A hand took the tiara from her and held her hands gently.
She glanced up slowly to see who it was and saw that it was Micah. He had his locks down and around his shoulders and one of his inappropriate white t-shirts and jeans. He looked so handsome and casual. Her heart broke afresh. Micah was a principled guy who lived his life the right way and she had tried to punish him for it.
He looked at the tiara. "It looks tattered."
"I just bro…broke it." Deidra hiccupped. "My life is bro…broken, just like it." She sniffed and swiped her hand across her runny nose.
Micah handed her a kerchief. His eyes were brown pools of sympathy and he sat quietly while she sobbed. She was sure her face was swollen beyond all recognition because her eyes felt so raw she couldn't cry anymore.
"So what does two suitcases and a tearful Deidra mean?" Micah asked her casually.
"Means I got kicked out of the house and I have nowhere to go."
"Saw you on TV this morning," Micah said quietly, "that was a nice piece of nugget you did on the Fruits of The Spirit. You said, 'the out-working of a life controlled by the Holy Spirit is: "Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, Self-control. May we each day say, No to our flesh, and Yes to the Spirit.'"
Deidra nodded. "I just read what they give me."
"It was a good reading," Micah said. "And I am about to demonstrate a fruit of the spirit," He laughed disparagingly, "I even prayed about it. Can you believe it? When I saw you lugging your two suitcases up the walkway I said Lord, I am not over the thought of watching Deidra suffer. I actually like it Lord but I was prompted by that unseen force to be kind, so I decided to be kind. I guess I am saying yes to the spirit."
Deidra sniffed.
He pulled up her chin and looked into her eyes. "Don't let me regret it."
Deidra nodded. "I must look a mess."
"Yes and I have never seen you look more beautiful. Let's go. I asked my mother to put you up for a while."
Deidra warmed at his compliment.
"I can't stay at Doctor Bancroft house," Deidra said. "He must hate me for what I did to you."
"You wish," Micah said grabbing one of her suitcases effortlessly. "Dr. Bancroft is hardly at home and will probably not blink an eye if he sees you at the house. My father expends minimal energy on hate or love. Usually, he is too busy to bother about either. My mother is the one you should be concerned about! She is putting you up on one condition."
"What?" Deidra asked cautiously.
"You have to give her ten hours of volunteer time at the golden age home that she runs. She has a theory that working with old people will reform you."
"Let's go." Micah headed for his car.
Deidra hobbled after him, dragging her bag.
When she got into the car, Micah turned on the CD player. The song playing was Coldplay's Fix You. He hummed along to it.
Deidra listened to the words, too tired to talk to Micah and then she realized that she had never really talked to Micah. She just leered at him, flung herself at him, offered him her body—like she was some kind of sacrifice. A man as sensitive as Micah must have found her overbearing and repulsive. She offered no intellectual stimulation; she had been no better than a prostitute in her approach to him.
When he turned into his parent's driveway a light drizzle had begun and she was happy that Micah had helped her because a cold and drizzling night on campus with nowhere to go, and a rapist running loose would be the beginnings of a horror story.
He stopped and the porch lights came on, illuminating the evening with its glare.
"Are you going to try to fix me?" she asked referring to the song.
Micah shook his head. "You are going to fix yourself. I am looking forward to it."
He pulled her bags out of the car and held an umbrella over her head as she made her way up the steps.
The front door opened and Micah looked at her. "Here you are."
"Thank you Micah." Deidra said tremulously.
Micah nodded. "Just a favor for a former fiancée." He grinned at her. "Be good."
He left her standing on the front porch and headed back to his car with a confident swagger.
Chapter Eighteen
Natasha and Tony spent a week and a half in Media Room 3. They spent three hours there each day, from two to five. They had silently gathered data on all the 14 males that worked there and had contact with both Penelope and Jiselle.
They had tried to find out where each person was at the time of the rapes. Both of them had questioned various persons at separate times and had both come up with two main suspects.
James Hill and Gilbert Hibbert.
Both men had participated in, what the crew fondly called, background people sounds on both nights of the rape. One crewmember said that made them hoarse after screaming and shouting for long periods, and both men chewed gum copiously.
Natasha had gone back in her notes and seen where Penelope had said that she preferred Juicy Fruit and the rapist had chewed that.
Natasha and Tony watched keenly and noticed that both men chewed Juicy Fruit.
They were playing a cat and mouse game with their quarries, waiting for one of them to snap. In fact, they were now sitting in Taj's office to get his opinion on some sort of rapist profile.
They had done extensive background checks on both Gilbert Hibbert and James Hill and wanted to know whom they should bait.
Taj had been caught up in an extensive meeting with fellow staff members for the past ten minutes so Natasha and Tony sat down and waited and listened to the soothing music on the interoffice intercom.
When he waltzed back into the office, he kissed Natasha on the lips lingeringly and then looked over at Tony. "Sorry Tony, haven't seen my lady police for a whole..." he looked on his watch "eight hours."
Tony grinned. "Understood sir."
"Now what can I do for you detectives?"
"We have two very likely suspects," Natasha said, "and we want to catch one of them in the act."
"By using Natasha as bait," Tony said.
Taj frowned. "I don't like the sound of that as I've told you before." He looked at Natasha. "And yes I have heard your arguments."
Natasha was about to protest but closed her mouth, "So we don't need to go into that again."
Taj shrugged. "I might bring up my concerns again later."
"Anyway," Natasha said, "our first suspect is James Hill, aged 19…second year student in Animations. He is stepbrother to one Deidra Durkheim."
Taj raised his brow.
"His mother is Marcie Gingham. You may have heard of her, she's a lawyer and opposition senator. He is an animator working on a project in Media Room 3. He has had contact with both rape victims in the past. He works as an assistant to Gilbert Hibbert for three hours every day.
Our next suspect is Gilbert Hibbert… final year student in Mass Communications. He is also one of the founding students of MFTV. He is heavily involved in the morning variety program, Wake Up Mount Faith. He is one of the hosts and produces it along with Penelope Henry who is one of our rape victims.
He also directs a new animation program they have for the station called What Would Jesus Do. One story was written by Jiselle Newman, who is another of our rape victims."
"What about their relationships with women?" Taj asked.
"Well," Natasha said, "Gilbert is constantly asking girls out and not getting a favorable response. He asked me out a whole second after meeting me. He doesn't have a girlfriend. Apparently his last girlfriend left him abruptly without an explanation."
"Whilst, James Hill is a little timid around women," Tony said. "He confessed to me that dominant women frightened him."
Taj nodded. "Were there any clues left on the victims after the rapes?"
"Nope," Tony said. "Seems as if he is cognizant of the whole evidence gathering thing."
"Did he say anything to the victims?"
"Yes," Natasha said. "
Both girls reported that he said he was going to teach them a lesson and that they were too high and mighty."
"And this diatribe was accompanied by violence?"
"In one case." Natasha responded. "Jiselle was beaten in her stomach area. Penelope was just raped."
"So he is a selfish rapist," Taj said and then clarified. "Selfish rapists do not demonstrate any care toward victims, they say derogatory things and love to humiliate the victim."
Natasha frowned. "Isn't rape by definition a selfish act?"
"Yes." Taj nodded. "But some rapists actually demonstrate unselfish tendencies. They appear to be caring…wants the victim to participate…might even attempt foreplay. They might even act like a lover."
"Oh." Natasha frowned. "That's not the case for our two victims."
Taj handed them a checklist. "I think you are looking for an angry retaliatory rapist."
Natasha read off the list: "High levels of physical and sexual aggression, uses blitz attack, gets even with women for real or imaginary wrongs, uses sex as a weapon to punish women, usually not premeditated, encounters may be very short, uses their fists, hitting the victim in the stomach usually."
Tony raised his eyebrow. "That's spot on. Which one of them should Natasha bait?"
Taj contemplated. "Based on your profiles of both men, I am thinking...do you have pictures of both of them?"
"Yes." Natasha pulled out two photos of the men.
Taj looked over both men and then joked. "I feel like a fortune teller here, but based on the pattern of the rapes." He pointed at one of the guys. "He is the one!"
Natasha and Tony looked at each other. "Got it."
***
"Hey Deidra!" Deidra was stepping out of Media Room 4 when Gilbert Hibbert was stepping out of Media Room 3. "You did well this morning."
"Thanks," Deidra said dully. She didn't like Gilbert and thought he was too earnest and clingy.
"Want to have lunch today?"
"No thanks." Deidra said. "I am going to volunteer over at Rising Sun Golden Aged Home and then I have to head back for a class."
"What's up with your car?" Gilbert asked.
"Under lock and key," Deidra said. "I am now an immobile member of the school fraternity. I have memorized the bus system by heart."
"Want me to pick you up after volunteer work?"
"Nah," Deidra said. "Mrs. B. likes when I suffer unnecessarily but she usually drops me at the North side of campus after work."
Gilbert grinned. "It wouldn't be any problem. I could relieve her today."
Deidra shook her head. "I don't want you to go out of your way." She decided to tell him the truth. "I don't want to go out with you!"
She then walked off. It was ten o'clock and she had to hurry.
She almost walked straight into James when she left Gilbert.
"Hi," she said to James.
"Hi." James grinned. "How is life?"
"Tough," Deidra said. "I am staying with the Bancrofts and they have rules for everything. If I breathe, I break a rule, and they have me wearing granny clothes."
James laughed. "Jeans and warm tops is what all the girls are wearing, especially in this weather."
"Exactly," Deidra said. "I don't dress like all the girls here."
James shook his head. "You know, for the past two weeks I actually miss you some mornings, even though you are loud, unfriendly, and mean. I kinda miss you sometimes."
Deidra grinned. "Trust me twerp, I miss you sometimes too, and I miss my room and Greek yogurt. The Bancrofts serve porridge every morning and expect me to drink it. Mrs. Bancroft may seem like a loveable person outside but I tell you, she's like an army sergeant at home and at work."
James searched in his pockets and drew out some money. "I know the family is on Deidra strike but I thought I'd give you this. I think it's sort of sad how you were thrown out."
Tears came to Deidra's eyes. "James Hill. You are a still a beast but I can't take your money...thanks but I am saving and living within my means." She grabbed James and hugged him briefly. "And after I have been so mean to you!"
"You're my sister." James' voice cracked. "You are supposed to be mean."
Deidra shook her head. "You are going to make me cry and I can't miss my bus." She waved to him as she walked to the bus stop.
Deidra left class at seven in the evening. She yawned widely. She was doing an Associate Degree in Interior Design and found History of World Architecture interesting at the best of times but today she felt weary.
Mrs. Bancroft had assigned her to a particularly difficult elderly man today that she had to follow around while he berated her for being slow. Then she had that class, Elements of Space Tectonics, Surface. The lecturer for that one put the 'b' in boring.
She was also ridiculously hungry but had no hopes of relieving her hunger at home. The Bancroft's housekeeper cooked like she blindly threw spices in everything—every spice but salt. Deidra ruminated.
She had a long walk over to Mount Faith Drive. She longingly looked over into the parking lot where some students were heading to their cars and she wished that her father had left her with the car.
She hadn't realized that she had stopped until she felt a hand over her mouth.
"Don't scream bitch!" the voice said huskily.
She tried to turn around but he was frog marching her away from the lights and unto the playing field near the bleachers.
Deidra felt pure fear. She tried to scream but he clamped his hand over her mouth tighter. Oh God! Deidra thought panicking. She was going to be raped for real. She didn't want to be violated.
She acted like she was sexually experienced. She had even told fibs about sleeping with several men but the truth was: this would be her first time. It was all in the name of appearing more sophisticated and worldly.
She tried to fight back but his hands were like steel. She wished now that she had gone to the gym and lifted some weights. Her thoughts were feverish and she was frightened. She didn't want this. God, I don't want this! She thought. Please God help me!
They reached the darkest part of the bleachers. He tied her mouth with a handkerchief forcing her on her knees while he stood behind her and then he tied her hands.
"Fight back and I kill you," He husked, "high and mighty acting bitch. Do you think you are better than me, huh?"
Deidra was sobbing in the kerchief. She was kneeling on stones and they were digging into her knees.
She trembled and waited for his filthy hands to touch her once more and when they didn't she got up hurriedly almost hitting her head under the stand. She spun around to see where he was but all she saw was that there was a figure in black behind him that had him held in a hemlock.
"Fight back you filthy swine." It was Natasha's voice. "Come on. Here's a woman who is not afraid of you." She released him. "Fight back!"
The guy took a swing at Natasha and she ducked; kicking him off balance and into the stones.
"Get up!" She growled and then kicked him in the balls. "Fight!"
The guy howled in pain. He couldn't move. The pain was paralyzing.
"That's enough Natasha," Tony said behind her as he hauled the guy out into the light near the glare of the playing field lights.
Deidra was trembling with the after effects of fear. She followed them. There were a few security personnel out there, about five, along with Natasha and Tony. She looked over on her attacker and her lips trembled.
It was Gilbert Hibbert!
Tony belatedly remembered Deidra and untied her mouth and then her arms. "Sorry we allowed him to go this far," he said to Deidra apologetically, "but we had to be sure to catch him in the act. You wouldn't believe some of the technicalities that some of these rapists are using in court to get away."
Deidra was trembling with the aftershocks of fear mixed with panic. She barely heard what Tony was saying. She just nodded.
Natasha handcuffed Gilbert. "You are under arrest..." she carried him off to the car shovin
g him into the back seat. Deidra heard a thud and a howl.
"Sounds like Gilbert knocked his head on the top of the car door." Tony looked at her. "Want me to take you to the clinic?"
Deidra shook her head.
"Anywhere, I can drop you?"
"Could you drop me off at the Business Center?" She asked trembling.
Tony nodded.
When she got into the car Tony said, "we've been watching Gilbert Hibbert all day. At first, we were going to use Natasha as bait but we saw him talking to you and we saw his reaction to your rejection of him and then we split up. I followed you all day and Natasha followed him. We estimated that the nearest dark place to your class would be near the bleachers. Campus security turned off the lights closest to the bleachers to give him a sense of security."
Deidra was feeling numb and dirty. She got out of the car swiftly when Tony stopped.
"Thanks for the ride. Can you... can you get my books and bag?" She asked. Her lips were still involuntarily trembling.
"Sure thing," Tony said. "Will drop them off at the business center tomorrow."
She nodded and walked into the center past the courtyard and up the stairs to Micah's office. She needed Micah now like a homing pigeon needed to find its nest.
He was standing at his file cabinet. He was locking up to leave. She headed straight for him, a sob on her lips.
He just hugged her unquestioningly, and she clung to him—sobbing and incoherent.
It was much later, after a cup of chamomile tea, and enclosed in Micah's jacket that Deidra could talk and relate the whole experience to him.
He sat beside her, offering silent support.
"I am sorry again Micah," Deidra said, "to accuse you of rape. I realized just now what that meant."
Micah nodded. He pushed her hair behind her ears.
"I forgive you." He looked at her. This was Deidra stripped. Not of her clothes but of all artifice and fakeness.
He leaned down and placed his lips on hers softly. It was a feathery kiss.
"Kisses are always better when they are voluntarily given," he said to her softly.
Deidra touched her lips softly. "Thank you."
Tattered Tiara (The Bancrofts: Book 2) Page 11