Sense of Rumor (Mount Faith Series: Book 6) (9 page)

"Yes," Arnella's voice sounded husky and ill used, even to her ears. "I should have wrung his scrawny neck."

"But why?" Tracy asked puzzled. "I don't know you to be an angry person."

"He drugged me at your house and had sex with me without my consent." Arnella said sitting up in the bed and looking around.

"Are you sure Nella?" Tracy asked doubtfully. "You said this already but I can't really think of when they would have done that at the party."

Arnella stretched and put her feet on the floor. She yawned. "I know what I went through; I was not hallucinating. David was the main one in this whole sordid affair. I am going to get him."

"Now Nella, remember, nothing really bothers you." Tracy had a smug sound in her voice.

It made Arnella pause. It was almost as if Tracy was happy that she had been assaulted. She straightened her clothes. "Well, yipee for you. This one really bothers me."

"You sound like you need a little cheering up," Tracy said, changing the subject abruptly. "Want to go out later. You know, I haven't seen you since you've been up here. That's bad."

Arnella didn't want to go out, especially with Tracy. She felt tired and worn and strangely drained, as if talking to Taj had drained her vital energy. "I'll have to take a rain check on that."

"Well maybe this weekend then," Tracy said. "My club, InLaw, is having an oldies party, want to come?"

Arnella swallowed her denial. She was reluctant to go to any party ever again. "I might. I'll call you back," she said to Tracy reluctantly.

"Don't wait too long to tell me," Tracy said. "We have an RSVP guest list, and we are car pooling."

"Okay," Arnella hung up the phone and sat down on the bed abruptly. She had let it all out on Taj earlier: her life, all the things she had bottled up and she was not even finished.

She realized that it hadn't even really been a session. She had just told him about her life and then fell asleep. She got up and peeped around the door. The carpeted hallway was empty. She headed to the sign that said ‘lobby’, and a nurse stopped her when she was about to leave.

"Dr. Jackson has set up a schedule for you." She handed Arnella a sheet of paper. "These are based on the breaks you have between classes. The sessions are twice weekly."

Arnella took the sheet of paper from her. "Wow, you guys are efficient."

The nurse smiled. "Don't be late for appointments."

Arnella nodded and headed outside.

Chapter Seven

Taj had had several patients during the day, but Arnella stood out in his mind. She was obviously battling with a list of problems that started from childhood. It was that kind of childhood setting that made him want to call his dad and Harriet and just talk.

They both knew how to raise children. They had raised him and he had not felt deprived even though he was adopted. He considered Ryan Bancroft to be his bonus father/friend whom he played squash with. His dad was his psychiatrist; he may not be trained, but he really knew how to give him good advice, solicited or not.

He was going through some tough decisions now. He was living with Jackie Beecher, platonically of course, though she had ramped up her come hither actions since she had signed a contract to be in Mount Faith for another year. At first, he had responded to the come-ons. He used to lightly flirt with her, especially when Natasha was away on some private detective case or the other. He had quickly rethought his attitude to Jackie and had sorted out his misguided feelings for her. All he wanted now was to be with Natasha. She had one course left to graduate with her master’s degree in Forensic Psychology and then he would pop the question.

He pushed his hand into his pocket and felt the ring box. Maybe he should do it now, before she finishes in December. He had been treating Jackie distantly, and she had ramped up the vamp.

He opened his front door and was immediately bombarded with the scent of incense. Jackie was draped across the sofa. Her long hair was brushed out and flowing over one arm. Her lips were painted mulberry red, and she was listening to mood music. Her red negligee revealed one bare arm.

He paused at the door and raised his eyebrows. "Jackie. I hope I am not interrupting anything."

"Oh, hi," Jackie said to him breezily. "I am unwinding, easing the tension of the day."

Taj grinned. "Okay, let me not interrupt."

"No," Jackie said, getting up, her sultry pout replaced with a plea. "Please stay. I need to talk. "

Taj sighed and sat down across from her. "I'm all ears."

"I think Natasha is wrong for you," Jackie said softly.

Taj shook his head. "I can't think why."

"She has a black belt in some strange Asian discipline. She'll break your neck if you two have an argument and nobody is around."

Jackie adjusted her negligee top to show more skin, looking at Taj while she did it. Seeing no visible softening of his eyes on her, she hissed her teeth. "You are so controlled. Unnaturally so."

Taj leaned back in his chair. "It's called dissociation. This one is mild detachment. One develops it over time, dealing with patients."

"Taj, I'm not a patient," Jackie said, frustrated with him. "You liked me one time. I could see it. Don't deny it. You were softening toward me. What caused this coldness?"

"For one crazy moment, well maybe a month, I thought about being with you." Taj shrugged. "I wouldn't have been human if I hadn't. You are really gorgeous and I am a healthy heterosexual male."

"Thanks," Jackie preened. "So what changed?"

"I love how you look, but I love Natasha, all of her, even when she's grumpy. I can't shake it; she's the one."

"But she is always away on some covert mission or the other," Jackie said pouting, "She thinks that her career is more important than your relationship. That, in my opinion, is a deal breaker."

Taj laughed. "Isn't that why you and Gareth divorced?"

"Yes," Jackie smirked, "but see, I learned my lesson. I am now more aware of what to do in a relationship. I am a far better option than Natasha right now because she hasn't learned that lesson yet."

The doorbell rang and Taj raised his eyebrows at Jackie. "Expecting somebody?"

Jackie shrugged. "No. You?"

Taj shook his head and got up. Jackie reclined on the sofa and smiled wickedly when she heard Natasha's voice at the front door.

"You left a message at the front desk of my building saying that you wanted to see me." Natasha hugged Taj. "That's so sweet. I thought you said you had a whole lot of paperwork and..." Her voice trailed off when she came into the living room and saw Jackie in lingerie, smiling benignly.

Taj had a perplexed look on his face.

"What is it, detective?" Jackie asked, purring, "You look shell-shocked." She arched her back seductively. "You really can't barge into our mutual dwelling without warning, you know. You just might interrupt something private."

Natasha sat down in the chair across from Jackie and chuckled. "Taj hates incense; reminds him of his mother's funeral. Aren't you tired of the staged seduction scenes? I am not as gullible as Kylie, you know. She told me the story of your little bid to get between her and Gareth."

Jackie sighed and got up. "It was worth a shot." She swung her hair back in frustration,  "I am not really an evil villain, as everybody is making me out to be, you know, including that milk-mouthed Kylie."

Natasha chuckled, "I believe you."

Jackie snarled. "Don't sympathize with me. You have no idea how hard I worked to get Taj to give you up."

Natasha shook her head and watched as Jackie flounced to her room.

"You better marry her fast Taj, or you are fair game." Jackie looked at him soulfully and then slammed her door.

Taj sighed and sat down beside Natasha. "She's right." He felt in his pocket and took out the ring box he had been carrying around for days. He removed the ring. "Tash, I love you. Will you marry me?"

Natasha giggled. "Love you too, and of course I'll marry you."

She kissed him on the lips and then drew back and looked him in the eyes. "We are not going to be living here with Jackie, are we?"

Taj shook his head vehemently. "Oh, no. I will have to sort out something."

Chapter Eight

The weekend came too quickly for Arnella. She was just getting into the groove of school. Tracy called Arnella as soon as she stepped into Computer 101, her final class on Friday morning and her final class for the week. It was in the Information Science building.

"Arnella, you haven't gotten back to me about that party." Tracy was in her apartment filing her nails. "It's Saturday night you know. I have to give my friends some feedback today."

Arnella grimaced; she had completely forgotten about Tracy and her party. "I can't," Arnella said, taking her seat at a computer that was at the back. "I have stuff to do."

Truth was, she didn't want to hang out with Tracy, and she had her art to do. She was itching to finish a painting for Taj that she had started. She saw that he liked earth tones so she was doing an abstract for him for his office. It could double as an engagement present as well. He told her, at their session yesterday, that he had proposed to Natasha.

"Stuff?" Tracy asked, a sneer in her voice. What could be more important than hanging out with her? Everyday she was getting increasingly curious about Arnella. She realized that Arnella was drawing herself away from her, and that bothered her.

"Yup, stuff." Arnella turned on her computer. "I have to go; my teacher is here." Arnella hung up the phone, wishing she hadn't lied to Tracy. Her teacher was not there yet, but she was tired of Tracy.

She checked her email account and saw an email from a strange address with the caption "
I know what you did at the party."

Her hands started to tremble and her heart started pounding in her chest. She didn't want to open it. She stared at the screen for so long that her eyes started to water.

"Hey," said an older lady who was sitting beside her. "You look like you know computers well. I am going to need some help to get through this class. I am hopeless. My name is Sadie. What's yours?"

Arnella cleared her throat and dragged her eyes from the screen. "Arnella." She smiled, or at least she hoped the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile because Sadie looked like a pleasant lady.

She put both hands in her lap and willed them to stop shaking. Then, taking a deep breath, she clicked on the mail. There was a message; it was brief and read, "Bad bad girl." Below it was a video clip. She knew that she shouldn't play the video clip in the class, but she was itching to see it nevertheless.

The teacher finally arrived ten minutes late, but when she spoke, Arnella didn't hear a word. She had the window open with the email, and she kept going back to it. From just looking at the message, she was breathing hard; she could hear it in her own ears. She felt like passing out from the fear of what was in that video. It had to be a clip from the party. Was it with her and those guys? Her left foot kept jumping, and she couldn't stop the involuntary action. She kept glancing at the clock, waiting for the hour-long class to be over. She almost sobbed in relief when class was over.

"Are you okay dear?" Sadie asked her, concerned. "You don't have asthma, do you?"

"No," Arnella said weakly. "I just don't feel too well."

"Want me to follow you to the school nurse, or to the Medical Center?" Sadie persisted.

"No, thanks," Arnella said weakly. "My cousin, Kylie, is a lecturer here; I am going to see her. She'll know what to do."

"Okay then." Sadie reluctantly left her and Arnella realized that her trembling hands were icy cold. Even the bulk sweater she had carried to wear in the lab was not doing anything for her cold extremities.

She was shivering. She looked at the mail again, then pressed the play button on the video. It was a picture of her in the swimming pool when she was floating on the donut and calling to Alric; the video zoomed into her tongue ring. There was a song playing in the background. She almost released a sigh, but then the transitioned and she saw herself passionately kissing David. The video blacked out and the words “More to Come” flashed on the screen.

The tremor in her hand came back with a vengeance. She inhaled but couldn't get in enough breaths. Those hudlums had video taped her and had the nerve to send it to her. She sat in the lab with her hand over head for what seemed like hours. Students came in to use the lab; she could hear murmurings and sometimes the odd laugh or cough, but she couldn't move.

"Arnella," Gareth Beecher said above her head.

Arnella shook her head.

"I know it is you," Gareth said. "Why are you hiding around here?"

Arnella looked at him blearily. She had closed her eyes so tightly that when she opened them she had to let them adjust to the light.

Gareth was looking at her, concerned. "Come to my office now."

Arnella didn't want to move; maybe if she stayed still long enough he would go away, but Gareth was standing above her, not moving an inch. She got up reluctantly. She felt like an ancient grandmother who had the world on her shoulders. She double-checked to make sure that her mail account was closed and followed Gareth to his office.