Tattered Tiara (The Bancrofts: Book 2)

by Barrett, Brenda

  Taj nodded. "Great!"

  "What's going on Tajy?" April asked concerned. "That 'great' sounded wrong."

  "Nothing's going on."

  April shook her head. "I know when something's up with you."

  "I have a girlfriend of sorts."

  April nodded. "That's good."

  "She thinks I still have feelings for you."

  April's mouth formed into an O. "Er...did you tell her that we have far past that stage in our relationship?"

  "I did," Taj said. Then he looked at April confused. "But now I'm wondering, did I ever really get over you?"

  April looked at him concerned. "This is not like you. You know that both of us are water under the bridge. Don't you like this girl?"

  "I do." Taj got up. "I do, but I am not sure that she's the one. Well, not anymore. I have thought about it. I am attracted to her. I even invited her to meet you this evening but in the past couple of days I am wondering if she and I will be going the long haul."

  April whistled.

  "I know what you are talking about, that's the same way I dithered between you and Shemar, remember? When we are uncertain about the future we reach for the familiar… the familiar for both of us has always been each other. This must be serious, tell me about her."

  "Her name is Natasha. She's a detective."

  "Police?" April's eyes widened.

  "We met my very first day here." Taj smirked. "She also helped me to find out who my real parents are. Not that I was looking, mark you."

  "Hold on, back up," April said eagerly. "Who are your real parents?"

  "Dr. Ryan Bancroft and a lady called Anne Carter, my current secretary."

  April was practically bouncing on the settee. "I can't believe this, give me the low down now."

  By the time Taj had finished telling her, the doorbell rang.

  A nervous Natasha was on the other side of the door. She had changed her mind about coming to meet Taj's ex-girlfriend about five times in the last hour, but here she was, dressed up in her black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans she had just hauled from the line.

  She pushed her hand into her pocket and wondered idly why she was even here, but then she reminded herself that curiosity was a powerful thing.

  Taj opened the door. His hair looked tousled, and his brown eyes were alight with excitement. He looked handsome, relaxed, and happy. Her heart sank. She couldn't remember Taj looking so totally happy before.

  "Hey," she looked at him resentfully, "I am here."

  "So you are." Taj said kissing her on the cheek. "Come on in and meet April."

  April was in the settee lying down; her hair sprawled all over the cushion in a pillow of curls.

  She is pretty, Natasha thought disappointedly.

  "Hey Natasha," April got up and straightened her jacket. "It's lovely to meet you. I am an old friend of Taj. Knew him from he was a scrawny little boy fixing his bicycle in his front yard."

  Natasha smiled faintly. "I heard."

  April ignored her lack luster greeting and grinned at her understandingly. She and Taj talked and got along like a house on fire, laughing and chatting around Natasha's monosyllabic answers with the ease of people who knew each other forever.

  Natasha found herself feeling inadequate and left out of their tight circle. She almost breathed a heavy sigh of relief when her phone vibrated on her leg. She pulled it out rapidly. It was Tony.

  "Natasha," Tony said somberly. "I am by the University Health Center. There has been another rape. This time, the girl was carried here by the campus security. She was beaten, kicked in the stomach, and is unconscious."

  "I'll be right there," Natasha said swiftly. "Got to go."

  She looked at Taj and April. "There has been another rape on campus."

  She hurried out of the house, barely hearing April's friendly goodbyes.

  ***

  After Deidra had carried all her bridal books, and girly wedding planning lists to his office, Micah had invited her to come up to his house. He had promised her that he would give his input to the wedding planning after she helped him with some renovations.

  He grinned to himself. Deidra's ideas of renovating and his were entirely different. He had told her to dress comfortably. He peeped through his window when her car drove up, just to see what was her idea of comfort.

  He wasn't disappointed. Deidra stepped out of her car in 5-inch heel black leather boots and a leather dress that fell at mid thigh. She flicked her freshly blow dried hair over her shoulder and grabbed an accordion file from the back of her car and a book with what looked like gowns on the front.

  Micah groaned.

  Didn't common sense tell Deidra that they were chalk and cheese? She was a little glamour girl and he was earthy and unconventional. Why does she persist?

  He opened the front door. He had a pencil stuck behind his ear and was covered in sawdust. He pushed his plastic glasses over his head and watched as she glided over to him.

  Her mouth was set in disapproving lines. "Micah, I thought we had a date."

  Micah sighed. "We do. I told you to dress comfortably. My idea of a date was for you to help me renovate the living room. I am redesigning the place. The woods were rotting in the ceiling. I changed them all out and I was hoping that you could help me with some varnishing. I have the paint and everything."

  "Hold up, Micah Bancroft," Deidra said grimacing. "Are you telling me that I spent most of the evening sprucing up for you and you want me to varnish wood?"

  Micah nodded. He was chuckling inwardly though. Deidra looked affronted and puffed up, like a trussed up hen.

  "Don't you like me at all?" Deidra asked exasperatedly, looking around the entrance area and placing her books on a table.

  Micah shrugged. "I don't know you really, and what I know I don't like."

  Deidra shuddered and closed her eyes. "Don't you think I'm sexy?"

  Micah snorted. "Yes I do. I think any straight male who is honest would find you sexy."

  "So why are you not looking towards our wedding?" Deidra asked petulantly. "You would get to have me all the time."

  "Please God, no!" Micah said under his breath. "I would go stir crazy."

  "What are you mumbling?" Deidra demanded.

  "Deidra," Micah said softly, biting all the words he wanted to shout at her. "Come on let's go sit in the den."

  He walked purposefully toward the den. It had two rickety chairs and piles and piles of old newspapers. He needed them for when he started to paint the place.

  "There is no furniture in here," Deidra said looking around. "And it smells."

  Micah dusted off the better-looking chair and indicated for her to sit.

  "The place was leaking. The owners recently had the roof fixed. I am finalizing the purchase of it next week, then it's mine. I intend to fix the house room by room and then plow the two acres attached to the place and do some farming."

  "It is old and musty!" Deidra said shuddering. "Why would you want to live here anyway?"

  "Because I do," Micah said simply. "I like old houses."

  "It's in the middle of nowhere," Deidra declared. "I can't live here when we get married."

  "Deidra." Micah dusted off the other chair and sat across from her, leaning on his legs and looking at her earnestly. "Why do you want to marry me?"

  "Because I love you!" Deidra said simply.

  "What is this love?" Micah asked her in astonishment. "You don't love me. You don't even know me."

  "I know you." Deidra leaned back in the chair and it squeaked as if it was about to collapse. She straightened back up. "I know you are a free spirit and you love your space. I know you hate people telling you what to do, and I know that you don't care what people think of you."

  "So..." Micah was looking at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "If you know all of this, why are you pursuing me? Why did you force your father to tell my father to practically force me to marry you? To make matters worse you have a trumpe
d up rape story that you are dangling over my head."

  "Because you wouldn't give me any attention otherwise," Deidra said. "Lots of guys like me. I thought that you would like me too, eventually. I am pretty. I am sexy. I try very hard to look good for you."

  "Oh Deidra." Micah whispered in exasperation. "I know that you are pretty and sexy. What gave you the idea that that was enough? Prettiness and sexiness can only last so long. They are not the be all and end all of a lasting relationship. You should know that by now."

  Deidra sighed and looked down at her hand. Then she looked up at Micah earnestly. "How can I be better for you?"

  Micah almost gasped at the wealth of feeling he saw in her eyes. He honestly didn't know what to say. Was Deidra suffering from some form of unhealthy obsession? He was not equipped to handle this. If he treated her kindly, she would misinterpret his gesture as love. If he treated her roughly, who knew what she would run off plotting against him.

  He sat there silently contemplating the pure lines of her face. She was in minimal makeup for once and he could see the youthfulness in her features.

  "How old are you Deidra?" He asked softly.

  "I'll be twenty in January," Deidra said readily.

  "Do you always get what you want?" Micah asked getting up and heading for the light switch. It was just five o'clock but the darkness had descended swiftly and suddenly. It was always the same at the end of the year.

  He hadn't heard her when she got up. When he spun around, she was directly behind him.

  "Make love to me Micah. It will be good I promise you." She pressed her leather-clad body to his dusty one and pressed her face on his dusty overall. She hugged him tightly.

  Micah stood very still. She pressed her body into his as if she wanted to absorb him.

  "Deidra," he whispered cautiously. "How often do you do this? Throw yourself at men."

  Deidra looked up at him feverishly. "I only do this for you. Just kiss me please…I love you. Just this once…kiss me.

  Micah looked at her bare red lips and actually contemplated kissing her. His body was responding to her closeness, reminding him that he was a man. His erection pressed against her belly and she looked up at him triumphantly.

  That look brought him to his senses like a bucket of cold water. If he gave in to temptation, he could alter the course of his life. The thought gave him strength enough to push her away. He backed away from her and headed to the front door.

  Okay, so, he was human, but he was not staying in the house with her.

  He sat outside on a tree stump near her car. The air was chilly and his body responded to the chill, cooling him down significantly from the heated enticement that was Deidra. She would have to come out of the house eventually, but he would rather die from hypothermia than risk going back into the house with her.

  "Wuss!" Deidra hissed when she came out of the house. "I can't believe that you have a desirable woman throwing herself at you and you either push her away or run! What's the matter with you?"

  Micah opened his mouth to retort something hurtful and then closed it. Deidra was standing with her hands akimbo and tapping her leg.

  "You wanted me in there. What stopped you?"

  "Maybe I am taking a leaf out of Joseph's book."

  "Joseph?" Deidra frowned. "Who is Joseph?"

  "Joseph in the Bible," Micah said sarcastically, "there are some good stories in the Bible, you should read it sometime."

  Deidra hissed her teeth. "I know the story. Mrs. Potiphar was married and I'm not. I am engaged to you."

  "I am very discriminatory when it comes to my sexual partners," Micah said frankly. "I am not an animal and I don't find everything in a skirt desirable and I don't have sex just for the hell of it. It has to mean something. If that makes me a wuss, I'm a proud wuss."

  A look of hurt crossed Deidra's features. "Micah, I am sorry if I came on too strong, but I have these feelings for you."

  She walked closer to Micah and he got up from the stump. Ready to move if she came closer. He wasn't sure if Deidra wouldn't jump him, and despite his speech, he was not sure what his reaction to her would be next time.

  "What is it about me that you find so repulsive?" A look of intense hatred crossed her face. "Okay," she growled a tear escaping her eye. "Don't say I did not warn you."

  Micah frowned. "Deidra, please do not go spreading lies about me."

  Deidra hissed. "You deserve everything that is about to happen to you Micah Bancroft. She got into her car and slammed the door. "Everything!"

  She sped off down the hill leaving Micah with a sense of foreboding.

  Chapter Seven

  Natasha was doing an all night vigil at the bedside of Jiselle Newman. She had been incoherent earlier, so the doctors had given her something to make her sleep. Natasha wished that they could have gotten more information from her, but as it was, the trail on the rapist was quickly going cold. The bastard had raped the young woman in the evening. She had arrived at the security post on the south side of the campus battered, bloody, and hysterical.

  The security guard had the traumatized young woman taken to the clinic. It had been three hours since she was sedated. Natasha waited at her bedside; a sense of rage had her in its grip.

  Jiselle's parents were in the visitors lounge. Her mother had been crying so loudly that the doctors had sedated her as well. They lived nearby so this girl was a day student. Penelope on the other hand lived on campus.

  Natasha looked at her watch and then over at the battered face of Jiselle. She had no idea if this was the same rapist, but her skin prickled with rage. She was on campus when this happened. How could this have happened under her nose? She felt a huge sense of inadequacy.

  Tony tiptoed into the room and sat in a chair beside her.

  "Any movements yet?"

  "No." Natasha shook her head. "She's out. The doctors did a rape kit for us, but you know how long that will take to process at the lab. Besides, the rapist used a condom again."

  Tony nodded and then whispered. "We could explore the similarities between the two girls…see if there is a pattern."

  "Good idea, but I am not leaving this girl's bedside until I get a statement."

  Tony dragged out his notebook. "I could find out some things about Penelope, like her background…her boyfriends…see if there is anything similar to Jiselle."

  "That sounds fine." Natasha looked at her watch and yawned. "It's nine o'clock."

  She wondered if Taj and April were still at his house. The green-eyed monster was active in her. She never got this way, ever. She was surprised at herself. Really shaken up at the possessive way she felt toward Taj. It was scary to feel so involved.

  She glanced at Tony who was cracking his knuckles impatiently.

  Then Jiselle stirred. She opened her eyes a crack and asked, "Where am I?"

  Natasha got up hurriedly. "You are at the university's private clinic. Do you remember how you got here?"

  Jiselle squeezed her eyes shut. "Yes."

  "My name is Natasha. I am with the Mount Faith Police. This is my partner Tony Beaker. Can you tell us what happened?"

  Jiselle turned her head away from Natasha and Tony.

  "I was on my way from the business center. I went to the post office. I was expecting a package."

  Natasha jotted down that information.

  "I was passing the greens."

  "The common area where students hang out?"

  "Yes," Jiselle said, a croak in her voice, "and out of nowhere a guy grabbed me." She swallowed. "He grabbed me from behind and covered my mouth and then blindfolded me."

  "Didn't anybody see this?" Tony asked incredulously.

  "I don't think so. It was pretty scanty out there. The guy covered my mouth tightly before I could scream. He carried me to the empty lot near the psychiatry center. I think they are building a garden there… and threw me behind a mound of dirt."

  "What did he blindfold you with? Could you see anything through
it?" Natasha asked earnestly.

  "Not really," Jiselle said softly. "It was a thin white kerchief. I was trying to fight but the guy held me down. Tied my mouth and my hands and he started to kick me all over and called me names. He told me I was high handed and acted better than everybody else and that he was going to show me who was boss."

  She shuddered. "After he raped me, he gave me a kick and asked me who was the boss now. He untied my hands and left. When I heard him move off I waited a while and found the security post nearby."

  "What time was this?" Natasha asked.

  "Near four-thirty, the sunlight was weak and the day was overcast. So it looked like dusk."

  Natasha patted Jiselle's hand. "We are going to get to the bottom of this, Jiselle. Don't worry!"

  Jiselle moaned as she turned. "I just want to go home!"

  "Can you remember anything outstanding about this guy?" Tony asked Jiselle gently.

  "He smelled like bubblegum," Jiselle said shuddering.

  Natasha looked at Tony, her eyebrows raised. They had heard this before. "And his voice, what did it sound like?"

  "He sounded hoarse." Jiselle winced in pain.

  "Would you say he was about your height?" Natasha asked. "Since he held you from behind."

  "He was a bit taller than me," Jiselle whispered, "and he wasn't muscular either but he felt strong because when I started to fight I couldn't believe that he was that strong."

  "Thank you Jiselle," Natasha said closing her notebook. A seething fury had taken up residence in her mind.

  She exhaled when she walked out into the night air with Tony.

  It was quarter-to-ten. She glanced at her watch in the light of the clinic gardens. She felt angry and aggressive.

  "Why couldn't this idiot try that with me?" Natasha asked. "I would beat him to a pulp."

  Tony looked at her angry expression and bit his lip. He watched as she paced the parking lot angrily.

  "Maybe tomorrow we can look at some of the parallels in the two cases together," Tony suggested folding his arms and staying out of Natasha's way.

  Natasha stopped pacing and stood still. "Sorry for the blown fuse. I just hate injustices against women, particularly this type…cowardly men creeping in the dark, overpowering them. These men take so much from women when they do this," Natasha said bitterly. "It is not just a physical attack. It stays for years. Forever! It screws up their lives, their future relationships..."