Chapter 15 Extra Credit #3
“I can bring you to my house for the weekend if you’d like he says cautiously. You’ll have to put up with overweight cat.”
“What kind?”
“Maine Coon. He’s right at twenty-eight pounds,” Keith laughs. “His name is Frank.”
“That’s adorable. I’m going to make him be my friend,” I say and Keith smiles.
“He doesn’t interact with basically anyone by me, but you can certainly try.”
“Good. I could use a new one,” I say quietly, letting my eyes drop to my lap.
“Do you know who did this to you?” he asks after a second.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I think so… I just have no way to prove it.”
“They did the exam. That might…” he starts to say.
“Keith… they all wore a condom. I never saw them. I never heard them. Clearly no one gave a fuck enough to help when I was screaming for help for God knows how long,” I say.
“I just need to get used to the fact that I, like maybe others who have been raped, will never get justice… I also only think I know one. I don’t know who else. ”
The door comes open and a woman in a pantsuit comes in the room. “Rebekah Martinelli?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
“I am Detective Abigail Parham. I work in the sex crimes division. I want to ask, first, how are you doing? I’ve talked to the nurse who did the exam, but I’d rather hear details from you,” she says.
“Uhm… she said that I don’t have any major injuries and bleeding I have is minimal. I am covered in bruises, but she said you’d get the pictures they took so I guess I don’t need to explain that,” I say. “Apparently, I’m lucky, or whatever. Happy fucking birthday to me.”
“Today is your birthday?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Well, not now. It was when I was gang raped in a park.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” she asks. I explain the details from the time I left the bar until Keith called the police. A lot of it is hard for me to say out loud but in the same way it feels like I’m talking about someone else.
“Had you been drinking?” she asks, taking notes.
“Does that matter?” I snap
“Not to me,” she says. “I ask because should this go to court, it will come up.”
“I had a drink with my roommate and her people. I was supposed to have a shot with her before leaving but I left without saying anything to her.”
“How come?” she asks.
“Her boyfriend followed me to the bathroom. He was trying to convince me to leave with him and lie to Penny,” I say. “He doesn’t like being told no apparently.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asks.
“I think he’s the one who attacked me,” I say.
“There was something familiar about how the first man in the park held onto me and Penny’s boyfriend had a hold of my arm and my waist at one point the bar.
It freaked me out, so I left. I didn’t think crossing the park was a bad idea.
I do it multiple times a week and I’ve never had an issue. ”
“I actually saw this exchange,” Keith says. “I came around the corner to her telling him to let go of her… I know he was mad. I guess I didn’t expect it to escalate like that.”
“Did you see him after she left?” she asks Keith.
“No. The whole group was gone when I left the restroom.”
“How do you know Rebekah?”
“I’m her psychology professor.”
“I was told that you agree to provide DNA?” Abigail asks.
“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you all need, I’ll do.”
“I know it’s your job, but he didn’t do this,” I say.
“Because you didn’t see your attackers, I have to treat everyone as a suspect. I never discount anyone because that will be the one who did it. I don’t miss details this way.
“I understand,” I say.
“What’s his name?” she asks softly.
“Grant Patterson,” I say. My voice breaks and I tear up. “He is in my dorm every week. I don’t know what to do.”
“There isn’t much you can do outside of talking to the school and seeing if you can get your room changed.”
“It’s too late in the year,” I sigh.
“That park is owned by the school so they will find out about the rape, if they don’t already know, so they’ll do their usual bullshit of offering you an advocate instead of holding their students responsible for their actions.” Keith says.
“Is this a problem?” Abigail asks.
“Students getting raped in the park?” he asks. “Yes. They refuse to warn students to stay out of the park at night because they don’t want to scare anyone apparently.”
“Why were you in the park?” she asks.
“I cut through there to get to my car, but I also want to be able to help. Almost every single weekend a girl from that school gets raped in the park. This is the first time I’ve ever seen anyone in the park at night when I cross through to go home,” he says.
“What is this advocate thing?” she asks.
“Oh, they will ask her if she wants an advocate to help her with school. It’s basically everything from getting from class to class to getting home. Anyone can do it.”
“Can you?” I ask. “Be my advocate?”
“If you want,” he says. “The school will want it to be a female.”
“They aren’t the ones who have been holding my hands since they found me,” I say and Abigail smiles. “I don’t trust anyone in that school. Right now, but I do trust you.”
“Well, I'm also a licensed therapist so I suppose that is not the worst idea,” he says.
“Therapy is one of the things I was going to bring up. Talking about these things is highly beneficial for survivors,” Abigail says.
“Can I leave?” I ask.
“You can. I have your information for both of you. I will be in touch in the next day or two. I’ll have a meeting with the dean a little later on in the day.”
“How much will he be told?” I ask.
“Why?” she asks.
“Uhm… he is Grant’s Uncle,” I say, and she sighs. “That’s bad, huh?”
“It means he’s not going to do anything to protect you,” Keith says.
“Is there any way she can move to online classes?” Abigail asks Keith.
“Yeah. Most professors give the option if the class doesn’t have a workshop,” he says. “I’d like for her to be in class with me, but I can find a way to manage online if I need.”
“I’m okay with going to your class. Sociology I only go in for tests. I’d have to ask about the others,” I say.
“If you need, I can talk to them and we can just have you avoid going to the dean for anything,” he says, and I nod.
“Do you have someone you can stay with to get you out of the dorm?” she asks.
“No, the only person I could move in with is my dad, but he’s hours away.
“I have a guest room,” Keith says to me. “If you want, you can stay as long as you need.”
“Here in the next few weeks, I’ll have access to my trust from my mom’s will, so I can get into my own place then,” I say.
“Don’t worry about how long. I’m not concerned,” he says.
“Just avoid Grant or really any of his friends,” Abigail says.
“Avoid confrontation of any kind so that I have a chance to talk to him first. Because of his family ties, it’s important that he’s caught off guard when I first talk to him.
I need to see his initial reaction to judge how I’m going to do this. ”
“Fuck,” I say. “Goddamn it.”
“What?” Keith asks, squeezing my hand.
“His stupid fucking friends. All three of them were with him tonight. They were all fucking around with the girls that came with us, so I didn’t even think about them,” I say.
“Do you know their names?” Abigail asks me.
“Um... Scott Michaels, Dylan Shaffer, and Shane Richardson,” I say.
“Scott is in the same class as you,” Keith says.
“Yeah,” I say.
“When do you have class again and what class is it?” Abigail asks.
“Monday at three,” I say. “It’s Social Psychology. How fucking ironic.”
“Okay. I am going to hide out in the back and just observe. I’ll probably watch you most of the day, so just assume I’m close by. I’ll text you occasionally, so you know where I am if you have any problems,” she says. “I am going to talk to all of them when I leave here.”
“They live together,” I say. “It’s 15189 Racker Drive. I’ve dropped Penny off there many times.”
“Perfect,” she says as she scribbles in her notebook. “I’ll talk to them together then.”
“Alone?” I ask. “That sounded shitty. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not shitty,” she says with a small smile. “I don’t like putting myself in positions where I’m interviewing potential suspects alone. It’s a policy that we aren’t alone also.”
“I assume something bad has happened?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says. “I… thought that having this badge somehow exempted me from becoming a victim of the crimes I see every day. I put myself in a position where I was alone in the home of someone accused of serial rape and… well he was definitely guilty.”
“I’m so sorry,” I frown.
“I tell you this because I want you to know that you are not alone,” she says. “Society might not want you to talk about it, but I promise there are people who will listen.”
“I just… I wish I hadn’t worn that stupid dress,” I say. “I just wanted to enjoy my birthday and feel good about myself. Instead, I invited someone to hurt me. I was a bitch to him so I’m sure that didn’t help.”
“No,” Abigail says. “It doesn’t matter what you say, do, or wear. No one has the right to touch you without your consent.”
“But…”
“But nothing,” she says. “I have seen victims be assaulted no matter what they are wearing or doing. Sometimes they are just sleeping, doing their job, jogging… you name it and someone has probably gotten raped doing it. Humans can be vile creatures and hurt others for no reason. The fault is the one who put their hands on you without permission. Clothing is not consent.”
“I just wanted to feel pretty for once,” I say with a broken voice as I wipe away my tears. “Now I just feel stupid.”
“Can I take her now? She needs to rest,”
“Yes,” she says. “The nurse said you are free to go when we are done. The kit will be processed in the next few days.”
“If there is no DNA does that mean that they will get away with it?” I ask.
“Not necessarily. I will be with you every step of the way and as long as the case is open, I will keep working it. Even if I end up having to work on other things, I still give attention to my unsolved cases.”
“Thank you,” I say.