Run Away(90)

“Don’t call him an alleged attacker. Call him a rapist.”

“I don’t know what he was.”

“But you do know who, right?”

He stood there.

“You do, don’t you?”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“But you know the name of the boy.”

He looked off. “I have a guess. At least I do now.”

“What does that mean?”

Van de Beek put his hand through his thick hair and let loose a long breath. “This is where the story takes a bizarre turn, Mr. Greene.”

Like it hasn’t already? Simon thought.

“I don’t know the order,” van de Beek continued. “I’m not sure what came first—Paige’s deterioration or…” He stopped.

“Or what?”

“There was another”—he paused, looked up as though searching for the right word—“incident on campus.”

“Incident,” Simon repeated.

“Yes.”

“Do you mean rape?”

Van de Beek winced. “Paige didn’t use the word ‘rape.’ Never. Just for the record.”

Now, Simon knew, was not the time to get into a semantics debate. “Was there another assault?”

“Yes.”

“Was it done by the same boy?”

He shook his head. “Just the opposite.”

“Meaning?”

“The boy I believe may have assaulted Paige,” van de Beek said, his words coming more measured now. “He was the victim this time.”

He met Simon’s gaze. Simon did not blink.

“His name is Doug Mulzer, a sophomore econ major from Pittsburgh. He was beaten with a baseball bat after a frat party on campus. Broken legs. And then, the smaller end of the bat, it was…” He started to stammer. “Well, that part of the attack was never made public. The family didn’t want it known, but the rumors spread around campus. He’s still convalescing in Pittsburgh.”

Simon could feel the chill work its way up his spine. “And you think Paige had something to do with this?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, tried again. Simon could see that he was straining to be careful with his words. “I can’t say for sure.”

“But?”

“But in class the next day, Paige just kept smiling. Everyone else was upset over what had happened. But Paige kept staring at me and grinning in this weird way, and I could see for the first time that she was glassy eyed. Like she was on something. Like she was high.”

“So your evidence is that she got high and smiled?” Simon asked. “Maybe she got high to numb the pain.”

Van de Beek said nothing.

“I don’t care what she was on,” Simon said, picturing the sickening assault in his head. “Paige wouldn’t do something like that.”

“I agree.” Another student walked by and shouted out a “Hi, Louis!” and van de Beek gave him an absentminded nod. “She wouldn’t do something like that. At least, not on her own.”

Simon froze.

“But when Paige left class that day, I noticed that there was a man waiting for her. Not a kid. Not a student. A man I’d guess was about ten years older.”

Aaron, Simon thought. It was Aaron.





Chapter

Thirty-One



All the info I just gave you, you can’t tell anyone,” Elena had said. “Someone could claim that it was obtained illegally—the fruits of a bad act or some such thing. Either way, even if we go to the feds today, it won’t be a priority. It’ll take days, probably weeks, just to get it assigned to someone. We don’t have…”

Elena heard a click on her line. Another call was coming in. The caller ID was blocked. Most people would suspect that it was some kind of spam call, but Lou had arranged something on the phones to prevent that. If she got a call, it was usually something relevant.

And the last person she had given her card to was Alison Mayflower.

“Simon, hold on, I have another call.”

She clicked over. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi.” A woman’s whisper. Not Alison Mayflower. This woman sounded young—twenties, maybe thirties. “Is this Miss Ramirez?”

“This is she. Who is this?”

“Oh, my name isn’t important.”

“Could you speak up?”

“Sorry, I’m a little nervous. I’m calling…I’m calling for a friend of mine. You met her today at a certain café.”

“Go on.”

“She needs to see you—boy, does she need to see you—but she’s afraid.”

Alison Mayflower, Elena recalled, lived with another woman named Stephanie Mars. Could be her on the line.

“I understand,” Elena said in her gentlest voice. “Maybe we can meet someplace where she’d feel comfortable.”

“Yes. Alison really wants that.”

“Can you hold on just one split second?”

“Okay.”

Elena moved fast. “Simon?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Gotta go. Alison Mayflower wants to meet.”