Beware That Girl (32 page)

At some point.

I’d been staring at the same open file for what must have been twenty minutes when Ms. Goodlace and her shoes stopped by my desk, I mean Miss Shwepper’s desk. It kind of freaked me out, but then again, everything was freaking me out. Goodlace stood there as if she was taking me in. I sat there taking her in—her and her ever-present two-inch-heeled Stuart Weitzmans—until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ma’am?”

“I won’t ask you how you are, Kate.” It was said gently but also with authority. She couldn’t help it. Her tone came with the position. “I know you’d just lie to me.”

I started to protest, but she laid a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m the head—everybody lies to me.” She was trying not to smile.

And right then she reminded me of somebody, but just as I was closing in on who, it slid away.

“Ironically, being bombarded by lies and liars makes one especially alert to the truth.” She paused. “The truth is, Kate, you’re the most gifted Waverly Scholar we’ve ever had. I’m in awe that you function so beautifully under the singular burden you carry. And that’s only the burden I know about.”

“Ma’am?”

She ignored me. “I also know you won’t confide in me about whatever new burden you’ve taken on over the past few weeks.” Again she stopped me from protesting. “You’ve been let down too many times. But you made it here, Kate O’Brien—all the way to Waverly. And I’m here too. I need you to know that.”

Sister Rose! That was it. Something about her tone, her touch reminded me of Sister Rose.

“My door is always open to you. Whenever you’re ready. Always and for whatever reason. I’m here.”

I finally looked right at her. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She smiled a little but looked sad as she walked away. I felt bad about that. She’d never know how much those few words meant to me.

I
would
figure this out.

—

Olivia shivered through all our classes and laughed too loud at things that weren’t that funny. Anka had been on high hover alert all week, so we couldn’t really speak freely at home. By Wednesday, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to do something.

I went to the market. I phoned ahead and thankfully got Mr. Chen, who always sounded happy to hear from me. I told him I was coming in for a shift after dinner. Of course he didn’t understand a word I said, but I knew he would tell Mrs. Chen that the
gweilo
had called and she could take it from there. I also texted Johnny.

Mrs. Chen was on me like flies on fruit the moment I stepped in. “You sick? You too skinny. Big worry? Johnny no like skinny. You too skinny.”

And this from someone who weighed maybe ninety-five pounds holding a bushel of potatoes.

“No, ma’am. Not sick.”

“Ba!” she harrumphed.

“Little worried, though.”

Mrs. Chen did not harrumph at that. She eyed me silently and then stomped away on her tiny slippered feet.

Okay…

I spent the whole time in the Apothecary section with Mr. Chen. Everyone had ailments on Wednesdays. It was like a thing. Mr. Chen was a calming presence, and I remained almost calm right up until Johnny came for me at nine thirty. As soon as he turned up, I started pulsing like a blender.

“Hey, Michelob, cappuccino time?”

“Isn’t the bakery closed?”

“I know the owner. Come on!” He took my arm and waved to the Chens, who stood together in their matching aprons, looking for all the world like proud parents.

Johnny unlocked the storefront and then busied himself with their monster espresso machine. He’d changed quite a bit since we first met in the autumn. How had I not noticed before? Johnny was bigger, more filled out. It looked good on him. He offered me a perfect cappuccino with a heart design on the foam. “So what is it that you need, Kate?”

“Johnny!” My hand flew to my chest. “I am deeply insulted.”

“Kate, you barely answer my texts all week, and now all of sudden you’re batting your baby blues at me. Are you or are you not about to use me shamelessly?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “I guess I am.”

“I can live with that.” He flipped the chair around and sat facing me with his arms draped around the back. “Exploit away. Sooner or later, you’ll come to realize how irresistible I am.”

Actually, I’d been realizing that for quite some time. To tell the truth, it made me deeply uncomfortable and kind of angry. “Thanks, Johnny. I have no idea where else to turn. I need you to run a couple of names against some dates and school locations. I know your college criminology search engines have got to be better than Google.” Before he could ask, I said, “No, you don’t want to know why, and no, I won’t tell you why.”

He gripped the back of the chair. “Are you in trouble?”

“Not yet.”

“Would you tell me if you were?”

I took a gulp of cappuccino and almost spit it out. I’d forgotten to put sugar in it. “Not necessarily.”

He growled a bit and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it under one condition: a kiss.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“No, it’s not.” He grinned as he crossed his arms. “It happens to be the price of this particular transaction. Well?”

Others had tried, of course—grabbed, groped, slobbered—but I’m stronger than I look and, well,
no one touches me.

But Johnny?

“Fine,” I heard myself say.

“Deal. What do you want?”

I reached into my purse for the lined yellow notepaper and flattened it on the table.

“I have two last names, Sanderson and Ulbrecht, and I have four possible schools, see?” Johnny leaned over. “There’s the Pilot School in San Francisco, 2008 to 2010; the York School in Sydney, 2010 to 2012; St. Mary’s School for Girls in Melbourne, 2012 to 2013; and the American School in Lucerne, 2013 to 2015. I’d like to know if those names come up in any database as missing or something.”

“Kate, what the hell?!”

“I’m a very good liar, Johnny.” I flashed back to Goodlace standing over me. “Exceptional, really. I don’t want to lie to you, but I will. So don’t ask.”

He gripped his coffee cup so hard I thought it would shatter in his hand. But he nodded. “I’ll run them after classes tomorrow.”

“Don’t text or email me. Call, okay?”

“Got it. So stand up, Michelob.” He stood up.

“What, here?”

“Sure, unless you want me to kiss you in front of the Chens.”

I stood up.

I was surprised by a thousand things.

That Johnny smelled like icing sugar and coffee surprised me but shouldn’t have, I guess. It was a good smell. I didn’t know what to expect. I’d never been kissed before, not really. Not since the third grade. No one got through my wall, ever. That I wanted him too surprised me the most. My heart was thudding, my breath was short and my feet were hot. Then he made all that go away when he cupped my face with both of his hands.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s just a kiss.”

Without letting go of me, Johnny leaned down and put his mouth on mine. He kissed me and I kissed him back, and we kept kissing until the world stopped and it was time to go.

He lied. It wasn’t
just
a kiss.

I had no idea that
that
could be like that.

“Okay, then.” He took my hand. “I’d better deliver you back to the Chens.”

I didn’t say anything, couldn’t trust my voice. After he locked up, we walked through the crowds in silence. Except, of course, everyone in Chinatown kept calling out his name and greeting him. I kept my mouth shut. I was too busy sucking back tears. Because not for the first time, but with more fervor than I could ever remember, dear Jesus I wished that I was someone else.

If only, if only…I could be anyone but me.

Olivia and Bruce headed for the park. The days were getting longer. It wasn’t dark, even though it had to be almost seven. Bruce decided there were big dogs deep in the park that he had to get to. He pulled hard, crouched low for better purchase and strained so much against his leash that it looked like he was walking the wrong way into a gale force wind. It amused even the most hard-bitten Upper East Siders.

Olivia, for her part, felt energized, up to the task of reining in her dog. Up for anything. She was alert and totally present. She was even on board for the fear. Maybe it was because it was a shared fear. Maybe it was because underneath the fear was relief. Olivia would never again have to do what she had done.

The plan was good.

It would work.

And after, they would meet her dad in Rio.

And the scars would heal and disappear.

Mostly.

Olivia didn’t feel like fighting Bruce’s suicidal tendencies with the Rottweilers, so they just walked the length of the park on Fifth. Bruce’s disappointment was epic. On their second pass, Olivia noticed a man slow as they neared him. He smiled at her, not the dog. This, of course, was grossly incorrect according to Upper East Side dog-walking etiquette. He didn’t look homeless per se, but his long greasy hair hung about his face like seaweed. She wouldn’t even have noticed him a week ago, but this was the new Olivia, the alert Olivia. She was quite pleased with herself.

“Time to go home, Bruce.”

As soon as they got in, Bruce headed straight for Kate to complain. But Kate was on the phone and did her best to ignore him. Olivia zeroed in on her part of the conversation.

“Thanks again. I mean it.”

“Yeah, no, I mean. It’s cool. That’s perfect. Nothing else.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m positive, Johnny.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Kate eyeballed Olivia and nodded.

“Yeah, I promise. Thanks again, really.”

She fell into the sofa. Olivia went over and put her arm around her.

“We got him,” Kate whispered. “We got him. One of your names…”

“What?” Olivia’s gut seized. But it was exactly what they wanted, what they needed.

We got him.

“The Sanderson girl went to the York School in Sydney when Mark was there.” Kate clutched herself. “She went missing during his second year. She was a senior. Never found. No foul play suspected. The girl was a bit of a wing nut—wild, always in and out of trouble. She was actually suspended at the time. It was assumed that she ran off. But she was never heard from again.”

“Oh, my God.” Olivia gulped. “The other name?”

“Gretta Ulbrecht. She got married real young and is still in Switzerland.”

“Okay, okay, so…” Olivia started and stopped.

“That still makes two! Remember Serena’s cousin said that there was a suicide while Redkin was at her school? I think I assumed that she was South Asian too. Was that girl’s photo in his little collector’s album? That would make two girls gone at his schools
while
he was there.”

“There
was
a pretty South Asian girl,” Olivia said, nodding. “For a second I thought it was Serena, but she’s definitely not there.”

“So we hit a bull’s eye. These are all small private schools, and you said there were a lot of photographs. It’s not a coincidence. It’s him.”

They both sat back. “If only I’d got more names. There were so many pretty girls. What an idiot!” Bruce jumped up on them, half on her lap, half on Kate’s. Bruce’s idea of dog heaven.

“Leave it alone, you did great.” Kate sat forward again. “Holy crap, it just hit me. All of them, of us—let alone the teachers, staff, etc.—but the girls, we’re all seniors.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Eighteen and over, Olivia! He can be accused of stuff
if
you catch him, maybe. But no matter where he goes, it’s not going to be statutory rape. We’re
all
seniors. It’s genius.”

For some reason that Olivia couldn’t identify, this did not overwhelm her. It scared her, sure, but that was only sensible and sane. This was
it.
They had plenty. It was enough to blackmail him with. To get him out of the school and out of their lives. And they’d do it together.

Kate turned to her. “Okay, this is the time for me to suggest calling your dad and laying it all out. Put the whole mess in his hands. He’s connected. Hell, he’s an adult.”

Olivia stiffened. “No.” She shook her head. “My father is an officer of the court, and the law would have to get involved. Which means my stuff, Houston, your secrets would all come out.
You’d
kiss Yale good-bye for sure—too tawdry, too
New York Post
for an Ivy. And my…with Mark. I couldn’t ever let my dad know about that.” She shook her head again. “So, no. We stick to the plan.”

“Sure?”

“Positive.”

“All right, then.” Kate exhaled. “It’s just us. We do it ourselves. We
will
do it. Tell him to come over on Saturday night. He’s got to have that open, since everybody’s taking off for spring break tomorrow. Remember to say that you won’t be here, that he and I will be alone.”

“But I’ll be in the kitchen. And we’ll record everything.” Olivia said this more to herself than to Kate. “Let’s do this!”

Bruce licked both of them in an enthusiastic show of approval.

Olivia headed for the wine fridge after handing Kate a beer.

“A couple of girls are going to bring that monster down,” Kate called after her.