***
After much thought, Delia decided to go through with her plan to bring out the real Chase. Considering what had happened or almost happened in her apartment, she thought about forgetting the whole idea. Maybe it was safer to have C.J. around. But she was proud of herself for controlling that situation before it went too far, so she felt confident that she would be able to avoid further encounters.
Her plan consisted of the study of sound waves which in fact were trigonometric functions. She wouldn’t study just any sound either, she was going to focus on the music of Frank Sinatra.
She had to wait for a day in which C.J. decided to show up for class since he came as infrequently as possible. But as soon as she saw him walk in one Tuesday morning, she started to put her plan in action. She set up the computer program she had written that would display the sinusoidal functions that the music played.
C.J. entered forty minutes late and took his normal seat at the back of the classroom. He slouched and acted disinterested in anything and everything as he always did. Delia was sure it had to be an act. When they were on the cruise together, he was so lively and caring and fun. The person he purported to be now was melancholy and troublesome. She wondered how he would react to her plan.
Delia finished what she was writing on the board then she began playing “Fly me to the Moon.” Even though, C.J. tried to play it cool, she noticed his eyes expand a little.
“Uh, Ms. Clark, what is this music?” Rachel asked.
“It’s Frank Sinatra and it’s going to help us with our lesson today. I wrote a program that breaks down the pitches of the various instruments into different sinusoidal functions. Do you see the sine and cosine curves we’ve been studying?” She pointed to where the projector showed the equations and the graphs.
“We’re gonna use this oldies music to learn math. I bet that’s the only thing it’s good for,” Zack said.
“I disagree.” Delia began moving desks out of the way and a couple of the students helped her. “This music is also great for dancing.”
“Dancing?” Angie said, rolling her eyes. “No one can dance to this stuff.”
“Well, I’m going to show you. Let’s see, I’m gonna need a victim … I mean a volunteer,” she said jokingly. A few of the students raised their hands, but Delia focused in on C.J. “I think the latecomer is going to have to be the victim. Would you join me C.J.?”
“I think I’ll pass,” he said without moving an inch in his seat.
Delia predicted such a response. “Aww, what’s the matter? Afraid everyone will see you’re not as smooth as you think you are?” she teased in a mock baby voice.
C.J. clenched his jaw momentarily. It was such a brief lapse in his stoic cool that only Delia noticed. And then, just as quickly, the charm returned.
“No,” he said with a sly charismatic grin. “I was just looking out for your well being. ‘Cause once I touch you, you’re never gonna want me to stop.”
Delia’s heart skipped a beat. What if her plan had backfired?
C.J. stood from his desk, grabbed her hand, spun her around and dipped her before beginning a two-step to the music. Seconds later, she wasn’t dancing with C.J. anymore. She was dancing with Chase. She felt light headed and giddy as the room seemed to empty of students, leaving only her and Chase. Delia was transported back in time to the cruise. The touch of him, the smell of him, the feel of her hand in his made her weak.
When the song ended, they stood staring into each other’s eyes, until the whispers from the other students snapped her back into reality. She noticed that Ian in particular had a strange expression on his face, as if he knew something she didn’t. Delia wondered whether Chase had informed him of what happened on the cruise.
Delia flushed with embarrassment. What a spectacle of herself she was making. How could she let a teenager in high school do this to her? She needed to get control of the situation.
“Um … why don’t we um … ” Mercifully, the bell rang, saving her from having to come up with something logical to say. She dismissed the students and mumbled something about homework being due. She couldn’t quite remember.
Chase hi-fived a couple of the male students in the class then grabbed his backpack. Delia sat at her desk and tried to calm the flush that had overwhelmed her body. She was grateful that all the students and faculty headed to the gym for a pep rally, giving her at least thirty minutes or so to compose herself in private.
As she sat at her desk trying to wrap her head around her emotions and holding back sneezes, the next song started to play. Frank Sinatra’s “My Way.” Then she felt someone clasp her hand. It was Chase. He massaged her hand in that special way he had then he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. He danced with her without saying a word. He kissed the side of her head and caressed her cheek, but didn’t say a single thing. When the song ended, he left the room just as quietly and silently as he had entered it.
Yeah, her plan had definitely backfired.
Chapter 11
Delia realized she lived in Washington, D.C. and that it probably wasn’t safe for her to be out alone after dark. But she also realized that grades were due soon and that she was way behind on her work. She didn’t intend to stay at school for so long, but eventually, she looked at a clock and noticed it was well after ten. Rolling her neck in small circles, she massaged her bra strap creased shoulders under her yellow collared shirt. She was exhausted. Delia finished up what she was working on, collected her things, then locked up her classroom.
Since space was limited in Washington, D.C., Saxon Arms had decided to build up and down in order to expand the school in their recent renovations. Besides adding two floors to the math and science building, they also added a parking lot underneath the football field.
Before going to her car in the underground lot, she went to the front of the main building in search of the security officer that worked the evening shift. She had seen too many bad horror movies of unsuspecting women being attacked in parking garages and didn’t want to go to her car alone after ten o’clock at night. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find Ted, the almost elderly security guard. After all the grandfatherly reminders he’d given her about coming to find him if she needed an escort to her car, he was nowhere to be found.
To pass the time as she waited for Ted, she called Donna Lee to see if she had gotten the results from her test or had even made it to a doctor yet. As usual, there was no answer. Why was she avoiding her? Delia hung up her phone and checked her watch again while tapping her foot impatiently. This is ridiculous, she thought. The longer I stand here and wait for him, the later and more dangerous it gets. I’m just gonna go for it.
Somehow she reasoned that stairs were safer than the elevator. If she were attacked in a stairwell, there would be at least a glimmer of a possibility that someone could hear her screams. She shook off the thought. She was not going to be attacked.
Her heels clicked down the stairs faster than usual as an unexplainable anxiety crept into her mind. She paused when she reached her level and immediately noticed all the dark corners where danger could lurk. An ominous feeling befell her. Why had she never felt this uncomfortable before in this parking lot? Something wasn’t right. She decided to turn around, go back upstairs and wait for Ted as long as it took.
But as she turned, a man in dark clothing covered her head with a cloth bag. He tied the cord of the bag so tightly around her neck that it choked off her scream. She couldn’t breathe.
“Promise not to scream and I’ll let you breathe. For a little while longer at least,” he said with a digitally enhanced voice. She couldn’t respond. She couldn’t take in enough oxygen to form a simple ‘yes.’ Instead, she nodded with all the strength she had left. He relaxed his hold on the string around her neck enough for her to take in a long, hard, painful, breath and another and another. She began to hyperventilate when she felt someone else tying her legs together at the ankles. Then she passed out.
Sh
e awoke on an ambulance gurney with a male EMT holding an oxygen mask over her face. She blinked rapidly, trying to make the world stop spinning. Finally, she closed her eyes tightly for a moment then opened them again.
“She’s awake,” the EMT called over his shoulder. As her eyes focused, she realized the world wasn’t spinning. Rather, the red and white lights from the ambulance made everything look mobile.
A young blond woman in a trench coat stepped to her side, clasped her hand and asked, “Are you all right Mrs. James?”
Delia was too weak to correct her and say Ms. Clark. She simply nodded as she looked around trying to get her bearings.
“I’m Detective Nicholson. Do you know where you are?”
Looking around again, she recognized the street. It was her street. She sat up a little and pointed to a building to the left. “I live there,” she said softly. Her throat was so sore she found it difficult to talk.
“Do you know what happened to you?”
She nodded. “Someone attacked me. They put a bag over my head and tried to strangle me.”
“You don’t have any life threatening injuries, but we still want to take you to a hospital to have you evaluated.”
Delia looked down at her dirty and torn clothing. “Was I raped?”
“No. It seems we found you in time. But we have no idea what the intentions were of those men.”
“How did you find me?”
“The security guard at your school saw two men stuff you into the trunk of a car and drive off. He called the police and when they arrived you were found in an abandoned car on this street. Do you recognize that car?” Detective Nicholson pointed to a grey Nissan Altima.
Delia shook her head. She had never seen it before.
“Do you know why anyone would want to kidnap you then bring you to your own street?”
She shook her head again. She was at a loss.
“Do you know of anyone that would want to bring you harm?”
Again she had no idea.
“What do you remember about your attackers? A touch, a smell, a familiar phrase?”
Delia closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. She couldn’t remember anything but feelings of overwhelming fear. Her shoulders began to quiver as she could feel the cord around her neck again.
“It happened so fast. I really don’t —”
The detective put her arms around her as she burst into tears. “I know this is hard. I just need to ask you a few more questions, okay?”
Delia nodded as she fought back the tears.
“Do you have access to a large sum of money or anything?” the detective asked.
“My husband is quite wealthy, but we’re estranged.”
The detective grew quiet, as if deep in thought.
“At this point, my only idea is that maybe they were planning on kidnapping you and holding you for ransom. Maybe they thought they could extort money out of your husband.”
Delia sat motionless and silent on the gurney, trying to fully grasp the reality of the situation.
“Well, let’s get you to the hospital, get you fixed up and we’ll continue the questions there.”
Two hours later, Delia was back in her apartment tucked in under several blankets. She tried to curl herself into a ball so tight that she might disappear into the mattress. She wanted to disappear. She felt so vulnerable, so violated and so embarrassed by the whole situation that she didn’t even call Donna Lee to let her know what happened, not that she would have answered anyway. She just wanted the whole episode to go away. She wanted to believe it was just a bad dream.
Delia drifted in and out of a restless sleep until she was awakened by a forceful knock on her door. Panic struck her. She looked at the clock. Who would be knocking at 3:30 in the morning? What if the men that kidnapped her had come back to finish the job? If that were the case, why would they be knocking? She didn’t know the answer to either of these questions, but she did regret not calling her sister and spending the night with her so that she wouldn’t be alone. Now she was completely defenseless. But, if she had to die, she wasn’t going to die without a fight.
The pounding continued. Delia dashed to the kitchen and grabbed a frying pan, the only thing that resembled a weapon in her apartment. She had knives, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t imagine herself stabbing someone. She would much rather knock them over the head with the pan and hope they fell unconscious.
She looked at the pan skeptically. That only happens in movies, she thought. Realizing she couldn’t do this alone, Delia grabbed the phone and dialed 911 while crouching behind her lounge chair.
“Nine-one-one what is your emergency?”
“There’s someone banging at my door and I don’t know who it is,” she said to the operator. “I was attacked by two men tonight and I think they may be —”
“Delia, open up it’s me. Are you okay?”
It was Chase. A wave of relief washed over her. She let out a long sigh as the muscles relaxed in her body.
“Never mind. I’m fine,” she said as she dropped the phone and the frying pan and ran to the door. As soon as she opened the door, she flung herself into his arms. She buried her face into his T-shirt and began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Shh. It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he said as he held her tightly. He kissed the side of her head and brushed her tears away with his thumb.
“How did you know?” she asked between sobs.
“Don’t try to talk. Just relax and let me hold you.” He led her to bed and sat next to her. “I’m so glad they didn’t hurt you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if — ”
Delia sobbed harder at the realization that she could be dead right now. What caused her more anxiety was the fact that she didn’t know what provoked the attack. What did she do to deserve this?
***
Chase blamed himself. He should have been watching her more closely. He knew she was working late, so he had gone to take care of some business, thinking he would be back before she left. He liked to make sure she made it home safely each night. Trying to assert his authority, Ian probably had done this to scare both of them. He resented the fact that Chase had more control in the program. If that was how Ian wanted to play, so be it.
***
Delia awoke with a start. She was confused, sore, and had just had a dream that seemed too incredibly real. Had she really been bound and gagged by two disguised men?
She rubbed her eyes and moaned Chase’s name. The last thing she remembered was lying enveloped in his arms. Or was that a dream as well?
“He’s not here,” Donna Lee said from the kitchen. She came to Delia’s bed and handed her a cup of hot tea.
“What are you … ? How did you … ?”
“Why didn’t you call me, Dee? When my sister is attacked and almost killed, I think I have a right to know. I should be there for you.”
“I’m sorry. I was just so embarrassed, I didn’t want anyone to know.” Donna Lee shook her head disapprovingly. “I know it’s silly, I just felt so stupid for letting it happen. I should’ve known better.”
“Would you stop blaming yourself for things you can’t control? Under no circumstances should you be bound and gagged and stuffed into a car against your will. It wasn’t your fault.”
Delia wondered how she had found out all the details and how she knew to come over.
“Chase called me,” Donna Lee said, sensing Delia’s question. “He told me everything. He said he didn’t want you to be alone.”
“So why didn’t he stay?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her lips. She felt ridiculous craving the arms of a seventeen-year-old child, but at that moment, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more. She had to get herself together and get over him.
“So I guess you’ve gotten over the age thing,” Donna Lee said as she raised her eyebrows.
After taking a sip of tea to avoid eye contact with her sister, she said. “Of course, I haven
’t. I didn’t want him here for any romantic reasons. I just … it was just nice having a … maybe I should call Jason.”
Donna Lee rolled her eyes, stood up, and plopped into the lounge chair. Besides the bed, the kitchen table, and the armoire that housed her clothes and desktop computer, it was the only piece of furniture in her studio apartment.
“If you were about to say it was nice having a man around, then Jason doesn’t qualify. In my opinion, seventeen-year-old Chase acts more like a man than Jason ever will.”
Hiding herself behind her cup of tea, Delia didn’t respond. She didn’t want to think about Chase or Jason or the attack anymore. She thought of a way to shift the conversation.
Nobody Girl Page 8