Black Dahlia

by Tiffany Patterson

“Great, we will see you in thirty minutes,” Ron said, before hanging up the phone.

  Mercedes didn’t like the sound of this. She wondered if she was being terminated, and if so, for what reason. She had an impeccable record as both a teacher and as an assistant principal. Mercedes had to admit that the job could be demanding. In fact, she’d had a couple of run-ins with new teachers, but nothing too serious. Besides, she never let differences get in the way of doing her job. Mercedes went upstairs to change into a plum colored business skirt and matching blazer. She was not sure what this meeting was about, but did not want to show up looking unprofessional. She thought about calling Raul or leaving a message with his assistant, but decided against it. She assumed she’d be back long before Raul got off. He didn’t have to know she ever left.

  Once Mercedes arrived at the school, she was greeted by Ron’s assistant, Marcy. Marcy welcomed Mercedes and told her Ron was still meeting with the superintendent, and that he’d be with her shortly. As she waited, Mercedes’ nervousness grew. By now, she figured this wasn’t something about one of their students or staff, but about her. She went over and over in her head any possible complaints of misconduct or disagreements she had with parents or staff. She remembered none. There were a few minor disagreements of teaching style she had with members of the teaching staff, but nothing of major importance. After about ten minutes of waiting, Ron’s door opened and he came out to meet Mercedes. Ron was about five-eleven and his almond colored skin looked a little darker than the last time she’d saw him. She figured his tan was a result of his recent vacation to the Bahamas with his wife and children.

  “Mercedes, thank you for coming down on such a short notice,” he greeted her with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Mercedes wanted to ask if she really had a choice, but held her tongue.

  “Hi Ron, it’s no problem. Can you tell me what this is about?” she asked not wanting to beat around the bush with small talk.

  Ron nodded. “Why don’t we step into my office? Superintendent Walters is here as well,” Ron said, gesturing for Mercedes to proceed to his office. As she entered the room, she saw the superintendent sitting at the wooden round table, in the corner of Ron’s office. Mercedes moved to the table and greeted Superintendent Walters with a handshake. Mrs. Walters was about five inches shorter than Mercedes, but her professional attitude and demeanor gave her a commanding presence. Mrs. Walters spent two decades teaching and then working her way up on the administration side of the Atlanta Public School system before taking over the role of superintendent of this charter school system. She was responsible for the oversight of five major charter schools in Atlanta. Mercedes looked at the woman’s peach colored skin, greying hair that actually served to give her a presence of regality. Superintendent Walters was a tough leader, but she had always been fair and commanded the best of her staff and her students. Mercedes could tell by the look on Walters’ face, this meeting was not a friendly call.

  “Please, have a seat, Ms. Holmes,” Walters requested as she sat in her own seat. Ron followed, pulling out a chair for himself. It wasn’t until she sat down, that Mercedes noticed an opened laptop in the middle of the table, and an envelope sitting on the table next to it.

  Superintendent Walters started. “Ms. Holmes, some disturbing bit of information has come to our attention.”

  Mercedes raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.

  “A couple of days ago, Mr. Sherman and I received separate packages in the mail. They were DVDs of some recorded, uh, performances of yours.” She had said the word ‘performances’, with a hint of admonishment.

  “I’m sorry, you said you received videotaped performances of me? What were these performances?” Mercedes believed Walters was talking about her burlesque performances, but did not want to assume. She remembered back to when Devyn had been blackmailed by her ex after he secretly recorded them having sex. She didn’t want to believe someone was doing the same thing to her.

  “They looked like they were taking place at some club, in front of an audience,” Walters stated. Mercedes almost sighed in relief. She was relieved to find out that this wasn’t some sort of sex tape, but then the realization that one of her burlesque performances had been mailed to her bosses left her stunned.

  “Like I was saying, Mr. Sherman and I received these DVDs on the same day. At first, we did not think much of it. We realize our staff has a life outside of this building, and you weren’t doing anything illegal. However…” Superintendent Walters paused and looked at Ron. Mercedes felt her heart sink as she looked between Ron and Walters.

  She knew she was not going to like what Walters said next.

  “…the following day,” he continued. “We began getting calls and emails from some of our students’ parents. It seems whoever sent this DVD to us, also sent it to a number of parents. Many of them were understandably upset.” Mercedes nearly slumped back in her chair. She felt like she’d just gotten the wind knocked out of her. Did someone really send the parents of her students a video of her burlesque performances? Mercedes made it a point not to get too personal with the members of her staff. She never told anyone at her school she danced burlesque. Superintendent Walters was right, what each staff member did in their private life, was just that, private. Mercedes was not ashamed of her performing, and never would be. However, she recognized that not everyone was as progressive as she was, and that some people saw burlesque as a form of whoring oneself, for lack of a better term. Mercedes was all too familiar with the strict rigidity of the super religious and conservative crowd, having been raised in it.

  “Is that the DVD?” Mercedes asked motioning toward the DVD case that sat next to the laptop.

  “Yes, it is,” Walters said, nodding her head.

  “Can I see it?” Mercedes saw Ron look questioningly at Walters, before she nodded her head in agreement. Ron slid the laptop closer to him and placed the DVD to play it. Within seconds, Mercedes saw herself on stage at the Black Kitty dancing to Nina Simone’s Feeling Good as she danced and stripped down to her revealing thong and pasties. Out of the corner of her eye, Mercedes saw Ron avert his eyes from the screen and clear his throat before turning off the DVD.

  “This note was also attached to the copy that was sent to the parents,” Ron said sliding over a folded white piece of paper.

  The note read: Is this who you want teaching your children?

  Mercedes closed her eyes as all of this sank in. Whoever was stalking her definitely had not given up. They were now targeting her career. Mercedes felt the need to defend herself.

  “This is ridiculous. Whoever sent these letters is violating my privacy,” she said trying to keep her voice even.

  “Well technically, Ms. Holmes you’re performing for the public so no privacy violation was committed,” Walters reminded Mercedes.

  “Yes, but the sending of these videos to the parents? That has to be some kind of violation of privacy. As you stated Superintendent Walters, what staff does in our private time should not be called into question as long as it is not illegal. I have never done anything against the law, and I certainly never brought anything to do with my performing into my professional career,” Mercedes was barely keeping her rising anger in check.

  “Ms. Holmes, that is our school’s policy, but now that this has been brought to the attention of the parents of our school, we have to look further into this. A number of parents are upset about what they saw. And...” Walters held up her hand to stop Mercedes who opened her mouth to defend herself, “...and I agree with you, nothing on this tape is illegal, but there is a matter of ethics. Some parents are questioning if someone who strips on the side can be a good role model for their children.” Walters’ last comment made Mercedes see red.

  “Burlesque is not stripping, and though I personally do not believe there is anything wrong with strippers or stripping, I must inform you that burlesque has a long history of performance in this country and many others. It is a legitimate art form.”
Mercedes was pissed. She was angered that whoever was stalking her would target her career like this, and she was angered at the way Walters was looking down her nose at burlesque performers.

  “Ms. Holmes, I understand you’re upset, but you must understand our position. Parents are contacting us asking if we are teaching their children to strip in class. I know that sounds preposterous to you, but until we do a full investigation and make sure no codes of conduct were violated, we’re going to place you on administrative leave.” Mercedes was confused. Administrative leave? They were in the middle of summer. There weren’t any classes going on. What exactly would this administrative leave entail?

  “So, what does this mean?” she asked looking Superintendent Walters directly in the eye.

  “Mercedes,” Ron interjected, “We’ll have to review with our legal team to make sure your performing does not violate the ethical clause in your contract, and then we will meet with the board of directors to see what they want to do. We are also meeting with the parents who’ve shown concern over the DVD,” he finished.

  “How long will that take?” Mercedes asked, looking between the both of them.

  Superintendent Walters spoke up this time, “Well some members of the board are on vacation and I am going away next week for two weeks--”

  “So this could take all the way up to the fall semester, possibly longer?” Mercedes asked, cutting Walters off.

  Ron quickly interjected, “We will try to get this over and done with as soon as possible. Mercedes you know you are one of our most prized employees.” Mercedes looked at Ron. He appeared sincere, but she knew this was over his head.

  “Could I lose my job over this?” Mercedes asked Superintendent Walters.

  Walters avoided eye contact and Mercedes had her answer. “We are hoping it does not come to that,” she responded.

  Mercedes sat through the rest of the meeting in a daze. She was livid, but felt powerless because she had no idea who could be behind this. It’d been two weeks and they were still no closer to finding out who could be stalking her. Mercedes felt as if she were having some sort of out of body experience as she watched Superintendent Walters’ lips move, and sound come out, but the words weren’t registering. Mercedes was too busy trying to piece together when this stalker had time to record her and send the DVDs out. There was no timestamp on the tape, but Mercedes remembered she last performed that set back in May. From the angle of the tape, it looked as if the person was standing somewhere in the back audience. That narrowed the list down to hundreds of people. Anyone could buy a ticket to a performance and have a seat in the audience. While cameras and filming weren’t allowed in the Black Kitty, it wouldn’t be too difficult to sneak a camera in and film a performance. Mercedes tried to focus on what Superintendent Walters and Ron were saying, but her brain was too clogged with the different possibilities. Whoever this was had access to her in a place she had come to feel the safest. The Black Kitty had become a sanctuary to her, of sorts, and now she felt violated. First her home and now this. When the meeting finally ended, Ron promised he would keep in touch and update Mercedes on everything that was going on. Mercedes mumbled a response to Ron, shook hands with the superintendent and hurried to her car.

  Once in her car, Mercedes didn’t know what to do. She wanted to call Devyn and vent to her but Devyn was in South America with her husband and children. She didn’t want to interrupt her vacation. Mercedes thought about going back to Raul’s place, but did not want to be alone. She felt open and exposed and vulnerable, which was a feeling she worked hard never to feel. Part of the reason she’d started burlesque so long ago was to overcome her fear of being exposed or vulnerable, by facing what most people deemed their greatest fear—being naked in front of an audience. Mercedes believed that if she could let go of that fear, she wouldn’t feel so weak when it came to emotions and relationships. But now, here she was feeling vulnerable and, admittedly a little fearful. Whoever this was knew her movements, when she was out of town, and when she performed. Mercedes couldn’t believe that just this morning she was starting to think this nightmare was over and that whoever this was had forgotten about her. It seems she was not that lucky. Mercedes contemplated what to do. Devyn was away, Raul was working, and most of her other friends were either out of town or at work. It was the middle of the day and she didn’t know where to go. The decision was made for her when her phone began ringing.

  “Mercedes, where are you?” Raul’s voice boomed through her car speakers. She’d programmed her phone to ring and be answered through the car speakers to allow for hands free conversation while driving. She heard an odd note she’d never heard in Raul’s voice before. He almost seemed worried? Or maybe afraid?

  “I, uh, I’m in my car right now,” she responded feeling a little apprehensive to tell him she’d left the house without informing him.

  “In your car where?” Raul asked immediately, not missing a beat.

  Mercedes sighed. She knew he was not going to like her response. “I had a meeting with my school principal and superintendent,” she stopped just short of telling him what the meeting was about.

  “School's out for the summer. What was your meeting about?” Mercedes found herself perturbed that he would question her about her whereabouts, she was a grown woman, not some invalid who needed to be taken care of twenty-four seven. She was already angry after what happened in the meeting she’d just been in, and now Raul’s tone was making her feel even more irritated.

  “So what, I can’t even go to my job without having to check-in with you? Is that what you’re saying?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt a pang of guilt. Raul had unselfishly opened up his home to her to keep her safe, and now she was acting like an adolescent who couldn’t get her way.

  “That’s exactly what the hell I’m saying. Or have you forgotten there is someone out there who means you real harm?” Mercedes was taken aback by the commanding tone she heard in Raul’s voice. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who was angry.

  “I haven’t forgotten. I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” she said dejectedly.

  “What happened?” he asked as if he knew the reason she’d been summoned to her school had something to do with her stalker. Maybe he could hear it in her voice. He had a way of reading her that unnerved and comforted her at the same time.

  She sighed, “My principal, superintendent and some parents were sent a video of one of my performances. I was placed on administrative leave,” as the words fell from her lips, Mercedes felt her anger begin to rise again.

  “Come to my office. Now,” he requested.

  There it was again--the serious, take-no-prisoners, Raul Santiago. This was the side of Raul she knew had been forged at West Point and in the military. The side that made him so good at his job as a security specialist. It was also, unfortunately, a side that endeared him to her a little more.

  “I’m about twenty minutes away from your office,” Mercedes told him.

  “I know. I will see you in twenty minutes,” Raul responded, before hanging up. Mercedes sat stunned, for the second time that day. He knew? How could he possibly know how far she was from his office? He knew where her school was, but she didn’t actually say she was still in the school’s parking lot. After a few minutes to compose her thoughts, Mercedes went to program Raul’s office address into her GPS and saw it was already set. She tried to recall if she’d put his address in, but remembered that Raul had driven her car when they picked it up from the dealer after her tires were fixed. She assumed he input his office address in her GPS and possibly a tracker, and that was how he knew where she was. A little part of her felt safer just knowing he was keeping track of her, but she would definitely ask him about it. Twenty-five minutes later, Mercedes was pulling up into the parking lot of the building that housed Raul’s offices. He was already outside waiting for her. She pulled into the closest parking space, and before she could even finish turning the ignition off, he was opening her car
door.

  “Are you all right?” he asked staring intently into her eyes, trying to discern her mood. He gripped both of her arms.

  Mercedes nodded, “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Raul stared at her for another heartbeat, as if he thought she wasn’t being completely forthcoming. “Come with me,” he said as he closed her car door. He placed his hand at the small of her back and quickly strode to the elevators that would take them to his office.

  Once they made it to his office, Raul pulled Mercedes down the hall, past his assistant’s desk. Mercedes was barely given time to say a quick hello to the older woman, before she found herself in what she presumed was Raul’s office. His large corner office was decorated in dark earthy colors, with a few plants placed around the room, which gave it an inviting feel. There was a large cherry wood desk in the center of the room, and a dark leather couch off to the side, at the back of the office. Mercedes heard a click as the office door closed. For some reason this small sound, instead of a loud slam caused Mercedes even more worry. She knew Raul was angry at her for leaving and not telling him.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said gruffly, once she was seated.

  “Well, hello to you to,” she said, defiantly. He wasn’t the only one who could be angry. Hell, she was the one who had just been placed on administrative leave.

  Raul leaned against this desk, and crossed his legs at the ankles in front of him, as he waited for Mercedes to explain.

  “Tell me what happened,” he ordered again.

  She felt like a child being scolded, which she hated. To place them on equal footing, she stood and took a few steps back to give herself some breathing room. The intensity of his gaze on her made her feel the need to put some distance between them.

  “I got a call from the principal of my school, Ron Sherman, a couple hours after you left,” she finally began, “he said he needed to see me as soon as possible. He didn’t tell me what for. When I got there the superintendent of schools was there,” Mercedes paused to catch her breath. She looked at Raul and saw she held his full attention. The way he was looking at her rattled her for many reasons.