Dark and Deadly

“I did.”

“List?” Torie roused enough to speak. “What list?”

Tibbet stepped into the breach, saving him from having to look even worse in Torie’s estimation.

“I figured that being a lawyer type, Paul here would have kept a list of everyone he knew who was at that party where your incident occurred.”

“Incident.” Her laugh was more of a harsh bark, and it held nothing of mirth. “It sounds so tame.”

“It wasn’t, I know,” Tibbet said in answer. “It was terrifying, and you felt shame and guilt. You were afraid everyone would judge you if they knew.”

Torie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was saying exactly what she felt. Exactly what she feared. “H-h-how did you know?”

“Because when something like this happens, it is how you feel. And you keep feeling that way until you decide not to, until you decide to put the shame and blame and judgment where it belongs.”

“W-where?”

“On the person who was cowardly, nasty, and sick enough to drug a woman, scare her to death, and probably rape her.”

“Oh-h-h,” Torie managed to say before the tears burst from her. His matter of fact recital of it, his complete acceptance, exploded the lock behind which she’d kept her feelings about the attack.

Paul was at her side in an instant, kneeling on the floor, supporting her as she sobbed out all the anger and fear. Both men waited patiently as she released the pent-up pain. Paul offered water and tissues, all while continuing to rub her back or hold her hand.

Finally, she began to master the flood, and choke back the tears. “I-I-I’m sorr-r-ry,” she said, her breath still catching.

“Take your time,” Tibbet said quietly. “You need to get it out. Lance the wound so it can heal once and for all.”

She couldn’t answer that, but felt the rightness of it. Wiping her wet cheeks, she nodded. It was long past time she stopped hiding in her fear. Hadn’t she already decided that this morning? Hadn’t she already decided it was time to stop waiting around for life to come to her?

It was time to blaze a new path without looking over her shoulder in fear, or worrying about who would judge her if they knew.

She already knew who the “judgers” would be. She worked for them. Those who accepted her already knew. And they still accepted her.

Torie managed a watery smile, directed it to Paul, and thought about Pam. They knew. They had known from the beginning. They had never judged.

What she had mistaken for judgment on Paul’s part, and for betrayal, had been something else. She shied away from naming it. She had enough to deal with. But it hadn’t been disgust, or dislike. Of that, she was now sure.

“If you think you’re able, Ms. Hagen, I’d like to go over Paul’s list, see if you remember any of the men he’s named, if any of them have contacted you over the years, or if any of them ever bothered you on campus.”

Torie nodded. She pulled several more tissues, worked to regain her composure. This was important. It might save Paul’s life, and that was important.

He was important.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’ll do it together.”

He’d said that before. He’d said that a long time ago, too, as he’d sneaked her out of the fraternity house shaking and afraid. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll get you home,” he’d said. “We’ll do it together.”

A sense of peace came over her, a rightness about the time and place of letting this go. Sitting up in the chair, she took several sips of water to clear her throat.

“Let me see the list,” she croaked.

Paul rose and went to his desk. Unlocking a drawer, he came back with three copies of the list. His was handwritten, and notes were penned in the margins in several different colors, as if he’d written the notes at disparate times.

The copy he handed to her and to Tibbet was clean, typewritten, and new. “I cleaned it up a bit, took out the people I knew weren’t there, or who had been away. I took Todd off the list,” he added, for her benefit.

“Thanks,” she managed. “It wasn’t him. He was singing.”

Paul laughed. “We both agree on that. You could hear it all over the house.”

“He had a big voice.”

“That he did,” Paul agreed.

“So, not Peterson,” Tibbet agreed, making a note on his own list. “What about the others?”

Torie went down the list.

“I’ve seen Deke Marshall since college. He came to the wedding, and the funeral. I think I saw him somewhere out, too, maybe when Pam and I went somewhere.”

Tibbet made a mark by Deke’s name.

“Of course, I see Tru everywhere.” She indicated Truman Delacorte’s name, a local businessman who was active in every Chamber of Commerce event. He was a pompous ass who seemed to believe he was in every way