Chapter 13

"I'm not going to ask Missy to be the bait," I stated flatly.

What followed was me against all of them. Well, almost all of them. Mom was brooding, and the lady from CPS was caught on the horns of a dilemma -- me or Missy -- an impossible choice for her.

I've always wondered, what does a dilemma look like? Like some sort of a cow or bull, with long twisty horns? It certainly must be uncomfortable to be on the horns of, judging by her expression.

Anyway, in the end, outnumbered and worn down, I went to the phone and called Missy. After apologizing for it being so late, I asked her to come over and to bring her parents. Amazingly, she somehow got her mom to the phone, and my mom convinced her mom it was really important without telling her why.

"I am not going to ask Missy to be the bait," I repeated flatly to the others around the table while we waited. "She is my friend. I know her. It is not a good idea, and I will not ask her."

At the same time I was comforting myself with the thought that her parents, especially her mom, would never agree to it anyway. If my mom was a bear protecting her cub, Missy's mom was a Bengal tiger. After Missy's near rape in middle school -- granted it was her own fault -- Mrs. Wilson was more protective than ever.

"Let's table that for a minute," the Assistant DA suggested calmly. "How are we going to gather the evidence we need? We can't exactly put a wire on a naked teenage girl."

"Bug the little shit's office," the top cop suggested.

The Assistant DA shook her head. "Not without a warrant, and without a name behind a credible complaint, no judge in town will issue one. Not enough probable cause."

She looked at me, and I knew she wanted me to put a name to my source, and I met her look with one of my own. She could see that wasn't going to happen and looked away. Mrs. Devers and Mom knew, I'd had to tell them, but I'd sworn them to silence. It hadn't been hard. They'd agreed Peggy had to be kept out of it.

"How about the intercom," Mrs. Devers suggested. Jeez her eyes were cold -- icicles would be warmer!

That got everyone's attention.

"What intercom?" the ADA asked.

"The school's. Every office and classroom is connected. From the office we can use it to hear what's going on in any classroom. It's part of the security system. As a rule we don't eavesdrop, but if there's an emergency or some kind of disruption we can."

"I'd say this qualifies as an emergency," the younger cop observed wryly.

I liked her. She was petite but muscular, a compact, busty Hispanic. Her black hair was in a pixie cut that framed her face nicely and revealed very tasty looking ears decorated with piercings, a tiny diamond glittering on one nostril. She looked real good in her undercover outfit -- short skirt, tight top -- more "young and available" than "hooker at work," though I bet she could pull off that just as easily. I couldn't help wondering how she'd look in her uniform -- and out of it. She kept looking at me in a way that made me tingle in spite of the circumstances.

God, sometimes I think I'm a total slut. But at this point I welcomed the distraction. I felt like the little Dutch girl with her finger in the dike -- or should that be dyke?

Don't I wish!

"Sounds like it might work," the ADA answered. "I presume all faculty and staff are aware of the function..."

"They know we can turn it on to listen at our end if we have any reason to suspect a problem, or simply to avoid an awkward interruption if we need to contact them while class is in session," Mrs. Devers explained.

"So there's no expectation of privacy," the ADA said thoughtfully. "Can you record what you're hearing?"

Mrs. Devers nodded. "If I'd known what that ... had been up to I would have already used it and we wouldn't be going through this nightmare."

I gave her a sympathetic look, feeling the same way. On Friday, when I should have been protecting Peggy, I'd been frolicking with Greg and Kathy in the art studio. If just one student victim had said something...

Shit.

The doorbell rang and I ran to get it. Missy looked nervous, her parents worried. "You guys introduce yourselves," I told Missy's parents, pointing them to the dining room. "I need to talk to Missy."

"What's going on? What's happening? Who're all those people?" Missy asked as I hauled her up to my room and shut the door, ignoring the same questions from her parents. Let Mom handle them, I thought.

"Two of them are cops, one's an Assistant DA and one is from Child Protective Services. It's a war council. We're getting ready to take Worthington down."

I was as keyed up as I could get, wishing Missy were anywhere but here.

"What? 'Take him down?' What does that mean? Does this have something to do with Peggy? I heard you were going to see her. Is she okay?"

I shushed her. "Don't even mention her name! I can't tell you why, but if the cops down there..."

"Cops?" She squeaked.

"I told you, two of the people in my dining room are plainclothes cops, the big guy and the sexy looking girl. The other two women -- the ones in suits -- one of them is an Assistant District Attorney and the other is from Child Protective Services. Worthington is a pedophile. Why do you think I told you not to go to him alone?"

I may give the impression that Missy isn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but that's not the case. She's just still sweet and naive, in spite of all the trouble she got into in middle school. It's what got her in trouble there in the first place and she really hasn't changed. I still have to explain dirty jokes to her.

Her sweet mouth went O, and she turned pale when she realized what she might have walked into. "And Peggy... ?"

"Was his victim last Friday. You don't want to know the details. I wish I didn't," I added sadly. "This is all under a double-triple-cross-my-heart promise of silence, everything I'm telling you. Don't breathe a word of this to anybody, ever! Promise?"

She looked stoned, but crossed her heart three times, nodding. "I triple-cross-my-heart promise."

"The thing is, if the cops or the ADA get her name they'll want her to file a complaint, and that would wreck her. The cops want to know where I got my information and I won't tell them, and you must NOT let her name slip out, not even her first name. As far as you know nothing happened and Peggy was out sick because of a stomach bug. Clear?"

"Ooookay. But why are we here?"

Shit, I wished I had more time! "They want to set up a 'sting' and trap Worthington, and they're thinking you should be the bait, since he's targeting young naked-in-school participants and you're in The Program this week."

I thought she was going to faint. Deer in the headlights didn't begin to cover it.

"I've told them it's a bad idea, and I won't go along with it," I went on, talking fast as I heard Mom calling us. "Devers agrees with me. I'm hoping your mom won't let them use you that way. I've told them I'm willing to be the goat. Hell, I want to do it! I want to personally hang that bastard. Now come on. The less you say the better. In fact, the only thing you have to remember is the word 'no.' Repeat it after me."

"No?" she said cautiously.

"That is the only word in your vocabulary until you leave this house."

Mom banged on my door. "Dee, we need you and Missy. Now!"

"Got that?" I asked Missy as I opened the door. She nodded numbly, and all I could do was cross my fingers. The thought of her in Worthington's clutches made me want to throw up.

"What were you doing up there?" Mom asked suspiciously.

"Bringing Missy up to speed," I answered truthfully as we trailed her down the stairs.

You would have thought it was the entrance of the Queen of England or something when we showed up in the doorway. All eyes fastened on me and Missy as Mom went to her chair. Three chairs had been brought in, making nine seats around a table that barely holds six. Missy and I were relegated to the cheap seats at diagonally opposite corners. I figured the arrangement wasn't by accident and I didn't like it. I wanted to be next to Missy to provide support. Taking matters into my own hands I rounded the table and whispered in the ear of the young cop -- excuse me, the police lady -- at Missy's right.

I liked the lady's scent. If it was perfume it was very subtle. If it was just her -- yum!

Miss Tits kindly yielded her seat to me and moved down by Mom so I could be on one side of Missy, her mom on the other. My mom pursed her lips and frowned, as did the ADA and the senior cop. CPS barely cocked her head. Mrs. Devers showed just a hint of a smile that said I'd scored one for the good guys. My hand found Missy's under the table.

The ADA cleared her throat and started to speak, but I interrupted. "I'm sorry, I was upstairs taking time to clue Missy into the basic situation regarding Mr. Worthington, so she wasn't here for introductions. Missy, the lady in the blue suit about to speak is Martha Graham from the District Attorney's office. The nice lady in gray is from Child Protective Services, Georgia Swain. Is that right, Ms. Swain?"

She nodded.

"The big guy at the head of the table, trying to look like a civilian, is Police Detective Sergeant Michael Kelly -- I hope I'm getting this right -- while the young woman next to my mom is Detective Maria Sanchez. I believe you know the rest of us.

"Now, you were about to say, Ms. Graham?"

Martha G. frowned, totally thrown off her stride.

Gosh, I thought, how did that happen?

"We've -- uh -- got a problem with -- uhm -- The Program Coordinator, Mr. Worthington, as you presumably already know," she stammered. "We're hoping you'll be able to help us out."

Missy's mom looked like she'd taken a bite out of a sour apple and found half a worm. Her dad looked like an overcast sky about to stick out a funnel cloud to suck Kansas dry. That was good to see. He's pretty easy going, a conciliator, but I'd figured he'd be on my side, too, rather than see his daughter endangered.

I wondered why the ADA wanted to proceed with this farce. Maybe she needed to save face, or at least try to lure Missy in.

"We need to catch Mr. Worthington in the act," Ms. Graham plowed on, a farmer trying to get the crop in before Mr. Wilson blew off the topsoil, or his wife unlimbered the flame thrower and left the ADA with nothing but scorched earth, to mangle a metaphor.

Missy's parents were the only two who really mattered. Missy was a minor. No way could she be sucked into this without her parents' approval. With them united against it the door was nailed shut and it was all over but the shouting. There might be a lot of that, but I hoped not.

Missy proceeded to try to crush my hand under the table, but I didn't dare risk a look at her expression.

"He's preying on young ladies in The Program, but he hasn't approached you yet, Miss Wilson. We think you're the right person to get the goods on him. You'll be in no danger..."

"No!" Missy's mom interrupted the ADA. "That's not true, and you know it. I won't let you use my daughter as bait. After the horrible situation she went through last year I'm not about to let you pimp her out like some whore to catch that beast. Let Dee do it. She's got lots of experience as a slut! She was the one running around the park like a bitch in heat last Sunday."

Ouch!

I thought Mom was going to jump down the table and throttle Mrs. Wilson, but cooler heads prevailed and Missy's mom reluctantly apologized.

Missy gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze. I squeezed my thanks back and held my tongue. My relationship with Missy's mom over the past year or two had been up and down like an elevator, but I knew where she was coming from on this one -- not that it didn't hurt.

Besides, she was right about me. I'd been brought up in a rather liberated, single-mom household, with an older brother who I'd watched go through The Program. More than once I'd watched him bang the shit out of his girlfriend. I'd learned a lot about love and sex from them both. Besides, she was right, that had been me in the park making an ass -- or rather a bitch -- of myself.

While Missy wasn't a virgin, she certainly did not have the wide experience I did in matters erotic.

Still angry, Mom was obviously seeing the handwriting on the wall. I felt terrible for her -- here I was, striking terror into her heart yet again.

In the end, after more useless verbal sparring, Missy was off the hook and I was on it, to be dangled in front of Worthington. I'd do whatever it took to make sure he took the bait so he'd be yanked out of his slimy swamp to be gutted, cleaned, filleted and thrown into the frying pan.

Interestingly, the point that finally penetrated to Ms. Graham was the fact that Missy was fourteen years old while I was still only thirteen -- much to the amazement of those not already in the know. Apparently the law offered more severe penalties for sexually violating a thirteen year old than a girl of Missy's advanced years. That gave Ms. Graham a lifeline to grab onto, I guess.

Never mind that I felt about a century older than Missy.

As the Wilsons left I whispered to Missy that I'd welcome her in my bed that night or any night, but she politely declined, as I'd expected. Her mom would never have allowed it anyway.

With them gone I moved back down to sit with Mom and we got down to the nitty-gritty of making a detailed plan. Stumbling block number one was coming up with a plausible reason for me to be shoe-horned into The Program on short notice.

"How about I'm being punished," I suggested. "Something like when Catholics sin, they have to do something -- what is it called?"

"Do penance," Mom suggested distractedly.

"You could be doing penance for bringing disrepute on The Program with your frolic in the park," Mrs. Devers picked up deftly. "For that I could assign you to The Program for the rest of this week and all of next week. We can claim 'disciplinary reasons' to explain why you're naked in school again."

Everyone but Mom looked satisfied with that solution. Mrs. Swain was resigned, I guess.

Me? Was I looking forward to being back in my good old briar patch again? You betcha! Worthington might think he's dragging me into his parlor, but in this case I'll be the spider. Once I got my fangs in him he'd be my lunch.

ADA Graham tried to regain control of the proceedings. "Dee, you'll have to carry this off as if it is SOP."

"SOP?" I asked.

"Standard Operating Procedure," she explained patiently, treading carefully around me. I'd thrown her for a loop at the opening of the meeting and she wasn't going to underestimate me again. That was fine with me. I respected her, especially for her legal expertise, but wasn't about to let her forget that it was literally my ass that was going to be on the line.

"You don't deviate from the normal routine," Mrs. Devers agreed, "except for the fact that you'll be called to the office and stripped first thing tomorrow morning. From there everything proceeds as usual. Just go through your normal day, until..."