or something?"
Micah unclenched his fist. "Sometimes I feel like teaching that high-handed, cocky, vain, brat a lesson. Somebody should have given her a good spanking when she was little!"
Taj chuckled. "That's no way to talk about your wife to be."
Micah grimaced. "I expected empathy Doc, not mockery."
Natasha laughed. "So are you going to marry her?"
"Hell no!" Micah bellowed. "I would have to be drugged, tied up, and have a personality transplant first."
He looked at the entrees and got up. "Sorry Taj. My appetite has gone through the door with Deidra. Can we do lunch another time?"
Taj nodded. "Sure. What about dinner? I was planning to cook Thursday night."
Micah nodded. "Okay, cool. I will come over. Want me to bring anything?"
Taj shook his head.
Micah walked off and Taj watched him, turning back to look at Natasha. "I feel it for him. That girl is terrible. At least he is handling his anger well. "
Natasha frowned. "I wonder what kind of secret does Deidra have on Micah that is causing him to accept her blackmail. Must be something huge."
Taj shrugged. "It's that detective mind of yours that is causing you to see mysteries everywhere."
Natasha laughed. "By the way. Thanks to you, Penelope Harris stopped by the station to report that she was raped. We are hoping that others like her will come forward, if there are any more cases like that."
Tattered Tiara (The Bancrofts: Book 2) Page 3
