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Authors: Mari K. Cicero

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“Indeed,” Harrison continues. “So you can understand my concern. They never caught the guy who did that. Well, anyway, we came downstairs to find that Robin’s car had been towed. Which was partly my fault. I told her to park in that spot across the street that’s marked no parking, but we all use when we’re in a pinch. I’m willing to bet someone who lives in our building needed a place to park and didn’t recognize her car, so they called it in.”

The chair bobs his head. “Probably Mrs. Revelski. Busybody of a woman. She called security on me once because I had my music ‘too loud’ and my windows open. Sorry to hear about that, Robin. Mrs. Revelski makes all of our lives in that building a little more difficult.”

“Robin asked me to call her a cab,” Harrison goes on as if Prof. Woo has said nothing. “I would’ve been happy to, but I know the part of town where the drivers take the cars they tow isn’t the safest. I drove her over there, and because it was partly my fault, I paid to get her car released. I assure you, I did it only as a courtesy. I remember being a grad student once, and stretching every penny. Robin led me to believe that her strong moral fiber wouldn’t allow it, but I question if that was part of her set up now. She insisted on paying me back. I thought it more beneficial to both of us if she were to do that by working for me, rather than starving her bank account.” He turns a pointed, daring glare at Prof. Ferris. “
That’s
the whole of it.”

“Robin?” She turns to me.

Instinctively, I want to argue, because the last thing I want to do right now is admit to any kindness Harrison has ever shown me. However, I know whatever that might achieve, a lie would quickly unravel under further inspection. I learned that lesson the hard way.

In a voice smaller than my courage, I mumble, “Yes, that’s all true. Except for the part about it being a set up.”

“Oh, no, Robin, it was entirely a set up.”

My eyes strobe, as though I can blink away what Prof. Ferris just said. “What?”

“The whole thing was a set up,” she says.

I turn to Hawk, begging him with my eyes for guidance. I’ve managed to be strong through this whole ordeal, though at moments it’s felt like I’ve been balancing skyscrapers on toothpicks. Prof. Ferris’s turncoat routine sweeps away that confidence. In the blink of an eye and a beat of my heart, I’m transported back to another meeting in the office of a different chair two years ago, feeling once again like I’d done everything in the world wrong, but not knowing how. To my surprise, however, Hawk passes me a secret smile. A fraction of nerves release, but I’m not sure if there’s something behind the gesture, or if he’s simply being the supportive boyfriend.

Prof. Woo is just as confused as I am. He plants both hands on the table top and leans in over them. “You think Robin and Hawk
have
been working together to set up Prof. Harrison?”

Ferris shakes her head. “Not at all. Oh, it was a set up, but Robin was the one being deceived. Prof. Harrison, I wonder if you know that I’m a huge fan of
Muckross Manor
on our local public TV station?”

“I wasn’t. I don’t see what—”

“The season premiere was on, the same night as that dinner at Prof. Woo’s house. I know I could have recorded it, or even watched it online the next day, but I’m really quite a fanatical follower. So, I made sure I left in time to be home for it. I left the party at ten twenty-five or so. I remember seeing you and Robin driving away in your car as I made my way to mine.”

“That may be true, but—”

Harrison’s attempts to get a word edgewise are futile. Prof. Ferris is on a roll.

“Tell me, Peter, was there anything else happening in the gated community in which you and Prof. Woo live that was cause for concern?”

I see a shadow come over Harrison’s face. “No, of course not.”

She turns back to me. “Robin, you were late coming that night, weren’t you?”

I nod.

“Why?”

I search my memory. “Because I had to bike home to get changed and grab my car, but my bike chain broke so I had to walk most of the way.”

“What kind of bike do you have? You just started at Manderson. Did you buy a used bike or maybe bring an old one?”

I shake my head. “It’s not a fancy bike, but it’s brand new. It was a gift from my dad when I graduated from Colorado last fall.”

Her head swivels, and through an oblong grin, she says to me, “Funny that the chain on your brand new bike would break right as you’re rushing home to come to the dinner, thus making you late. Isn’t that peculiar, Prof. Harrison?”

He folds his arms over his chest. “You heard what she said, it wasn’t an expensive bike. Probably one of those cheap, Chinese, mass produced things you buy at the big box stores.”

“Even still,” Ferris replies, “the timing is an exceptional coincidence.”

“Are you trying to imply that I had something to do with that, Joanna? Because that’s what it sounds like, and if you are, you better have some damn good proof to back up your claim.”

“Actually, I don’t have any. However, what I do have is this.”

Prof. Ferris reaches into a manila folder that’s been sitting before her on the desk this whole time and slips out a few pieces of paper, giving a copy to Harrison and another to Prof. Woo. I lean in slightly, trying to make out what’s written, but Hawk encircles my wrist with his hand, coaxing me back.

“What am I seeing?” Prof. Woo asks.

“My cell phone bill?” says Harrison, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. “How dare you invade my privacy like this? Where did you get this?”

“You threw it away,” Ferris winks at Hawk, “and it was recovered from the trash. Now that Prof. Harrison has confirmed and established this is indeed his cellular phone bill … Phillip, if you’ll look here,” she draws a finger across the page that Prof. Woo is examining, “you’ll see two phone calls placed at nine-oh-three and nine-fifteen. The first one is to the towing service that your development uses to clear away illegally parked cars. I’m sure you’ll recognize the other one?”

“That’s the phone number for our security service. Both of these were placed during the dinner. Peter, do you have an explanation for this?”

A gentle simmer takes off in to a rolling boil. Harrison’s so angry, that when he speaks, his lips curl. “How dare you go through my trash? Those are private documents. Even if I had disposed of them, that gives you no right to—”

He never gets to say to what, precisely. Felicia, probably having heard the commotion, bursts through the door and surveys the assembly. As good as a bucket of ice water propelling in his direction, having a new audience coerces Harrison to be quiet, if not content. He settles into his chair, partially with Prof. Woo’s insistence in the form of a gentle push on the arm, and waits. Prof. Woo scratches something on a sheet of paper that he hands off to Felicia. She reads it, passes one confused look to her boss, who nods accordingly, and exits.

Hawk uses the opportunity to say the simplest, most perfect thing.

“When I told you I was going to clean up your mess, one way or another, I meant it, Harrison. You’d be correct, of course, about going through your trash if I was just a random student or faculty. But as I am employed as the janitor, it’s in fact part of my job. In our state, in the performance of my duties, if I encounter something which suggests misconduct, whether that means something criminal or simply against policy, I’m duty-bound to report them to my supervisor. It was only a matter of  time.”

Prof. Woo pushes himself away from the table and crosses to the door, his hand on the handle. “Hawk, Robin … Again, thank you for seeing us so quickly. Now, if you’ll forgive us, I’d like an opportunity to discuss this matter further with Profs. Harrison and Ferris.”

“You can wait in my office,” Prof. Ferris says, motioning toward the door. “I’ll be there just as soon as I can.”

(2+2+2+2+2) x 2

As soon as we’re alone in Prof. Ferris’s office, the door closed behind us, Hawk wraps me in his arms.

“I’m so incredibly sorry,” he says, dotting my hair with kisses. He’s handling me with an air of reverence and delicateness that astounds me. “If I had known …”

“I’m glad it’s done. I’m glad it’s all out there. I know what it’s like to drag these things on, with everything based more on rumors than facts.” I pull away and give him my most confident grin. “All of the pieces are on the table now, but I don’t think we’re the ones playing anymore. We’ll just have to trust that Prof. Ferris can take care of it.”

“And what will that look like?” he asks, one eyebrow arched.

I shrug. “I guess I haven’t thought about it. What do you think?”

“For starters, he needs to go.” With the speed at which the statement comes rushing out of his mouth, I know Hawk’s thought this through more than once. “Beyond that, I’m not sure. My instincts say he needs some sort of sexual harassment training at the very least, but then again, I’ve never been one who believes you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Let’s just see what happens, then.”

This isn’t my first time in Prof. Ferris’s office, but it is the first that I’ve been in it for more than just a passing moment. Two love seats sit opposite each other with a coffee table in between. Hawk and I settle ourselves, but the silence falls heavy between us. So much has happened in such a small space of time, my head spins remembering it all. Seventy-two hours ago, I thought Hawk Stephens was one of the biggest bastards I’d ever met, a man with whom I entrusted the knowledge of my worst decisions, who turned around and threw them in my face. Harrison was a fatherly figure who honestly cared about my career and future and was going through extraordinary lengths to help a young grad student. It only took three spins of the globe for my whole worldview to reverse itself.

Hawk’s playing with my hair and starts to nuzzle my neck as the door opens. We both sit up straight, our eyes searching Prof. Ferris’s expression as she comes into view. Hope pulls the corners of her mouth up, but reality drags her face down.

“That bad?” Hawk asks. “I didn’t mean to make things worse. I’m—”

“No need for apologies, Hawk,” she assures him. She pulls herself inside, and again the door closes. Prof. Ferris seats herself on the opposite couch, letting a manila folder belly flop on the coffee table, and turns toward me. “I’m sorry that we didn’t get a chance to talk first, Robin. I almost called you on Friday when I saw his travel portfolio. I wish I had, but I knew you and Hawk were dating, and I thought if Peter was up to his old tricks, you would tell Hawk.”

“Wait, you what?” My head jerks left, then right, between Ferris and Hawk.

Hawk laughs once into his fist. “Prof. Ferris and I have been meeting in private about my findings during my janitor shifts. It sort of… came up once by accident. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, but decide to slay one dragon at a time. “Harrison didn’t try anything until we were at the conference,” I explain to her. “But now I see he’s been setting this up for a while. Looks like I was the perfect little bug to get caught in his web. Hawk even tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” she says. “Peter’s gotten good at this through the years, and you’re not the first one. Hawk probably told you about Fi, but did he tell you what he did to me?”

I know Hawk wasn’t supposed to talk to me about Sophia, but I’m not certain if he was at liberty to mention about Prof. Ferris. “He only said that you and Harrison had history.”

“History? Ha!” When Prof. Ferris laughs, it’s a shallow, snickering noise that conveys anything but humor. “I came in to this department six years ago. Peter was in charge of my tenure review committee. He presented himself to me as a mentor at first, as someone who was just trying to help. And he did. If it wasn’t for him, I might have never gotten through my first term without killing some of my students. It’s … probably better you don’t tell anyone I said that. I might have tenure now, but I’m pretty sure admitting to homicidal notions toward the student body might come back to haunt me. Plus, it’s not a great quality in an ombudsmen, that’s for sure.”

“I won’t tell,” I assure her.

“Anyway,” she continues, “one particularly frustrating night, he tried to soothe my weary spirits by taking me out for drinks. He kept plying me with alcohol until I was good and schnickered. I didn’t realize until afterward he’d cut himself off after the first gin and tonic. He was sober; my judgments were compromised. He took me home and managed to seduce me. I woke up the next morning completely embarrassed but thought, ‘Well, okay, we’ll just pretend like this didn’t happen.’ Peter agreed, and we went on like that for a while. Then came the day he showed up at my apartment, just a few days before the tenure committee met, looking for what I think your generation calls … a booty call? When I said no, he reminded me that it would be horrible if people accused me of only getting tenure because we’d slept together, or worse, how terrible it would be if I didn’t get tenure at all.”

My hand flies over my mouth. “He blackmailed you?”

As though a pole has just been rammed down her back, Ferris goes straight as a board. “He tried. I called his bluff, though, and told him the chair wouldn’t like it too much either if they found out the head of my tenure committee seduced me to begin with. He backed down, and I still got tenure. I didn’t think much about him for a while. You above all people know how these old school boys think women in math are only good for attempting to multiply.”

I’m not sure how to react, but her initial interest in me makes a little more sense now. She gave me a second chance because she sees the parallels between my situation and hers. At least, the part of it she knows.

“Then I started to notice how every other year, one of our female graduate students would join his group and have a complete metamorphosis of personality,” Ferris says. “When the position for department ombudsmen opened up a few years ago, I seized the opportunity, so the next time I’d be in a position to do something about it. When Hawk came to me, begging for help after he’d been accused, I thought we had our chance to finally nail that bastard’s balls to the wall.” She grimaces. “Again, probably something you shouldn’t tell anyone I said.”

I nod my agreement.

“Unfortunately, Sophia Blake refused to cooperate. I arranged for Hawk to be the night janitor because I knew sooner or later, he’d be able to turn up something we could use the next time it happened, or notice something that didn’t add up. Hawk has a mind like a steel trap; out of the ordinary things, small, seemingly inconsequential details always show up on his radar. He’s fiercely intelligent, and with his eidetic memory, I knew he’d find anything that there was to find. I’m so sorry, Robin, that of all people, it turned out to be you who it happened to, after what you already went through at Colorado with Gnomon.”

Every one of us is bowled over by what I say next, most of all me. “I’m not.”

Hawk’s high beams from Prof. Ferris’s compliment dull. “What do you mean?”

“I knew how to deal with it.” Then recalling the details of Saturday night, I add, “What I mean is, I knew how to get out of the room, and I knew better than to be manipulated by a professor that way again. Though in retrospect, I might go to the front desk of the hotel rather than running to a diner a mile away in nothing but my underclothes and a bloody T-shirt.”

Like an alerting dog, Ferris perks up. “Bloody?”

“I bit into Harrison’s chin,” I admit. The memory almost brings the taste of blood back into my mouth. “And I kicked him in the nuts when he tried to pull me back into the room.”

My confession sends Ferris into a cacophony of laughter. Even with the odd juxtaposition, the sound makes us all feel a little lighter, and soon we’re all in stitches. Finally, after we’ve started acting our ages again, Ferris addresses Hawk.

“So, there’s good news, and bad news. You want …”

“The good news, please!” Hawk settles my hand back into his and squeezes. “I think we both need to hear that.”

“Okay. The good news is that Prof. Woo believed Robin. He’s dismissed the academic misconduct charge Peter tried to press on her. He’s also asked me to consult with university administration to see if there’s any reason to involve the police at this point. Robin,” her head swivels my direction, “would you be prepared to give a statement?”

I ask if it can be done with anonymity, so that my name doesn’t again become synonymous with “slut” on campus.

“We can ask the police not to release your name until necessary, but they’d only withhold it indefinitely if you were a minor. Eventually it will come out. It has to be your decision, and I’m sure I speak for Hawk when I say we’ll support you either way. But I’ll also say this: you’re not the first he’s pulled this routine on, and I’m sure I wasn’t the first either. Every time he gets away with this, it’s making him a little bolder the next time around. I made my decision, and the moment I heard about Fi, I regretted staying quiet.”

I inhale to interject, but she cuts me off. “That’s not to say I don’t understand what you’re thinking. You, of all people, know from experience what can happen in cases of he said, she said like this. Especially when it involves a faculty member and a student. All I’m saying is, a few years down the line when you find out he not only did the same thing to another graduate student, but actually got away with raping her … Will you be so sure in your decision then?”

I really don’t want to be
that
girl again. At the same time, I realize this is no longer about me. I’m not an island this time, I’m part of a chain. I’m determined to be the last link.

Which is exactly what I tell the officer the next day when I give my statement.

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