Free Stalking Death by Kate Flora Page A

minority students at places like this. Maybe she had friends on the team.
    "You spoke with Deborah Zucker about the phone calls?"
    "That a question?"
    "I guess not. How did she respond?"
    "You mean, what did she do besides actin' like I got two heads?"
    "Yes."
    Shondra's shrug was a big gesture. "She got me an answering machine so I could screen calls. It worked. I guess he didn't want his voice on tape or something, because for a while, the calls stopped."
    "Doesn't the school have voice mail?"
    "Yeah." Her jaw jutted sullenly. "But I had a boyfriend back home, and he didn't wanna leave no voice mail. He could only call certain times. So with the machine, I could listen for his calls... pick up when it was him."
    "You said 'for a while.' Then what happened?"
    "Someone stole it. The school wasn't about to spring for another."
    Her face dared me to ask why she didn't buy another one. "Did you report that?"
    She gave me one of those 'do you think I'm stupid' looks. "Of course I did."
    "And?"
    "And nothing. They didn't have a clue what had happened, so they did what they always done. Figured I'd stolen it myself. Sold it so I could take a trip to the mall." She gave me a sideways look, watching for my reaction. "I mean, how much did they think I could get for some piece of crap answering machine, even if I could find something at the mall that might fit me?" She stretched out in a way that showcased her long limbs and large feet.
    I understood the problem of dressing a tall body. "Why would they assume that?"
    "Lady, you're closer to 'em than I am. Why don't you ask them? Anyway, it's not like they come right out and say this stuff. I just know that's what they thinking."
    "Do you take things?" I asked.
    "Once or twice I did. In the beginning. They all had so much and I..." She didn't finish. "Jamison got on my case. Told me I was shamin' the family and asked how would Grandmamma feel if I got my sorry ass kicked out for being a thief after all he'd done to get me in here. Jameson's got some temper on him. Said he'd beat my ass. So I stopped. I never done... did it again. But to them, that's who I am."
    She gripped her bag. "I gotta go. We just wastin' time and I've got class. Look, I know it's my own fault, but other folks get second chances."
    I needed the rest of her story. "Did anyone else overhear any of the calls? Ever had anyone in your room when he called?"
    "Not that I remember. Maybe Jen or Lindsay, once?"
    "Who are Jen and Lindsay?"
    "Girls on the team. Look, I gotta go."
    "When can I talk with you again?"
    She stared into my face. Her eyes were hard and cold, and this time, all I could see was anger. "We done talkin'."
    I took out a card and offered it to her. "In case you change your mind."
    She looked at doubtfully, then shoved it in her pocket. "Doesn't matter what I say to you or anyone else. It'll always come down to the same thing. Stuff happens. I report it. They decide it isn't really happening. Talkin' to you won't change that. Nobody 'round here's gonna stand up to Alasdair. I got no time to waste on things that don't matter. I got school, I got basketball, I got work."
    She gripped the strap of her bag with a white knuckled hand. "I'm too mad at those motherfuckers to be polite anymore. You guess they ever think 'bout how it will be when my Grandmamma reads that letter? So if you'll excuse me."
    "Deborah Zucker believed you, didn't she?"
    "Yeah. And they couldn't wait to get rid of her sorry self. Did they really think we believed that stuff about her wanting to go back to the city? No way. She was like me. She didn't fit in. Allie believed me, too. And they're both gone. If you start believing me, you be gone, too. Wait and see. So if you value your job... "
    She leaned in close, this strong, furious, wounded young woman I had to look up to, and whispered, "Better get your white ass back over there to the Administration Building and tell 'em what a crazy, mixed up nigger I am. Tell 'em, whatever I said,