Echo Bridge (10 page)

“Ugh,” groaned Lexi.

“I like the way you think, kid,” said Hugh.

The dot on the map stopped moving. We all stared in horror as Molly and Hugh leaned into each other over the emergency brake, and heavy breathing and the soft, moist sounds of lips meeting came over the speakers.

“What are we doing?” whispered Farah, as one of Hugh’s meaty paws dropped from Molly’s shoulder to her breast. She flinched and murmured a little, but they kept at it.

Mr. Grieves opened a drawer under his worktable and pulled out a disposable cell phone. “I’m going downstairs. This is messed up.”

“Wait,” I said. “What if we get the cops there and it’s not what we think?”

“How can it not be what we think?” Grieves stood up and gestured angrily at the screen. “Every second we sit here, that girl’s in more danger.
If
what you said about this guy is true.”

“It’s true,” Lexi said. “But Courtney might be right. He does prefer his girls a little wasted.”

I turned to Grieves and put a hand on his arm. He twitched just a little and gave me a strange look, and it occurred to me that he was not a person used to being touched. “Can we text her? And make it look like it’s from another number?”

He gave me the eye, but he sat back down at the worktable. “What are the numbers, and what do you want to say? Something that will stop this, I assume.”

I had Molly’s number on the cast contact list that Mr. Gillison had handed out at the first rehearsal for
The Crucible
.

“Can you get into her phone and access her contacts?” I asked him. “The text should come from her sister, Elaine.”

“This is taking too long,” Grieves muttered, but a moment later he grunted, “Got it. What do you want the text to say?”

“Get inside now or I’m sending Dad out,” I said.

“What if Elaine’s not home? Or their dad’s not?” asked Lexi.

I shrugged. It wasn’t just a stab in the dark; it was a stumble in a pitch-black cellar.

“Who picks up a text when they’re fooling around, anyway?” barked Grieves, but he pressed a button, and we heard Molly’s phone beep over his speakers.

“Shoot,” she said, and pulled away from Hugh. I had never been so glad to see two people come up for air in my life. And I had seen plenty of sloppy make outs at Melissa’s parties. She opened her little clutch for her phone.

“I’ll be damned,” Grieves said.

“It’s my sister,” Molly told Hugh. “Crap, I’ve got to go.”

“Really?” Hugh pleaded. He brushed her hair behind her ear. It was a strangely familiar gesture; I could almost feel the sensation of his fingers.

“Um, unless you want to meet my dad. Right now. In his pajamas.” Molly put a hand to her face like she could just die at the prospect.

“I’d rather see you in your pajamas,” Hugh nuzzled her, and she giggled.

“This is sickening,” said Lexi.

Hugh locked his arms around Molly, but she wasn’t trying very hard to get out of them. “Hugh, I have to go.”

“I’ll only let you go if you promise you’re coming to Revelry with me.”

“Excuse me?” giggled Molly. “You haven’t even asked.”

“I don’t need to,” Hugh said. “I know you’ll say yes.”

“God.” Lexi closed her eyes. “’No’ really doesn’t exist in his universe, does it?”

“Well, I guess,” said Molly. She thought she was being coy. “I mean, if I don’t get a better offer.”

“What?” Hugh laughed and pretended to be offended as she got out of the car. We watched him stare through the passenger window, probably at Molly as she made her way up the walk to the Winslow’s front door. Then he started the car, and his music pounded over Grieves’ speakers once again.

I breathed out and felt all the tension go out of my shoulders, the way I did when the curtain dropped after the bows at the end of a show. “He’ll do it at the Revelry after-party.”

“You’re sure she’s safe tonight?” asked Mr. Grieves.

“What’s the deal with Elaine Winslow?” asked Lexi. “Molly said her sister didn’t want her dating Hugh?”

“That’s all I know,” I shrugged. Elaine hadn’t come out and said it when she’d spoken to me, but it definitely seemed possible that Hugh had done something to her, too.

“All right,” Grieves leaned forward and hit a couple of keys, and the map of Belknap disappeared. “So what do you want off this guy’s phone? Texts?”

“And emails and voicemails,” Farah leaned forward. “We want everything. Will you show me how you get in without the service provider picking up the breach?”

While they conferred, Lexi and I stood by the window and stared out at the glowing skyline. “I’m sorry I got so aggro about Molly,” she said softly. “But it’s just like…you, me, Farah, maybe Elaine—how many girls do you think he’s done this to? How many more will he go after before he graduates?”

“I get it,” I said. “I try not to think about it. Some days that’s the only way I can get through the school door, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. That’s why we need to get him kicked out.”

“How do we do that?” I asked. “I mean, if Farnsworth is willing to ignore a rape accusation for the hockey team’s record, what could Hugh possibly do that Farnsworth couldn’t brush under the rug?”

“Something public.” Lexi fiddled with the end of her braid, brushing it against her lips. “Something with lots of witnesses.”

“Thistleton Hall?” I suggested, thinking of the Panopticon. “A slanderous website?”

“You guys, come over here,” said Farah. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s from his notepad app,” added Grieves.

It was a list of dates, in reverse chronological order. Near the top of the screen, I saw “9/23/13.”

“This is the date of Melissa’s party,” I said. “The night he…” I swallowed my words.

“That’s mine.” Lexi pointed to 9/4/13. “Do you think this is, like, a record?”

“It has to be,” I said. “It can’t be a coincidence that both dates are here.”

“What do you mean, both dates?” Grieves asked.

I felt the blood rush to my face, and Lexi cleared her throat. Grieves looked back and forth between us. “Holy shit. Both of you?”

“We’re here,” Lexi said meaningfully, gesturing at Grieves’s humming computers and the guy himself. “You must have known we had a good reason.”

“Sure, but—” He looked at both of us again and interrupted himself. “All right. I’m waiving my fee on this job, and I’ll have my guys throw in a little bonus work. Delete his homework off his computer and flag his license plate so he won’t be able to drive two feet without getting pulled over for unpaid parking tickets, that kind of thing.”

“Thanks, Grieves,” said Farah. “But we need to do more.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Revelry,” Lexi said. “Getting drunk at the dance. If everyone knows, then Farnsworth will have to make an example of him.”

“I hate to break it to you,” I said. “But Hugh already drinks at dances. He’s always got a pint of Jack Daniels in his jacket. He knows exactly how drunk he can get and still hide it.”

“Then we’ll spike his whiskey,” said Lexi, with her naughty smile. “Isn’t that sort of fitting? Roofie-ing a rapist?”

“You are insane,” said Mr. Grieves.

“I don’t know,” said Farah. “Where would we get roofies? And wouldn’t that just make him pass out?”

“I don’t know,” mused Lexi. “Maybe I could crush an ecstasy tablet? Or doesn’t acid come in liquid form? I’ll figure it out. The point is, if he’s wasted, he’ll end up with Farnsworth calling his parents, or maybe even the hospital. He won’t be at the after-party with Molly. And with most of the junior and senior classes at the dance, Farnsworth will have no choice but to follow the school rules to the letter. He’ll have to expel Hugh.”

“How would we do it?” I asked. I wasn’t convinced we could drug Hugh, but Lexi seemed so determined, I didn’t want to let her down. “Where would we even get ecstasy or acid?”

Lexi put one hand on her hip and drummed her fingers against it. “Hmm. Marian’s only good for weed and Adderall. Benji gets mushrooms sometimes. And there’s a sophomore named Finn who sells Oxy. But none of that is ideal.”

“Is this really the way you want to go?” asked Mr. Grieves. “I know he’s done awful things and deserves whatever might happen to him. But drugging a guy…” Mr. Grieves shook his head. “Do you want to be the kind of person who does that?”

He didn’t mean it as an accusation, but of course it felt like one. I saw Farah staring down at her lap, her cheeks burning. Lexi dropped her braid and looked at me, a harsh expression on her face. Was I the kind of person who could roofie someone else, take away his grasp on reality and his ability to control himself, if only for a few hours, for a decent cause?

I thought of Hugh in the bathroom, the can of soda hitting my foot. His finger at the neckline of my shirt. My hipbones bruising against the edge of the sink.

“Listen, Grieves, or whatever the hell your real name is. I am that kind of person,” Lexi said evenly. “The kind of person who will punish people who hurt her, who hurt her friends. Maybe Hugh made me that way when he raped me. Or maybe I was that kind of person before. But I am, and I will, and if you don’t want to be involved, that’s fine. But it’s not going to stop me.”

We all stared at her. I felt a strange flash of fear mixed with admiration. Mr. Grieves opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I’m not going to stop you. But if you’re going to do it, we might be able to find something legal that will suit your purpose. You’d be surprised what you can learn from researching chemical vendors.”

When we left Mr. Grieves’ place, Lexi dropped Farah off at home and then swung me by Echo Bridge. Ted had called, slurry and sweet after his father had let him have some of the good Scotch, and begged me to meet him, even though he was too drunk to pick me up in the car. Echo Bridge was a short walk from Ted’s house, but it was a much farther from mine, and I only agreed to meet him after he promised to take the shortcut across the public golf course and walk me home. Cutting across the course saved fifteen minutes, but it was pitch dark at night.

“I’ve always thought Echo Bridge was creepy,” Lexi said in the car. “Even before Hugh.”

“Really?” I asked. “I always liked it. I remember the first time my dad took me there, and we stood underneath and yelled our names and counted how many echoes we could hear. I always won. I think the record was something like fourteen. That’s kind of amazing, that a stone arch made for another purpose entirely can bounce your voice back fourteen times.”

“Well, yes, the ancient Romans were great architects, there’s no arguing with that. But do you know the story of the nymph Echo?” asked Lexi. I was beginning to suspect that her grandfather had read Greek mythology to her as a child before bedtime. I wondered if she ever heard of the Brothers Grimm.

“She was a great talker,” I said. “And she’d distract the queen of the gods while Zeus was chasing after other nymphs, so the queen cursed her so she could only repeat the voices of others. Then she fell in love with Narcissus.”

“Right. And he’s a vain bastard who thinks he’s too good for her,” Lexi went on. “So in some of the myths, Echo pines away until the only thing left is her voice. But in other stories, Echo swears off men forever, and then Pan falls in love with her.”

“Isn’t Pan the same as Hermes?” I asked. “Or Dionysus?”

“My grandfather would fall over dead if you ever said that to him. No, they were different. Some myths have Hermes as Pan’s father, but according to others, Pan is much older. He shows up in the beliefs of many different cultures around the world. He’s a satyr and kind of a badass but also kind of a lech, and he’s always trying to get various nymphs in bed. When Echo rejects him, he inspires a herd of shepherds to rip her to shreds—that’s where the word ‘panic’ comes from—and the only thing left is her voice, still cursed to repeat the living.” Lexi flicked a cigarette out the window.

“That is pretty grim,” I admitted. I wondered if this was what I’d think of every time I heard an echo now, as Lexi obviously did.

“Yeah. But nobody gets off lightly in ancient Greece. Nemesis always balances the scales. She makes Narcissus fall in love with his own reflection, and he kills himself when he realizes he can’t screw himself.”

“I don’t remember that part,” I said.

“I’m paraphrasing.”

“So was Nemesis a goddess or what?”

“She’s the personification of retribution and, like, karmic balance. She’s my favorite. Orpheus wrote a pretty great hymn for her: ‘To every mortal is thy influence known, and men beneath thy righteous bondage groan; for every thought within the mind concealed is to thy sight perspicuously revealed.’”

Lexi left me on the far side of the bridge from where Ted and I parked during school, in Aqueduct Park. It was easier to get down to the bridge at night through the park, though still creepy: the moon was nearly full, and the jungle gym cast strange, sharp shadows on the sand while the swings waved eerily in a slight breeze. Lexi’s story was, appropriately, echoing in my mind, and I couldn’t help but imagine a herd of evil Pan-goats with glowing eyes appearing over a small rise of land in the park. I would never admit it, but I’d been a little afraid of the dark since I was small. My mind couldn’t help but scroll through all the possible things that might be waiting to jump out and grab me: men with knives, ghosts in white dresses with holes for eyes, Hugh Marsden. I dug my hands into my pockets and hurried down to the bridge. The Big Dipper spread across the sky between the skeletal fingers of the bare trees rising up on both banks. I could see a figure with its back to me, leaning against the railing and looking down to the water. I hoped it was Ted, and of course it was. Belknap was generally free of murderous drifters and vengeful ghosts. Though it was not entirely free of rapists.

“Hey, babe.” Ted held out his arms, wrapping me in a hug as I stepped into them. “Have fun tonight?”

Ted seemed to have assumed I’d been with some of the usual girls, Melissa and Hilary or Selena, Marian, and Lindsay. I didn’t correct him, and I hoped he wouldn’t ask directly or bring it up in front of them.

“Sure,” I said. “What about you? Big dinner with Tom and Dad, huh?”