by Linda Berry
“I have swim practice after school.” Courtney took a bite of the bagel. “I’ll take the bus home.”
Sofie cast Lauren a sidelong glance, finding it an opportune time to cross the room to crack eggs into the frying pan.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Courtney raised a curious face above the rim of her glass. She had her father’s wide-set brown eyes and sensuous mouth. Her flawless complexion was glazed with freckles across her nose and cheeks, inherited from Lauren. Even with a mother’s bias, Courtney was an exceptionally pretty girl.
She joined her daughter at the table. “Something happened to one of your classmates last night.”
“What?”
“A freshman girl was raped. Steve and I found her in Cypress Park.”
Courtney’s brows drew together. She blinked hard. “Oh my god. Melissa?”
“Yes,” Lauren said gently. “Please keep her identity to yourself.”
Courtney sat stunned.
“How well do you know her?” Lauren asked.
“We’re good friends, Mom. She’s on my soccer team. You didn’t recognize her?”
Lauren shook her head, thinking of the red eyes, the makeup. She didn’t have a clear picture of Melissa as a normal kid.
Courtney stared hard at her plate.
Lauren knew the ugly images of rape were taking shape in her mind.
Her daughter looked up. “Is she okay?”
“She will be. Eventually. But she’s been through a horrible ordeal. She’s going to need understanding friends when she returns to school.” Lauren approached the next topic delicately, handing her daughter the paper. “The details are in the article. Just a warning, my name’s mentioned.”
Courtney scanned the article, reading out loud. “She was abducted while walking home after taking the bus from school.” Courtney glanced up at her mother, wide-eyed, then read on. “She was raped, strangled, and left in the park naked. It says here two other girls were raped, too, in Oakland.” Courtney’s voice held a touch of fear. “Mom, all these girls are my age. Are you going to catch this guy?”
“Yes,” Lauren said with conviction. “Catching him is our top priority.”
Frowning, her daughter read on. When she raised her head, her eyes were dark with anger. She swallowed, emotion tightening her features. “You got shot at last night?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t that tell you anything? That Grandmom Ann is right? You need to get out of police work. It’s dangerous.”
Lauren was unsettled by her daughter’s tone. Courtney was rehashing a worn-out topic that never lost steam. The issue surfaced repeatedly in the weeks following her husband’s death. With the tragic loss of her father, and Courtney down to one parent, Lauren’s mother desperately wanted Lauren out of police work, and she didn’t harness her opinions in the presence of her impressionable granddaughter.
“Honey, I understand you’re upset. Yes, I got shot at. But I’m fine. A terrible thing happened, but you’ll be perfectly safe as long as you stay alert. Don’t put yourself in a vulnerable position.” Courtney, she knew, understood exactly what that meant. Lauren had talked to her tirelessly about personal safety. “Riding the bus, of course, is out. Grams or I will drive you from now on.”
Sofie placed the breakfast plates on the table. Courtney sat pressed back in her seat with her arms tightly crossed and made no move to touch her food.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Lauren said.
“I’m not hungry. Can I go?”
Sofie stuffed a bagel in a baggie and set it next to Courtney’s plate.
“Yes. You’re excused. When is your swim practice over tonight?”
“Five.”
“I’ll pick you up. Do your homework early.” She took a deep breath, expelled it. “We’re going to dinner with Captain Monetti.”
Courtney looked at her mother with a peculiar expression. “We spent last Sunday with him. This isn’t ….” She wrinkled her nose. “A date, is it?”
Lauren looked over at Sofie, who had busied herself cleaning the counter. The stiffness to her shoulders said she did not want to be drawn into this conversation.
“It’s … sort of a date.”
“Then count me out.”
“Honey, Jack and I want to include you.”
“Get real, Mom. I’m not your chaperone. I’ll stay at Grams’s tonight.” Sulking, Courtney grabbed the bagel, left the table, and crossed the room to the kitchen door. Tango jumped down from the nook and she scooped him up in her arms. “Grams, can you drive me to class?”
“I’ll drive you,” Lauren said evenly. “I need to do some work at your school this morning.”
“You mean snooping?” Lauren watched her daughter’s mouth curl up with distaste, and her eyes fired harpoons. “You’re not a detective, Mom. Why do you always have to embarrass me?”
Tightening her jaw, Lauren said nothing.
“You’re not going in uniform, I hope.”
“No.”
“What about your gun?”
“I’ll have it under my coat.”
“Great.” Courtney huffed out, retorting over her shoulder, “Try not to shoot anyone.”
Strained silence stretched across the room. Lauren listened to the wall clock tick away the seconds. “That went well,” she said.
“She’ll calm down.” Sofie poured them both a second cup of coffee and slid into a seat opposite Lauren. “Courtney doesn’t have the maturity to understand what she’s feeling right now. Her friend was just attacked. You were shot at. Now this dating thing gets thrown at her. It comes as a shock. To me, too.”
“A lot to dump on you both.” Lauren sipped her coffee, guilt knotting her chest. “I blew it. I’m sorry.”
“I’m all right.” She added cream to her coffee, stirred. “It’s Courtney we need to worry about.”
“I thought a night out would be fun. I thought she liked Jack.”
“That was before she knew you were dating him. Bringing a new man into her life right now won’t be easy. She’ll see him as a threat to her relationship with you, and her father’s memory.” A shadow of sorrow darkened Sofie’s eyes. “No one will ever measure up.”
Lauren realized how insensitive she’d been. She should have considered Sofie’s feelings before blurting out she was dating Jack. Naturally, her mother-in-law would resent a new man moving into her son’s sanctified territory. She reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry, Sofie. I should have confided in you.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I don’t know.” Lauren looked down at her fingers, clasped tightly around her mug. “It’s been sixteen years since I’ve tackled dating. It’s a different world. With my job, and Courtney, there’s so much at stake.” She reflected on the handsome, intelligent man who was at the center of this conflict. Jack had stirred to life a warm passion that had lain dormant since her husband’s death. But Jack was her boss, which added a host of complications. Her emotions and her logic were duking it out—her emotions yearning for expression, her logic warning her to hold back.
The shrill ring of the phone interrupted her thoughts. After the second ring, Sofie started to rise, but Lauren placed a hand over hers. “Let it go.”
The machine picked up and Lauren recognized her mother’s voice. “Lauren … Christ, I just read the paper. I’m beside myself. Call me back.”
She didn’t have the energy to deal with her mother’s wrath at the moment. Avoiding Sofie’s eyes, Lauren mumbled, “I’ll call her later.”
Sofie patted her hand, cleared the table, and soon left for home. Lauren finished her coffee and stared grimly out the window at her vegetable garden. It needed work. Weeds everywhere. The last of the tomatoes bursting on the vine. Beyond her fenced-in yard, the sun had burned through the fog on the bay and the water gleamed silver in the morning light.
Tango jumped into her lap, his generator purring loudly. Lauren buried h
er face in his saffron fur and wondered what she would do without Sofie. She remembered her mixed emotions two years ago when Ken convinced his recently widowed mother to buy a townhouse in their neighborhood. Lauren resented her mother-in-law’s constant intrusion in their lives, and the influence she had over her son.
When Ken died a year later, Lauren experienced firsthand the emotional devastation that came with the loss of a loved one. She and Sofie cried together, buried Ken together, consoled Courtney together. Their mutual support tightened the bonds of their friendship, deepened their affection for one another. Now Sofie was an integral part of the family, irreplaceable.
Lauren looked up as her daughter shuffled into the room.
“I’m ready. Let’s go.” Courtney slung her backpack over her shoulder and faced her mother with a challenging expression. “We don’t want you late for the inquisition.”
CHAPTER SIX
IN THE PARKING LOT at Cypress High, Courtney mumbled a hasty goodbye, jumped out of the Jeep, and practically sprinted down the sidewalk. Climbing out of the car, Lauren watched in dismay as her daughter’s fair head disappeared into a bustling crowd of students.
“Good morning.”
Lauren turned to find an attractive man watching her over the roof of his red Mazda RX7. Thirtyish, lean build, broad shoulders, dark complexion.
“Was that Courtney I just saw, like hell on wheels?” he asked.
“Yeah. She couldn’t wait to get at her studies.”
“You must be Mrs. Goldstein.”
“Starkley. I use my maiden name.”
The man locked his car with his remote and joined her on the sidewalk. She noted that he took great care in the way he dressed—straight out of GQ—tan slacks, forest green V-neck sweater, white shirt open at the collar, Italian loafers. He pressed a stack of file folders against his chest. His nails were buffed and manicured, no wedding ring. His black hair had been carefully styled and gelled to look slightly windblown, and his deep brown eyes studied her from behind fashionable tortoiseshell glasses.
“I’m Jim Perez.”
“Ah, Courtney’s math teacher.” Lauren shook his hand and let her coat swing open to reveal the gun holster and badge attached to her belt.
His eyes darted to the gun and went back to her face. “You’re a police officer?”
“Yes.”
“Wait, are you the Officer Starkley in the paper this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Courtney never mentioned you were in law enforcement,” he said with a guarded smile.
“My profession’s an embarrassment to her. She probably tells people I’m an actress, or a belly dancer. Anyone who doesn’t carry a gun.”
“At her age, you could be a saint and she’d still be embarrassed. I read about the … uh … unfortunate incident in Cypress Park.” His face took on an appropriately solemn expression. “Terrible tragedy for the student and her family. Who was she?”
Perez would be finding out soon enough at the teachers’ briefing. “Melissa Cox.”
“Oh dear. She’s one of my best students. Terrible. Do you have any leads?”
“We’re working on it. Maybe you can help by answering a few questions?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“Did Melissa stand out in any way from other girls?”
“Yes, of course. She’s very good at math. Always does her homework.”
“Other than her intelligence, Mr. Perez.”
“Oh … I see. Well ….” His face and neck flushed red against his white collar. “Well … she is … uh ….” His free hand inadvertently made rounded shapes in the air.
“Well developed?”
“Uh, yes. And she … you know, dresses …”
“Provocatively?”
“Yes. Well, no. I mean, no more so than the other girls … it’s just that …”
“She looks more mature?”
“Yes.” He looked relieved when she filled in the blanks. “You must understand, Officer, my students are little more than children. I deal with their brains, not their ….”
“I understand perfectly. Do you have a close relationship with Melissa?”
His eyes narrowed. “Close?”
“Do you spend time with her after school? Help with her schoolwork? As you’ve helped Courtney?”
“Why, yes. Of course.” Perez’s voice cooled. He made a point of looking at his watch. “I’ve tutored Melissa. I tutor many students.”
“What I’m getting at, Mr. Perez, is that she may have shared a confidence with you. About a troublesome man in her life. Possibly someone following her?”
Perez lapsed into a long silence, which Lauren was finally compelled to break. “Does Melissa have a boyfriend?”
“I’ve seen her in the company of several boys.” He peered at her intently, his tone a bit disapproving. “She’s very popular.”
“Do you have names?”
“Kevin Dugan and Chris Larsen. Both seniors and star athletes.”
Lauren took out her notebook, jotted down the names. “Does she spend more time with one in particular?”
“Kevin. He walks her to my class. Though I haven’t seen him around lately.” Again, he looked at his watch. “I really must go, Officer. Class starts in a few minutes.”
“Just one more thing. Have you seen any men lurking around the school who don’t belong here?”
“Not that I recall on the spur of the moment.”
“Any of the boys here aggressive towards the girls?”
“Hmmm.” He pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “Check out the burger place across the street. Several boys hang out there, smoking. Undesirable types. They give the girls a hard time. Whistles, crude comments, and the like.”
“Any names?”
“Baxter Keily.” His face darkened. “Ted Spinoski.”
Lauren made quick notes. She wanted to ask him where he was last night, but she had already overstepped her bounds. Instead, she thanked him and handed him her card. “Please call me if you think of anything else.”
“Sure thing.”
She studied him as he hurried away. Mr. Perez struck her as a meticulous man who was very conscious of his appearance. She didn’t like the way he reddened when he spoke of Melissa, or his defensive posturing when she asked about their personal relationship. Contrary to what he would have her believe it was clear that Jim Perez did not view Melissa as a child. She wondered why he hadn’t asked about Melissa’s condition, but only if Lauren had any leads. More importantly, did Perez conduct any business in Oakland that put him in touch with teenage girls? That she would look into, despite the fact that his eyes weren’t blue. He wouldn’t be the first man to deceive police by wearing tinted lenses.
By now, Melissa’s remaining male teacher, Coach Tenney, would have a class in session, so Lauren sought out the principal.
***
Principal Lasko, a portly black man with close-cropped hair and a neatly groomed beard, immediately invited Lauren into his office and shut the door, appearing anxious to assist her in any way possible. Clearly, he wanted the offender to be caught before more stains blemished his institution. At her request, he provided a printout of the teaching staff and all other employees.
“Are any of your male teachers new to the school, Mr. Lasko?”
“Most of our staff have been with us for years.” He scanned the list. “Perez is new. Started this summer session. The only other new teacher is female.”
“Where did Perez transfer from?”
“Berkeley. A private school. St. Peter’s. All boys.”
Berkeley was next door to Oakland, near Lincoln High, where the two Oakland victims attended school. “Any of your male employees work part-time or live in Oakland or Berkeley?”
“The landscaper.” He cleared a space on his desk and circled the names of Perez and two other men on the list. “Dill Lafferty has been with us for years. I believe he also has clients in Berkeley. Coach Tenney has a
n Oakland address.”
And he had blue eyes. “Have you had any problems with Melissa?”
Lasko shifted his weight uncomfortably in his chair, and said in a lowered voice, “We’ve sent her home on several occasions for inappropriate dress.”
“Did she encourage attention of a sexual nature?”
“Not deliberately.” He sat back and folded his hands over his protruding stomach. “She’s actually a very sweet girl. Excellent student. I think she’s unaware of how much of a stir she makes with the boys.”
“I understand.” No surprise, Melissa caught the attention of boys without even trying. Beauty and naïveté made a dangerous combination. “Does Melissa date any boys here?”
“She does keep company with the best and the brightest. Just a couple weeks ago, two boys got into a fistfight over her. Don’t know the details. It was off campus. But both walked around school with bruised faces that week.”
Her interest spiked. “Can I get their names?”
“Kevin Dugan and Chris Larsen. Both seniors.”
The same boys Perez had mentioned. Lauren scribbled in her notebook. “Do these boys have a history of causing trouble?”
Lasko barked out a laugh. “No. They’re model students. Two of our best athletes. Chris is our starting quarterback. Kevin’s a track star.”
“Good students?”
“We require at least a C average to stay in sports.”
“Any trouble with girls, or the police?”
Lasko’s face tightened. He sat straighter in his chair. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Officer. Neither of these boys is your rapist.”
“I believe that, sir. These questions are meant to eliminate them as suspects.”
His expression relaxed. “No criminal record, far as I know. They’ve both had various girlfriends. Of course ….” His voice trailed off and his eyes narrowed.
“Anything you want to share? It’ll come out sooner or later.”
Lasko cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. “Chris was accused by a female student ….” He swallowed. “Of date rape. It was never reported to the police. The parents of both kids worked something out. But the girl was a troublemaker. Bad reputation.”