Grey Zone (11 page)

The full implications of what she had just said hit her. ‘I might have been the last person to see her, Mr Grey.' She paused, swallowing the end of her thought. ‘The last to see her alive,' she choked out. ‘I should have gone straight to the cops, I know I should have. But there's so much going on. Chris, Chelowski. And I didn't want to get more involved in this, Mr Grey. I have my own life.'

The silence that followed lasted so long, Dulcie was sure he had gone. She had chased him away with her whining. With her refusal – she nodded as the truth hit home – to take her responsibilities seriously. Did it matter if the girl had dropped her class? Dulcie was a teacher. She was another woman on campus. She had an obligation to help. To get involved. ‘I'm sorry, Mr Grey. I guess I've just let everything get to me. And, well, Suze is hardly ever around any more, and Chris is always busy.' She didn't even want to go into her fears about her boyfriend. Luckily, she didn't have to.

‘
I'm here for you, Dulcie. Never forget that.
'

She breathed a sigh of relief and reached out, once again. Sometimes, if she was lucky, she could still feel the long, silky fur of her late pet.

‘
Teaching is always part of it.
' She felt a passing touch of a damp nose, the brush of a soft muzzle – and then teeth. ‘
There are connections, Dulcie. We touch those we teach. We always touch them. But there are limits. A teacher has responsibilities beyond the text, Dulcie. And with responsibility, there must always be limits.
'

‘But how can I tell—?'

Before Dulcie could finish her question, the door opened, raising a cloud of dust that sent Dulcie into a coughing fit. Lloyd entered, fanning the dust out of his own face, and scrambled over to pat her back.

‘I'm fine, Lloyd,' she managed to choke out. ‘Fine.'

In truth, she was more confused than before. Had Mr Grey been interrupted in the middle of his message, or had he said all he'd meant to say? Sometimes, Dulcie suspected he knew what was about to happen and timed his appearances accordingly. At other times, he seemed to enjoy being enigmatic. Maybe those were the last vestiges of his mortal feline nature. Or was it just that he was so far above her, both as a cat and as a spirit? That final comment about teaching gave her pause.

And raised some other possibilities. As Lloyd retreated to his own desk and Dulcie rummaged through hers for a tissue, questions floated about like dust motes. Had it been Dimitri she'd seen with Carrie under the arch? Had Dimitri been the missing girl's teacher? But what kind of pedagogical interaction would have resulted in the scene she had witnessed?

Could it have anything to do with the section she had dropped – that Dulcie had
let
her drop? No, she tried to reassure herself. That class had been a year ago. Whatever it was that had sparked Monday's confrontation, it was current. Plus, it was more likely something personal, rather than academic. And that, given the cloistered environment of the university, probably meant romantic. There was a history of this kind of thing. Heloise and Abelard. Lloyd and Raleigh. It didn't really matter, she realized, blowing her nose. None of this absolved Dulcie of her responsibilities.

She had a moral obligation to look into this. But how? She looked over at her office mate. He was humming, flipping through yet another blue book, with a pile of about thirty others before him. Clearly, he was better at keeping up with his grading than she was, and she hated to disturb him. Still, he was the logical starting point. Not only might he have some information on who taught what classes, because of his own complicated – and forbidden – relationship, but he might also have other insights as well.

She paused. That wasn't exactly fair. Their situation was different from any that might have pushed Carrie Mines into danger. Raleigh wasn't that much younger than Lloyd, and they had started seeing each other when she was in a different department, which meant the romance had initially been kosher. Still, it was a link. Who knew? Maybe there was a secret fraternity of scholars who were involved with their students.

Dulcie was mulling over this unlikely possibility when her phone rang. ‘Suze!' she answered. ‘Did you learn anything?'

But the caller wasn't her room-mate. ‘I can't believe you ratted out Dimitri to the police.' The voice on the line was furious. And female. ‘And you call yourself a friend and a colleague. You're nothing but a rat, and you know what happens to rats.'

The line went dead, and Dulcie found herself staring at the phone. Whoever had called had blocked the number from being recorded.

FOURTEEN

‘
I
didn't “rat out” anyone.' Dulcie couldn't believe she was defending herself. ‘I went to tell the police what I'd seen. And, yeah, I recognized Dimitri from the photo. But I never said he was the man I'd seen. I don't understand it.'

‘Who uses the phrase “rat out,” anyway?' Trista focused on the etymology.

Lloyd sat opposite Dulcie, his attention rapt. Twenty minutes after the strange call, Dulcie felt angry rather than frightened. But his suggestion that they leave the office for some air and a snack had been welcomed anyway. Trista had seen them on their way into the Square and was now clearing away their empty plates to place another, with three more chocolate chip cookies, on the café table.

‘It sounds like something from one of Dimitri's stupid books,' Trista added. Dulcie couldn't disagree.

‘I think you should call the cops,' Lloyd said. ‘After all, they got you into this.'

‘No.' Dulcie was firm. ‘No way. I don't need any more of this.'

‘Wait, catch me up here?' Trista broke off a piece of one cookie to dunk in her mug. ‘You went to the cops this morning?'

Dulcie went through it all again. The fight on Monday night, the misery of yesterday.

‘Chelowski,' Trista, who had heard some of this, muttered under her breath. She and Lloyd made eye contact and he nodded. Dulcie wished she hadn't seen that.

‘You guys know something about him?' The words stuck in her throat. She didn't need more problems.

‘He's just—' Trista waved a hand in the air. ‘Weird.'

‘Let's be fair,' Lloyd added. ‘He's not likeable, but we all would rather have someone smart and on point than someone who panders, right? He's just sort of competitive with the other departments, that's all.'

Dulcie nodded, remembering his callous comments about Herschoft. ‘Besides, it was a female voice.'

‘Oh, I didn't mean that he—' Trista and Lloyd fell over each other explaining, until Dulcie interrupted.

‘No, you were both just sympathizing with me. I've got the dregs of the department now, I know.' She swallowed again. Hard. ‘Actually, Lloyd, I didn't even tell you the worst.'

The look of horror on both their faces made her sorry for her phrasing.

‘No, it's not that bad. It's just that he thinks I'm on a wild goose chase. He thinks I'm
malingering
.'

To her surprise, neither rushed to disagree.

‘What?' She looked from one to the other.

‘I've been thinking about it.' Trista shrugged, as if to soften her words. ‘And you have been getting a little off topic. You've got some great stuff with the text, but then you get into that whole disappearing-author thing.'

‘Great.' Suddenly her coffee tasted bitter, and Dulcie pushed her mug into the plate of cookies.

‘Hang on a minute here.' Lloyd, the peacemaker, centered the plate. ‘We all have the right to complain about our thesis advisers. I mean, I lost Bullock, too, when he retired, and it could have been me, stuck with ol' Norm.'

Dulcie nodded and reached for a cookie. ‘But you think he's right?' She broke the cookie, not wanting to look up at her friends.

‘Honestly, Dulce? I don't know.' Trista answered for them both. ‘It is kind of scary to think about finishing, about going out into the world.'

‘But you've got Jerry.' Dulcie looked at her friend and waited. There had to be a reason she hadn't come to the pub with Jerry the week before. ‘Tris, is everything all right with you?'

‘Yeah.' She made a face that moved all three of her piercings at once. ‘Men, you know. Sorry, Lloyd.'

He shrugged, and Dulcie turned back toward her friend.

‘But Jerry's a sweetheart.' Silence. ‘I mean, I know both he and Chris have been really busy recently, but . . .' She let the sentence hang, open and inviting. Trista didn't respond, and Dulcie suddenly didn't want to know more.

‘Kids? Shouldn't we stay on point here?' Lloyd was trying again. ‘Dulcie was acting like a responsible member of the community. She's had a horrible experience already, and now someone has scared her with a nasty phone call.'

‘I don't know if I was scared, per se.' Dulcie was loath to admit how much the anonymous caller had shaken her.

‘You were freaked out. I saw you.' Lloyd looked to her for confirmation. ‘OK, at the very least, it was harassment.'

‘Maybe it was the Harvard Harasser?' Trista didn't look that engaged, but Dulcie was willing to make peace.

‘It was a woman, a girl.' Of that, she was sure. ‘And it was specifically about Dimitri. That I had “ratted him out.” But I hadn't. I mean, I identified him. But they already knew who he was. And it wasn't like I said he was the man I'd seen arguing with Carrie. If it weren't for the cops and now this call, I wouldn't have any reason at all to connect Dimitri to that girl.' Dulcie moved the cookie plate toward Trista. ‘I mean, does anyone know if they were dating or anything?'

Lloyd shook his head, and Trista shrugged. ‘Relationships. Who knows? They're complicated.' For a moment all three were quiet. Finally, after breaking apart the last cookie, Trista started talking again. ‘Anyway, Dimitri can take care of himself. The person I want to know more about is that missing girl.'

‘Well, I had her in my English 10 section last year, but she dropped out.' Dulcie tried to ignore how those words made her feel. ‘But I don't remember, I don't know
why
.' This wasn't any better than talking about relationships. She swallowed. That last bit of cookie had been too dry. ‘I don't think I asked.'

Trista shook her head while she chewed. ‘I remember,' she said at last, unfazed by the sweet's consistency. ‘I was helping with the scheduling last year, you know, when everything was being rejiggered.'

Dulcie waited with a growing sense of dread.

‘She didn't drop the course, though. Only your section. She claimed she had some conflict. Some other prof wanted her to work in his lab every morning or something.' Trista took another piece of cookie, then slid the plate back across the table. ‘To be honest, it seemed fishy at the time, but I figured she just wanted to sleep in on Monday mornings. At any rate, I remember slotting her into an afternoon section. Dimitri's.'

Suddenly, the rest of the cookie didn't look so appetizing. ‘So, she was in Dimitri's section last year.' Lloyd spelled it out. ‘But so were, like, two dozen other freshmen.'

Trista shrugged. ‘I know, but, well, you asked.'

The friends sat in silence for a moment, and Dulcie found herself relaxing. The vague feeling of nausea she'd had since the phone call was fading to the point where the idea of one more chocolate chip began to appeal. By that point, however, Tris had pretty much denuded the remaining cookie of its chips, leaving Dulcie to wonder how her blonde friend remained so slim.

‘Yeah, I did.' She fingered the remaining crumbs. ‘So, do you think there was anything going on? I mean, was she trying to get into Dimitri's section?' Students changed classes for any number of reasons. Later hours were a common one, but Dulcie and Trista both had had experience with students having crushes on them – or on fellow students. Sometimes it seemed that the entire undergraduate student body was running on hormones. ‘Or be with someone else in that section?'

Trista bit her lip. ‘I don't think so,' she said after a moment's pause. ‘I don't remember really well what happened, but I don't think she was eager to transfer
to
another section, if that made sense. There was something off about the whole thing, like maybe she was trying to avoid talking about something.' She looked across the table, a guilty look on her wide-set blue eyes. ‘To be completely frank, I do remember wondering if she was trying to avoid
you
, Dulcie.'

‘Great.' That last bit of cookie sat in her belly like lead. ‘Just great.'

‘So, to bring it back around.' Lloyd turned in his seat to focus on Dulcie. ‘I know you didn't identify the man in the passageway as Dimitri. But maybe someone else saw them together that night. Maybe Dimitri
has
done something.'

Trista looked up. ‘Maybe Dimitri is the Harvard Harasser.'

Lloyd and Dulcie turned toward her, but neither could think of anything to say.

FIFTEEN

‘
I
could be totally wrong, Tris. It could all have been nothing.' Trista and Dulcie were gathering their coats and bags to go. Lloyd had already taken off. They all had papers to grade. ‘I mean, it was one phone call. An anonymous phone call. A prank.'

Trista looked at her. By this point, she didn't have to say anything.

‘I know,' Dulcie admitted. ‘And I know I should go back to the police. I just hate the idea of digging Dimitri in any deeper, when I can't be sure.'

‘You can be sure about one thing.' Trista checked her phone. ‘Things are getting worse with the Harvard Harasser. I just got a text: somebody slashed some poor girl's coat to ribbons in the Union cloakroom.'

‘Creepy.' Dulcie shivered. ‘Suze keeps warning me about that. Says that things like this can escalate.' Neither of them repeated what Trista had said. That it might be Dimitri who was responsible.