Tattered Tiara (The Bancrofts: Book 2) Read online

He made a mental note to revise the school's dress code by the end of the day. When had the system gotten so slack that this kind of dressing for students was even acceptable? He would enforce a zero tolerance for dressing like how this young lady was dressed.

  He instantly believed her about Micah. The girl looked like she was practically asking for it. Then he reminded himself that that was no excuse for forcing a woman to have sex.

  "So what you are telling me, Deidra, is that you went to look for my son up in that god forsaken hide hole he lives in and he pounced on you like a starving animal?"

  "Yes," Deidra said meekly. "I carried him some Sunday dinner that I prepared with my own two hands."

  Bancroft looked at her long French manicured nails and shuddered to think of all the germs lurking under their pristine finish. Somehow, he couldn't imagine Deidra Durkheim cooking.

  "And I knocked on his door," she said breathlessly a little hitch in her voice as if she wanted to cry. "It was raining and chilly. I was in my long sleeved furry sweater and a really slack jeans and Micah came out of the house almost naked. Before I could say why I was there, he jerked me into his dark hallway and started kissing me."

  She closed her eyes as if in painful recollection.

  "At first, I was happy that he was happy to see me but he started getting rough, saying how much he wanted me and was happy that we were engaged. Then he dragged me to his bedroom," she swallowed, "and he raped me."

  Her long eyelashes covered her eyes in a perfect feathery half circle.

  Bancroft hit the desk in anger. "I can't believe this! I am not even officially president and Micah Bancroft is jeopardizing it for me. I am sure that the chairman of the board of trustees will leap on this as a reason not to select me for the presidency."

  He shook his head in consternation. "I am so sorry Deidra," he said sympathetically, "I thought Celeste and I raised the boy better. I am going to have to do something about this."

  Deidra said quickly, "Dr. Bancroft, I am willing to forget the whole thing if he is..." She cleared her throat. "It would be even better if we hastened the wedding, you know... " Her hands fluttered nervously. " Just in case there is a little one on the way."

  Bancroft closed his eyes as if he was praying. He tapped his fingers on the desk. His mind was racing. Micah and this girl getting married was the easy way out. This would not affect his chances at the presidency since the girl was willing to get married and forget the whole rape issue.

  He opened his eyes and looked at Deidra. "I am going to talk to him. There will be a wedding in the near future, if Micah has any sense. In the meantime, could you not tell anyone about this?"

  "Oh no, I won't." Deidra shook her head. "I definitely won't."

  ***

  Micah usually ignored internal calls to his office from his father, especially in the morning. He groaned when he saw the number for the president's office flashing on the phone's display. After his confrontation with Deidra, he had arrived at the dinner yesterday quite late and had gotten a proper dressing down from his father for his tardiness.

  Taj, the guest of honor, had been ensconced in a chair by the fireplace with family albums heaped on top of his lap.

  Everyone had seemed pleased to see him but he had looked a little overwhelmed. When Micah arrived, his face had lit up.

  Micah had grinned back at him in sympathy. He felt that same feeling of being overwhelmed when he was with his family. He made a mental note to go and hang out with Taj some time in the week. He was possibly the only person in his family that he liked and felt a sense of kinship with, well, except for his mother.

  He delved into the stack of mail on his desk and turned down the volume of the desk phone, occasionally glancing at it to make sure that he wasn't ignoring anybody else's call.

  The business center on the school campus had dual roles. He was expected to assign business students to various roles so that they could get hands-on experience working at different jobs in the center. He was also expected to make sure that the physical needs of students and faculty were met.

  The place had every business imaginable to cater to the school's population and some members of the public. It was long tedious work. Added to that, the business center had to be profitable or he would be in trouble.

  As manager of the business center, he reported to the Financial Controller but the president had a keen interest in his work, mainly because Micah was his son, and he expected him to fail somehow.

  Micah closed his eyes briefly and wished that D.M. Carter would find another candidate who could beat his father for the presidency. Then he'd have a little more peace of mind and be free of his father's micromanagement.

  "I have been calling your phone for the past hour," his father stood at the doorway of the office and said belligerently. "We have a problem."

  Micah looked at him, surprised. It must be a huge problem for his father to even set foot inside his office. He couldn't recall him ever doing so and he sat up in alarm.

  "Is something wrong with Mom?"

  "No," Bancroft gritted out and closed the door, coming into the middle of the room. "Something is wrong with you! How can you rape your own fiancée and then have the gall to look at me with innocence, asking if something is wrong!"

  Micah gripped the edge of his desk and watched as his father paced the office. Bancroft almost stubbed his toe on a shipment of toothpaste that Micah had been storing in his office until he could get it down to the supermarket storage area.

  He felt like laughing at the accusation because he realized that Deidra had really gotten his father in a tizzy.

  "Is Deidra claiming that I raped her?" Micah asked calmly.

  Bancroft glared at him. "Are you claiming that you didn't?"

  "I have never touched Deidra inappropriately," Micah swiveled in his chair, "and I have no intention to."

  "She says she will forgive you for the whole rape fiasco if you marry her sooner rather than later." Bancroft delivered with gritted teeth. No matter how he tried, Micah always seemed to rub him the wrong way. It was as if this child of his was born for adversity.

  Micah looked at Bancroft coolly. "I am not surprised that you just took her word for it, but I am not going to marry that spoilt brat, no matter how pretty she is or what she thinks she is entitled to."

  Bancroft suddenly sat down in the chair that was in front of the desk. "You do realize that rape is a serious charge, don't you?"

  "Her word against mine," Micah said affronted. "What did she tell you?"

  Bancroft told him and Micah exclaimed in defense.

  "She came to my house naked as the day she was born, proclaiming that she wanted me. I didn't even let her in!"

  Bancroft tilted his head. "If what you say is true, then we have an issue. Deidra doesn't seem as if she is about to let you go and Edward Durkheim is a serious man. She's his only child. You, my dear son, will be in trouble when she runs crying to Daddy. If she decides to publish this to all and sundry then your name will be trampled in the mud."

  Micah hissed his teeth. "I don't care!"

  "Your name ends with Bancroft," his father hissed, "which means I will be tainted in this mess. The selection of president is a month away. Can't you keep this girl quiet until then?"

  "Ah," Micah grinned. "So it's really all about you, isn't it?"

  "Micah," Bancroft growled, "I don't ask you for much, do I?"

  "What?" Micah said enjoying their little tête-à-tête. "You are the bane to my existence. You are the...hold on," he said in mid recital. "If I go through with this charade to save your precious presidency, will you lay off me and allow me to live my life in peace?"

  "I don't interfere in your life!" Bancroft exclaimed loudly. "You just need guidance a bit more than most."

  "Oh no, old man! You have to promise me," Micah said solemnly. "I pretend like I am going to marry the little spoiled rich girl and when you get your precious presidency, you stop policing my every move. Which means, no early mo
rning cussing about my running of the business center…no micro managing my life, my dress taste, and my friends."

  Bancroft looked at his son. He wanted to rebut but what Micah said was true. Micah had always been different and he did try to change him to be a more respectable version of himself. The problem, as he saw it, was if he said left, Micah would go right.

  Micah was unconventional and thought outside of the box and he Bancroft had always tried to hold him down and pigeonhole him into what he thought he should be.

  He stared in the defiant eyes of his son and heaved a sigh.

  "Okay, I will not bother you about any of your decisions. Though I think they are zany and off the wall. I still think you dress unprofessionally and your fascination with growing things and that old haunted house you live in is..." his voice trailed off.

  Micah was looking at him smugly.

  "Okay that was the last time." He got up. "Let me not hear about anymore of this rape business, Micah."

  "Yes Sir," Micah said nodding. "I am going to appear to give Deidra Durkheim what she wants…me. I will hold out for a month, but after that she has to hit the road."

  Bancroft grunted and left the office.

  Micah leaned back in his chair. He was going to have to pretend, once more, to be Deidra's fiancé. He envisioned himself trying to dodge her for the next four weeks. He wasn't even angry with her about the hatched up rape story. Deidra was willful and spoilt and obviously was quite determined to marry him. He contemplated a way to get Deidra to change her ways.

  Chapter Three

  Natasha Rowe was glancing, with skepticism, at the mountain of paperwork on Assistant Superintendent Coley's desk. He had called her into his office and asked her to explain to him why a detective of her caliber was sent to his station, which rarely saw action.

  His gray unshaved whiskers were sticking up all over his wizened little face. He contemplated her seriously. His eyes fastened on her like he wanted to see inside her head.

  Natasha fidgeted under his stare, unsure of how to proceed. She had been at the station for a week now and had felt the first chafing of inactivity. She was happy that she could get to see Taj, her boyfriend, everyday after work but she was seriously feeling underemployed. She figured that was what Superintendent Greyson had anticipated and she again cursed him in her mind.

  Natasha wasn't sure what to tell the Assistant Supe. One had to tread carefully with the lines of communication in the Jamaica Constabulary Force. She was out of direct command with Greyson but since this station was still in Area Three, and under his command. Essentially, he was still her boss.

  The report she and Harry had prepared about the case of the dead Mount Faith President was yet to be responded to by the Commissioner of Police. Until then, one had to be wise.

  "Sir," I am not sure why Superintendent Greyson felt the need to send me here."

  The Assistant Supe shook his head and said to her softly. "I know you can't speak frankly. I just want to know one thing. Was it your fault…something you did?"

  "No." Natasha frowned. "I did my job just as asked and then I was transferred here. My former partner, Harry Campbell, was also transferred, but to the Mandeville station."

  Coley nodded as if he was satisfied with her answer. "Superintendent Greyson is gone on forced leave."

  Natasha gasped. "He is? How strange!"

  "You know something!" Coley said. "Stop pretending. The Commissioner himself called this morning. He is of the opinion that you were unfairly transferred. He is asking me to send you back. Apparently, you are very much needed in the thick of things down in Santa Cruz."

  Natasha's heart jolted. She had honestly believed that Greyson would have gotten away with his underhanded handling of her and Harry. Apparently, he was not going to get away that easily. She rejoiced in glee at that, but then thought about her time in the Mount Faith community. It was not so bad and she had gotten even closer to Taj.

  "But," Colely said to her firmly, "I told the commissioner that we want you up here for now."

  He passed a file over to Natasha.

  "We have a problem and I don't want it to escalate. This morning, a young lady filed a report. Her name is..." He ran his eyes over the paper, "Penelope Harris."

  He finally deciphered the writing. "She was raped on the campus of Mount Faith University. I was made to understand that you were recently on campus working on a case?"

  Natasha nodded. "I was."

  "And that you were posing as a student?"

  "That's right."

  "Well, I urge you to continue. I am assigning Tony Beaker to you as your junior partner. He is new to the whole investigating business…just graduated from the accelerated investigative program at the academy. You can teach him a thing or two."

  Natasha nodded. "Sounds good…so we will both be posing as students?"

  "Yes," Coley said. "Please get to the bottom of the case and stop these perpetrators before they strike again. We have a low crime rate in these hills and I would like to keep it that way."

  ***

  Natasha left the office with the thin folder. Somebody had scribbled down the basics of Penelope Harris' report. She had reported the rape five days after it happened, so there was no rape kit. Usually this would mean an almost impossible case to crack but the fact that she was a student at Mount Faith and was raped on the campus could mean that there was a pattern developing. Maybe more women were raped but hadn't reported it.

  Natasha inhaled with anticipation. At last, real investigative work to do, she thought. She headed for the cubbyhole that was her office. It had a desk that she could barely squeeze around, a basic filing cabinet, a phone, and a computer.

  A young man was sitting at her desk with his leg crossed. He had a light complexion, closely cropped hair and big intelligent brown eyes that followed her as she walked around to her seat.

  "May I help you?"

  "Yes Inspector Ma'am," he said nervously. "I was...er...told...ordered...to be your partner on a case."

  Oh Lord, Natasha thought silently, a nervous green rookie. Was she ever like that? She suddenly missed her ex-partner, Harry.

  " I guess you are Tony Beaker?"

  "Yes Inspector. I am Sergeant Tony Beaker."

  "No need for the titles, Tony," Natasha said impatiently. "I hardly remember that my last promotion was to Inspector. Besides, back where I am coming from nobody uses it really."

  Tony looked at her wide-eyed.

  "Stop looking at me like that," Natasha said she was becoming exasperated with him. "I do not stand on ceremony and we have a rape case to discuss."

  Tony cleared his throat. "Sorry ma'am, I mean Natasha. This is my first real assignment since graduation."

  Natasha nodded. "I can see that. Let's discuss strategy since we are supposed to be undercover at Mount Faith University."

  Tony flexed his neck. "I did an Associate Degree in Computer Sciences over there. I know the place quite well."

  "Good," Natasha said. " This report is barely discernible. We need to interview Penelope for ourselves…based on her response, we go from there."

  "Wouldn't it also be best to tell the university president that we are on campus and what we are about?" Tony asked. "Besides, I need a student pass. Mine expired three years ago."

  Natasha nodded. "Good thinking. Let's go talk to Penelope first and then Dr. Bancroft."

  Tony got up and she realized that he was taller and more muscular than she had first thought.

  "Know any self defense moves?" Natasha asked as they were heading out.

  "A little," Tony said. "They had a course at the academy."

  Natasha mulled over that thought. "It may come in handy."

  ***

  Penelope Harris had fourth period Calculus. She came out of the lecture room looking annoyed and nervous. Natasha and Tony greeted her and followed her to the student lounge building where they could talk in relative privacy. Natasha spotted the corner where she and Harry had spent
time discussing the previous case and headed straight for the table beside the potted palms.

  "Sorry to spring this interview on you so suddenly, especially after your Calculus class," Natasha said to Penelope, "but Tony and I are assigned to your case and we need to know more about what happened."

  Penelope sat down at the table slowly. "It was five nights ago. I was leaving the music building after orchestra practice." Her voice lowered. "I was held from behind with a hand covering my mouth."

  "The music building?" Natasha asked. "That's the North side of the campus, right?"

  Penelope nodded. "There is even a security post a few yards from there. I didn't even get the chance to scream. I was dragged from the Music Building parking lot over into the ornamental garden. It was a fairly dark spot and I was raped."

  Her voice cracked. "He used a condom and he laughed when he was done. He called me a high-handed bitch that needed to be taught a lesson."

  "What did his voice sound like?" Tony asked.

  "Kind of gravelly and hoarse but he was talking low," Penelope said. "He sounded like somebody who had shouted a lot and whose vocal chords were tired."

  Penelope's hands were trembling and she looked at Natasha, a scared look in her eye. "I am scared, you know."

  Natasha nodded.

  "I walk around the campus and I think that it could be anyone. Every day I look around and I wonder, could it be that guy, or that guy?" She hugged her jacket tighter around her.

  Natasha looked at her sympathetically. "Penelope, you said that you didn't see a thing because you were blind folded. Could you smell anything? Feel anything? Touch anything? I am sorry to bring this up again but even the tiniest of details could be helpful."

  Penelope swallowed. "His breath smelled like bubblegum." She sighed. "Juicy Fruit. I eat them. Now I can't stand the scent of it."

  "Was he wearing gloves when he assaulted you?" Tony Beaker asked softly.

  Penelope shook her head. "No he wasn't. His hands felt rough though, almost calloused."