Princes of Mannsborough, Part 18

by Vulgar Argot

(MF, FF, rape, F/M+)

Despite the girls' efforts not to wake him, Thule was up shortly after nine. He'd woken up earlier, but a quick glance at the other bed coupled with the sounds of muffled giggles and other, more guttural sounds convinced him that getting up at that point would either force him into an awkward rejection or make them take even longer than it already was to get out of the city.

In spite of that, he still nearly got up anyway. It clearly didn't fit into his plans, but he was still male and human. Sleep had eventually won out, though. Thule suspected he would have another chance.

When he got up around nine, Thule actually felt refreshed for the first time in weeks. Other than a slight headache from oversleeping, he guessed he'd finally caught up on the perpetual sleep debt. By that time, Dawn and Marigold were dressed, packed and ready to go. Marigold's dress was still short on Dawn, but not as dangerously so as the sun dress she'd worn yesterday. Thule wondered why Marigold hadn't offered her the more respectable looking dress for church, but decided that he probably wouldn't like the answer.

He watched Marigold with a critical eye, wondering what he had wrought. She seemed determined to do an abrupt personality about face, something Thule emphatically did not want. If she proceeded as she was going, he would have to gently remind her what he had fallen in love with her for in the first place.

Watching Dawn and Marigold interact, he could see that the two were bound to each other as strongly as they were bound to him, maybe more so. He'd watched Dawn try to protect Marigold both from herself and from Maya yesterday. Marigold had always been protective of Dawn, even if she had an odd way of showing it.

He knew, as well as he could know such things, that he could trust either of them to never betray him. He didn't entirely trust either of them to keep secrets for him, though. They just weren't wired for it. That was a relief, too. He couldn't imagine getting involved with a woman as paranoid as he was. The idea of PGP signed love notes was just too much of a stretch.

Of course, if he were really as cautious as he liked to pretend, things would not be gradually spiraling out of control for him. He'd told too many people too much already. Maya, Marigold, Dawn, Jonas, Svetlana. What the hell had he been thinking with Svetlana? There were so many different ways he could kick himself in response to that question. Once he had decoded the video of June Kane's rape, one way or another, he was going to have to go to the FBI with what he had. It was only a matter of time before somebody spilled the beans.

They managed to get out of the hotel shortly after ten and to the Spy Store just before eleven. Thule retrieved the parts he needed from an apologetic sales representative, not even stopping to browse. He wanted to get home as soon as possible. When they stopped for lunch at a non-descript little diner outside of the city, Thule paged Oksana. She called back a few minutes later.

"Thule," she said, "I was wondering where you were. You're missing a hell of a day."

"Oh?" asked Thule. "Do tell."

"The cops came by like a half hour ago and took Ian, Brianne's ex-boyfriend, out in cuffs. Then, they clipped the locks off of both of his lockers and took away everything in evidence bags.

Thule rubbed his temples. He'd been sure that neither Ivan nor Svetlana would call the cops in on this one. Had Randy? Wanting to know how much information was available, he asked, "Did they say why?"

"No," said Oksana, "but, it's pretty obvious. He was handing out flyers for his new website this morning and, while I personally didn't see it, everybody's saying that it was full of pictures of Brianne having sex with like a dozen different guys, including some wild footage from this vacation they went on together in Mexico last spring break."

"I'm not following," said Thule, "What did he get arrested for?"

"Well," said Oksana, "there's a question as to how consensual some of the situations were--and some of them go back a few years. So, I would guess it's some kind of kiddie porn thing they actually arrested him on. But, that's not the wildest part. While the police were going through his locker, they got real excited all of a sudden and evacuated the school. We're all out on the front lawn right now. Word is that they're cutting the locks off of every locker in the school now. And, it's not just local police. It's state and FBI too. Plus, there are some TV news vans coming in now."

"Shit," said Thule, "Has anyone commented on my absence?"

"Not to me," said Oksana, "Where are you anyway?"

Thule sighed, "Marigold, Dawn, and I came into the city to help Maya move. It took a lot longer than expected. Listen, did you notice if June Kane is there today?"

"She's not," said Oksana, "As soon as Brianne found out about the web site, she left. Since then, the cheerleaders have been running around like a bunch of color-coordinated chickens with their heads cut off because."

"Okay," said Thule, "thanks."

When he got off the phone, he turned to Dawn, "Call June Kane. If she answers, ask her to pick up your homework for you."

"Homework?" asked Dawn, "Thule, you've got some screwed..."

"Just do it," said Thule. "It's not about homework."

Dawn dialed her phone, listened, then hung up. "It went to voicemail."

"Call her at home," said Thule.

"I don't know her number," said Dawn.

"Use information. There should only be one Kane family in Mannsborough." Thule said. Then, he had to explain to Dawn how to use information on her cell phone. As he was explaining, his cell phone rang. He answered it.

"Dule," said the voice on the other end.

"Svetlana," said Thule as calmly as he good, "It's a surprise to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

"I am just settled in with nice man in New York," said Svetlana, "I was thinking maybe you come to New York and visit."

"Sveta, you know better," said Thule, "but, why don't you give me the number there? Maybe I'll call you in a few weeks when things settle down."

"I am getting cell phone today," said Svetlana, "But, here is number." She read off the digits. Thule wrote them down.

"Who was that?" asked Marigold, clearly trying to make it sound like a casual question.

"Svetlana Vandevoort," said Thule, trying to be equally casual.

"Randy's mother?" Marigold asked. "Why would she be calling you?"

"Stepmother," said Thule, not sure why he felt this detail was important enough to bring up at the moment. "I told her to get in touch with me when she settled in New York. She's getting divorced from Ivan."

"Oh, Thule," said Marigold, "you didn't sleep with Sveta Vandevoort. Did you?"

Thule didn't answer for a second. Marigold seemed content to wait for an answer, even if the pause seemed to speak volumes. Finally, he said, "Yes, after the party on Saturday."

"You did not," said Marigold, her voice incredulous. "Thule, how do you even know Sveta?"

"I...uh, didn't before the party," Thule said unevenly. "Wait a second. How do you know her?"

"We...met," said Marigold. "It was a long time ago. I was fourteen or so."

Thule noticed that Marigold seemed uncomfortable at the question. Before he could speak up, Dawn interrupted, worry clear on her face, "June's mother says she hasn't been home since Saturday morning."

"I was afraid of that," said Thule. "In a day or two, I'll call Silent Hills, see if I can't get a hold of her."

"Do you think she'll be there?" asked Marigold.

"I hope so," said Thule. Neither girl asked him to elaborate. He quickly filled them in on the situation at the school, adding, "It's probably better if we don't go in at all at this point. Whatever attention we might have drawn by not being there, it will be much heavier if we show up in the middle of the day. I'll take you two home, then see what's on this chip.

"I want to see what's on the chip," said Dawn. Her voice brooked no argument.

Thule looked her in the eye, "It won't be easy to watch. I have another clip, forty seconds long, bad focus, mostly audio, and it's very hard to review."

"I still want to see," said Dawn, "I need to know what almost happened to me. That wasn't my first near miss. I want it to be my last."

Thule sighed, "I really don't know what you hope to accomplish. But, it's up to you. Why don't I swing by your house so you can at least put on some of your own clothes before we proceed?"

"Shoot," said Dawn, "I still need to buy underwear. Where can we stop between here and home?"

"There are a couple of places on the way," said Thule. Both girls looked at him questioningly. He deliberately ignored them.

-=-

By two pm, they were parked outside of Dawn's house. As soon as they'd watched Dawn disappear into the house, Marigold turned to Thule, "So, are you planning on sleeping with her again?"

"Again?" asked Thule. "I haven't even slept with her once yet."

Marigold looked puzzled, then realization dawned on her face, "I didn't mean her. I meant Mrs. Vandevoort."

"Definitely not," said Thule emphatically. "It was a mistake to sleep with her the first time."

Marigold gave a harsh chuckle, but didn't say anything for a minute. When she did speak, she said, "Thule, would it be horrible if I said I wanted to renegotiate our agreement?"

"Not inherently," said Thule.

"Could you possibly promise me that you won't sleep with Svetlana again?"

Thule scowled, "I just said that. Didn't I?"

"No," said Marigold. "You said you didn't plan on it. There's a difference."

"I promise," said Thule. "But, if you've got a rule in mind, I wish you would say what it was. I don't want to have to keep having this conversation."

Marigold shook her head, "No Svetlana is the rule I want. If I'd thought even for an instant that it was a possibility, I would have made that a rule right at the start. Compared to Svetlana, I'd rather you sleep with Brianne."

Thule turned in his seat, "Why? Marigold, you seem to know her much better than I do. What did I get myself into?"

Marigold shook her head, "It's not that. She's just so beautiful and sophisticated and...wild. I could compete with Brianne, but I can't compete with that."

Thule raised one hand to stroke the side of her face and said, "Marigold, you have no idea how beautiful you are or you would never say that."

Marigold gave him a weak smile, "Maybe, but I can't be that wild."

"Little flower," said Thule. "You're already becoming wilder than I know what to do with. I fell in love with you the first time we came to New York. You don't need to change to keep me. It's actually making me nervous."

Marigold shook her head, "I'm not doing it to keep you. I'm not sure why I'm doing it...I just feel like it's something I have to do. I just feel like I missed so much."

Thule kissed her forehead, "I know. But, you've got your whole life to make up for lost time. Do you have to do it all at once?"

Marigold grinned and leaned into his hand, "I guess not." She reached up with both hands, took his index finger, guided it into her mouth, and gently bit the tip.

Thule removed his hand to make room for a kiss, sliding his arms around her, nearly pulling her into his lap.

When the kiss was over, Marigold asked, "Thule, did you use your little cameras and microphones on me, the way you do to Randy?"

"No," said Thule, "I observed you, but not like that."

"How, then?" asked Marigold.

"Like a man seeking revenge and looking for weakness," said Thule. "It's better that you not know the details."

Marigold shivered in Thule's arms. But, she did not pull away, only burrowed deeper into him.

"Dawn is taking a long time to change clothes," said Thule.

"How did you know I plagiarized my Harvard essay?"

"You left a copy of it on your Mac in the newspaper office, on the desktop," said Thule.

"Oh," said Marigold, blushing. "Was I really so careless?"

"You didn't know anybody was out to get you," said Thule, "or would recognize your essay."

Marigold looked up at him, "How did you recognize it?"

"As luck would have it," said Thule, "I wrote it--or, at least, most of it."

"No," said Marigold, "Karen Kane wrote it."

Thule raised an eyebrow, "Did you really think Karen Kane knew the word, 'captious?'"

"I didn't even know the word 'captious,'" said Marigold, "I took it out. Are you saying you wrote Karen's essay?" When Thule nodded, she asked, "Why?"

"Money," said Thule, "I was selling term papers to upper classmen at the time."

Marigold looked shocked, "You were blackmailing me for doing what you helped Karen Kane do for money. Didn't you feel a little bit hypocritical?"

"Only a little," said Thule, "College essays are a joke. I could have taught Karen how to write her own in fifteen minutes. Nobody gets into college based on one. If I'd thought you were doing something genuinely, seriously wrong, I would have ultimately had to turn you in."

"You would have done that to me?" asked Marigold.

"Probably not," said Thule, "not once I got to know you. But, that would have been the plan. I would not have counted on what a bad influence you are on my ethics."

Marigold looked like she wanted to protest, but her phone rang before she could.

"That must be my parents," she said. "Hello. Oh, Dawn. What's up?" She listened for a while, then said, "hang on." Covering the mouthpiece, she said, "Her mother just told her that, if she goes out again, she's not to come back."

Thule nodded, "All right. Tell her I'll show her the recording as soon as we get a chance."

Marigold shook her head, "She sounds like she wants to get out of there. She's really upset."

"Does she have somewhere she could go?" asked Thule. Then, he saw the way Marigold was looking at him, "Oh, no. What about your place?"

"I can ask," said Marigold, "once Jonas gets home, if you like. But, it would feel weird. Having her sleep over under my parents' noses is one thing, but....well, you have all that space and you already did it once for Oksana."

"What about after we leave for Boston?" asked Thule.

"I could ask Jonas if she could take over my room," said Marigold. "It wouldn't be so weird if I weren't there. Or, you could see if your father would let her housesit."

Thule sighed, "You really want this, don't you?"

Marigold's eyes shined, "Whenever she talks about her home life, she's very circumspect, but it sounds just awful. We just saved Maya from a bad situation. How can we do any less for Dawn?"

"Marigold," said Thule, "if you move Dawn in right under my nose..."

"I know," said Marigold. "It's all right, Thule. I would be happy to see you two together. It would be perfect."

Thule sighed. It wouldn't be perfect. But, Dawn was waiting for an answer and, even if Marigold was trying to play him like a cheap flute, she was also the one whose feelings he was trying to spare. He gestured to her, "Give me the phone." Into the handset, he said, "Dawn?"

"Thule?" asked Dawn. Marigold had been right. She sounded miserable.

"Dawn," he said reassuringly, "do you want to get out of there?"

"Yes," she said, sniffling. "Desperately. But, they're threatening to throw me out if I do."

Thule took a deep breath before continuing, "Dawn, if it's important enough, you could come live in my sister's old room, like Oksana used to. We would still have to figure out what to do with you after Marigold and I left for college, but we've got some pretty good ideas."

There was a long pause before Dawn answered. Thule could hear people yelling in the background. When Dawn spoke, her voice was calmer, "I could stay with you? That wouldn't be weird?"

"It would be extraordinarily weird," said Thule. "But, yes. You could come and stay with me. Would you like that?"

"Y-yes," said Dawn.

"All right," said Thule, "Can you just walk out or should I come inside and make sure you can get out okay?"

"Come and get me," said Dawn, "please."

"Okay," said Thule, "where are you now?"

"In my room," said Dawn.

"Okay," said Thule, "should I come in now or would it be easier for you to pack before I come in and tell your mother I'm taking you out of there?"

"Um...." said Dawn, "I should pack first."

"Okay," said Thule, "Do you want me to stay on the phone or will you call me back when you're ready for me to come and get you?"

"I can call back...Thank you so much, Thule."

"Anything for you, kiddo," said Thule. "How long do you think it will take to pack? Don't worry about getting everything--just clothes and whatever you can't do without. We can come back for the rest later."

"Fifteen minutes," said Dawn.

"Okay," said Thule, "If you don't call me in twenty, I'm coming to the front door. So, make sure you call me before then, even if only to tell me that it's going to take longer. Can you do that for me?"

There was silence. Thule said, "I can't hear you if you're nodding."

Dawn giggled unevenly, "I'll do that. Thank you, Thule. I'll call you."

Thule snapped his phone shut, then turned to Marigold, "I don't like being put on the spot like that."

"I know," said Marigold. "I'm sorry. I knew about her situation at home and talked to Jonas about her moving in with us. But...it would be weird now."

"It's going to be weird to have her at my place," said Thule. "It pretty much guarantees we're going to sleep together."

Marigold grinned, "That wasn't already guaranteed?"

Thule scowled, "No, Marigold. You've done an excellent job of throwing her at me if that was your intent."

Marigold shrugged, "I know the two of you are going to sleep with people other than me. Is it so crazy that I would rather it be each other?"

"I don't know," said Thule. "Maybe we could swing by Wingside and ask their opinion."

Marigold stuck out her tongue. Thule leaned forward and licked it.

Thule's phone rang. He opened his phone, listened, and nodded into it, "Okay. Come down to the front door when I ring the bell. How many suitcases do you have?"

"Three," Dawn said, "and a backpack."

"Okay," Thule said, "Bring down the backpack with you or nothing at all. You'll want at least one hand free. I imagine there will be a confrontation of some sort. I'll send Marigold up the stairs with you to get the rest. We're heading up the path now."

When Thule and Marigold got to the door, Dawn's father opened it. He was a worried-looking, balding man dressed in black slacks and a button-down shirt. He was about the same height as his daughter and had to crane his neck way back to smile wanly at Thule. He spoke politely, "Can I help you?"

Thule felt bad about having to risk conflict with this man. He seemed like a nice enough guy. Speaking almost deferentially, he said, "Hello, Mr. Cavendish. We're here to pick up Dawn."

"Dawn's not going out anymore today," her father said. "She's grounded."

Dawn came down the stairs, backpack in her hand. Before her father even knew she was there, she slipped under his arm and was headed out to the car.

"Dawn," her father shouted. "Dawn, come back here. You're grounded." Pushing past Thule, he chased her up the path. Thule followed him. Dawn had put her bag in the backseat and turned to head back to the house when her father caught up with her. Grabbing her by the upper arm, he said, "Dawn, get back in the house this instant."

Thule caught him by the wrist. Holding the wrist as gently as he could, he said, "Mr. Cavendish, I'm going to have to ask you not to touch her. Dawn called and asked us to help her move out."

The man looked grimly determined and didn't seem likely to let go. Thule applied a little bit of pressure to his wrist.

"Dawn," came a shrill voice from the front steps. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

On hearing the voice, Dawn's father immediately released her forearm.

"Mr. Cavendish," Thule said quietly, releasing the man's wrist, "I'm sure you don't want to do this out in the front yard. Why don't we go inside?"

Dawn's father glanced from Thule to his wife, standing on the front step, dressed in a smart aquamarine suit. Thule was already trotting up the path, trying to get ahead of Dawn, when the woman shrieked again, "Dawn, get in the house this instant."

"Get in the house, Margaret," Dawn's father said as loudly as he could without shouting, following Thule up the path.

Dawn's mother intercepted her a third of the way up the path, catching her in the same place on the arm that her husband had. Not looking at Dawn, she said to her husband in a low voice, full of menace, "How...dare...you?"

Before the man could answer, Thule said, "Mrs. Cavendish, I'm going to have to ask you not to touch your daughter. She..."

Dawn's mother reached up and slapped Thule in the face. Everyone froze.

Thule rubbed his cheek. Quietly, he said, "Marigold, go and get Dawn's bags, please."

Dawn's mother reached up and slapped him again. Dawn pulled away from her grasp and screamed, "Stop it." Thule laid a hand Dawn's on her shoulder.

"Mrs. Cavendish," he said quietly, "stop slapping me."

She turned on him in a rage. Dawn started to walk back towards the house. Thule stood his ground, knowing that, even if she attacked him, he was buying Dawn and Marigold time and she probably couldn't do much damage.

Mr. Cavendish put a hand lightly on his wife's shoulder, opening his mouth to say something. She whirled on him, shrieking again, "Don't you dare touch me." He pulled his hand away as if burned.

Realizing that the scope of the conflict was not likely to be contained by the fact that it was going on in their front yard and in easy sight of a dozen neighboring houses, Thule said as calmly as he could, "Mrs. Cavendish, Mr. Cavendish, why don't we take this inside? You don't need your neighbors watching."

Dawn's mother whirled on Thule again. He wondered if she wasn't getting dizzy with all of the spinning. She shouted, "I will go inside." Eyes flashing dramatically, she announced, "to call the police." She ran in the house, her husband trailing behind her.

Thule walked up behind them. Taking quick stock of the room, he positioned himself diagonally between the base of the stairs and the front door. The staircase was built against the wall. Either one of Dawn's parents would have to push past Thule to go up the stairs.

Dawn's father was trying to talk to her mother. The mother was having none of it and had started shrieking again. Thule could see that the man was only exacerbating his wife's anger, but didn't feel up to playing marriage counselor. As long as they were focused on each other, they weren't screaming at him.

Mrs. Cavendish turned to scream at Thule again, "Did you hear me? I'm calling the police."

"That would be inadvisable," said Thule, his eyes hard. "You assaulted me outside. You assaulted your daughter."

She gave a shriek of incoherent rage. Thule didn't budge. She screamed in his face, "You broke into my house and kidnapped my daughter."

In spite of the situation, Thule had to stifle a laugh. Dawn's father tried to speak up again, but his wife shot him such a withering glare that he closed his mouth.

"Mrs. Cavendish," said Thule calmly to the frothing woman, "if you feel the need to call the police, you should do so. But, I don't believe that they're going to charge me with breaking and entering or kidnapping."

She stared at him. There was something frighteningly feral about the look on her face. Thule could tell that she was considering how much damage she could do if she attacked him. He relaxed a little. That sort of thought pattern at least implied some degree of ratiocination.

She stormed over to the phone, "I'm calling the police."

Thule didn't say anything. There was still a small chance that she was bluffing and he didn't want to antagonize her into going through with it.

It didn't matter. She dialed, then said, "Hello. I would like to report a break-in."

"For Heaven's sake, Marla," her husband shouted. "He knocked on the front door. We let him in."

Marla glowered at her husband and said into the phone, "And a kidnapping." She listened, "My daughter." Pause, "Upstairs, in her bedroom." Pause, "No, he's down here in the living room." Pause, "Um, about six and a half feet."

"Six five," said Thule. That earned him another glare.

"He's got a buzz cut, like a serial killer. And, he's big," she said into the phone. Thule could feel that she was warming to the subject.

"You might just want to tell her it's Thule Roemer," Thule said.

Donna's mother glared at him again, "He says his name is Thule Roemer." Pause, "What?" Pause, "No, I..."

She thrust the phone at Thule angrily, "She wants to talk to you."

Thule took the phone, "Hello."

"Thule, hon," said a voice he didn't recognize, "Officer Yudin would like to speak to you."

Apparently deciding that it had been quiet long enough, Dawn and Marigold appeared at the top of the stairs, arms full of suitcases. Mrs. Cavendish looked like she might lunge for them, but Thule interposed himself long enough for them to scamper by.

"Thule," said a familiar male voice, "It's Vladi. What's going on over there?"

"Hey, Vladi," said Thule, "I'm just helping a friend move. Her parents have some concerns over the legality of the situation."

Vladi chuckled, "Want me to come put the fear of God in them?"

Thule mulled for a moment. It would certainly make life easier. But, he doubted Dawn would appreciate if he used his influence to have the cops come rough up her parents. So, he said, "No. I think you should do this one by the book."

"Thule," said Vladi, "if I did this by the book, I'd probably have to bring you all in while we untangled the mess."

Thule sighed, but got an idea, "I'm going to give Mrs. Cavendish the phone back. Maybe you should explain that to her. It might facilitate things."

"Sure, buddy," said Vladi, "Anything to avoid the paperwork."

Thule handed Dawn's mother the phone. For a while, she transferred her rage to Vladi over the phone. Whatever he told her, Thule saw the look on her face change from rage to fear. He wasn't even hearing the words anymore. His mind was already on what he needed to do next. This had already taken longer than he felt like he had time for.

So engrossed was he in thought that he almost missed it when Dawn's mother put down the phone and said shakily, "Get out of my house."

Thule shot a sympathetic glance at Dawn's father before turning to go. As he opened the door, her mother added scornfully, "And tell that ungrateful whore to never come back here."

Thule considered a number of possible responses, but in the end, decided to just pull the door closed behind him.

Out in the car, Marigold sat in the back seat, cradling Dawn's head on her shoulder while Dawn cried and shook. Thule wanted to comfort her too, but decided putting some distance between them and the house would ultimately be more useful to her state of mind.

Still, as soon as they'll pulled out of the development and onto the county road, he turned enough to say, "You handled that well back there, both of you."

Dawn laughed, creating a short-lived snot bubble, "Yeah. Future generations will refer to the tactic of running out the door with your tail between your legs the 'Dawn Cavendish.'"

Thule said seriously, "That could have been a lot worse."

Dawn nodded, "I know. I was surprised we didn't see any police."

Thule just nodded. He didn't relish trying to explain what just happened without making it sound like he had used his influence to have the police lean on Dawn's mother.

"So," he asked, "did you manage to get everything you need?"

Dawn nodded, "I think so. Marigold spotted a few things I would have really missed if I didn't bring them."

Thule nodded, "We'll set you up in Becky's room. I'm afraid I haven't been in there to clean in a few weeks, so it might need a good vacuum and dust before you take up residence."

Unexpectedly, Dawn started giggling. It wasn't the giggle of someone losing their mind either, but the rich, honest giggle of insuppressible amusement.

Thule looked in the rearview mirror, "What?"

"When you dust," Dawn asked, "do you wear an apron?"

Thule scowled a little, "Of course. I don't want to get dust all over my clothes."

Dawn looked at Marigold. Thule now realized that his girlfriend had been repressing a giggle of her own. It burst forth now. Soon, both girls were giggling, unable to stop. Thule still had no idea what was so funny.

When they had managed to get it somewhat under control, he said, "It's not like a pink, frilly apron, mind you. It's a very masculine one."

Another dam burst. Now, they were laughing out loud. Thule suddenly realized that he was bridling, his shoulders hunched. Marigold had laughed cruelly at him enough times over the last few years that it could still raise his hackles. He forced his shoulders down and made himself relax. There was no malice here and both of them could use a good laugh.

"Dawn," he said finally, "do you have any doctors you visit regularly? You should get to them this week if you can. If your parents take you off their insurance, it will take a little while, but you don't want to wait too long."

"They won't," said Dawn simply.

Thule considered her in the rearview mirror, "I don't know. Your mother was pretty mad."

"I know," said Dawn. "My father is in charge of the insurance. He would never cut me off. He didn't cut Donna off when she moved out in the middle of the night. And, even if he wanted to, he would keep me on just to antagonize my mother. Still, there are some doctors I really need to get to soon anyway."

"Little Flower," said Thule, "I'm going to be really busy this week. Could you get a car, by any chance, and help her get around? My place is kind of isolated and it's a hike and a half to the nearest bus route."

"I can ask Jonas," said Marigold. "My mother keeps pestering him that I should get more driving practice before I move to Boston."

Thule said, "We're pretty well set for household expenses. Feeding two is not much more expensive than feeding one. I'm already paying your cell phone bill and getting you to and from school. If you have time and you want to work after school, I can ask at the lab. Are there any other expenses I should know about?"

"I take a few medications," said Dawn. "I don't think they cost much. I already make some money. I work at Ogden's Garage when I can sneak out afternoons and do some tutoring."

"Shit," said Thule, taking out his phone and dialing. When the phone was answered, he said, "Ioke, I'm so sorry. With all the excitement today, I complete forgot I was supposed to tutor you. Can we do it another day--um, Thursday or Friday?"

"You don't want to tutor me today?" Ioke asked. Thule heard another speaker, trying to mask their voice, say something to Ioke, "What about later tonight? I could really use your help."

In spite of her social circle, Thule had always considered Ioke straightforward and trustworthy. So, he asked, "Ioke, is there someone there with you?"

She laughed. To Thule, it was a musical sound, "No. No one is here."

Thule said calmly, "Ioke, just answer yes or no. Are you in some sort of danger?"

She laughed again, "No, Thule. I'm fine. What time can you come by tonight?"

Thule looked at the dashboard clock, subtracting the hour and twenty minutes it was permanently ahead, "How about five?"

"Okay," said Ioke. "I'll see you at five, then."

Thule frowned and snapped his phone shut.

-=-

After they'd all carried the bags in, the girls chased Thule out of Dawn's new bedroom. Thule hadn't left himself enough time to watch what was on the camera he'd retrieved from the locker room, but had hoped to at least have time to watch it at high speed and see if he'd gotten any visuals at all. But, he wound up having to download a special driver for the camera and dig through his adapter drawer to get the non-standard adapter to talk to his PC. Once he did that, it was already approaching five o'clock. He had just enough time to copy the file onto his hard drive, encrypt it, and lock the original in his safe before he had to go.

On his way out the door, he slid made sure the pistol was loaded and slid it into the front waistband of his pants. He considered taking a couple of extra clips, but decided that any problem he couldn't handle with eight bullets wouldn't be solved with more.

It took fifteen minutes to get to Ioke's house. Her family lived in Mannsborough Park, a gated community that took itself very seriously, particularly the gate guards. This was particularly true of the gate guards, in spite of the fact that there were so many holes in the perimeter that the only people who ever came to the gate were legitimate visitors. Anyone who was here for more nefarious purposes could find another way in with minimal effort.

When Thule knocked at the front door of Ioke's house, her mother answered the front door and informed him that her daughter was in the gazebo out back. Thule had seen the gazebo from the road. He walked out to his car as if he had forgotten something. From his car, it was easy to skirt the perimeter of the yard to get to the gazebo without crossing any open space. Like many properties in this part of town, the yard was surrounded by woods. Thule took full advantage of that fact, slipping out of sight of the yard as he circled around.

That was how he saw who the other speaker had been. It was neither who he had feared or hoped. But, why she was lurking behind a tree, watching Ioke in the gazebo, was a deeply intriguing question in and of itself. Thule debated walking past her as if he didn't see her to watch what the two of them had set up, but when she reached a shaky hand into the pocket of her sweater and came out holding a cigarette, he couldn't resist reaching over her shoulder and flicking his lighter in front of her face.

He found Brianne's startled shriek quite gratifying. When she turned around and smacked him on the shoulder, he couldn't resist an evil grin.

"Nice, you fucking psycho," she said.

Thule laughed, "And a lovely day to you as well, Brianne. What are you doing hiding in the woods?"

Brianne looked around, "I need to talk to you."

"I don't know," said Thule. "I'm supposed to be giving Ioke a math lesson now. Is it important?"

Brianne whispered through mostly-clenched teeth, "Of course, it's important. Do you think I would be talking to you today if it weren't important?"

"What?" asked Thule disingenuously. "Monday?"

"Wait," said Brianne. "You weren't in school today. Do you not know what happened?"

Thule shook his head in the negative. Brianne told him basically the same story Oksana had, which was what he wanted. It was too easy for that sort of story to get warped in the telling.

"Brianne," said Thule, his face a mask of concern, "that's awful. Why would he do something like that?"

Brianne sighed. Her face was hard, "When I was fourteen, Ian got some...pictures of me. He threatened to show them to people if I didn't do things for him. That meant that he got more pictures. Once he had that, he started demanding money. Money I didn't have."

Thule, who had lit himself a cigarette while she spoke, asked, "Is that when you started selling coke?"

Brianne paled, "Who the hell told you I was selling coke?"

Thule hadn't decided how hard to twist the knife yet. Now, he decided to twist it as far as it would go, "Ian did. But, he said you cut it with rat poison and I could get it cheaper elsewhere."

"Motherfucker," exclaimed Brianne, loudly enough that Ioke poked her head out of the gazebo to see what was wrong. Thule gave her a friendly wave, Brianne a more abrupt one indicating that she should mind her own business. She looked up at Thule, "Why the hell would he do that? I was selling the coke to raise enough money to keep him paid off."

Thule shrugged, "I don't know. Ian has been acting a little strange lately. I thought you two were supposed to be a couple, but..."

Brianne glared, "What did he do?"

Thule waved her off, "I'm sure it was just trash talk."

Brianne said through gritted teeth, "Tell me."

Thule raised his hands, "Okay. Okay. I don't think it was anything, but I heard him talking trash to Randy about you, how you were only popular because you were his girlfriend and how you only controlled...what was it...the 'flow of quality pussy' because Randy was too whipped to take it away from you."

Brianne was almost apoplectic. When she opened her mouth, no words came out--only an angry sputter. Thule decided the iron was as hot as it was going to get, so he said, "I feel awful about all this, Brianne. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Never mind that," said Brianne, her eyes flashing angrily, "Thule, if I could get the money, would you kill Ian for me?"

Thule took a deep drag on his cigarette, as if seriously considering it, then asked, "How much?"

"Twenty five thousand," said Brianne, "It's what I managed to put away, what I was using to pay him off."

Thule snorted, "Nothing personal, sweetheart. But, that's chump change to me now. I'm not risking my future for that kind of money."

Brianne looked crestfallen. Thule acted like he had a sudden idea, "But, I know somebody who would. Give me a couple of days to see if he still does that sort of thing."

Now, Brianne looked buoyant, like he had just asked her to the prom, "You would do that for me?"

Thule let his eyes do a slow traversal of her body, making sure she didn't miss the way his eyes lingered on her chest and hips, "Tell me," he asked, "what were you doing in those pictures Ian put on the web?"

Brianne smiled demurely, eyes cast downward. Then, she went up on tiptoe to whisper in Thule's ear. It turned out to be quite a laundry list. He wrapped his arm around her waist. He forced himself to keep grinning and nodding, but had to admit to himself that he wasn't even sure what all of the words she was using meant. Some of the ones he did recognize left him kind of light-headed.

"Brianne," he said, quite legitimately, "I had no idea."

"Most of it, I did on vacation," said Brianne. "You don't shit where you eat, right?"

Thule was relieved to find that, apparently, none of the words meant that. Fighting to stay in character, he said, "Come to New York with me this weekend. Bring a friend. I'll arrange the meeting."

Brianne, now back on familiar ground, said, "What about The Virgin Marigold?"

Thule chuckled lustily, "The ice queen? I don't think she'd want to play with us." Then, as if he had just come up with an idea, he said, "I know. Invite June Kane."

Because his hand was on her waist, Thule felt Brianne's spine stiffen for a second before she got her feelings under control and said, "I'd love to, sweetie. But, her mom hasn't seen her since Saturday. I think she ran away."

"Too bad," said Thule. Then, "What about Ioke?"

Brianne shook her head, "She's going to take some time. I...don't have the leverage with her that I used to."

"Okay," said Thule. "You pick."

"How about that little piece you've been driving around everywhere?" asked Brianne, "Think she might come along? I think she's developed something of a crush on you. We could have a lot of fun with her."

Thule nodded, "I imagine we could."

Suddenly, she turned to face him so that they were pressed belly to belly, "Thule," she asked, "if you wanted to fuck me so bad, what were you doing with one of Randy's hired whores on Saturday?"

Thule laughed, "That was no hired whore. That was Randy's stepmother. I was supposed to be protecting her from guys like your boyfriend. Then, you ran off in a snit over something and I tried to follow you. When I came back, Ian was fucking her. Now, Randy is deeply pissed at me. So, I've got my own reasons for wanting Ian dead."

Brianne gave Thule a suspicious look, "Thule, if you don't know someone who can do this for me and are just trying to get into my panties, I'll make you regret it."

In answer, Thule slid a hand up the back of her leg, under her skirt. For a moment, she reached down to stop him, but he crushed her more tightly to him, eliciting a little grunt. Sliding his hand into the back of her panties, he pushed just the tip of his finger into her ass. Her eyes widened in surprise and she pulled away a little, only succeeding in impaling herself more deeply.

Knowing he had her emphatically undivided attention, Thule purred in her ear, "If I just wanted inside your panties, I've had ample opportunity. I could take you right now, couldn't I?" Brianne closed her eyes and nodded.

Thule slid his finger out of her, keeping his hand on her buttock, "You're a smart girl, Brianne. You know how to speculate. If I'm going to be married to that rich bitch for the rest of my life, I'm going to need a mistress, one who knows what she's doing and has enough brains to be discreet."

Brianne swooned against him. Thule asked, "I'm not wrong, am I? You are a smart girl?" Brianne nodded and, when she looked up at Thule, her eyes were bright as if with tears. Thule realized that he must have inadvertently played out some deep-seated fantasy for her. For the moment, he'd made her a very happy woman.

"Thule," she said, running a fingertip over his chest, "if you're not doing anything tonight, I'm sort of stuck for a place to stay. I could make it worth your while."

Thinking quickly, Thule said, "No can do. I've got that little piece you and June threw at me coming over tonight. I need to bend her a little if she's going to agree to this weekend."

"I could help with the bending," persisted Brianne.

"No," said Thule, "I need to do this right and you would be much too distracting. Now, what did you want to talk to me about originally tonight?"

"Oh," she said, "I wanted you to talk to Randy about me. I want it made clear to him that I want nothing to do with Ian anymore. Tell him I want to talk to him."

"I'm not in Randy's best graces right now," said Thule. "But, I'll tell him in school tomorrow if you like."

"There's no school tomorrow," said Brianne, "After Ian fucked with me, I put all the cocaine I had, some road flares out of my trunk and a map of the school with big red 'X's drawn on it in his locker. They're going over every inch of the school with bomb sniffing dogs. They'll be there until tomorrow."

Thule whistled, genuinely impressed. Sliding his hand out of Brianne's underwear, he patted her gently on the ass, "Like I said, smart girl."

Thule couldn't believe that the entire conversation had taken only fifteen minutes. He felt like he'd aged fifteen years during the course of it. Still, when he checked his cell phone as he finally mounted the gazebo steps, it was only twenty minutes after five.

"Sorry for the delay," he said.

"Did you and Brianne have a nice conversation?" asked Ioke.

Thule nodded, "More or less."

Ioke leaned forward as Thule sat down so that she could whisper, "I don't know what she told you about me, but..."

"The same thing you told me when I asked you out," said Thule, "that you have a boyfriend on Maui who you love very much. I respect that."

Ioke eyed him suspiciously, "Do you mean that?"

"Sure," said Thule, "loyalty is a very important quality."

She sighed, her shoulders dropping in relief, "Thank you, Thule. I always thought you were a genuinely nice guy."

"That's me," said Thule, "a veritable prince among men."

As it turned out, Ioke really did need help with her math. So, for the next hour, Thule helped her out. She didn't flirt with him. He didn't flirt with her. Thule found it quite pleasant to spend an hour with someone from his school who just seemed to be a genuinely nice person, more or less untouched by all of the dirty politics. Plus, she smelled really good.

As they were wrapping up, Thule said, "So, it looks like you'll probably be head cheerleader next year."

"Yeah," said Ioke thoughtfully, "Brianne was just talking about that."

"Today?" asked Thule, raising an eyebrow.

"No," said Ioke, "she had other things on her mind today. But, Saturday night, after she went to the party at Randy's house, she came by here, very agitated and wanting to talk about the future of the squad. At the time, I still thought it was going to be June, but Brianne thinks she ran away."

Thule just nodded like it was idle gossip, "I suspect my friend Dawn would love another chance to be on the squad next year."

Ioke chuckled, "Keep helping me with my math and I'll see what I can do."

-=-

When Thule got back to the house, Marigold and Dawn jumped up guiltily from the couch. Thule pretended not to notice. The house was warm and smelled like something rich and savory.

"Ah," he said, "I forgot what it was like to have someone around here to do all of the woman work. I did mention that you were on permanent scullery duty while you were here, didn't I?"

Dawn wrinkled her nose, "Oh, but you're so cute when you do woman's work. I was looking forward to long evenings spinning and carding together."

"Did you have a productive tutoring session?" broke in Marigold.

"Eventually," said Thule, letting the word hang in the air until Marigold raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Brianne was there. We had a very interesting conversation."

"Really?" asked Marigold.

Thule nodded, then told them about the road flares and the map. He left off the rest. This had to stay close to the vest.

"Wow," said Marigold, "he's going to be pissed."

"Fuck how pissed he's going to be," said Dawn, "if he did something like that to me, I would kill him."

"It couldn't have happened to a nicer person," agreed Marigold, "Dinner's just about ready."

Thule made a doubtful face, "I hope it's not too heavy. I'm not sure I want to watch what's on that chip on a full stomach."

Dawn tsked, "If it's too much for you, we could watch and give you a transcript."

Thule scowled. Sometimes, it was just too much work to try to talk them out of their flip attitudes. They would see soon enough.

-=-

The two girls sat on the bed, Thule in the chair off to one side of the computer. The camera he'd stolen from Adam was known for taking crystal clear, full-color pictures and decent sound for a couple of hours before using up all of its battery power. It was often used to record information that needed to be admissible in a court of law later.

So, it was in full screen color that the video started. The first thing they saw was Thule's face, then an upside down image of the tableau he'd seen in the girl's locker room. Over the next sixty seconds, the picture settled and balanced itself. That was another feature of the camera. The actual lense floated in a silicate gel and was weighted to take pictures right side up, no matter how you initially installed the camera.

They watched as the camera unflinchingly played back twenty minutes of June Kane being gang raped by one football player after another. The football players laughed and joked, cheered each other on. Some reached down to punch or slap her, pinch her nipples, or pull her hair. Every time she shrieked, it brought another burst of laughter. At some point, Thule heard Dawn's feet hit the floor and run across the room, followed by retching sounds from the bathroom. Thule looked over his shoulder at Marigold, who looked rather green around the gills. Thule suspected that he was as well.

Dawn came back a minute later, looking sheepish. She couldn't hide from the recording in the bathroom. Every time June's mouth was left empty, she shrieked obscenities or screamed what Brianne would do to them when she found out. This was responded to at first by more laughs and jeers. But, eventually, the boys made no sound at all, save the occasional grunts of release.

When the siren sounded and the red and blue lights flashed off of the locker room wall, all three watching the recording breathed audible sighs of relief. For a second, the boys actively raping June stopped. Randy waved to them to continue before stepping past the camera. He had a brief conversation with Vladi, barely heard by the microphone. No. There was no one shooting. No. He was fine. The team was just blowing off a little steam.

A few minutes later, police cars began pulling out of the parking lot outside. As each started back up, it's siren gave a quick "urp." All the while, the football players kept grimly pounding away at June Kane. Thule would have been hard pressed to say if they were even really enjoying it anymore.

Then, Vladi and two other uniformed officers Thule didn't immediately recognize walked past the camera. Randy greeted them. The player on top of June gave a few more thrusts, shuddered, and got off of her. At some point, June had stopped bothering to scream. She just looked at the cops with hollow eyes and whimpered.

The football players stood around watching as Vladi leaned down and, with exceeding gentleness, untied June's elbows. Thule could tell by the attitude of everyone standing around that the gentleness wouldn't last. He was right. Once they got June to her feet, the cops started passing her back and forth from hand to hand, pushing, shoving and pinching, trying to get a rise out of her. Once she raised her arms in some feeble attempt to cover her head, that was all it took. All three closed in on her and, after the briefest of struggles, they were raping her too. There was a certain viciousness to them that only Randy had really shown before. Soon, the football players were laughing and cheering again.

Then, it happened. One of the cops finished with June. Randy stepped in for more. As June was being handed off, Randy reached for her and seemed to catch her. But, a moment later, as if in slow motion, she fell backwards. When her head hit the bench, it made a dull crack, loud enough that everyone stopped what they were doing and just froze in place.

One of the cops Thule didn't recognize leaned down and took a pulse at June's throat. He gave Vladi a meaningful glance.

Vladi crouched down, "Man," he said loudly, "she is going to have a hell of a headache in the morning." There was some nervous laughter from the players as if everyone wanted to believe him, but it looked like no one really did.

"You guys go to the party," he said, "We'll take care of this." The players, only too happy to have it taken out of their hands, filed out. A few even started chattering on the way. One of them got pushed playfully into the camera, knocking it on a wild angle. Even after it righted its lens, they were looking at a spot high on the wall and a fluorescent lighting panel. There was little sound for the next few minutes, only a few grunts of effort, then the light went out and, a couple of minutes later, the sirens of the last two cars made a twin "urp" as they pulled away.

-=-

When Thule drove Marigold home, it was mostly in silence. Both seemed absorbed in their own thoughts. Dawn had elected to stay home and do the dishes, even after both of them had tried to convince her to ride along.

As they pulled up outside of her house, Marigold said, "Thule, that could have been Dawn."

Thule didn't point out that it could have been Marigold, too. He never had figured out what Brianne and Ian had in mind that day in the newspaper office, but he doubted it was benign. Instead, he said, "It wasn't. It was somebody who tried to set Dawn up for that."

Marigold looked surprised, "Now you're saying she deserved it?"

"No," said Thule wearily. "I'm saying that...Hell, I don't know what I'm saying. I'm glad it wasn't Dawn."

Marigold leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, "You'd better get back. She may want some time to herself, but I doubt she wants as much as she thinks."

"I need to go back into the city tomorrow," said Thule, "I need to give the FBI what I have."

"Will they listen to you?" asked Marigold.

"I think so. This should do it," said Thule. "If they don't, I have other avenues to explore."

Marigold kissed him again and got out of the car, "Go keep an eye on my girlfriend."

Thule frowned at the nomenclature. But, considering that he had used it first, he didn't have much of a leg to stand on.

When he got back to the house, Dawn was just finishing up with the dishes. She seemed to be relaxed and in good spirits. Thule showed her where to put the dishes away. A few times, she rubbed up against him, but it might have been accidental or just a desire for human contact. Thule hoped she wouldn't press the issue tonight.

After they'd finished cleaning up, Dawn said quietly, "You've saved me twice now and I don't know if I ever said 'thank you.'"

"Well," said Thule. "I also cuffed you to a weight bench and menaced you. How about we call it even?"

Dawn blushed a little as she tilted her head and said, "That wasn't so bad. Certainly no worse than any given day at my parents' house."

"I had no idea it was so bad," said Thule. "You really had me snowed with the whole, 'happy, peppy' act."

Dawn laughed, leaning back against the kitchen island, one hand running through the hair at the back of her head, "It's not really an act, not most of the time. You only saw me outside of that house. That was reason enough to be happy and peppy. I'm so sorry you had to deal with my parents."

"Well," said Thule, rubbing his cheek, "I do see where you get your slapping genes."

"Aw," said Dawn, taking the three steps to where Thule leaned against the kitchen counter. Standing up on tiptoe, she placed a small kiss on his much-abused cheek. Thule let his arm rest around her waist. Coming down off tiptoe, Dawn laid her head on his shoulder, content to rest there.

Thule held her there for a couple of minutes, waiting for her tears, but they never came. Finally, he said, "Dawn, would it be okay if we sat down? If lean back here, my ass is going to get soaked."

Dawn smiled and skipped to the couch, seemingly full of boundless energy again. Thule shook his head, chuckling, and joined her. Flipping on the tv, Dawn curled up against him. Thule put his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled in, switching channels until she found some innocuous situation comedy that Thule had never seen before, but figured out the premise of pretty quickly. After about five minutes of it, he wanted to find something to read, but decided to just sit and enjoy the relative serenity. Dawn seemed to be following and enjoying the show, but not in a slack jawed, catatonic way. At the first commercial break, he reached down and mussed her hair. Muting the tv, she looked up at him, smiling.

"You hear that?" she asked.

Thule listened, "I hear a lot of things. Refrigerator compressor, my old CRT flickering in my room, traffic, crickets."

She laughed and put a hand on his chest, "You sure know how to ruin a good cliché. Try again. Do you hear that?"

Thule listened, playing along, "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly," said Dawn. "And, if we want, it could stay like that. Nobody would scream or throw things or slam doors or anything."

Thule nodded, thanking his luck for a moment that his parents had gotten divorced when he was younger and more resilient than Dawn. And, it had taken only a year and a half of screaming.

"Thule," asked Dawn quietly, "would it be all right if I slept with you tonight?"

Thule considered the question. He could just answer in the affirmative and let what happened happen. He rejected the plan. If he wanted Dawn, he didn't need to take her when she was scared and vulnerable. Besides, he had about a half dozen potentially fatal things to do tomorrow. It would be better if they didn't start anything tonight. So, he asked, "Sleep?"

Dawn nodded against him, "I would wear pants and everything. I'm just a little weirded out by tonight's episode of 'America's Scariest Rape Video.' I'd rather not be alone."

"Fair enough," said Thule, "I'd like to hit the sack soon, though. I'm heading back into New York tomorrow to talk to the FBI."

"Do you think they'll listen to you?" she asked.

"I can't see how they wouldn't," said Thule, sounding more confident than he felt.

Dawn slipped into bed a few minutes after Thule, curling up against him, her back to his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Having started the day well-rested, Thule found himself restive. He and Dawn talked in low voices well into the night. When she finally dozed off, it took him a long time to do the same, listening to the compressors and monitors, the crickets and Dawn's breathing. But eventually, he was asleep.