by Kathi Daley
Chelsea raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you do it? You seem to like all that detective stuff.”
“I think I will. Does anyone know what class she has next?”
“Oh, she’s not in school. Try her house.” Chelsea jotted something down on a napkin. “Here’s her address.”
“Thanks. I’ll go by later.”
“Just keep in mind when you talk to her that people lie every day to cover up the nasty little messes they get themselves into,” Chelsea warned her.
“I will keep that in mind.”
******
Alyson drove to the address Chelsea had given her after fifth period. She had computer lab during sixth but figured she could make up the work at home.
The house was a nice one, in the better part of town. Jessica’s parents obviously fell into the realm of Cutter’s Cove’s elite. The town was mostly middle class, made up of people in the tourism and fishing industries. There were a few, however, who made their money elsewhere and had migrated to Cutter’s Cove for its quiet seaside charm. Those families tended to settle on the north end of town.
Alyson rang the doorbell and waited.
“Can I help you?” A nicely dressed, middle-aged woman with streaks of gray in her blond hair opened the door.
“Hi. I’m Alyson Prescott. I go to school with Jessica. I’d like to see her if she’s available.”
The woman, who Alyson assumed was her mom, stepped aside and motioned Alyson forward. “Come in. I’ll check to see if she’s up for company. She stayed home from school sick today.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” Alyson looked around while she waited. Antique furniture, expensive artwork, picture windows overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Very nice indeed. One thing Alyson had learned since moving to Cutter’s Cove was that the line between the classes was distinct. There were a lot of families in the area who had moved to town when fishing was a major industry and now were barely making ends meet, living not far from others with money to spare who’d come for the proximity to the coast and the exceptional views that so many upscale homes enjoyed.
After a few minutes the woman came back into the entry where Alyson waited. “She said to go on back to her room. It’s the third door on the left.”
“Thank you. I’ll just be a minute.” Alyson walked down the wide hallway past perfectly made-up rooms decorated in shades of teal and gray. She knocked once, then opened the bedroom door when instructed to do so.
“Alyson, hi. Come in.” Jessica was sitting at her desk, fully dressed, working on what looked like homework assignments. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t think you even knew where I lived.”
“I didn’t. Chelsea Green told me.”
“Oh. I see.” Jessica closed her notebook and turned to face her guest. “Chelsea told you. I guess my ‘secret’ is out.”
Alyson crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Well, a version of it is out anyway. I know it’s none of my business. We barely know each other and I realize you have no reason to trust me, but I’d like to help if I can.”
Jessica looked her directly in the eye. “I trust you. Everyone knows you’re some kind of superhero or something.”
Alyson grinned. “Superhero? Is that what people say?”
Jessica nodded. “That appears to be your rep. You seem to know stuff and you’ve solved a lot of crimes. You found Caleb and returned his money to him. You rescued Spyder and V. You solved the mayor’s murder. People notice.”
Pausing, Alyson let out a slow breath. Superhero? She supposed she could live with that. Deciding to get to the point, she asked Jessica what was going on.
“Let’s sit over there and I’ll tell you the whole sordid story.”
Alyson followed Jessica across the room, then sat down on one of a pair of chairs that were arranged in front of a white-brick gas fireplace.
“A little over a month ago I went to this party. I don’t usually drink, but I’d just had this huge fight with my boyfriend, Steve, and decided to drown my sorrows. I had one drink. Just one. The next thing I knew, I woke up in Tommy’s bed completely naked. A few days ago I found out I was pregnant.”
“Did you… were you ever intimate with Steve?” Alyson watched the range of emotions that played across Jessica’s face as she struggled to continue.
“No. Actually, that’s what our fight was about. He thought it was time we took our relationship to the next level. I didn’t agree.”
“I see. Is there someone else you might have had a conversation with? Maybe hung out with? I guess what I’m stumbling over is whether you have any idea who you might have been with. Who the father might be?”
Jessica lowered her eyes. “No. I don’t remember anything. The night is a total blank between the time Steve left and I woke up in Tommy’s bed.”
“It sounds like you were a victim of date rape. There are several drugs that can cause exactly what you’re describing. Have you spoken to the police?”
Jessica sat forward and looked me in the eye. “No. My parents want to keep this quiet. I told my former best friend, Hilary, I was pregnant because I thought I could trust her. Big mistake. I’m sure the whole school knows by now.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“My parents want me to get an abortion, but I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right. What happened to me wasn’t my fault, but it wasn’t the baby’s fault either. He or she has a right to live. But when I think that some creep’s spawn is growing inside me, I want to cut it out myself. I don’t know what I’m going to do. My mom got permission for me to do home study until we figure it out.”
Alyson placed her hand over Jessica’s in a gesture of support. Her eyes softened as she lowered her voice. “What happened to you was unconscionable. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through, but if you were raped other girls might be at risk too. Whoever did this to you might do it again. I know you’d like this to simply go away, but with your permission I’d like to look into it. If there’s a rapist in town we need to do something about it.”
Jessica hesitated. “I don’t know. My parents wouldn’t like it.”
“The decision is yours; I promise. If you tell me to back off I will. But I can be discreet, or at least as discreet as anyone can be when they’re investigating something like this.” Alyson jotted down her cell number. “Please think about it. Either way, call me to let me know.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Alyson asked.
“How’s your calculus?”
“Pretty good.”
“I have a couple of problems that are kicking my butt. Maybe you could help me?”
“I’d be happy to.”
******
Alyson hurried back to school to pick up Mac before heading over to Booker’s. As usual, his huge colonial-style home was perfectly groomed and polished. A housekeeper, new because the old one had been caught stealing from Booker, ushered them inside and showed them to the well-stocked library.
Booker greeted them warmly. “I’m so glad to see you both. It’s been a while. Europe was lovely, but I did miss my friends. I heard you had quite the mystery to solve over Christmas. I was sorry to miss it.”
“I’m sorry you missed it too, but we’ve got a juicy one for you now,” Mac promised.
“Then let’s get right to it. Coffee?”
“Sure; thank you.” Alyson and Mac both accepted cups.
“Alyson had a little incident the other day.” Mac sat down next to her friend on one of the overstuffed sofas in front of the fireplace.
“I do hope you’re all right.” Booker positioned himself in one of the wing-backed chairs to Alyson’s right.
“I’m fine. The incident was more of the spooky, psychological nature than the physical.”
Mac and Alyson proceeded to fill Booker in on the details of the event, as well as everything they’d learned from their
computer session afterward. They tried to provide all the data without jumping to conclusions. Alyson watched Booker’s face as they spoke. She could see they’d piqued his interest.
“That’s some story. How can I help?” Booker asked.
“It occurred to us that the best way to stop the cycle is to try to figure out why it began in the first place and how the other victims became involved,” Mac said. “We found similar accounts dating back to 1892. We assume that represents the first event, although it’s possible there were others before that.”
“Every twenty-five years to the day, a girl dies under almost exactly the same circumstances. She falls to her death at the foot of Dead Man’s Bluff, without evidence of a struggle. All the victims were said to have exhibited strange behavior prior to their deaths,” Alyson added. “We’re wondering if there’s some type of curse, or maybe a trapped spirit, causing these deaths. The internet provided a very limited accounting of the incidents going back to 1892. We were hoping you could tell us more.”
“I’m happy to try. I have books and diaries dating back to the early eighteen hundreds. I’ll see what I can find. It would be helpful if you could print copies of the articles you found online.”
“I can do that,” Mac said. “Give me your email address and I’ll forward them to you. I went to the newspaper office during my free period but didn’t find much more than we already knew, but I made a search of old Cutter’s Cove High School yearbooks and came up with photos of the two most recent victims. They both had blond hair and looked amazingly like Alyson. There were no yearbooks going much farther back than that, so I couldn’t find pictures of any of the other girls.”
“Do you know if they had anything else in common besides blond hair?” Booker asked.
“They were smart; honor roll all four years. They also seemed active and popular; there were a lot of pictures of them.”
“I’ll see what I can find. Are you able to come back tomorrow after school?”
“We’ll be here,” Alyson promised.
“I hope I’ll have some news for you by then.”
Chapter 4
As promised, Trevor arrived at six at Alyson’s house bearing gifts from the Chow Palace Chinese restaurant. “There’s something about little white boxes that make me feel all warm and fuzzy,” Trevor commented as he set the food out on the kitchen table.
“I hear ya,” Mac agreed. “Sometimes a little pork fried rice or broccoli beef is all it takes to set the world right on its axis.”
“This looks so good.” Alyson piled her plate with sweet and sour pork, fried wontons, and a golden-brown egg roll. “I’m starving. That salad at lunch didn’t do much to quell my appetite.”
“Did you talk to Jessica?” Trevor asked after everyone had filled their plate with Chinese goodness.
Alyson nodded. “She pretty much confirmed what Chelsea said. She went to a party, had one drink, and woke up naked in Tommy Bilson’s bed.”
“Wow, that’s harsh. Did she tell you who raped her?” Trevor picked up a piece of honey-covered shrimp with his chopsticks.
“No. I offered to help her find out what went down, but she’s afraid it will upset her parents. She’s going to think about it and call me tomorrow.”
“Is she planning to come back to school?” Mac bit into a crispy egg roll she’d dipped in Chow’s special sauce.
“No. She’s doing home study for now.”
“Good plan. The rumor mill is out in full force. I’m not sure how anyone can be expected to deal with something like this. Have you tried the shrimp chow mein?” Mac asked. “It’s to die for.”
“One of the guys said she had several sexual partners at the party and that’s why she isn’t saying who the father of her baby is,” Trevor informed them.
“If I were Jessica I think I’d change schools. The kids at Cutter’s Cove can be pretty brutal,” Mac commented.
“She’s in a tough spot,” Alyson agreed. “It’s rotten to have to choose between changing schools and facing the music at your old school, hoping the kids you’ve known all your life really are your friends.” Alyson’s phone rang. “Hang on. I want to get that. It might be Jessica.” Alyson ran over to the counter and picked up her cell phone. “Jessica, hi.”
“I thought about what you said,” Jessica said over the line. “My parents are against it, but I don’t want what happened to me to happen to anyone else. You have to look into this on your own, though. No police. If we report it to the police, the newspaper will get hold of it for sure.”
“Mac and Trevor usually help me with my investigations. I promise you they’ll be discreet. I have a better chance of finding out what happened if they work with me.”
“Okay. They seem cool, not the gossipy type. But no one else.”
“Agreed. I need to know everything you can tell me about that night. Mac and Trevor are here. Is it okay if I put you on speakerphone?”
Jessica hesitated but eventually agreed. “I went to the party with Steve Hanson. We’ve been dating for a little over a year. After we got there he started making noise about going upstairs. He hinted that he might like his birthday present this year to be of the intimate nature. I told him that I didn’t think I was ready for that, and even if I was, I certainly didn’t imagine my first time to be at some crowded party. He got mad and left. Tommy offered me a drink. I only took a few sips before I started to feel dizzy. I went upstairs to find a bathroom and the next thing I knew, I was naked in Tommy’s bed. I found my clothes and went home.”
“Was anyone still there when you left?”
“No. Everyone was gone. I didn’t even see Tommy, but I didn’t look for him either.”
“Do you think it was him? Tommy?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He’s a big enough creep. But there were a lot of creeps at that party.”
“Can you make me a list of everyone you remember seeing there? I’m going to need to poke around a little. I promise I’ll be as discreet as I can.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“I have a meeting after school tomorrow. Maybe I could stop by after and pick up the list.”
“I’ll just text it to you,” Jessica offered.
“Even better.”
Alyson hung up. “Jessica’s really sensitive about this. I think she only agreed to let me look into it out of a sense of guilt that the same thing could happen to other girls. Her parents want her to have an abortion and forget all about it. We need to be extra discreet. I’m sure I don’t even need to say this, but we can’t discuss it at all except among ourselves.”
“Definitely. We’ll be secret-treasure secretive,” Mac promised.
“I really want to find the creep who did this to Jessica, but the timing couldn’t be worse. We have the Dead Man’s Bluff murders to solve and we only have six—make that five days after today—to do it. Maybe we shouldn’t split our focus,” Trevor suggested.
“I thought about that. I so don’t want to spend my summer vacation being dead. But this is important too. We’ll have to figure out a way to do both.”
“And homework and baseball,” Trevor reminded her.
“I didn’t say it would be easy.”
“I’m with Alyson,” Mac said. “I don’t want her dead either, but if a creep did this to Jessica, he’ll probably do it again.”
“You’re right.” Trevor gave in. “Luckily, the team has a bye this week, so we only have one game, and it’s an afternoon one.”
“Jessica is making me a list of everyone who was at the party, but I say we start with Tommy. Maybe Trevor should talk to him guy-to-guy. See what he knows. Jessica woke up in his bed; he must have seen something.”
“I’ll talk to him as well as a few others,” Trevor offered. “He’s in my history class. Guys like to brag about their conquests. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if our bad guy isn’t already bragging all over school.”
“Guys are disgusting,” Mac spat out.
“Hey,” Tr
evor defended himself.
“Not you; guys in general,” Alyson assured him.
“It would be so weird to be pregnant and not know whose baby it was.” Mac tossed an empty takeout container in the trash. “It’d be like having some alien growing inside you. Totally creepy.”
“I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind,” Alyson agreed. “I hope we can wrap this up quickly, for her sake. On another note, did you find out anything new about our mystery murder?”
Mac nodded. “I decided to expand my internet search and was able to come up with a few new bits of info, though I’m not sure any of it’s relevant.”
“Like what?” Alyson fed the leftover pork to Tucker, who had been waiting patiently for a treat.
“Repeating events aren’t totally unheard of phenomena. In a small town outside of Madison, Wisconsin, there’s a stretch of road where a fatal accident has occurred every February 29.”
“So every four years someone dies?” Alyson asked.
“Without fail, since 1952.”
“And the victims?” Alyson asked. “Are there any similarities?”
“Not that I could find. The really strange thing is that in every instance not only does the accident happen on the same stretch of road but all of them involved single cars. The vehicles appear to have simply gone off the road.”
“Remind me not to be anywhere near Madison, Wisconsin, next leap year,” Trevor declared.
“Any others?” Alyson asked.
“Several. There’s a small town in Scotland where every year on St. Mungo’s Day, someone drowns in the local lake. Legend has it a water devil is responsible for the deaths. St. Mungo is famous for miraculously retrieving the ring of the Queen of Scotland from the depths of the lake. It’s believed the kelpie is seeking revenge for the loss of his treasure.”
“Okay, that’s strange,” Trevor commented. “Twilight Zone strange.”
“I don’t know if a kelpie is responsible for the drownings, but it’s got to be more than a coincidence that the same thing happens year after year.”