Kisscut (16 page)

Lena sighed, sitting back in her chair. "We'll sit here all night until you tell me what I need to know."

They seemed to believe her, even though Lena wanted nothing more than to leave this school.

Brittany spoke first. "Lacey was only friends with her because of Mark."

"Mark Patterson, Lacey's brother?"

"Okay," Shanna said, holding out her hand palm up, her voice excited, as if she'd just been cracked by Lena's tough interrogation and was now giddy to tell them all they needed to know. "She was a whore."

"Shanna," Heather gawked.

"You know it's true," Shanna countered. "She slept around, and not just with Mark."

Brad stirred in his seat, looking as uncomfortable as Lena had ever seen him, which was saying a lot.

"Who did she sleep with?" Lena asked, looking at the boys. None of them would meet her eye.

"I don't know for sure, other than Mark," Shanna said, as if she were talking with one of her girlfriends over the lunch table. "But there were all kinds of rumors that she'd blow guys-"

"
Jeesh
," Heather interrupted. "She's dead, okay? Why do you have to say all this?"

"Because it's the truth!" Shanna countered, her voice high and excited.

Heather seemed angry. "It was just rumors. Nobody knows if they were true or not."

Lena asked, "What were the rumors?"

Shanna was more than happy to supply this. "She was having sex with some of the guys behind the gym after fifth period."

"Intercourse or blow jobs?" Lena asked, still watching the guys.

Shanna shrugged, giving Heather a sideways glance. "I wasn't there."

"Heather was?"

"Heather doesn't like boys," Shanna provided.

"Shut up!" Heather ordered, alarmed.

Lena wondered if she looked just as shocked as Brad. It was like having their very own
Jerry Springer
show right here in the school library.

"Okay," Lena said, holding up her hands, trying to rein this in. "What proof do you have that Jenny was sleeping around?"

The girls were silent, looking back and forth at each other.

"Nothing, right?" Lena asked. "You can't tell me any of the boys she was with?"

Carson stirred in his chair, but he didn't volunteer anything.

"Mark," Shanna said, shrugging. "But Mark was with, like, everybody."

"No kidding," Brittany muttered, with something like regret in her tone.

Lena sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She was getting the kind of headache that would probably last for the rest of the day. "Okay, then who started the rumor?"

They all shrugged. This seemed to be the universal teenage response to any question. Lena wondered if they would later have rotator cuff problems.

"Pansy Davis told me," said Shanna.

"She told me she slept with Ron Wilson Thursday night," Brittany countered. "And you know Ron was at Frank's house that night."

"Frank said he sneaked out!" Shanna squealed.

"Stop, stop," Lena said, holding up her hands. It was like being nibbled to death by ducks. "None of y'all remembers where you heard the rumor?"

"It was just a known thing," Heather told Lena. "I mean, I don't remember who told me, but Jenny just acted weird, okay? She would go off with boys she didn't know. Boys, like, in twelfth grade."

"And you don't know their names?"

Heather shook her head. "They're seniors."

"Not popular seniors?" Lena asked.

"Some of them were skanky," Brittany provided. "Not seniors I would know. Not popular, okay? Sort of like Jenny."

"Did she ride the bus home with them?"

"They had cars," Heather said. "Seniors are allowed to drive."

"Do you remember any of the cars?"

Heather shook her head no, but Brittany snapped her fingers. "There's one I remember." She turned to Shanna. "Do you remember that cool black Thunderbird?"

"A new one or an old one?" Lena asked.

"The older kind that's really big in the back," Shanna said. "It was really loud, like something was wrong with the engine or something."

"Did the driver go to this school?"

They exchanged glances again. "Maybe," Brittany said.

"I don't think so," Shanna added.

Heather shrugged. "I don't pay attention to cars. It doesn't sound familiar."

Lena looked at the boys. "Do any of y'all recognize the car?"

They all shrugged or shook their heads.

Lena tried another line of questioning. "Do y'all have any idea why Jenny wanted to kill Mark?"

The girls were silent, then Brittany finally said, "We've all wanted to at least once."

Lena sat back, crossing her arms. She stared at the boys, guessing why they were being silent. "Okay," she said, and they all started to stand, but she stopped them. "Carson, Cory, Roper-"

"Rory and Cooper," Brad corrected.

"Right," Lena said. "Whatever. You guys stay. The girls can leave." She turned to Brad. "Why don't you get their phone numbers and addresses?"

Brad nodded. He knew she was getting rid of him, but didn't seem to mind.

Lena sat at the table across from the boys, silent until they started to squirm in their chairs.

"Well?" she said.

Carson spoke first. "Yeah, she was doing it."

The other boys nodded.

"All of you slept with her?"

They did not answer.

"Blow jobs? Hand jobs?" Lena asked.

"Sex," Carson clarified.

Lena felt her cheeks flush, but not from embarrassment. "When was this?"

"Mark brought her over to my house one time. We were all partying."

"I thought you said Jenny didn't party."

"No, she didn't," Carson said. "Not usually, but Mark told her to have something to take the edge off." He snorted a laugh. "She did whatever Mark told her to do."

"So," Lena said, trying to get all of this straight, "it was Mark, Jenny, and you three?"

They all nodded.

Carson said, "She got a little drunk and started coming on to us."

Lena pressed her lips together so she would not say anything.

"Mark said she'd do anything we wanted."

One of the boys smiled. "She sure did."

"You all had sex with her?" Lena asked.

Carson shrugged, smirking. "She was pretty drunk."

Lena looked down at the table, trying to compose her-self. "So, she got drunk and you all had sex with her, Mark included?"

"Mark just watched," one of the boys said. "She let us do anything we wanted." His anger sparked like a brush fire. "She was a whore, okay? Why do you even care?"

Lena was startled by the hatred in his voice, as if it was Jenny's fault entirely that they had done this. She asked, "What was your name?"

He looked down, mumbling, "Rory."

"All right, Rory," Lena said. "Did she have sex with any of you on the retreat?"

"Fuck no." Carson crossed his arms angrily. "That was the thing. Why the fuck else would we go on that stupid retreat?"

"You were having sex with her then?" Lena asked.

"No," he said, still angry. "She wouldn't go near us. She was fine at the party. Couldn't get enough of it." He grabbed himself, as if Lena needed the visual aid. "But over Christmas she was tight as a drum. Wouldn't even talk to us." His lip curled. "The bitch."

Lena bit her tongue.

"She was a cock tease," Carson said. "She would've fucked a dog if Mark asked her to, but on the retreat it was like she was better than us."

"What do you think changed this?" Lena asked.

He shrugged. "Who the fuck cares?"

"Did you approach her on the retreat, or did she just ignore you?"

His lip curled. "It was this way, all right? We offered her a little something to help her relax, told her we all wanted to party, and she froze up."

"Exactly," Rory said. "It was like we weren't good enough for her all the sudden."

"Hell, yeah," Carson agreed. "She was pretending like it didn't happen, and I said to her, 'Hey, you know what you did, you whore.'"

"Should've offered her money for it," Rory suggested. "Should've offered
Mark
money for it."

"Right," Lena mumbled, trying to remember the third boy's name. He had been very quiet during all of this, not hostile like the others. "Cooper?" she guessed. He looked up, and she asked, "Did you ever wonder why a thirteen-year-old girl would do something like that in the first place?"

"She liked it," Cooper suggested, shrugging like they all shrugged. "I mean, why else would she do it?" He looked up at his friends and his whole demeanor changed. He was more adamant and just as hateful as his friends when he insisted, "She was a whore and she liked it."

"Yeah," Rory said, his tone filled with spite. "I mean, you could tell she liked it."

Lena suggested, "Even though she was drunk?"

They didn't answer her.

"How could you tell she liked it?"

"Hell, man," Rory said, "who knows? Her face was buried in the couch the whole time."

"Dude," Carson laughed, holding up his hand for a high-five.

Lightning fast, Lena reached out and grabbed his hand. She was holding on to his wrist tight enough to feel the bones, and he grimaced from the pain.

She said, "You think she enjoyed it, huh?"

"Hey," Carson said, looking around the room for help. "Come on, we were just having fun."

"Fun?" Lena asked, jerking his arm like she might rip it out of the socket. "Where I come from, we call that rape, you little shit." She let go of him because there was nothing else she could do short of taking out her gun and pistol-whipping him, which was tempting in light of the smirk that returned to his face when he sat back in his chair.

The bell rang for class changes, and Lena had to force herself not to jump at the loud sound. The boys had a Pavlovian response, gathering their bookbags, not waiting for Lena to release them.

She told them, "Give Officer Stephens your phone numbers and addresses in case we have any questions." She made sure she had their attention. "I'm going to make sure every cop at the station knows your name."

"Yeah," Rory said. "Whatever."

They started to shuffle away, but Carson stayed, asking, "You gonna tell Dr. Clay to search me or what?"

"I'm going to do every possible thing I can to make sure you're in jail before you're old enough to vote."

"Shit," he groaned, shuffling off.

Lena stood, wanting to get away from the table where she had heard their vile talk. She walked over to the computer area and rested her hand on the top of a monitor, feeling a cold sweat break out all over her body. It sickened her to know that boys this young were already learning to think this way about women. Lena could imagine
him
feeling the same way at that age, like girls were expendable. They all liked it. They were all whores.

" Lena?" Brad said, pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked back at the table and saw a couple of older women and one man taking their seats. "Jenny's teachers," Brad told her.

Lena put her hand to her chest, feeling claustrophobic. Brad was standing too close, and the room felt like it was getting smaller. "Why don't you start?" Lena suggested, thinking she needed to get out of here to catch her breath. She walked toward the doors, but he stopped her.

"By myself?" he asked, standing too close to her again.

She could smell his aftershave, and something that smelled like a strong breath mint. She could not lose it here. Lena knew if she got sick in front of Brad she wouldn't be able to go back to work again.

She indicated her cell phone as she took another step back. "I'll call back to the station and check on things there, maybe see if we can find out who owns a black Thunderbird in the area."

"I bet the principal would know," Brad suggested, stepping forward. "They keep logs on that, right? You can't park here unless you've got a parking pass."

"Good thinking," Lena said, taking another step back, aware that if she didn't get her breathing under control she would hyperventilate. "I'll check that out while you interview them. Be sure to ask about what the girls said."

He gave her a funny look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said. Suddenly, the room felt hot and unbearable, and she could feel her shirt starting to cling to her back. "Just get preliminary stuff, an impression of what she was like. I'll be back as soon as I make some calls."

He gave her a quick nod, his jaw tightening. "All right," he said, and she could tell he wanted to ask her again if she was okay.

She walked quickly into the hall, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She was still sweating, and took off her jacket. A kid jogged by. He slowed when he saw Lena 's gun in her shoulder holster.

Lena slipped the jacket back on and leaned her head against the wall. She closed her eyes until the nausea passed. After a few deep breaths she felt better, if not a hundred percent.

Lena flipped open her cell phone to give herself something to do. She dialed the station and talked to Maria about the car, glad that Frank wasn't in. It was still hard for Lena to talk to Frank, and part of her felt that he blamed Lena for what had happened. That same part of her agreed with him. She had been so stupid.

Even though she was standing less than a hundred yards from the front office, Lena called the principal and asked him about the black car. He went through his records while she waited on the phone and gave her the answer she had assumed all along: No one in the school had registered a car fitting that description. Lena thanked the principal, then hung up, thinking it felt good to get some things done instead of just treading water. The more time that passed on this case, the more they seemed to be moving away from solving it. She should talk to Mark again and see what his reaction was to this latest information. Jeffrey probably wouldn't let her near Mark again after what happened last time.

Lena opened the phone again and dialed her voice mail at home. The first message was from the video store in town, telling her that her tapes were late. The second was from Nan Thomas, Sibyl's lover.

"Lena," Nan said, her low voice an irritated grumble. "I've still got this stuff, Sibby's stuff. If you want it, let me know. I don't…" She stopped, then, "It's just…"