Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(74)

“Big drinker, are you?”

She hung her head. “Not really,” she said. “I’ve been to a few parties with these guys. Maybe three. I never got so trashed before.”

“Ever pass out and put on your undies inside out and backward?”

“No. Nothing like that. But I realize I was pretty drunk.”

“But you didn’t think anything about it? Let me ask you something—did you have any soreness anywhere? Bruises or anything?”

“I was a little sore, down there,” she said, glancing into her lap. “I just thought it was impossible. You know? Because I thought if anything had happened, I would’ve woken up. But then later when I heard this girl in the locker room at gym class telling one of her girlfriends to never go to one of those parties—those beer parties. And she said something like, ‘I’m not even going to tell you what happened to me! You just wouldn’t believe it!’ And right away I knew. Don’t ask me how I knew—I just knew.”

“You think you might have been raped?”

“I might’ve been, yeah. I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem like those guys… They’re just friends. They don’t seem like the kind of guys who…”

“Have you missed periods or anything?”

“I’m on the pill. I’m on it for my periods, you know? Because they’re awful. I got my period on time about a week later, but now I’m starting to worry about other stuff. Like what if something happened to me and I got something?”

“Straight thinking, kiddo. We can check for everything and put your mind at ease. But, Sophie—I’ve heard something similar to this before and I’m concerned. I have no idea if anything happened to you besides a little too much beer, but I seriously need you to talk to a friend of mine, a police officer, who—”

“Wait a sec,” she said. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“Sophie, you’re not in trouble. My advice is to stop going to unchaperoned parties where alcohol is served and joints are available, but that’s just advice. My friend might want to ask you who was there, just to see if there are any similarities between your experience and… And other things I’ve picked up just talking with people.”

“And if there are? Will the people who were there get in trouble? Because I don’t want to do that.”

“Sophie, I can assure you no one’s going to get into trouble for drinking beer. I’m not even interested in the pot. Everything you say will be kept in confidence. But seriously—we need to know what’s going on, if something like assault is going on.”

“What if nothing’s going on?”

“Then nothing more will come of it,” Mel said. But in her gut, she knew. “My friend, he has a lot of detective experience, he’s worked with a lot of kids—and he’s been looking into this stuff already. He’d be very interested in talking to you. And he will never divulge where he got his information without your complete permission. Will you, Sophie? If it could help keep this from happening to anyone else?”

“I might,” she said, ducking her head shyly. “Let me think about it.”

Mel did the requisite pelvic exam, tested for STDs and convinced Sophie to talk to Mike. Mel asked Sophie to wait at the clinic for a little while, just long enough to see if she could find Mike. They could have their conversation in private at the clinic—the safest place she could think of, away from Sophie’s friends and parents. If Mike wasn’t around, she would have to ask Sophie to come back the next day, and cross her fingers that the girl would.

Mel felt terrible all over. She hated hearing Sophie’s story, because she was convinced there was a date raper in town, maybe even a group of boys, young men, possibly using drugs on unsuspecting girls.

It was early afternoon when she left Sophie in the clinic and went to the bar. It was quiet, as was usual for the mid-afternoon. Jack’s truck was gone—she assumed he was out at the house, getting in everyone’s business. In the kitchen she found Paige and Preacher getting things started for the evening meal. “Hi, guys. Anyone seen Mike?”

“His car’s out back, but I think he’s locked in with his…You know Brie’s in town, right?” Preacher asked.

“Yeah,” she said, picking up the phone in the kitchen. She punched in Mike’s land line. “Hi, Mike. I hate to do this to you. I need you. It’s about a situation we discussed a while ago—it’s business.” Then she said, “Thanks. I owe you one.”

She went behind the bar and fixed herself a sparkling water, waiting for Mike. The speed with which he appeared gave her a little peace of mind. She hadn’t interrupted anything too complicated or private, and for that she was grateful.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Let’s step out on the porch,” she said.

Once outside, she explained in hushed tones what she’d just heard, and the girl’s willingness to talk to him. Then she took him across the street and introduced him to Sophie. She should have expected Mike to be a pro, yet she was pleasantly surprised by the tenderness and finesse with which he handled Sophie, putting her at ease at once, gaining her confidence and trust. He took her into Doc’s kitchen, since there were no patients in the clinic. A few moments later he came out, asking for a tablet and pen, then went back behind closed doors.