Chapter XVI

"I don't understand," I said to Miss Carswell. "You want me to do what?!!"
I thought she had told me to tell Officer Searle that my brother Donald had been selling club drugs to his classmates. "Are you out of your mind?" I yelled, then felt guilty for shouting at her.
"No, Lisa," I am most definitely not out of my mind. I think you should tell Officer Searle what you told me. He is part of a statewide task force on teens and drugs and is in favor of working with, rather than merely punishing young offenders. He was even involved in a research study that ended up advocating the decriminalization of marijuana. I think he'd be sympathetic to Donald's plight. I know he likes and respects you."
"I don't think I can take the chance that he'll just use what I tell him to get Donald. He could even force me to testify against my own brother."
"Well, you asked me what you could do to put an end to this misery, Lisa, and that's all I can think of. I suspect that Andy, uh, Officer Searle already knows that your brother has been dealing. It's only a matter of time until there's proof, and then Donald will face some hard time as an adult offender. I do believe that you'd be doing Donald a favor if you went to Officer Searle and told him what you told me."
"How could he be sympathetic to Donald's plight?" I blurted out. "I'm not even sympathetic, and I'm his sister."
She chuckled. "You didn't know Andy when he was Donald's age."
"I know his sister. She's my age," I retorted.
"Yes, she's the younger sibling. When Andy was fifteen he ran away from home because he couldn't stand life on his father's farm. He was found in California at sixteen after he was arrested for breaking and entering. They sent him home, and he immediately got into trouble again. Fortunately, the trouble was not serious enough to earn him jail time. Instead he and his family came before me when he stole a neighbor's car and wrecked it because he was too stoned to drive. I had him make restitution. He turned his life around after that and went back to school Now he's on the police force, of all things, and enrolled part-time at the university. He's gone from being a troubled boy to a good man. I think he'd understand Donald if anyone would."
"So why don't you talk to him about Donald? Why do I have to rat on my brother?" I protested.
"If you want me to do that, I will, but since you told me what you did in confidence, I didn't feel it was my place to break that confidence without your permission," she said gently. "I do think that you would be a better advocate for Donald than I, Lisa, since you have a better understanding of the conditions of his life since they are also the conditions of yours. Besides," she added almost as an afterthought, "Andy likes you and asked for you."
"What do you mean he likes me? He doesn't know me."
"He likes you," she repeated. "Believe me, I know him, and he likes you."
"Likes me as in thinks I'm a nice kid?"
"Likes you as in grilled me for an hour about whether or not you really were going to marry Mike McLaren and breathed a sigh of relief when I finally convinced him you were not. You still aren't, are you? I'd hate to think I'd misled him."
"Funny you should mention it, but mom was on my back about it just a while ago. But my answer is still no."
She chuckled again. "Well, think about what I said. And remember that I will talk to him if you wish. But I think that what you have to say would be better coming from you."
We said good night and hung up, but I didn't sleep until an hour before sunrise. To say I was conflicted and confused would have been an understatement.

I was groggy the next morning, but fortunately my training period started with my having to provide elementary assistance to Mrs. Millard, the loan officer. She had me photocopy for almost two hours, then she took me out to lunch. While we waited for our food, she gave me a huge volume of instructions and information on government guidelines for loans. I wasn't sure if she wanted me to photocopy or memorize it, but she just laughed and said I had to do neither, just familiarize myself with the contents over the next few months. I was not to take the thing home either, just spend an hour a day reading it at the bank.
That didn't sound too difficult, but it didn't sound all that interesting either, especially not in my sleepy state. I yawned a couple of times, and she looked at me sharply. "Late night?" she asked.
I nodded. "I couldn't get to sleep."
"Worried about the new job?"
I almost shook my head but then decided the less she knew about Donald's situation the better. "Yes," I replied, "though I'm not sure if worried is the right word. I'm looking forward to learning more but and hoping I'm up to the new responsibility."
She smiled. "A very politic answer, Lisa. I'm sure you'll do fine."
"What," I ventured, "will my new job consist of? Besides photocopying and learning the contents of this tome, I mean."
She laughed. "You'll be learning how to process loan applications. I'll be leaving in a few months, you know. The bank has a few potential candidates for my position. None of them is from around here. Whoever gets the job will need a lot of help getting familiar with how things work and who's trustworthy and what the property values are like. Of course, before we authorize a loan, we appraise all properties, but it still helps to have an insider around, someone in the know. It looks like the manager has decided that someone will be you."
I nodded, both disappointed and relieved. "Well, I hope I can be of help to the new loan officer."
She smiled and patted my arm. "I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up in my job a few years down the line."
I shrugged, knowing that was supposed to be a compliment but not at all sure I wanted to be working at the bank a few years down the line, no matter in what position.
The afternoon shift dragged on until two o'clock when one of the tellers stuck her head into Mrs. Millard's office and said there was someone who needed to see me.
I hadn't phoned Officer Searle, and I wondered if he'd come to hunt me down. But my visitor wasn't he. It was Jason Hardy, my ex-boyfriend.
Jason looked unhappy. But he tried to smile when he saw me.
"Hello, Lisa," he said softly. "Is this a bad time to talk?"
I nodded. "I just started a new job today, Jason. I can't take time off."
He looked down at his feet. "Well, can I come by when you get off and drive you home? I have mom's car."
I contemplated him for a few seconds. He just didn't seem as wonderful to me as he used to. He didn't even look as good. Not as cute as Andy Searle. "Sure, why not?" I replied cavalierly. "I get off at four today."
"That's pretty late," he said. "Not what I thought of as banker's hours," he tried a joke.
"Well, that's when I get off," I replied. And I turned and walked back into Mrs. Millard's office.
I hadn't exactly told him the truth. Four o'clock was my official quitting time, but I'd been thinking of going over to the police station and have a little talk with Officer Searle before then. For some reason Jason's showing up at the bank made that seem like a particularly good idea. So when Mrs. Millard told me she was leaving at a quarter to two and that I could use the last couple of hours to study the volume she'd given me, I decided to cut out early as well. Not my usual, hyper-responsible behavior, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. And it turned it to be just that.
I phoned the police station at two and made an appointment to talk with Andy Searle at two-thirty. I was surprised when he told me he'd come to get me at the bank, but I didn't argue.
When he arrived, I was ready. To my surprise, he had his car and offered to take me for a drive. "We could talk at the station," he said, "but I don't want a lot of ears listening to what's not their business."
For a moment I thought that being alone with him in his car might not be a great idea, but I dismissed that thought. Miss Carswell obviously liked him, and I had a good feeling about him, even if he was a cop gathering evidence against my brother.
We didn't talk much as he drove out towards a restaurant about twelve miles from town. It was well-known for its pastry. "We can have coffee and talk at the restaurant," he said with a very warm smile. I'm glad you phoned. I was going to phone you tomorrow, but now I won't have to."
The restaurant only had a few middle-aged women in it, and Andy got a table at the back where it was quiet.
"They have really good coffee," he said. "And great strudel and eclairs."
"I think I'll pass on the strudel and eclairs," I said. "But a cup of coffee would be nice."
He didn't press me, and I was grateful for that. The coffee came quickly, and I decided that since I'd called him I needed to be the one to start talking.
"Miss Carswell suggested I talk with you about my brother. She believes you need to know certain things that I know. I have had mixed feelings about telling you what I know because they don't reflect well on Donald. But she believes that you're trustworthy and may be able to help him."
He held up his hand. "Wait a second. Let me make this easier for you, Miss Dunn. When we searched the stolen car your brother was driving, we found an old jar under a blanket in the trunk. It had traces of marijuana in it, a few shreds of aluminum foil, and one pill. The pill was Rohypnol. It seemed to have fallen out of a foil packet because there were shreds of foil adhering to its surface. Do you know what Rohypnol is, Miss Dunn?"
I nodded. "Yes, I know. It's also knows as roofies and the date rape drug."
"Exactly," he replied. "We asked your brother about the jar, but he claimed it must have been in the car when he took possession of the vehicle. However, it had his fingerprints on it. Your brother could be in big trouble, Miss Dunn, but I'm hoping we can prevent that. My guess is that he's a small-time dealer. We want his supplier."
I nodded. "If you have my fingerprints on file, I think you'd find them on the jar as well and possibly on the aluminum foil. I found the jar in the bathroom, confronted Donald. He initially denied that it was his, but when I started to crush pills underfoot, he went crazy. Eventually he admitted that he was selling the pills to be able to afford a car and to have some money salted away to leave home. Not knowing what to do, I phoned Miss Carswell."
He grunted. "That was probably the smartest thing you could have done, but I'm surprised that you didn't turn to your parents."
I hesitated and decided that I wouldn't tell him about dad's history or the problems with the farm. Either he'd checked police and social service records and knew already or else he didn't need to know. "Well, they're under a lot of stress right now, so I turned to Miss Carswell. She advised me to tell them anyway, so they know now."
"How are they doing with the information?" he asked, looking concerned.
"Not great, but they'll survive. You don't keep a family farm going nowadays without a lot of stubbornness and good survival skills."
He laughed harshly. "Tell me about it. My dad nearly lost his marbles trying to keep the family farm going. A nice guy who turned into a monster until my mom threatened to leave him. He sold the farm and spent the last ten years of his working life working for the telephone company. He hated it, but it paid him and gave us all health insurance. When he turned fifty, about five years ago, he picked up and left. I hear he's in Florida now." He shrugged and tried to look indifferent, but I could see that his father's leaving had upset him badly and still bothered him.
"My mom divorced him and remarried two years ago. A postal worker down in Alabama. I see her twice a year. Fortunately she waited until my sister was grown up enough to take care of herself. Ellie never goes down there."
"Do you ever see your father?" I asked.
He shook his head. "The last time was the day he left. I've phoned and written, but he won't talk to me. His girlfriend says he doesn't' have any kids and threatens to have me arrested for harassing him."
I wasn't sure I really wanted to know all that much about the young man sitting across from me, but I wasn't sorry I'd asked. I could feel myself warming to him. He was so open. I wasn't used to that in a guy. Not even in Jason.
"Well, let's get back to brass tacks," he suggested. "I think it would be great if you could talk with Donald and try to persuade him to help us so as to help himself."
I shook my head. "I don't think he'll talk to me. He's been really mad at me since I found the bottle of pills and confronted him."
The policeman smiled at me. "He'll talk to you. He's not mad at you, but he's scared that you're mad at him. Your dad really tore into him before the bail hearing. Then Miss Carswell came to see him. She wasn't particularly harsh or judgmental, but you know, she doesn't exactly inspire warm feelings in most people. I think that if you could talk to him and let him know you care, he might open up."
I sighed. "Well, I guess it couldn't hurt."
"Great," he said with a big smile. "Do you have time now?"
I shook my head. "A friend is supposed to pick me up at the bank at four. We have a lot to catch up on."
He looked disappointed. "Can't the friend wait?"
I made eye contact. "It's my former boyfriend, Jason. He's home from college and we need to get a few things straightened out."
"Your former boyfriend?" he repeated, emphasizing "former."
"Yeah, he dumped me and brought his new girlfriend home for Christmas. I think he wants to apologize and make things right."
"I thought you were engaged to Michael McLaren," he said, his face so stiff as to look almost dead.
"Well, think again," I replied. "I'm not about to get engaged to Mike or anyone else. I want to go to college and become an art therapist. Then I can think about marriage and family."
"Art therapy? Hey, that's great. Ellie said you draw really well. What a wonderful way to use your artistic talent!"
"Well, that's a long way down the road," I explained. "I'm just taking courses at the community college right now. In fact, I have an exam on Monday, and I haven't had any time to study, what with Donald's arrest and all."
"What are you taking?"
"Intro to behavioral psych."
"With Anderson?"
I was astonished. "That's right. How did you know?"
He grinned, his face animated all over again. "I took it about four years ago. I did a year at the community college before I transferred to State."
"Really?"
He nodded. "Really! And I have a great set of notes and an outline of the textbook. Want to borrow them?"
I grinned back at him. "Sure. What about if you bring them tomorrow, and I'll pick them up when I come in to talk to Donald?"
"Fine," he said firmly. "And don't any arrangements to be driven home by any former boyfriends, okay?"
"Okay," I agreed. And then we put on our coats, paid, and drove back to the bank.