she
explains, but she doesn"t see anyone smoking.
And then Coach Crater comes out too. Mr. Wang is kissing her neck,
and Coach is telling her how hot she is and feeling her up, and he says
something about bench pressing.
Finally she remembers why she hates him.
And she remembers that she smelled smoke, but no one is smoking.
Then, in her mind, while the two men kiss and touch her, is Miss Stubin.
Telling her something.
Janie struggles to listen. She remembers liking that old lady for some
reason.
Cigarette
, Miss Stubin says in Janie"s mind.
“I need a cigarette,” Janie whispers.
Use your lighter
, Miss Stubin says.
In your pocket.
“I need a cigarette,” Janie says louder. “Now.”
Coach Crater goes inside and comes back with a joint. “How"s this,
Buffy?”
“Okay.” Janie takes the joint with a shrug and reaches into her pocket.
She didn"t know she had a lighter. Maybe the old maid put it there.
And then the words register, from what Coach Crater just said. Janie.
Does not like.
To be called.
Buffy.
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Janie reels back against the deck"s handrail, stumbling, grabs Coach"s
arm off her breast, wrenches his elbow around so he twirls and faces the
other way, and she kicks him, hard, in the kidneys. “Don"t call me
„Buffy,"” she says mildly. “Ever again.”
His feet splay sideways and he lands with a thud on the wet deck, moaning.
Janie pulls the lighter from her pocket as Mr. Wang stares. She examines
it, puts the joint in her mouth, and pulls back the lid. She tries lighting it.
No fire comes out.
She tries it again.
Mr. Wang is confused, looking at Coach Crater, who is groaning and
barely moving on the deck.
“Get me a fucking lighter that works, or I"ll beat the shit out of you, too,” she says to Mr. Wang, and sinks to the deck, exhausted. When her
hip starts buzzing, she just figures it"s one of those weird things that
have been happening all night.
She looks at Coach Crater. He"s sprawled every which way. His hands
are reaching. Reaching for her leg. She watches them, like it"s not happening to her. She focuses on his fingers, thinking how weird fingers
are. Like little animals, all their own.
He"s wearing a strange, square ring. She wants it, sort of. It looks cool,
like he belongs to something.
Mr. Wang returns with a lighter just as Janie"s hip buzzes again. Maybe
she"ll have to have her whole leg amputated, she thinks sadly. That
would really suck.
She lights the joint and inhales the smoke. Holds it in. Lets it out slowly.
Mr. Wang falls to the deck next to her and starts kissing her cleavage.
She doesn"t like that, she decides. He"s in her way. She"s trying to smoke a joint here.
She makes a peace sign with her fingers, marveling over them. Then,
when Mr. Wang grabs her nipple in his mouth, she stabs him in the
eyeballs.
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She learned that somewhere.
She doesn"t know where.
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Mr. Wang swings his fist wildly, crying out in pain. He catches her on
the jaw, her head flies back and hits the deck"s rail, and she blacks out.
The joint burns down between her fingers.
NOT ALL RIGHT
March 5, 2006, 6:13 a.m.
Janie is dreaming. She"s dreaming Stacey"s dream, over and over again,
and she"s dreaming that she can"t pull out of it. She tries. Hard. But
she"s stuck on the rapist in the backseat.
Over and over again, the dream pauses on the rapist"s hands. And then
she sees it.
She gasps awake and sits up wildly, even though she"s numb.
“Oh god,”
she croaks, her voice gone. She can"t see. But someone is talking,
rubbing her hands, her arms. Soothing her with his voice. She"s breathing hard, in and out, and she cries hot tears, because all she wants
is to open her eyes. But they feel open.
“I need my glasses,” she cries out in a broken voice. “I can"t see.”
“Janie, it"s me, Cabel. I"m right here. I have your glasses, and you"ll be
able to see in a few minutes. You"re safe.” His voice breaks and he
pauses. “You"re safe. Just sit back and rest. Wait for it. You"ll see shadows in a minute, and then everything else will come back, okay?”
Janie slumps back.
She shudders, but she can"t remember why.
She tries to breathe, in and out.
“What time is it?” she whispers.
“Six fifteen.”
She hesitates. “Morning?” she guesses.
“Yes, morning.”
She breathes again. “What day?”
There is a short silence. “It"s Sunday morning, sweetheart. March 5.”
“Is Stacey O"Grady in this room?”
“No, baby. She"s down the hall.”
“Is the door closed?”
“Yes.”
Janie doesn"t understand, but her brain is still fuzzy, like her eyes. And
then slowly, bits of things return.
And she knows there are two very important things she told herself to
remember, even when everything was out of control. She speaks slowly.
“Cabel?”
“Yes?”
“GHB. Mr. Durbin cooked it up himself out of paint stripper and lye.
That"s my guess. I looked it up before. I didn"t see him do it. But he has
the stuff. And, obviously, the ability.”
She breathes, exhausted. “Only twelve hours before it"s out of the body.
Urine tests. Everyone. Every fucking one.”
She doesn"t see him blink.
“Good job,” he murmurs, and he"s on the cell phone. Talking gibberish.
She"s trying hard to focus. There"s something else. What is it?
She can"t
remember.
He stops talking on the phone, and he"s rubbing her arm. And then she remembers. “Meatballs,” she says. “The drug was in the
punch, but I swear to god I didn"t drink the punch. Not that I can remember. I tested it. The tests are in my jeans pocket. Right side.” She
pauses. Sobs a little. “He must have put the GHB in the meatball sauce,
when I was in the bathroom, testing the punch. God, I"m so stupid.”
She drifts off, still blind, and sleeps fitfully for a few hours. 9:01 a.m.
Janie blinks awake. The light above her on the ceiling is blinding.
“Where the hell am I?” she asks.
“Fieldridge General,” Cabe says.
She sits up slowly. Her head aches. She holds her hands to her face.
“What the fuck,” she says.
“Janie, can you see?”
“Of course I can see, you asshole.”
He does a double take, looks at the woman next to him, who chuckles,
and he closes his eyes briefly. “You feel like talking?” he asks carefully.
She blinks a few more times. Sits up. “Where the fuck am I?” she asks
again.
Cabel plants his forehead in his hands. Captain steps to the plate.
“Janie, do you know who I am?”
Janie peers at her. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. And who is this?”
“Cabel Strumheller, sir. You remember him, don"t you?”
Captain buries a grin. “I do, now that you mention it.” She pauses.
“What do you remember?”
Janie closes her eyes. Her head aches. She thinks for a long time.
They wait.
She finally speaks. “I went to the party at Durbin"s house.”
“Yes,” Captain says.
Cabel slips out of his chair and begins to pace the floor.
“I remember setting up the food.” She strains against the fuzziness.
“That"s good, Janie. Take your time. We"ve got all day.”
Janie pauses again. “Oh god,” she says. Her voice shivers and falls.
“It"s okay, Janie. You were drugged.”
A tear slips down Janie"s cheek. “That wasn"t supposed to happen,” she
whispers.
Captain takes her hand. “You did everything right. No worries. Just take
your time.”
Janie sobs quietly for a moment. “Cabe"s gonna be mad,” she whispers
to Captain.
“No, Janie. He"s fine. Right, Cabe?”
Cabel looks at Captain and Janie. His face is ashen. “I"m fine, Janie,” he
manages to croak.
Captain captures Janie"s eyes. “You know this, Hannagan, goddamnit.
Anything that happened as a result of you being drugged against your
will is not your fault. Right? You know your stuff. And you know that.
And whoever did anything to you will go to jail, okay? Not your fault.
Don"t turn soft on me, Janie,” she adds. “You"re a strong woman. The
world needs more like you.”
Janie swallows hard and turns her head away. She wants to bury herself
under the covers and disappear. “Yes, sir.”
“Would it help you remember if I mention some of the names?”
Captain
asks.
“Maybe,” Janie says. “I don"t remember much. Just wisps of things.”
“Okay. Let"s start with Durbin. What happened with him.”
Janie sighs. Then she opens her eyes wide. “GHB,” she says, and sits up.
“GHB.”
Cabel gives Captain a frightened look. “Settle,” she says to him, under
her breath. “She doesn"t remember talking earlier. It"s normal.”
She
turns back to Janie. “What about GHB, Janie?”
Janie thinks. “I tested the first punch,” she says. “I thought for sure
there"d be rooffies in it. But it was clean. Just vodka. That"s what he told
me.”
“Good job. You are a professional.”
“And then people started getting weird. Durbin brought out a new bowl.” The wisps are a little stronger.
Captain sits quietly, letting her think.
“He made all the guys come upstairs from the basement. They were
watching TV. He said they should start eating, because the girls wouldn"t do it.”
Captain scowls, but holds in her disgust.
“And then…” She thinks. “Wang gave me some punch and gave me shit
about being trailer trash. What a fucker,” she says, her eyes stinging. She
cries for a minute, and then pulls it together.
“He was messed up by then,” she continues. “I thought something was
going on. So I took the punch he gave me and tested that—I didn"t drink
any. The paper turned blue, and I flushed it all down the toilet.”
She
closes her eyes again.
“I went downstairs,” she says slowly. “I checked the chemicals on his
lab table, and I didn"t see the ones I was looking for—GBL and NaOH.
Those two chemicals combined make GHB, a drug-facilitated, sexual-assault weapon. I studied about it, like you told me to.”
Captain nods.
“But when I got upstairs, I remembered seeing some bottles on top of his
refrigerator. Paint stripper and lye. The same chemicals that create
GHB.”
“By then I was paranoid and worried. All the soda was in open two-liter
bottles, and I didn"t even want to get a glass of water, because he had
one of those water-filter things on the tap, and I thought he maybe put
the drug in it. So I grabbed a beer—I"m so sorry, Captain—and drank it
sort of fast, but I had food by then too. And a beer, honestly, is not too
much for me. I don"t know what happened,” she says, crying again,
covering her face. “I screwed up, didn"t I?”
Captain closes her eyes. “No, Janie. You did fine. We should have
thought to send you with some individual water bottles or something.”
Cabel stops pacing and rests his forehead against the window. Bounces
it against the glass a few times. Mutters unintelligibly. Captain carefully continues. “You told us a few hours ago, something
about the meatballs. Do you remember that?”
Janie is silent. Confused. “I don"t remember meatballs.”
Captain nods at Cabel. He looks quizzically at her, then he nods. He
dials his phone. Talks to someone. Eventually hangs up.
“GHB, confirmed in the meatballs and in the veggie dip,” he says.
“Jesus Christ.” He takes off his rugby, leaving his T-shirt on. Begins
pacing some more. “I didn"t know you could put it in food.”
“Apparently Durbin wanted to cover his bases,” Captain says quietly,
eyeing Cabel carefully. She turns back to Janie. “Is there anything else
you remember? Don"t worry if you can"t. I expect that"s probably about
it.”
Janie remains quiet for a long time. Finally she says, “This is weird, but
I know Coach Crater raped Stacey. Not this time. Last semester.”
The room rings in silence.
“How do you know, Janie?” Captain asks.
Janie hesitates. “I can"t prove it.”
“That"s okay. Give me your hunch. Remember? We can"t solve crimes
without leads.”
Janie nods. Tells her the car dream Stacy"s had since last fall. And then
tells her about pausing the dream and not being able to see the face. “But
I saw his hand,” she says. “In the dream he"s wearing a square fraternity
ring. I remember seeing the same ring on Crater"s right hand last night.”
Silence.
And more silence. Cabel makes another phone call. Captain ventures another question with an almost-smile on her face. “Do
you remember when you activated the panic button?”
Janie looks at her. Shakes her head no.
“So you don"t remember beating the shit out of Crater and Wang?”
Janie stares. “What?”
Captain smiles. “You were amazing, Janie. I hope someday you remember it. Because you should be very proud of yourself, like I am of
you.”
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Janie closes her eyes.
Finally she says, “Cabe, can you step out for a minute?”
He gives her a fleeting look, then goes.
“Captain,” Janie says, “did anything happen? You know. With me?”
Captain holds her hand. “Nothing below the belt, kiddo. When Baker
and Cobb found you, your sweater was off your shoulder. That"s it. The