Her plan consisted of the study of sound waves which in fact were trigonometric functions. She wouldn’t study just any sound either, she was going to focus on the music of Frank Sinatra.
She had to wait for a day in which C.J. decided to show up for class since he came as infrequently as possible. But as soon as she saw him walk in one Tuesday morning, she started to put her plan in action. She set up the computer program she had written that would display the sinusoidal functions that the music played.
C.J. entered forty minutes late and took his normal seat at the back of the classroom. He slouched and acted disinterested in anything and everything as he always did. Delia was sure it had to be an act. When they were on the cruise together, he was so lively and caring and fun. The person he purported to be now was melancholy and troublesome. She wondered how he would react to her plan.
Delia finished what she was writing on the board then she began playing “Fly me to the Moon.” Even though, C.J. tried to play it cool, she noticed his eyes expand a little.
“Uh, Ms. Clark, what is this music?” Rachel asked.
“It’s Frank Sinatra and it’s going to help us with our lesson today. I wrote a program that breaks down the pitches of the various instruments into different sinusoidal functions. Do you see the sine and cosine curves we’ve been studying?” She pointed to where the projector showed the equations and the graphs.
“We’re
gonna
use this oldies music to learn math. I bet that’s the only thing it’s good for,” Zack said.
“I disagree.” Delia began moving desks out of the way and a couple of the students helped her. “This music is also great for dancing.”
“Dancing?” Angie said, rolling her eyes. “No one can dance to this stuff.”
“Well, I’m going to show you. Let’s see, I’m
gonna
need a victim … I mean a volunteer,” she said jokingly. A few of the students raised their hands, but Delia focused in on C.J. “I think the latecomer is going to have to be the victim. Would you join me C.J.?”
“I think I’ll pass,” he said without moving an inch in his seat.
Delia predicted such a response. “
Aww
, what’s the matter? Afraid everyone will see you’re not as smooth as you think you are?” she teased in a mock baby voice.
C.J. clenched his jaw momentarily. It was such a brief lapse in his stoic cool that only Delia noticed. And then, just as quickly, the charm returned.
“No,” he said with a sly charismatic grin. “I was just looking out for your well being. ‘Cause once I touch you, you’re never
gonna
want me to stop.”
Delia’s heart skipped a beat. What if her plan had backfired?
C.J. stood from his desk, grabbed her hand, spun her around and dipped her before beginning a two-step to the music. Seconds later, she wasn’t dancing with C.J. anymore. She was dancing with Chase. She felt light headed and giddy as the room seemed to empty of students, leaving only her and Chase. Delia was transported back in time to the cruise. The touch of him, the smell of him,
the
feel of her hand in his made her weak.
When the song ended, they stood staring into each other’s eyes, until the whispers from the other students snapped her back into reality. She noticed that Ian in particular had a strange expression on his face, as if he knew something she didn’t. Delia wondered whether Chase had informed him of what happened on the cruise.
Delia flushed with embarrassment. What a spectacle of herself she was making. How could she let a teenager in high school do this to her? She needed to get control of the situation.
“Um … why don’t we um
… ”
Mercifully, the bell rang, saving her from having to come up with something logical to say. She dismissed the students and mumbled something about homework being due. She couldn’t quite remember.
Chase hi-fived a couple of the male students in the class then grabbed his backpack. Delia sat at her desk and tried to calm the flush that had overwhelmed her body. She was grateful that all the students and faculty headed to the gym for a pep rally, giving her at least thirty minutes or so to compose herself in private.
As she sat at her desk trying to wrap her head around her emotions and holding back sneezes, the next song started to play. Frank Sinatra’s “My Way.” Then she felt someone clasp her hand. It was Chase. He massaged her hand in that special way he had then he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. He danced with her without saying a word. He kissed the side of her head and caressed her cheek, but didn’t say a single thing. When the song ended, he left the room just as quietly and silently as he had entered it.
Yeah, her plan had definitely backfired.
Delia realized she lived in Washington, D.C. and that it probably wasn’t safe for her to be out alone after dark. But she also realized that grades were due soon and that she was way behind on her work. She didn’t intend to stay at school for so long, but eventually, she looked at a clock and noticed it was well after ten. Rolling her neck in small circles, she massaged her bra strap creased shoulders under her yellow collared shirt. She was exhausted. Delia finished up what she was working on, collected her things,
then
locked up her classroom.
Since space was limited in Washington, D.C., Saxon Arms had decided to build up and down in order to expand the school in their recent renovations. Besides adding two floors to the math and science building, they also added a parking lot underneath the football field.
Before going to her car in the underground lot, she went to the front of the main building in search of the security officer that worked the evening shift. She had seen too many bad horror movies of unsuspecting women being attacked in parking garages and didn’t want to go to her car alone after ten o’clock at night. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find Ted, the almost elderly security guard. After all the grandfatherly reminders he’d given her about coming to find him if she needed an escort to her car, he was nowhere to be found.
To pass the time as she waited for Ted, she called Donna Lee to see if she had gotten the results from her test or had even made it to a doctor yet. As usual, there was no answer. Why was she avoiding her? Delia hung up her phone and checked her watch again while tapping her foot impatiently
. This is ridiculous,
she thought
. The longer I stand here and wait for him, the later and more dangerous it gets. I’m just
gonna
go for it.
Somehow she reasoned that stairs were safer than the elevator. If she were attacked in a stairwell, there would be at least a glimmer of a possibility that someone could hear her screams. She shook off the thought. She was not going to be attacked.
Her heels clicked down the stairs faster than usual as an unexplainable anxiety crept into her mind. She paused when she reached her level and immediately noticed all the dark corners where danger could lurk. An ominous feeling befell her. Why had she never felt this uncomfortable before in this parking lot? Something wasn’t right. She decided to turn around, go back upstairs and wait for Ted as long as it took.
But as she turned, a man in dark clothing covered her head with a cloth bag. He tied the cord of the bag so tightly around her neck that it choked off her scream. She couldn’t breathe.
“Promise not to scream and I’ll let you breathe. For a little while longer at least,” he said with a digitally enhanced voice. She couldn’t respond. She couldn’t take in enough oxygen to form a simple ‘yes.’ Instead, she nodded with all the strength she had left. He relaxed his hold on the string around her neck enough for her to take in a long, hard, painful, breath and another and another. She began to hyperventilate when she felt someone else tying her legs together at the ankles. Then she passed out.
She awoke on an ambulance gurney with a male EMT holding an oxygen mask over her face. She blinked rapidly, trying to make the world stop spinning. Finally, she closed her eyes tightly for a moment then opened them again.
“She’s awake,” the EMT called over his shoulder. As her eyes focused, she realized the world wasn’t spinning. Rather, the red and white lights from the ambulance made everything look mobile.
A young blond woman in a trench coat stepped to her side, clasped her hand and asked, “Are you all right Mrs. James?”
Delia was too weak to correct her and say Ms. Clark. She simply nodded as she looked around trying to get her bearings.
“I’m Detective Nicholson. Do you know where you are?”
Looking around again, she recognized the street. It was her street. She sat up a little and pointed to a building to the left. “I live there,” she said softly. Her throat was so sore she found it difficult to talk.
“Do you know what happened to you?”
She nodded. “Someone attacked me. They put a bag over my head and tried to strangle me.”
“You don’t have any life threatening injuries, but we still want to take you to a hospital to have you evaluated.”
Delia looked down at her dirty and torn clothing. “Was I raped?”
“No. It seems we found you in time. But we have no idea what the intentions were of those men.”
“How did you find me?”
“The security guard at your school saw two men stuff you into the trunk of a car and drive off. He called the police and when they arrived you were found in an abandoned car on this street. Do you recognize that car?” Detective Nicholson pointed to a grey Nissan
Altima
.
Delia shook her head. She had never seen it before.
“Do you know why anyone would want to kidnap you then bring you to your own street?”
She shook her head again. She was at a loss.
“Do you know of anyone that would want to bring you harm?”
Again she had no idea.
“What do you remember about your attackers?
A touch, a smell, a familiar phrase?”
Delia closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. She couldn’t remember anything but feelings of overwhelming fear. Her shoulders began to quiver as she could feel the cord around her neck again.
“It happened so fast. I really don’t —”
The detective put her arms around her as she burst into tears. “I know this is hard. I just need to ask you a few more questions, okay?”
Delia nodded as she fought back the tears.
“Do you have access to a large sum of money or anything?” the detective asked.
“My husband is quite wealthy, but we’re estranged.”
The detective grew quiet, as if deep in thought.
“At this point, my only idea is that maybe they were planning on kidnapping you and holding you for ransom. Maybe they thought they could extort money out of your husband.”
Delia sat motionless and silent on the gurney, trying to fully grasp the reality of the situation.
“Well, let’s get you to the hospital, get you fixed up and we’ll continue the questions there.”