Room 271 was crowded. Both Kay and Bert had insisted on being present with Chief Foster and Sergeant Leden when they questioned Jaret. Dr. Rosner was also there. The chief had refused to admit Peggy.
Foster pulled at one long earlobe. “Now, this isn’t going to be pleasant, Jaret, but I have to ask you some questions, so to speak.”
“I know,” she said.
Kay, holding Jaret’s hand, gave it a comforting squeeze.
“Now then,” Foster said, “do you know the name of your attacker?”
“Yes.”
Bert’s hands involuntarily tightened into fists.
“Who was it?”
“Richard Summers,” she said, “also known as Mid.”
Kay’s mouth dropped open slightly. He was a friend of Chris’s, Zach Summers’s brother. She looked at Bert as he, jolted, looked at her.
“You’re sure of that?”
“Very sure.”
“You know him personally, so to speak?”
“What d’you mean?”
“A friend of my brother’s.”
“Oh?” Foster raised both bushy eyebrows as if he’d discovered a very important piece of information. “So then you knew him? He wasn’t a stranger to you, so to speak?”
“No.”
“Was he your boyfriend?” he asked suddenly, leaning over very close to her.
His tobacco breath was terrible and Jaret rolled her head away from him.
“Why are you turning away like that?” His tone was accusatory.
“What is this?” Bert said. “Why are you harrassing her?”
Foster stood up, slowly turned his hulking body toward Bert. “Mr. Tyler, I have allowed you to be here during the questioning out of the goodness of my heart and because, having a daughter of my own, I know what you must be suffering. Howsoever, if this continues, this outbursting, I’ll have to ask the sergeant to escort you out.” He turned back to Jaret, not waiting for Bert to respond. “Now, young lady, was this Richard Summers your boyfriend?”
“No.” Jaret’s eyes were closed.
“What were you doing in the woods with him alone?”
“That’s enough,” Kay shouted. “Whose side are you on?”
“Sergeant,” Foster said, indicating Kay with a nod of his head.
Leden, unmoving, flushed with discomfort. “Oh, Chief, I don’t think—”
“Sergeant Leden,” the chief broke in, his tone threatening, “would you please see the lady out?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tyler.” The sergeant’s embarrassment prevented him from looking at Kay. “You’ll have to leave.”
“The hell I will. You, Chief Foster, are harrassing my daughter.”
Dr. Rosner put a hand on Kay’s arm. “You’ll all have to calm down or the questioning period will have to terminate.”
“Please,” Jaret said. “It’s okay, Mom. I can answer.” She knew what Kay was reacting to, felt it herself, but she wanted to get this over with. “I wasn’t with him in the woods. I was there by myself and he . . . he found me there.”
“Why were you there alone?” Foster asked.
Bert simply couldn’t contain himself. “Don’t you think you ought to pick up the Summers boy?”
“You telling me my business, Mr. Tyler?”
“Maybe someone should.”
“I cannot make an arrest until I know the details. There might be extenuating circumstances, so to speak.”
“Look at her,” Bert said. “What possible extenuating circumstances could there be?”
“Mr. Tyler, you don’t understand. A case of rape and a case of assault are two different things.”
“This is both,” said Bert.
Foster smiled, nodded his head. “That, Mr. Tyler, is what I’m trying to determine.”
His implication was clear. Obviously, Jaret had been brutally beaten; but perhaps the sexual act had not been rape.
Jaret broke the silence. “Chief, I wasn’t a willing partner. He raped me.”
“That so?” The chief shot a glance at Leden, who looked away. “Now then, when this boy found you alone in the woods, what were you doing?”
“I was lying on my blanket.”
“Lying on a blanket,” he repeated with astonishment.
Bert started to speak but Dr. Rosner stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“And what did you have on?” Foster asked.
“Now that’s enough,” said Kay.
“I ought to let you have it.” Bert was ready to swing but Leden stepped between him and the chief.
“Mr. and Mrs. Tyler,” said Foster, with exaggerated patience, “you are obstructing the wheels of justice, so to speak.”
“And you’re badgering my child,” Kay said.
“I must look at all the possibilities.”
“And you’re saying that one of the probabilities is that Jaret was responsible for this? Is that right?”
“If she’s innocent, Mrs. Tyler, then there’s nothing to get so het up about.”
“If?” Bert shouted.
“Mr. Tyler, sir,” said the chief, full of condescension, “I have experience in these matters. A boy, a girl, a little kissing, maybe some petting, naturally the boy gets excited and then the girl says no. The poor boy goes crazy with frustration and—”
“I’ve heard everything I have to know,” Kay said. “The poor boy? Oh, my God. It just makes me want to throw up.”
Bert put his arm around Kay. “My daughter has told you who it was,” he said. “And she has also told you that she was in the woods alone, that the Summers kid was not her boyfriend and that he beat and raped her. I think you have all the information you need.” His tone was firm, deadly.
Foster started to say something, changed his mind and turned to go. Leden, flashing an apologetic smile at the Tylers, followed him.
Dr. Rosner shook his head. “Don’t let it get to you, Bert.”
“Why not?”
“You have a point. I think Jaret should rest now. You can take her home later this afternoon. There’s nothing we can do for her here that loving parental care can’t do.”
Kay and Bert agreed, kissed Jaret goodbye and left her to get some sleep.
Chris, trembling, sat on the porch waiting for Mid to finish his breakfast, uncertain what he should do. Mid was two inches taller than he and had at least twenty-five pounds on him. Still, Chris didn’t know if he would be able to control himself.
“Hiya, sport.” Mid jabbed at Chris’s arm with his fist.
Chris pulled away, brushed at the spot with his hand as though he’d been contaminated. He tried to smile, say hello. Nothing would come.
“You’re up and at ’em early. What’s the deal?” Mid danced around a porch post, shadowboxing. He didn’t look at Chris. “Huh? How come? What’s up?”
“Rape,” Chris said solemnly. He hadn’t intended it to happen this way but something about Mid’s behavior forced the word from his mouth.
Still Mid did not look at him. He kept sparring, dancing. “What?”
Chris grabbed Mid’s arm. “Jaret,” he said, speaking with difficulty, “Jaret was beaten and raped.”
“No kidding?” Mid gave a long whistle. “Heavy.”
“Shut up,” Chris said. “Just shut up.”
“What?”
“I know you did it, Mid,” Chris squared off in front of him, his fists ready.
“You’re crazy.”
“She told me.”
“Then she’s crazy. I was in my room all yesterday afternoon.”
“How’d you know when it happened?” He raised his fists slightly to waist level.
Mid began to stammer, face turning red.
“I know you did it, Mid, so there’s no point saying you didn’t.”
“Get off my case, man. She’s a queer. You try to lay this on me and I’ll say that she does it with Peggy Danziger. I saw them.”
Chris was incredulous. Could Mid really believe this threat would protect him? “Why did you do it?”
“Look at it this way, man. Now she knows what it’s like with a guy. Whoever did it did the girl a favor. You don’t want a dyke for a sister, do you?”
Chris swung. There was no question in his mind that Mid had done it. Who else would talk that way? Mid ducked and started to laugh, sure Chris couldn’t take him. What he didn’t count on was Chris’s anger and outrage. Mid was shocked when Chris tackled him and threw him to the ground. They rolled across the lawn, neither one hearing the police siren. Chris kneed Mid, who groaned and doubled over as Sergeant Leden jumped from his black-and-white.
Peggy saw Jaret for the first time around noon. Nothing she’d imagined was as bad as Jaret’s bruised and battered face. “Oh, Cree Cree,” she said, “you look just awful.”
“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I feel so guilty.” Peggy began to cry. “It’s all my fault. If only I hadn’t left you alone, Jare.”
The stinging memory of yesterday’s fight returned to Jaret. Still, she knew Peggy wasn’t responsible for what had happened. “Don’t lay that trip on yourself, Peg. There was no way to know. Hindsight, si, foresight, no.” She attempted a smile which pulled at the front of her nose, hurting terribly. She moaned.
“Oh, babe,” said Peggy.
“It only hurts when I breathe.”
Peggy laughed.
“Anyway,” said Jaret, “Foster’s throwing the blame around like it’s going out of style. Don’t you try to get in on the act.”
Jaret told her about the interview with the police chief. They discussed Foster, Mid, Claire.
Then Peggy said, “Jare, I have something to tell you. Last night while you were lying out there in the woods I was out with that gazinga. I’ll never forgive myself.” She covered her face with her hands, sobbing.
“What gazinga?”
“The McClinchie gazinga,” she wailed. “I decided to get it over with.”
“How was he?” Under the covers Jaret crossed her fingers.
“Just awful,” Peggy bawled. “I couldn’t relate to him at all. So bor-ing.”
Jaret relaxed. “Come up for air,” she said gently, stroking Peggy’s hair.
“Do you forgive me?” She peeked at Jaret through her fingers.
“Course I do.”
Quickly closing her fingers, Peggy said, “There’s something else.”
“What?”
“I kissed him.”
Jaret felt a pang of jealousy. “And?”
Peggy took her hands from her face. “Have you ever kissed the outside of a cantaloupe?”
“No, but I’ve tried Wonder bread.”
“That’s it! Perfect.”
They laughed. Jaret held her side.
“Oh, I can’t keep making you laugh,” Peggy said.
“No, please don’t. Let’s be serious.”
The words were like some kind of cue for laughter. Jaret knew if she didn’t stop she’d pass out from pain. “Okay, okay . . . listen.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m serious now, really. There’s something I didn’t tell you about Mid. He’s been watching us. He knows everything, and he said if I identified him he’d tell everyone about us.”
“Oh.” It was all Peggy could think to say.
“It was his ace in the hole, he said. He was sure I wouldn’t want anyone to know, sure I’d never identify him because of it. Fool.”
“Do you think he will tell?”
Jaret caressed her hand. “Yes, Peg, I do.”
Slowly, Peggy stood and walked to the window, looked out over the green lawn.
“Peg?”
Peggy felt as though her life were ending, seeping away.
“Char? Can you bear it?”
Turning, Peggy looked at Jaret’s ravaged face. Never had she felt more empty, more shallow in her life. Yet she felt impelled to be honest. “I don’t know, Jare. I just don’t know.”