by Ali Franklin
“I’m just hoping he doesn’t pick on you.” He noticed Victoria walking toward them. “Maybe you should tell Victoria about your recovery. Then it won’t come as a surprise if it comes out.”
“If it’s going to come out,” said Bobbi, “it’s going to come out. I’m sober now.”
“If Victoria is caught completely off guard, would she lose confidence in you?”
Bobbi stared at her him. “Are you trying to make this worse?”
The provost arrived and they sat down to dinner. There were two students at their table, so the conversation focused on safe topics like the residence halls and meal plans. Bobbi forced herself to make lighthearted conversation, but Paul and Victoria could tell she wasn’t herself.
At the end of the meal, the two students and their parents left to use the restrooms before the program began. Victoria turned to Bobbi.
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m just worried about the Paladin. Imagining what he’s going to say about my colleagues…and about me.”
Victoria put up a hand. “Bobbi Herman, I’ve known you for years. There’s not a thing the Paladin could say about you that I’d believe.”
“I’m a recovering alcoholic.”
Victoria stared.
“I’ve been sober for fifteen years. But I wasn’t always the Bobbi Herman you know.” For Bobbie, it all seemed to just spill out.
“Victoria,” said Paul. “We’re sorry to spring this on you. We just didn’t want you to be surprised if it came out.”
The provost’s mouth was moving as if she was trying to talk, but no sound came out.
A student ambassador tapped her on the shoulder. “Dr. Roux, they’re ready for you up on the stage.”
Victoria looked at Bobbi and Paul, then stood and walked to the front of the room. She took her place behind the podium and began talking about how proud Haverwood College was to offer scholarships to this exceptional group of students.
The ceremony continued for fifteen minutes. Paul held Bobbi’s hand, squeezing it every now and then in a show of solidarity.
Finally, the formal ceremony concluded and Victoria invited everyone to mingle. Bobbi and Paul stood and moved to the big doors that opened to the patio. When they were outside, Bobbi turned to her husband.
“That didn’t go like I thought it would.”
“She didn’t say anything negative,” he said. “Maybe she’s just looking for the right words.”
“It’s not that hard to say ‘you’re fired.’”
A new voice said, “No one’s going to say that.” They turned to see Victoria.
“I’m so sorry,” said Bobbi.
Victoria stepped forward and took both of Bobbi’s hands in her own. “No, I’m sorry. I should have told you right then what I was thinking. I’m not firing you That thought never entered my mind.”
Bobbi stared.
“You have a past, just like everyone else,” said Victoria. “The important thing is that you’re dealing with it. I admire that. And I’m glad to have you by my side during this…situation.”
“Do you really mean that?” asked Bobbi.
“I really mean it. The Paladin’s going to have to do better than that to hurt us.”
Bobbi sighed with relief.
9
Just before noon on Monday, Faith Cho left her campus office to get lunch from the SUB. She was twenty feet from the building’s front entrance when her phone buzzed. She wanted to ignore it but didn’t dare. Stopping at a concrete bench, she sat and looked at the screen. Her blood turned cold as she read the text:
Faith Cho, you will be
the first faculty member
exposed by the Paladin.
Your secrets will be
revealed in 24 hours.
Faith lowered a hand to the bench to steady herself. This couldn’t be real. She’d fallen asleep at her desk and was dreaming, right?
She heard students calling out to each other and looked up. She wasn’t dreaming. But no one else was looking at their phones. The message had been sent only to her. A small blessing.
She turned and half-jogged back to Miles Hall, cutting across the grass surrounding the library. The alumni bell tolled twelve times. She glared up at it.
She entered her office and locked the door behind her. Then she logged onto her computer and sent an email telling the students in her afternoon class she had an emergency. Class was canceled for the day.
She looked down at her phone again. The text message was gone. Should she call Nicki Statton? Victoria Roux? Lance?
The thought of Lance kicked her mind into high gear. He’d boarded a plane that morning for a quick trip with some buddies from the team. She was glad he was gone. It allowed her to concentrate for the next twenty-four hours. That’s all the time she had to figure out who her enemy was—and to stop him.
She looked around, then remembered the stack of files Nicki and Ryan had provided. She pulled them from the drawer and spread them across her desk.
She’d spent hours looking at the records over the past two days without matching a student with the Paladin’s profile. But this morning’s new message had given her more data to work with.
She sifted through the pages again, then again. She heard a knock at her door but didn’t answer it. She read the last of the files and started over at the beginning, feeling like she was close to a breakthrough.
Suddenly, she heard a ping in her head. She looked again at the papers in her hands. They were records of one student’s mediation meeting with a professor. Faith read through the transcripts and the student’s and professor’s stories.
There it was, staring her right in the face. The overblown ego, the need for affirmation, the feeling of being victimized…
“How could I have missed this?”
After chastising herself for a full minute, she picked up her phone and tapped a few buttons.
“Hello, Dr. Cho.” The voice was cheerful.
“Hello…Paladin.”
The voice at the other end chuckled. “I don’t know whether to be offended or touched. You think I’m the perpetrator?”
“I’m absolutely certain of it. Tell me you’re done with this joke and you’re not going to hurt me or any of my friends.”
“I can’t say that, Faith. People need to be held responsible for their actions.”
“There’s got to be another way for you to get what you want.”
“I tried more conventional methods. They did not provide results.”
“What results are you looking for?” asked Faith.
“You wouldn’t understand. You have your perfect life, your perfect job… All I want is my own chance at happiness.”
“What would make you happy? Maybe I can help.”
The voice chuckled again. “You are not in a position to give me what I want.”
“I’d like to try.”
The Paladin didn’t answer.
Faith continued. “You know I’m highly motivated. Let me help you.”
After a pause, the Paladin answered. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I want. But not over the phone. Where are you?”
“In my office.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.” The call ended.
Faith looked down at the phone in her hand. Then she stood and looked out her window. The Paladin was coming.
She took a deep breath and re-analyzed everything she knew about this person: everything she’d found in the records, memories of their personal interactions and what she’d heard in passing.
Then she thought about what she didn’t know: what the Paladin hoped to get from publicizing faculty members’ secrets. Finding that motive was her goal. Faith would have to use everything she knew about psychology to make the Paladin feel comfortable enough to open up to her.
She sat back at her desk and opened the bottom drawer. It held her personal supplies: makeup, two scarves, a prescription bottle and two bottles of spiced rum with matchin
g glasses that had been a gift from a group of graduate students. She pulled out one of the bottles and took a deep swing. The liquid warmed its way down to her gut. She was ready.
A light knock sounded on Faith’s door a few minutes later. She opened it and admitted the Paladin, who strode in full of swagger and grinning broadly.
Faith gestured the newcomer to a chair and walked around to the other side of her desk to sit.
“I still can’t believe it’s you,” said Faith.
“I know, right? Those jokers have no idea.”
That was true, but Faith didn’t want to confirm the assertion. She was going to try to convince the Paladin otherwise.
“How did you figure out it was me?” asked the culprit.
“I’m actually a little disappointed I didn’t figure it out sooner. I had all the information I needed days ago.”
“What information is that?”
“I’ve been given access to all of the student disciplinary files, including transcripts of all of their mediated meetings with faculty and staff,” said Faith.
“I imagine that was a good deal of transcripts to read.”
“It was. Those files, plus the information in your messages, gave me a pretty good idea about the kind of person we were looking for.”
“Who else knows it’s me?” asked her visitor.
“Just the main players,” she lied. “If you turn yourself in right away, this won’t have to get messy.”
“That’s amusing. If you had told them, they would be here.”
“I wanted to talk with you first,” said Faith. “Why did you threaten to hurt so many people?”
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic.” The Paladin sat back in the chair. “Colleges have scandals all the time, but they never close. Look what happened with that badminton team in Florida. And that professor in Oregon. Those were tragedies. This is just a list of faculty who are misbehaving. Their employment will be terminated and the college will move on.”
Faith tried not to let her face betray her excitement. Had the Paladin just revealed a motive?
“Who should get fired?” she asked.
“I imagine there are a few faculty who have sullied the name of Haverwood over the years.”
“Who are you going to get fired?”
The Paladin smiled. “You are the first casualty of my little war. But you’re just a pawn—the one who will start it off with a bang.”
“So someone else is your real target. Maybe I can help you get to that person.”
“I don’t think so. You won’t even be working here in twenty-four hours. They’re going to take one look at the evidence I publish and release you. I hope your CV’s up-to-date.”
Faith leaned back in her chair, affecting a casual air. “Maybe I’ll take a sabbatical. My husband’s been wanting to take a long cruise. But my dismissal isn’t going to solve your problem. And it’s not going to pose much of a problem for me.”
The Paladin elicited a mock gasp. “Oh, my dear Dr. Cho. I’m afraid you don’t understand me. When I publish the information about you, the college isn’t the only place you’ll be persona non grata. Your husband is going to be devastated. No real man would put up with what you’ve done.”
“What is it you think I’ve done?”
The Paladin leaned back in the chair and sighed. “Where to start? If I open that desk drawer, how many bottles of Oxy will I find?”
Faith sat up straight in her chair.
“You can’t think no one ever noticed your moods, your pupils…”
“Addiction is a disease. I can get treatment. This isn’t worth—”
“—Maybe not by itself,” said the Paladin, holding up a hand to stop her. “But supplement it with sleeping with your students and we’ve got quite a case against you.”
Faith scoffed. “Students always make up stories about sleeping with their professors. You can’t make that accusation stick.”
“Oh, but I can. Think about it. A male student who sleeps with his professor rises in stature if it becomes common knowledge. They’re more than willing to talk. But in your case, even the female students are willing to go on the record.”
Faith closed her eyes as snippets of the past fluttered through her mind. She’d felt so alive, so free during those times. She’d never believed anyone would hurt her by sharing their secrets.
She set her jaw. “I don’t believe anyone would come out and say I had a relationship with them.”
“Are you willing to bet your job on that? Your marriage?”
The room was silent for a full two minutes.
Finally, the Paladin chuckled. “Faith, not only will you not have that luxury cruise, but you won’t have any more champagne or fancy parties. After tomorrow, you will no longer be a celebrity wife. You’re going to end up alone with no academic career.”
“All because you’re trying to hurt someone else?”
The Paladin threw up both hands. “What can I say? You’re just one of the eggs in my omelet.”
Faith chose her next words carefully. “What will it take to change your mind? I can offer a lot.”
“You can’t give me what I want. I have to take it for myself.”
“I can give you money. It can buy you what you want.”
“It’s too late. The wheels are already in motion. The first ‘reveal’ will take place tomorrow at noon.”
“So I still have time to change your mind.”
The Paladin stood and walked to the door. “You can try, but you won’t succeed.”
The door opened and the Paladin stepped into the hallway.
“Wait,” Faith called.
The Paladin stopped.
“What if I resign? Before noon?”
The Paladin turned. Faith held her breath.
“I’ll consider it.” The footsteps began again, then faded away.
Faith closed the office door and sat heavily at her desk. Her tears flowed unabated. Her world could crumble tomorrow at noon.
She wiped her face with her hands as she thought about looking for a new job. It wouldn’t be that hard, if she kept herself out of trouble for a year or two. She could even say she’d gone into rehab.
Then she thought about Lance.
She would fight for her man. He wouldn’t appreciate a years-old claim of infidelity, but he’d remember all the times he’d had to travel and she would commit to therapy. They could make it work, and she could go off the meds any time.
But there was one thing the Paladin said that that nagged at her: No real man would put up with what you’ve done.
Faith knew she’d only ever done one thing Lance would think was unforgivable. But she’d been assured there was no record of the matter. There was no way the Paladin knew about that part of her life.
She reached into her desk drawer and took another long swig of rum. She had less than twenty-four hours to come up with a plan.
☐ ☐ ☐
Kenn sighed and tried again. It still didn’t work. He banged his fists on his computer keyboard.
“Damn it!” He stood and paced around the room. Why couldn’t he figure it out?
He didn’t have much time left. If he didn’t correct the final component soon, there was a distinct possibility he’d find himself in trouble. He turned around and stared at the computer.
“What am I missing?”
There were only a couple of steps left to resolve, but the project would fail if it wasn’t perfect. Kenn did not want to face the consequences.
He pulled a textbook from the shelf and leafed through the pages. He’d never read the whole thing, but the answers he needed were probably somewhere inside. He sat and propped his feet on the desk as he read.
He gave up after searching through the table of contents. His eyes searched the room for inspiration and landed on his weight bench. He reached for the twenty-pound dumbbells and started doing reps.
Ten minutes later, his phone rang.
Thank God, he thou
ght as set down the weights. He picked up his phone. It was Laura.
“Kenn, you never called me back.”
“I’ve been working…on a project…and lost track of time.”
“Are you okay? What are you doing?”
He took a few breaths to recover. “I was working out; trying to get my brain back in gear. I’ve been grinding on a project all morning.”
“Really.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“I promise, babe. I was working. This thing has to be done before finals week.” He picked up a tennis ball and bounced it against the wall as he talked. Thunk. Thunk.
“Who’s it for?” she asked.
“It’s actually kind of an extra credit project.”
“I’m impressed with your diligence.”
“Thank you.” Thunk. “What time do you want me to pick you up tonight?”
“What’s tonight?”
“There’s a Sigma party.”
“Don’t you have to work on your project?”
“I’m almost done.” Thunk. “Besides, I need a break.”
“Do we really have to go? I’d rather see a movie.”
“Babe, I’m about to graduate. This is one of the last times I’ll get to see my brothers.”
“And I’m about to move to California for medical school.”
“Don’t be like that. You know the fraternity’s important to me.”
“I know it is, Kenn.” She sighed. “Pick me up at nine.”
“Ten’s better.” Thunk.
“Okay, ten. And don’t forget you’re picking up my father at the airport tomorrow. His plane lands at noon.”
“What? No way.”
“You promised—a week ago.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I have class.”
“But I have to finish this project.”
“Then you should work on it tonight instead of going to the party. I’ve got to go.” She hung up.
Kenn frowned. Laura was right. He should stay home until he finished his work. He had to prove his worth to his father.
He re-opened the file he’d been working on and looked at it again from the beginning. It wasn’t elegant, but it looked like it would satisfy the requirements for the project—except for the very end. Something was wrong near the end.
