Stepping Up To Love (Lakeside Porches 1) (4 page)

She nodded.

“Where are we likely to find a bicycle?”

“Garage. I don’t have a key, though.”

“No problemo. I moonlight as a private eye.” He finally got a smile out of her.

“From the looks of this truck, you moonlight as a carpenter.”

“Joel said you were bright.”

“Time I started using my brain instead of hiding my head in a bottle of scotch.”

Tony told her, “We call that denial. It makes everything worse.”

“You think? I was in deep, and the only part I knew how to handle was studying and working. I just pretended the bad stuff would go away.”

“How’d that work for you?” Tony said with a knowing smile.

Manda wasn’t smiling. “Except for studying and working, drinking took over my life.”

“You flunking out?”

“No, I’m still getting good grades, and my boss likes my work. Unless Joel decides to fire me.”

“I think that’s up to you. You hold up your end of the bargain, he’ll hold up his.”

Manda let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for saying that.”

“You are one brave chick, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

He insisted, “It took a lot of guts to come clean with the big boss about what’s been happening. And to come back with me to the scene of the crime. What’s so funny?”

Manda laughed. “The ‘brave chick’ thing. More like ‘desperate.’ I’d skip this mission if I didn’t know my glasses are somewhere in the living room and my laptop is in my bedroom. I can’t believe I drove without my glasses last night. I am seriously near-sighted.”

“Were you drunk?”

“No, for a change.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard you tell Joel you’re planning to stay away from booze.”

Manda nodded and looked unsure about what to say about that.

Tony told her, “I’ve been sober six years. Went to AA. Best thing I ever did.”

Manda swiveled toward him. “No way.”

Tony grinned. “Way.”

“What’s it like?” she pumped him. “Do you still go to meetings?”

“Every day I can.” He told her about his first AA meeting, the sense of belonging he felt right away. “Everybody drank like I did and reached the point where they couldn’t go on drinking and have any kind of a life.”

Manda was nodding, though she didn’t seem ready to disclose any more details about her drinking.

He told her people welcomed him and wanted him to stay sober and be happy and useful like they were. “I’ll take you to a meeting this weekend if you want. There’s a hot dog meeting in Canandaigua Saturday night at seven.”

“Yeah, I’d really like that. What’s a hot dog meeting?”

“They serve hot dogs at the end of the meeting.”

Manda laughed. “Some things are what they sound like.”

“You’re right, we have our own vocabulary. You’ll get used to it. And, listen, no funny stuff out of me. I’m not looking to jump your bones. I’ve got a girlfriend. She might even come with us.”

Suddenly Manda dissolved in tears. She choked out, “Are there any girls my age at meetings?”

Tony reached under the seat for a grimy box of tissues. “Yes, guys, too, but you’ll want to keep your focus on recovery for a while. Stick with the women.” He watched her pull tissues out of the box as if she were planning for a flood of tears. “You go right ahead and cry, honey. You don’t ever have to feel this bad again.”

She let the tears flow while Tony drove seven miles down the lake road and a mile on the gravel access lane to Cady’s Point. He pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed Joel for a cryptic update.

Manda was still blowing her nose when Tony stopped the truck, hopped out and opened the garage door without a key. He disappeared into the first of four bays.

Moments later he gave a shout from the cavernous depth. “Do me a favor, Manda. Open the back of the truck. One bicycle coming up.”

When he emerged with a shiny yellow Georgina Terry custom hybrid, Manda shook her head. “Tony, that’s not mine. It’s Lorraine’s.”

“Lorraine ain’t coming back for it. You like it?”

“It’s great, but—”

“Joel asked me to get it. Let’s not waste time,” he told her. “Where’s your room and your stuff?”

“Around the back, but there’s too much snow and crud to cart stuff from the back door. The best way is through the front.”

“That’s using your head,” he praised, but he was worried. She was trembling all over. He didn’t think it was withdrawal so much as delayed reaction to trauma. He wanted to keep her focused and busy. “Lead the way, Manda,” he said with a comical arm wave toward the front of the house.

Manda walked ahead of him to the limestone portico. She fumbled with her key until Tony took it from her hand. He made short work of the lock, and pushed open the heavy teak door.

“You weren’t kidding,” he breathed when he saw the wreckage. Two chairs lay where they’d been hurled. Vases and glassware were shattered, a table overturned. The place stank of liquor spilled from a bottle used as a weapon.

Tony kicked his way into the room, snapping photos as he went. He spotted what he was looking for on the hearth. When he picked up Manda’s eyeglasses, ground to a mangled mess, he felt in his gut the full force of what she’d gone through in this room the night before.

“I know you were hoping to find these intact,” he said as he turned back to Manda.

She had her arms wrapped around herself, shaking, leaning heavily on the doorframe, her face white, her breathing ragged.

“Come on, honey,” Tony urged. “Look at me, Manda.”

She met his eyes but did not budge.

“The war is over, and we’re walking through this together for the next forty-five minutes.” He beckoned with his right hand. “I need your help, if we’re going to accomplish what we came to do. Now walk toward me.”

She came forward, eyes on him, not daring to look anywhere else. He tucked the mangled glasses in his jacket pocket, reached for her hand, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You show me the way to your room. Let’s be quick.”

While Tony stuffed her clothes and toiletries into a duffle, Manda disconnected her printer and router and laptop. “We’ll take these to the truck and come back for the books. I spotted some boxes in the garage. Let’s move.” It took two trips to collect all of Manda’s books and notebooks. He could see her trembling again, but he knew there was more she wanted to collect. This was their only chance.

As he shoved the box of books onto the truck, Tony suggested, “Let’s take a five-minute break right now. I want you to calm down, use your head, and decide what else you have here that you need. We will have exactly fifteen minutes.” When she didn’t argue, he walked around the truck and lit a cigarette.

Manda sat on a boulder at the edge of the driveway, pulled her knees to her chest, and focused on her breathing. She remembered a long walk she’d taken in the snowy woods before Lorraine left. She thought of the bike rides in the morning, and the evening swims in the lake. It had not always been a nightmare. After a few minutes she felt her heart beating normally again.

She slipped off the boulder and watched Tony stub out the cigarette. She squared her shoulders and told him quietly, “I’m not a thief, and I don’t feel right taking Lorraine’s bike, but I am owed some other things. Lorraine gave me a food budget, but for a year I’ve been paying out of pocket. There are things in the kitchen I can use and towels and sheets in the linen closet near my room.”

Tony looked at his watch and proposed, “We’ll split up. I’ll grab the linens. Two boxes enough for the kitchen?”

While Tony packed up the linens, he heard a car crunch on the gravel drive. From the window, he saw two officers emerge from their cruiser. One was his friend Lou. Tony raised the window, leaned out, and waved them over.

“We’re almost finished here,” he told them. “We want to be out of here by the time Kristof gets back. You’ll want to have a conversation with him and see the state of the living room.” He shook his head, still not believing the scene.

“The chief says Miriam will be talking with the young woman this afternoon,” Lou told him. “She’s a real pro talking with women who’ve been involved in domestic violence and sexual abuse.”

“Good. Manda’s a nice kid. Look, let me finish and get her out of here.”

“Right. We’re continuing to the end of the lane—the usual run—and then coming back here to the house to wait for Kristof. Good seeing you, Tony.”

Manda worked quickly in the kitchen, pulling her most-used cookware, utensils, bake ware, recipes, and spices, her favorite apron, mitts, and towels. She carted her first box out to the truck and hurried back. The second box was for the pantry, which held bags of rice and flour, jars of pepper sauce and green chilies, her favorite chicken stock, Lorraine’s crackers and tea from England that Kristof never touched.

She was halfway across the kitchen with the box when she heard Kristof’s car skidding and spraying up gravel as he swung into the driveway. “Tony!” she screamed. She judged she could not make it through the media room and out the back door ahead of Kristof. “Help me!”

She set down the box and looked for the nearest weapon. The designer bronze teakettle on the six-burner range was heavy with water. Holding it with two hands, she knew she could fling it at Kristof and do damage. Where was Tony?

“Caught you!” Kristof shouted with triumph from the front entry. His eyes shone as he crossed the space to the kitchen; she knew he was high on something.

Manda listened for any sound that would tell her where Tony was. She had to trust he was there for her. She planted her feet and drew in a steadying breath as Kristof entered the kitchen.

He came within range, and she hurled the heavy kettle at his head. He fended it off with his arm but roared with pain. The blow forced him to pause and test his injured arm. He eyed her with hate. “This time you’re dead!”

Manda felt her stomach contract. She took one step back and saw Tony emerge from the media room, gun drawn. He planted himself halfway between Manda and Kristof.

“You’re on video with that threat, professor. I have stills of the living room showing what went on here last night. And the police are on their way back up the lane as we speak. Back off now.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me, Pinelli? You’ll lose your job for discharging a weapon in the line of duty.”

“Not on duty for the college now, Kristof. This young woman’s employer believes she is danger. From you. If you do not cease and desist, I will discharge this weapon where it will do the most good for womankind.”

The two eyed each other, Tony watching for any movement, Kristof eyeing the gun and the direction it was pointing.

In the lengthening silence, neither man gave credence to Manda’s quiet statement, “Thanks, Tony, I’ve got this one.” She brushed past Tony, who watched in fascination as Manda slammed her knee into Kristof’s groin. She stepped back, twisted to the right, moved her left elbow into position, and unwound a cracking blow to Kristof’s temple. The professor dropped without a sound.

Manda grabbed her elbow sucked air through her teeth. “Man, that hurt!” She watched Tony reach toward the body, gun still drawn.

Tony felt for a pulse at Kristof’s neck.

“Did I kill him?”

“No way, but he’ll be out for a good long time.” Tony straightened up and let out a laugh of disbelief. “Wish I had that knee-elbow combo on video. You could inspire next year’s entire freshman class.”

Manda tried to laugh through her tears. She glanced at the front entry and saw spinning red lights. Two burly men walked through the door. Was she losing her mind?

“Not to alarm you, honey, but the police just pulled in.”

Manda felt lightheaded. She tried to listen while Tony explained, “The police are going to have a word with the good professor as soon as he comes to, and you’ll be talking with a policewoman this afternoon about what’s been happening here. She’s absolutely great, and you can say anything to her. We’re all going to walk through this with you, honey.”

Tony caught Manda as she doubled over, and she felt his arms hold her caringly while she threw up her entire breakfast right beside Kristof’s crumpled body.

Chapter 2

Joel’s smartphone roused him from a troubled sleep at two in the morning. “What?” he muttered.

“And a fine good morning to you, too, Nephew.”

“Justin, where are you?”

“Back of beyond. I got your message on my wall.”

“You’re too old to use Facebook. Why don’t you have an email address like everyone else your age?”

“Hey, I return your call, and you complain about my communication habits. What’s up with that? ”

“All right. Let’s start over.” Joel let out a cleansing breath and breathed in another one. “Thanks for getting back to me, Uncle.”

“What can I do for you, Nephew?”

“The college that bears my mother’s name is harboring a predator who’s been beating up on and having his way with one of my employees, and—”

“Not so fast. Is this young woman of age?”

“She’s twenty-two.”

“And is it consensual?”

“No. It’s long-term and coerced.”

“Technically, she was free to walk away?”

“Technically.” Joel’s tone was sour.

“You asked for counsel. I’m trying to point out what others would see in the same circumstances.”

“Neanderthals, maybe. The police are prepared to protect her.”

“I’ve never known you to involve the police.”

“Are you opposed?”

“No. Just surprised. Normally, the college covers up its dirty secrets, and I know that has always bothered you. What’s different about this?”

“Is was the right thing to do.”

“Do you have a thing for the young woman?”

Joel yelled, “He threatened her with loss of her scholarship, and finishing her degree seems to be the only thing she cares about right now, besides getting sober.”

“Ah, so you identify with her as a very young person that needs to get sober?”

“Yes,” he snapped.

“And you have a thing for her?”

Joel threw his pillow across the room. “Beside the point.”

“Not if you act on it,” Justin said sternly. “While she’s a student at your college and particularly while she’s going through whatever ordeal she’s going through, keep your hands off her.”

“I know all that,” Joel said impatiently. “Look I need your counsel about my options here.”

“You have no options for the girl.”

“For the college,” Joel growled.

He laid out the situation with the professor who had been sexually harassing more students than Manda, according to the provost. Three young women had come forward together last week, and Lydia suspected there were more. “I told Lydia I would support any investigation she or the president believed was necessary.”

“This must be a nightmare for them. I’m sure they appreciate your support.”

Joel was quiet too long.

“What am I missing?” Justin prompted.

“For one thing, the professor’s identity.”

“Who is it?”

“Kristof. Lorraine’s ex.”

“Your ex’s ex?” Justin let out a roar of laughter at his own cleverness.

Joel let him have the point without further comment.

“Well, I feel bad for her—Lorraine, that is. When you broke off the engagement, she picked up with this character because he was devastatingly handsome and brilliant—good qualities for the children she desperately wanted to have. Judging by how it’s worked out, she should have had him investigated before she married him. Is she still ‘newly single’?”

“Newly single and living with the children in the UK in a sleepy valley where several college roommates also have estates. She’ll find Mr. Right one of these days. I spoke with her this afternoon, and she confirmed the story. I gave her hell for abandoning her student housekeeper to her lothario husband, and she blew it off.” Joel let out his breath in a pained sigh. “You knew her better than I did.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t make me happy to hear that admission. Watch yourself. She may come back for you now that you’ve made contact with her.”

“Don’t go there,” Joel warned him. “Listen, there’s another matter that is almost certainly unrelated, except it was the beginning of Manda’s trouble with the Kristofs.”

“Manda is your young woman’s name?”

“Yes.” Joel got out of bed and paced while he talked. “Three years ago all of us trustees were convinced by some slick talkers to cut the Presidential Scholars program down to just tuition support. The promised follow-through with the students never happened. When I asked Lydia about it this noon, she went so pale I thought she was having a heart attack.”

“Lydia being the provost?”

“Who I would have sworn was above reproach.”

“Perhaps she is, but she inadvertently received some information and is being bullied into silence.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Did you get out of her what she knows?”

“No, I dropped it for now. I don’t want to be responsible for a stroke or a heart attack.”

“What do you think is going on?”

“I think embezzlement is going on.”

“I agree, that’s what it sounds like.”

“And I can’t believe we were all conned.”

“So your ego is banged up?”

“True.”

“What have you done so far, besides querying Lydia who you thought would have no clue?”

“When I met with the president, I mentioned the Presidential Scholars, and he dismissed it as unimportant. In fairness, he had just been informed about Lydia’s confrontation with Kristof. We agreed the president would quietly launch an investigation relative to Kristof and the students he has used and abused.”

“And Miss Manda’s name will be in the spotlight.”

“Thanks for pointing that out,” Joel said dryly. He leaned his forehead against the cold glass of the French doors to his porch and looked out at the lake.

“Can’t be helped,” Justin said brusquely. “Does she have assets of an academic or business nature that will get her through?”

“She’s exceptionally bright, hard working, and honest. Yes, she’ll weather the storm with AA’s help.”

“So where are we? Working our way up from provost to president to trustees. What have you told the board?”

“At the president’s request, I did not tell them about Kristof, but I did tell them about the mishandling of the Presidential Scholars.”

“And?”

“They are as angry as I am about being duped. They have authorized a quiet but thorough investigation.”

“Good. Who will conduct the board’s investigation?”

“The board secretary with—it is assumed—the full cooperation of the college treasurer. We’ll involve two people from the ethics committee who are above reproach. The board agrees we will ask for a full accounting by the end of the academic year. June thirtieth.”

“Less than four months. Did I hear an ‘or else’ in that statement?”

“That’s where I need your counsel.”

“How are you inclined to complete the ‘or else’?”

“I expect a full accounting with swift and appropriate consequences to those involved, or I will resign from the board and withdraw all financial support from the Tompkins estate. I will further request that the college either close its doors or change its name.”

Justin was quiet, and Joel took the opportunity to get his breathing under control. A full moon played peek-a-boo behind the clouds, and the sight made him smile. It was a full minute before Justin answered, “I support that. I fully support that.”

“Thank you. Tell me your thinking.”

“I think your mother’s ancestors who founded the college were scoundrels, and so are the people who’ve been running the place ever since then. It is both honorable and inconvenient that you are not a scoundrel. Realistically, I think it’s unlikely you will get a full accounting or swift and appropriate consequences for the wrongdoers. Even by the end of the calendar year. Are you prepared to follow through?”

“I don’t know yet. I need to think it through before I make any statement along those lines. The economy is bad enough without putting the whole college out of work.”

“Yes, I agree. And you do realize these investigations may come to the attention of the media?

Joel wished he could float away on the moon. “I do. Scandal has its own way of crippling a college. So my bottom-line question to you: Is there a way to protect those who are not involved, those who are doing a good job for the students and for the college?”

“That’s why we have Unemployment.”

“Be serious.”

“I will give it more thought, but that may be my best answer. And I want your assurance that you will use your head where the young woman is concerned. Until she graduates and until the investigation is finished, you have no business getting involved with her.”

Joel opened his hand and pressed it against the cool glass.

“I know you, Joel. I hear a tone in your voice when you’re speaking about her that I have never heard you use. The kind of thing they write poetry about. I need you to use your brain, Joel, the one in your head.”

Joel sighed deeply. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I wish you were here, wish you were closer and more accessible.”

“I know you need a sounding board, and I know your network is mostly made up of people like me who think in dollar signs, not in terms of people’s needs and the importance of the community.”

“It’s unbelievably valuable to me to have your input and your insight.”

“You’re handling it well, Joel. Personally I wish you didn’t have to deal with the college at all. Part of me wishes you’d resign tomorrow and put your energy into the charitable foundation that I’ve been neglecting right along with you for a decade. Resign the board and let the chips fall where they may. I never liked that place. And I know it’s harder for you because you have a conscience.”

“Don’t kid yourself, so do you have a conscience.”

Justin laughed weakly. “Maybe that’s what I’m running from.”

“Where are you anyway?”

“London, leaving in a few hours for Indonesia.”

“Oil?”

“Oil and other minerals.”

“I need you to be safe. And get an email address, will you? They’re free.”

“Checking in as requested,” Manda stood uneasily at Joel’s office door the next morning. He turned to her, and his eyes lit up. She was glad she’d decided to wear the spa-castoff linen trousers again, paired with a pale gray turtleneck that looked decent tucked in. She stood tall and hoped she wasn’t shaking.

“Good, I was getting hungry.” Joel pressed the intercom, mumbled something into it and ushered her to a small table by the window.

Manda looked out at bare trees and a fountain shut off for the winter.
Why didn’t he have an office overlooking the lake?

Joel sat across from her. “Have you had breakfast?”

She shook her head. “Tony took me for a burger on the way home last evening. I’ll get some groceries this noon so I can fix some meals.”

“What’s the dorm like?”

“It’s a campus apartment for four. There’s just one other girl, a junior, and we each have our own room with a bathroom, plus a little kitchen and a living room.”

He toyed with his pen. “Is she okay?”

Manda shrugged. “I met her for, like, two minutes; she went off to ‘study’; and I was asleep when she got back, which I think was early morning.”

Joel’s nod confirmed he knew more about the situation than she did.

She let it go. “Thank you for giving me a place to lay my weary head for the next eight weeks, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s going to be a while before I can pay anyone back for it.”

Joel gave her his “hawk” look, and she went rigid in her chair, at a loss to know what she’d said wrong.

He broke eye contact, toyed with his pen again, and set it down. “That’s not necessary.”

“Can we talk about this?”

Joel avoided her eyes.

“Joel—Mr. Cushman—”

“Joel.”

“Joel, this is hard to say. When I lived at the Kristof's, I was dependent on them for a place to stay.”

He was looking at her again with those smoky gray-green eyes that she didn’t quite trust.

“It didn’t go well for me. I don’t want to be in that position again.”

She saw a muscle twitch in his jaw.

“Ever. I know three months’ room and board is—”

“Covered. Most colleges have a fund for students in good standing who are confronted with a financial emergency that threatens their ability to continue their studies.”

Manda stayed quiet. Why hadn’t he told her that when she brought it up yesterday?

Joel went on, “The college makes an investment so the student can get on his or her feet and finish the degree.”

What he said sounded plausible to Manda, but she still felt uneasy. She knew if she asked further he would deflect her questions, no matter how she phrased them. She looked him in the eye, opened her mouth, and closed it again.

Joel’s next words made her think he was on her side, if not exactly on her level. “Manda, no one wants a repeat of what happened. I’ll just speak for me. I want you to graduate in May and have a great life. No delays, no more—” he shook his head, “no more worrying about where you’re sleeping or how you’re going to pay for a meal or replace a laptop.”

Manda felt herself tear up. She felt about ten years old. Maybe, like the substance abuse counselor told her, she was just going through emotional withdrawal. Or—what was it?—post-trauma something.