“What did it say?” Piper asked.
“I’ll show you.” Jess slowly rose from the couch, and Sonya noticed how the gauze was wrapped around her head to keep the bandages in place over the stitches. Sonya recognized the slur in her speech; Carolyn sounded the same way when she was taking pain killers.
Sonya and Piper followed Jess to the kitchen, where a lap-top rested on the counter near the stove. Jess opened the computer and accessed her e-mail.
“The detective had me forward him a copy,” she said. “But he didn’t want me to delete the original yet.”
“What was the detective’s name?” Sonya asked.
“Um...Garcia. Some old guy.”
Sonya remembered Detective Ben Garcia, but she stayed silent as she started to read the e-mail:
“Jessica–
I got so hot while cutting into your face; the soft, sweet skin yielding to my cold, hard blade. I had to keep my self-control for the sake of my quest, although I could have licked every drop of blood from your face.
I put your ring in my mouth when I touch myself.
Your Ravisher.”
“Oh, Jess. This is sick,” Piper said.
“I know it’s him. Who else would know about my ring?” Jess asked.
“Can’t the police trace the e-mail?” Piper asked.
“Only from the address,” Sonya said. “But if he’s using someone else’s, he could be hard to find that way.”
“He could be miles away,” Jess said.
Sonya shook her head. “I don’t think so. He planned this; he knew what time you left your house for the bus stop, and that you would be alone. I’m not sure why he chose you, but he could just be getting started.”
“Don’t say that,” Piper said.
“I’m sorry, but why plan unless he doesn’t want to get good at it? Why would he want to get caught after attacking only one girl?”
“Judging by the e-mail, he seemed to enjoy it.”
“Right. And he’ll want another chance.”
Piper turned to Jess. “When do you plan to go back to school?”
“Tomorrow. I already have work to make up.”
“My mom can give you a ride.”
“My gramma’s going to take me for awhile.” Jess shut the computer. “I have to look like this at school...”
“Don’t worry,” Piper said. “No one is going to bother you.”
“I don’t want them feeling sorry for me.”
“We only want you to be all right and for the police to catch this guy,” Piper said.
“I’m sure they’re doing everything they can,” Sonya said.
“You seem tired, Jess,” Piper said. “If you want to rest, we can go.”
Jess agreed and Piper called her mom. Jess was dozing off on the couch when Robin Jones arrived.
“Nice meeting you, Jess,” Sonya said.
She yawned. “Thanks. I really hope another girl isn’t attacked.”
“Me, too. I have a feeling a lot of girls won’t be waiting for the bus alone.”
****
“Has Jess seen the Blue and White today?” Bobby asked.
“She didn’t mention it,” Piper said.
Piper and Sonya were in the back seat of the SUV while Robin drove Sonya back to her house.
Piper still had her backpack from school and pulled out the MacBook with one hand while holding on to her cell phone. Sonya helped her, placing the computer in her lap.
“Go on the Blue and White,” Piper said.
Sonya went to the site and Piper sat closer. “What damage is SkolClik doing today?”
“Jess doesn’t need to see this,” Bobby said.
Piper and Sonya took one look at the entry, and their eyes widened. The heading read:
“Slasher Victim-Coming To A Theatre Near You.”
Below, a photo from a black and white horror movie featuring the Mummy, its head wrapped in bandages.
“That’s cruel,” Piper said.
“Are you seeing it?” Bobby asked.
“Somebody needs to kick SkolClik’s ass,” Sonya said.
The entry read:
“Freshman and slasher victim Jessica Holden has been seeing visitors, and the damage could be permanent. I know exactly what the other cheerleading camp girls are thinking(one of their names rhymes with Wiper Bones): “Better her than me. I don’t want to go to school with my face looking like a pound of raw hamburger, try-outs are coming up...”
Sonya looked up to see Piper’s face, blue eyes cold with rage. “I’d never think that. I’m not mean—”
“I know that, Princess,” Bobby said. “You went to see her because you care. SkolClik doesn’t know you at all.”
“He knows my name, and he’s dragging me into his nasty blog.”
“How would SkolClik know we were at Jess’s house?” Sonya asked. She shut the computer, not bothering to read the comments left by other readers. “Is someone watching?”
“That’s creepy,” Piper said.
“What’s creepy?” Bobby asked.
“I thought you had to go to the dentist.”
“Just a cleaning. I was back in an hour.”
“Sonya thinks we were being watched.”
“That is creepy.”
“I wonder who else looks at this blog,” Sonya said. “Besides the students at Marine.”
“Anyone can,” Piper said. “You don’t need a password to read the entries. What are you thinking, Sonya?”
She shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. I’m just wondering how Jess’s attacker could get her e-mail address.”
“Maybe she posted it somewhere else, another site.”
“Like what?” Sonya asked.
“She has a FriendsRing page. So do I.”
“What are you telling her about FriendsRing?” Bobby asked.
Piper ignored him, pulling the phone away from her ear. “It’s like Facebook. And all of us are on Twitter.”
Sonya had never put up a Facebook page and did not even have a Twitter account.
“Let me show you my FriendsRing page,” Piper said.
She held the phone between her ear and shoulder while accessing the FriendsRing site, the MacBook switched to her lap. “Bobby, go on FriendsRing.”
“Okay, hang on. What are you showing her?”
“Sonya thinks the slasher may have been cyberstalking Jess. He sent her a disgusting e-mail.”
“I’ve never put my e-mail addresses on my page.”
“Neither have I, but maybe Jess did.”
Sonya looked over Piper’s FriendsRing page, a pink background and floral border announcing her age(15), astrological sign(Leo), her favorite movies(Enchanted), books(the Twilight saga), food(Italian), and music(Lady Gaga). She could play piano and included a photo of herself with Jo-Jo. She had made over two hundred friends since her page went up four months ago.
“You always get some perverts,” she said. “But if you ignore them, they go away. I’m careful who I contact.”
“Did Jess meet someone who could have contacted her? Some guy?” Sonya asked.
“I’m sure the police would have asked her that.”
“Probably, but how many people get on these pages everyday? How can it be narrowed down?”
“You don’t always have to use the same photo or screen name, either.”
“People can hide.”
“Are you hearing this, Bobby?” Piper asked.
“I even get pervs on my page,” he said. “Dirty old men.”
Robin, an older, plumper version of Piper, called to the back seat. “Are you getting a ride to school, Sonya?”
“My dad is taking me, or he’ll go with me to the bus stop.”
“I’m taking Piper every morning until this guy is found. He’s going to face at least five years for aggravated assault.”
Aron had wondered what Piper’s parents did for a living, and Sonya found out that they were
both lawyers. Robin had her own practice in Marine. Piper’s father was now a partner at a large firm in Falls River, where he lived with his new wife, Piper’s parents divorced long ago.
Sonya’s initial impression of Robin Jones was as a hard-working woman who gave Piper everything from expensive clothes to piano lessons. Sonya felt a twinge of jealousy until she realized that Piper was usually alone in her big house unless she was at school or out with her friends. Also, Piper did not seem to have much to say to her mother except for polite exchanges.
“Can you take me to Jess’s page?” Sonya asked.
Jess used yellow shading and a blue floral border to contain all of her interests and new friends with a photo of herself taken at cheerleading camp, holding her pompoms in front of her, ponytail swinging. This girl was nothing like the Jess they left on the couch, drugged and depressed.
“She doesn’t give out any addresses on here,” Piper said. “Not even her Twitter account.”
“She has over six hundred friends,” Sonya said.
“Her page has been up for the past year.”
“This is the wrong place to look, it’s like a masqued ball.”
“No one is what they seem,” Piper said. “But anyone on FriendsRing can print up a list of their friends. I can, Bobby could, even Jess.”
“I wonder if the police have a list of Jess’s friends.”
“Bobby, print a list of your friends.”
“Why?”
“Sonya wants to study it.”
“I do?” Sonya asked.
“Why would the police want a copy of Jess’s friends if they won’t be able to track down most of them?” Piper asked.
“To see who was posting the most,” Bobby said.
“What else?”
Sonya smiled as the realization dawned on her. “To compare it to someone else’s list. A suspect they might find...”
Piper nodded. “I can print my list and send it to your e-mail. Bobby and Jess can do the same thing.”
“Good idea. I’ve got homework, but I can look over the lists later.”
*****
Sonya noticed a familiar vehicle, a old VW Bug, pass Robin’s SUV, the driver a small older woman with dark hair.
Aunt Sue? Sonya thought. I haven’t seen her since Mom’s funeral.
When Sonya entered the house, she found Aron sitting at the table, reading the Marine Press want ads.
“I saw Aunt Sue in her car,” she said.
Aron nodded. “She was here. Bad news.”
“What?”
“Her cancer has come back. In the other breast now.”
Sonya’s lip curled into a sneer. “I hate cancer.”
“She might be all right. More surgery, but the doctor found it early.”
Bill was sitting in the living room with Helga, watching the news.
”When was the last time I spoke to her?” he asked.
“At Carolyn’s funeral,” Aron said.
“Before then.”
“Not in years.”
“Nine, I think. Didn’t have much to say to each other...”
“Divorce is like that.” Aron pushed the newspaper away. “I’ll start dinner.”
Sonya watched him go to the refrigerator, pulling out a package of chicken.
“She just came here to tell you about her cancer?” Sonya asked.
“She mentioned Tara, and how much they miss you and Carolyn. Your mother used to take Sue to her cancer treatments. Ironic, huh?”
“What’s Tara doing?”
“Nothing, like usual. Sue has helped raise Kaitlyn, but Tara still goes out to the bars. Sue thinks she might be pregnant again.“ Aron opened the cupboard above the stove, taking out a bottle of cooking oil. “If Sue gets too sick, Tara will have to take the responsibility.”
“I can’t believe she’s having another baby,“ Sonya said. “She’s thirty now, right?”
“Thirty-three. Kaitlyn’s almost seventeen.”
“I haven’t seen Kaitlyn at school.”
“She would be a senior now.” Aron set the frying pan on the stove. “Sue would like you to visit sometime.”
“Are Tara and Kaitlyn still living with her?”
“And Tara’s boyfriend. He’s a Blue Diamond named Axel. Charming.” He started to unwrap the chicken. “Bill! Didn’t Sue say she wanted to sell her house?”
“Tara and her biker want Sue to sell so they can move into a bigger one,” Bill replied. “But I know that woman, she won’t let Tara fill her head full of crap.”
“That’s for sure,” Aron said. “It’s Sue’s way or the highway.”
Sonya was no stranger to Aron and Bill’s remarks about how jealous and controlling Sue could be during her marriage to Bill, including trying to keep him from writing or sending money to his son John, after his first wife Elke returned with John to her native Sweden.
Bill sighed. “I worked on that house all summer. Remember, Aron?”
“I remember tearing up that old floor. Helping you put on a new roof.”
“The work never ended. Took a year to remodel that place.”
Sonya took her backpack and entered the hallway that led to her attic room. She had spent the summer trying to make the small space more comfortable, finding matching lacy curtains and a coverlet for her futon. A small dresser was shoved in one corner, a fuzzy pink rug covered the floor.
She sat at the futon, thinking about how she went for years never feeling like the adults around her were treating her like a fool.
Dad could stand there and criticize Aunt Sue and Tara, she thought, but at least they don’t lie to their children. Kaitlyn knows what kind of person her mother is, Tara doesn’t try to hide it.
Sonya could have kept her suspicions buried, but all of that changed when she happened to overhear something her mother said to Sue over the phone two years ago:
“If it gets any worse, I’m going to hit Bill up for another loan. I mean, I never demanded child support from him…”
Carolyn and Cal had been married for years and Aron was paying support. However, money was always tight, and Carolyn had wanted to quit teaching for years. She was starting to feel ill with the early symptoms of her cancer, and one of her students had threatened her, trying to run her off the road while she and Sonya were returning home from a movie one night.
Sonya later realized that she never asked because she did not want to know the answer.
Does it even matter now? she thought. Uncle Bill might not care, maybe he never did. I’m lucky Dad wants me around, especially in this house.
Sonya pulled her algebra book out of her backpack. She had a full page of linear problems to solve, as well as reading a chapter in her history book about Alexander the Great.
She finished the algebra before Aron called her down for dinner.
She sat at the small table with Aron and Bill, Helga close by, patiently waiting for a bit of chicken. Her big brown eyes moved to Bill, then his plate, as he took each bite.
Sonya took the bowl of mashed potatoes from Aron, spooning a small pile on to her plate, then passing the bowl to Bill. She took some green beans and bread. Aron poured her a glass of milk.
Bill tossed a piece of meat at Helga, who gobbled it, her jowls barely moving. “Good chicken, Aron.”
“Thanks.”
Sonya gazed at her father and uncle while she ate, trying to catch some expression, but she only saw two men who were brothers long before they became husbands or fathers, and Sonya could not help but feel like an intruder, even if she deserved to know the truth.
Chapter Five
Bobby did as Piper asked, and printed a copy of his FriendsRing friends list. He was sure to shove the copy in his backpack the night before.
He dressed that morning in a blue argyle sweater over a white shirt along with a black bowtie. His was hair was still damp, parted to one side, bangs drying on his forehead. When he entered the ki
tchen of the two-bedroom apartment he shared with his mother Delia, he found Rick laying on the couch, the TV on mute. Rick’s eyes were glued to the Today show.
“Rick?”
He did not move.
Bobby sighed. “Mom wants you to go to the store. We need milk and Tide.”
Rick turned his head, eyes bloodshot. “With what?”
“You got your unemployment yesterday.”
Bobby, out of habit, took a step back as soon as Rick started to stir from the couch. Rick and Bobby both had the same blond father, but Rick had inherited Delia’s olive skin, brown eyes, and thick black hair. Rick would have been handsome if the drugs and depression were not dragging him down, along with his two hundred-plus pound weight.
He reached for his gray sweat pants and pulled out his wallet. He extracted a twenty dollar bill, throwing it to the other end of the old coffee table. “You go...”
Bobby gripped his cell phone, making sure it was close when he felt an argument with Rick coming. Threatening to call 9-1-1 was sometimes the only way to get him to back off. “Mom paid for your medication, you owe her seventy bucks.”
“I’ll give it to her, okay? Go to school, you little bitch.”
Rick resumed his position on the couch. Bobby picked up his backpack and walked out of the apartment.
*****
Bobby lived at Lakeshore Apartments, in one of several units. He walked to the front of the main building to his bus stop.
Bobby caught the bus with two other high schoolers, a year older than him. Both boys were silent when he approached. Bobby was used to silent scorn, the name calling(fag! twink!)only coming when he got on the bus. Last year, the bus driver, Mrs. Young, called Delia and asked her if Bobby had another way to school. When Delia said no, Mrs. Young explained that she could not control the other kids on the bus when Bobby was a passenger.
Delia replied,”That is your problem.”
Bobby did not pay attention to the police cruiser as he was checking his messages. Piper had called him, but he could wait. The other two boys stared as the black and white cruiser, bearing ‘Marine County Police Department’ on each side, came to a stop.
The boys said nothing as a female officer emerged from the car in uniform, silver hair cut short. She was tall and heavy, showing the boys her cheerful smile behind the pale blue gaze. “Good morning.”
The boys nodded a nervous hello.
“Hi, Aunt Sharon,” Bobby said.
Sharon was married to Delia’s Uncle Tommy, and had been a police officer for almost thirty years.
She approached Bobby, who was not embarrassed to speak to his aunt around kids his age, as if he would ever bargain for their approval. “What’s up?”