The Nowhere Girls(82)

Erin is due for her biweekly head shaving. Also a good time for a bath. She strips naked and stands in front of the bathroom mirror, watches the reflection of her long, thin fingers as she pulls the electric razor in careful tracks over her head, leaving a clean quarter inch of hair. When she is done, she looks at herself in the mirror. Maybe she does not hate what she sees. Maybe she does not blame the image reflected back at her for everything bad that has happened.





US.


“Ladies!” the cop at the front desk yells. “I need you to calm down!”

There are at least twenty girls crammed into the tiny waiting room of the Prescott police station. Without Margot there to take control of the situation, everyone is talking at once, trying to explain to the cop why they are there. No one’s getting very far, especially Sam Robeson, whose theatrical bent has reached epic proportions; she seems to have slipped into a Shakespearean accent accompanied by dizzying hand motions as she attempts to lecture the clueless cop.

“It’s a good thing Erin’s not here,” Rosina says to Melissa. “All this noise would kill her.”

“Someone’s got to do something,” Grace says, to no one in particular.

“Um, hello?” Rosina says. “Maybe that someone is you.”

Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it, Grace pushes her way to the front desk. She turns around and faces the crowd, raises her arms in the air until eyes start moving in her direction. “Hey, y’all,” she says. “Can we quiet down a little?” To Grace’s amazement, the room actually hushes and listens. “Unless anyone has any objections, I’m going to talk to the officer and explain what we’re doing here. If I miss anything, please feel free to chime in, but I think we’ll be more effective if one person handles most of the communication right now. Does that sound okay?”

There is a consensus of “Yes” around the room. Someone shouts “Go, Grace!”

Grace turns around. “How can I help you, young lady?” the officer says. He’s already exhausted.

“We are here to report a rape,” she says. “Several rapes, actually. We have proof. It’s online. I can give you the website address to Spencer Klimpt’s blog, where he basically confesses to—”

“Stop right there, honey,” the cop says. “I’m going to have to call in the chief on this. You girls sit tight.”

“Can’t we talk to you?”

“No, I think this is really something for Chief Delaney.” He hands a clipboard to Grace. “Will you have everyone sign this?”

“What is it?”

“We need a record of who’s here if you want to file a formal complaint.”

“Oh, okay.” Grace takes the clipboard and starts working on getting everyone signed in. Rosina texts her mother that she can’t come to work tonight. The room throbs with energy. The girls are electric.

“Yeah, hey, Chief,” the cop says into the phone. “O’Malley here. Sorry to bug you. I have a couple of dozen girls here in the station who say they want to report a rape or something. . . . Something about a website and that Klimpt boy, and I remember you said you wanted to handle anything concerning . . . Yeah, I know. . . . Sorry. . . . Yep. See you soon.” He hangs up the phone, looks around the room, and sighs. “Chief Delaney is on his way. But it may be a while, so you probably want to make yourselves comfortable. I’m sure not all of you gals need to be here.”

There are only two benches in the waiting area, so most of the girls sit on the floor. Grace confers with Lisa Sutter, Abby Steward, and the two other girls mentioned on the blog, to go over what they’re going to say to the police chief. Some girls do homework. Others mess around on their phones. Rosina avoids repeated phone calls from her mother.

A buzzer rings as the door opens.

“Hey, everyone,” says Elise Powell, who is soon tackled with a barrage of hugs by half the room.

“I can’t believe your parents let you come,” someone says.

“They don’t exactly know I’m here,” Elise says. “I’m supposed to be at the library studying.”

“I can’t believe parents still fall for that one,” Sam says.

But Elise is not the only new arrival. A large, sheepish figure emerges behind her in the doorway. “Look who I found in the parking lot,” Elise says.

Jesse Camp smiles and waves awkwardly. “Hi,” he says. “I heard about what you guys were doing and I wanted to help. I thought I could come and give a statement about Spencer’s character or something, since I’ve heard him brag about this stuff for years.” He looks down. “I don’t know,” he says. “Do you think that could help?”

“Yes,” Grace says, stepping over her friends on the floor to get to him. She puts her hand on his arm. “Of course that will help. Thank you for being here.”

“They make a cute couple, don’t you think?” Rosina whispers to Melissa.

“Does she like him?” says Melissa.

“She won’t admit it, but yeah. She totally likes him.”

Rosina’s phone buzzes. “Dammit,” she says. “This is like the tenth time my mom has called in the past twenty minutes.”

“Maybe you should answer,” Melissa says.