The Professor (21 page)

Sunday night

Meg closed the e-mail program with trembling hands. Whatever this guy thought he was doing, it had gone too far.

She rose and roamed her living room. Her apartment had always felt like a refuge, a safe haven. But this pervert threatened that security. Tonight, the furnishings looked tired and worn instead of comfortable. The doors and windows old, rather than charming. She crossed to the alcove seat in the bay window and carefully adjusted the drapes, sealing the small gaps between the panels.

Restless, she paced the floor, stopping to peer at books, inspect the contents of her refrigerator and adjust the volume of her music. She had a lecture to prepare, her own homework projects to complete, but the laptop and its sickening messages repulsed her. Hands curled into fists, she glared at the computer, as if it were the source of her frustration.

Still staring at the machine, she made her decision. No one from the Clinton police department had followed up after she talked to the patrol officer. They might not be concerned, but even if it was a copycat, it was time to talk to someone else. With a glance at her watch, she grabbed her keys and headed for the Chi Zeta house. Lisa would still be awake. She could use her friend’s phone, or just talk it through with her.

“Hi, Donna,” Meg greeted the woman seated behind the front desk.

She climbed the stairs, knocked once on Lisa’s door and turned the knob. To her surprise, the door didn’t open. She knocked again. “Lisa?”

The door across the hall opened and two women, dressed to go out, emerged. “I think Lisa’s at the Pit. We’re headed over there if you want to go.”

Meg hesitated, and then shook her head. “Thanks for asking, but I have to teach in the morning.” She kept her tone light. “I have to stay awake even if y’all don’t.”

The women smiled politely and headed for the stairs, Meg and Lisa most likely forgotten before they reached the first floor.

Meg jotted
Come find me
on Lisa’s whiteboard.

Slowly, she descended the stairs. There wasn’t anyone else in the Chi Zeta house she’d consider confiding in, but she was so angry and frustrated. She could call the finance department head, but not at ten o’clock on a Sunday night.

She couldn’t put it off any longer. The obvious person to tell was Mick.

But telling him made the threat very real and very frightening.

She stiffened her spine.
Suck it up and do it.

“I need to use the phone,” she told Donna when she reached the lobby.

“Sure.” Donna shrugged and returned to her book.

Meg punched in Mick’s number and waited.

“Hello?” He answered before she could change her mind or chicken out.

She tightened her grip on the receiver. “Hi, Mick. It’s Meg.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Donna look up.

“I’m dreaming, right? Meg Connelly called me.” He had the sexiest voice. Warm and intimate, it crept from the phone and curled around her. “I’m definitely coming up in the world.”

Meg felt both the smile and blush on her face and half-turned from the counter. “Don’t get too sure of yourself. We both know how shaky your detective skills are.”

“Just shows what you know. A detective’s best tools are patience and intuition. Obviously, I have tons of both.”

Movement at the other end of the counter distracted her. Donna wasn’t even pretending to read. Meg straightened and dropped the playful tone. “We have to talk,” she said grimly.

Even over the phone, she felt the surprise and hurt at her abrupt statement and cool intonation.

His voice changed too. “I just got in from work.” It was his cop voice, polite and impersonal. “It’s late. Is this something we need to discuss tonight? Or would tomorrow in the office be better?”

Meg’s heart ached with his reaction. “Mick,” she said softly. “I’m sorry to call so late.” She chewed her lip.
Coward
, her internal monitor chided. She dragged the phone to the far end of the counter. Mick was silent, waiting her out. “It’s just… I’m in the lobby at the Chi Zeta house, at the front desk.”

“Oh.”

That syllable said so much.
I understand; you have an audience. I’m relieved; you do want to talk to me. I’m happy; you are interested in me.

“Why are you calling me from there? Is everything okay?”

“I don’t have a phone.” For some reason, the admission embarrassed her.

“We’ll have to do something about that.”

What did that mean?
“I can’t tie up the desk phone, but there’s something I need to tell you—”

A hand reached around her and disconnected the call. “I should’ve known who would have the phone tied up so we couldn’t get through.”

“Hey!” Meg turned around to Didi’s belligerent face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Didi ignored her question and looked at her smirking companion. “If we didn’t have to put up with these charity cases, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Just because I’m not living off my father’s money doesn’t mean I’m a charity case.”

“At least my father supports me, unlike
some
people. You think you’re so wonderful, but I found out all about you this past week.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” she said.

“You’d be surprised what I know. My parents told me about your high school ad
ven
tures. But fill us in. What’s your version? Why
did
your parents throw you out of the house?”

Meg went rigid with anger. Didi had no right to invade her private life. That hurt was too personal to be used for petty insult. “It’s none of your business.”

“You didn’t have any problem standing up and putting your two cents’ worth into my business. And since you’re fucking the detective assigned to my case, I’d say that makes it my business there too.”

“That’s a lie.” Meg’s hand rose instinctively. The instant before it flashed across Didi’s cheek, another emotion froze her.
Hitting?
an incredulous voice asked.
You were thinking about hitting her?

Didi’s eyes narrowed with spite. “Does that detective know about your nasty past? Or is that what he’s interested in? All your experience ought to be good for
something.”

“There was one man. My fiancé.”

“You were engaged?” Lisa’s voice. When had she gotten back?

This wasn’t so hard,
the calm voice in Meg’s head observed.
You’re not like your father. You can control yourself.

“Fiancé,” Didi hooted. “That’s not what I heard.”

“How would you know anything but gossip?” Lisa snapped. “Oh, wait, that would require actually thinking, wouldn’t it? And we all know where you are with that.”

“I heard you were the high school whore,” Didi taunted, ignoring Lisa. “That’s why your parents disowned you. And as far as that detective goes, maybe he can figure out who the father of your baby was. Nobody else could.”

Meg heard the collective gasp from the group gathered behind them. Her hands were shaking with anger. Didi had no right to announce her most vulnerable secret to the world and rip the scabs off unhealed wounds. “You—”

“I think we should call a council meeting.” Didi overrode her. “I don’t think our
advisor
should be someone with such low morals. I bet you even got arrested. Is that how you paid for school? Prostitution?”

“I was wrong about you,” Meg said coldly. “You aren’t just stupid. You’re a vicious, vindictive bitch.”

She turned and pushed her way past the shocked faces of her sorority sisters.
Sisters, what a joke.
They were no more her family than the jerks who’d given birth to her.

“Go on,” Didi called. “No one wants you here anyway.”

Lisa hurried after her. “Meg, wait. Why didn’t you tell me? Fiancé? Baby? What happened?”

“Leave me alone.” Meg hurried down the front steps. She wasn’t about to explain herself or her actions from years ago. At the same time, the irony of again being driven from her home wasn’t lost on her.

She walked into the dark. The parallels to the long-ago day mocked her. The excruciating details remained permanently etched into her memory.

She’d thrown up at school—again—and the gossip mill was working overtime. Steven had vanished from her life once she’d confided in him. To make matters worse, she’d heard he was claiming he intended to wait to have sex until he was married, as preached by their church. That Meg had fooled him and was running around behind his back.

If it had been anyone else, no one would’ve really cared. Teenaged girls having babies, with and without husbands, hardly rated as scandalous. But with her parents— or rather her father, the über-righteous pillar of the church and upholder of all things visibly moral—the gossip was irresistible.

As the day progressed, the rumors grew wilder. By lunch, Meg discovered she was apparently having sex with half the senior class.

She knew she couldn’t put off telling her parents any longer. The only thing worse than confessing would be their hearing about it at church or the country club. Vaguely, she wondered which venue would bother them more.

Hoping for help and understanding, she approached her mother first. Her prayer that for once her parents would be supportive was answered in a dismally familiar
fashion. Her mother did what she always did—deferred to her father. Futilely, Meg wished he’d pay attention to his WWJD tie clasp and actually do what Jesus would do: forgive her.

Instead, he reacted equally characteristically. He pulled out his belt and his makeshift pulpit and beat her with both. “You harlot! You daughter of Gomorrah! You’ve humiliated us. We didn’t raise you to be a whore.”

Not once did he ask about the father of the child.

“You’re an abomination in the eyes of the Lord,” he thundered. “In the early Church, Jezebels were cast out. Stoned. We’re more compassionate. We trust in God’s judgment. But the community will judge us for your sins. It’s our duty to punish you. To restore our family’s honor. To force you to accept responsibility.”

She knew the futility of arguing with him. It only further enraged him. She tried anyway. “I do accept responsibil—”

“Silence!”

The belt slammed across her bruised shoulders. She couldn’t suppress the cry of pain. He hadn’t beaten her like this in years. A muffled sound came from her mother. She snuck a peek at her through eyes that already felt puffy. The woman’s anguished expression confirmed her expectation. Whatever additional punishment her father planned, it was going to be bad.

Part of her wanted to defy him. To stand up and denounce him.

But he was her father.

She forced her head to bow, at least giving the appearance of submission. She heard his heavy breathing while he watched and waited. Finally satisfied by her demeanor, he passed judgment. “We’ll allow you to pack a suitcase. Then you will leave this house. You will not contaminate your family by contacting any of us, especially your sister. You will not tarnish us with the brush of your sins.”

Her head jerked up. She stared at him, stunned. “What?”

“You are no longer our daughter.”

Her parents turned their backs.

“Mother?” Her voice trembled. “It’s your grandchild.”

“That abomination is not my flesh.” The man who used to be her father led the woman away. “You have thirty minutes.”

Hollow-eyed with pain and shock, Meg stumbled to her room. She turned in a circle, absorbing the vestiges of her childhood. Did he really mean it? That she had to leave? That they were rejecting both her and the baby?

She didn’t know where to begin to plan for such an enormous upheaval. What should she take? What would she need besides everything?

Numbly, she placed clothes in a suitcase and books in her backpack. She tucked her teddy bear into the top of the satchel and fought the rising tears.

Her sister, Lauren, slipped into the room. “Where will you go?”

“I’ll figure out something.” She glanced at the door. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for being in here.”

“I don’t care,” Lauren replied with a bravado they both knew was false. Meg had always been the defiant one, the one who took the brunt of their father’s anger. What would happen to Lauren when she wasn’t there to protect her? A tear escaped and she bit back a sob. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Lauren pulled her into a fierce hug. “I’ll find a way to see you.”

Her sister dipped into her pocket. “It’s all I have,” she said apologetically, as she pressed the crumpled bills into Meg’s hand.

“You might need it.”

“You need it more. I love you.”

Meg’s tears fell faster.

Her father’s form filled the door. His wrath reignited in the small room. “I told you to stay away from her.”

He clutched Lauren’s shoulder and jerked her backward. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Scowling, he turned back to Meg. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.” His eyes narrowed. “Get your things and get out.”

“Who is this?” Mick demanded, when someone finally answered the sorority house phone. He could barely hear over the yelling in the background.

“Lisa. I’m Meg’s best friend.” The phone was suddenly partially muffled. “Shut up, you bitch!”

Lisa came back on the line, sounding harrassed. “Is this Mick?”

“What’s going on? Where’s Meg?”

“I don’t know. Didi was being her usual awful self. She said some hateful things and Meg left. She, Meg, that is, was really upset. I tried to stop her, but she blew me off.”

He finished the conversation and took an impatient turn around his living room. Didi must have taken payback for Meg’s comments at the sorority meeting to an ugly low. Concerned, he glanced at his watch. As late as it was, where had Meg gone? To her apartment? Lisa would’ve looked there, first thing, wouldn’t she? Why in the
hell
didn’t Meg have a phone?