Free Restrike by Reba White Williams Page A

played college football. He may have even lost weight since college. Sun and alcohol have roughed up his skin, but he still has good hair, and it’s still black. And Satan still looks out of those crazy no-color eyes.”“I’m sure that couldn’t change unless he was born-again. And pigs might fly. How was your lunch?”Dinah sneezed. “Oh, I came across like an idiot. I couldn’t think of anything to say fast enough to get a word in. Simon Fanshawe-Davies talked the whole time, and his ghastly aftershave or whatever it is gave me hay fever. The only good news is that Bain wants me to offer the museum a group of my kind of prints.”
    “That’s what counts—you’re the expert in your field. You stand out wherever you are.”
    Dinah sighed. “I didn’t today.”
    “Forget it—it doesn’t matter. Did anyone mention Jimmy La Grange?”
    Dinah blew her nose. “No, not a word. He died less than two weeks ago, but it’s as if he never existed.”
    “I agree. No one seems to care how or why he died. It makes my blood boil. Speaking of blood boiling, are you going to tell Jonathan about Maxwell Arnold?”
    “No. If he knew, he’d get me an armed guard, or two or three. I’d look like Heyward Bain.”
    “You’ve got a point. But if Maxwell turns up again, you must tell Jonathan. It was one thing to keep all that a secret when he stayed in the South, but if he’s bringing his vendetta to New York—”
    “We’ll see,” Dinah said.

Eleven
    Friday
    Coleman was sorry Dinah had encountered Maxwell Arnold. She’d brought that hellhound into Dinah’s life, and she wished she could undo it. She’d gone over and over it in her mind, but she couldn’t see what she might have done differently—except, of course, never gone out with him. But that hadn’t seemed like an issue at the time.
    In the spring of her freshman year at Duke, Coleman’s life was close to perfect. The weather in Durham was beautiful, and she was busy with school, with friends, and with her sewing. Boys lined up for dates, and she went out a lot—not just with Duke boys, but boys from North Carolina State College in Raleigh, and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She’d met Maxwell Arnold at a party. He was a Big Man On Campus at UNC, and he’d seemed okay. He’d asked her out several times, but she’d always been busy, until he’d invited her to have dinner with him on a Saturday night several weeks ahead. She was free, and accepted.
    He’d told her they were going to Snyder’s, a famous steakhouse, so she dressed up in a blue silk dress. But when Maxwell picked her up, he didn’t take her to the restaurant. He drove her into the woods, where four of his fraternity brothers were waiting in a clearing. She’d dated all of them once or twice, and they’d been nice enough, so she was puzzled, but not frightened. They reeked of beer, but that wasn’t unusual.
    But Maxwell shoved her out of the car, and said, “Okay, Ice Maiden, which one of us do you want to do first? We’ve had enough of your cock-teasing shit. Who the hell do you think you are?”
    Coleman had felt a flash of fear, but fear affected her as it always did: she became furiously angry. With her rage came the certainty that if she showed weakness, they’d rape her. Her only hope was attack. She stood as tall as she could, which wasn’t very tall, and said in an ordinary conversational tone, “You’re great big strong men, and I’m not a very big girl, and I’m alone. I can’t stop anything you do to me. But hear me: if any one of you touches me, I’ll walk back to campus, and I’ll tell the world about you, and what you did. You’ll have to kill me to stop me.
    “And you, Tommy, will not go to medical school, I promise you that. Tonight will end your hopes of a medical career. And you, Buddy—you told me you plan on law and politics. But not in this state, not if you hurt me. I’m Miss Ida Slocumb’s granddaughter, and don’t forget it.