“Last week.” Mindy started sobbing. I passed her a box of tissues and waited for her to resume control of herself.
“Did you have a steady boyfriend prior to the rape?”
“I’ve been going steady with Bernie for over a year. We were talking about maybe getting married …” Mindy’s voice choked with emotion and she grabbed for the box of tissues. “I’m sorry. This is so damn hard.”
I nodded my agreement. “Did you tell Bernie about the rape?”
“No, I was scared to tell him what happened.”
“Weren’t you concerned about the possibility of AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases?”
“No, not really. Not at the time. I was afraid he would dump me.”
“Because you were raped?”
“No, Bernie’s old-fashioned. I was afraid that if he found out that I went out with a stranger and got loaded, and wound up getting raped by a bunch of guys, he’d just bail on me. He thinks I’m Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes. I don’t think he could handle knowing I’d let myself get had by some sweet-talking guy.”
“What did he say when you told him about the positive AIDS test?”
“I haven’t told him.” She was snuffling again and more tears threatened to flow.
“Isn’t it possible Bernie gave you the infection?”
Mindy let out a hysterical guffaw and looked at me incredulously. “Bernie? You must be kidding. He’s strictly straight arrow.”
“What about before Bernie? Did you have unprotected sex with any of your boyfriends?”
“Oh shit! Yeah, sure I’ve had sex without using rubbers. The guys don’t like ’em and it makes it so damn clinical. I mean to stop making out and open up a rubber and put it on a guy is not very romantic, is it?” She glared at me as if it was my fault. I found it hard to believe that in this day and age she’d engage in unprotected sex with men she dated. I ignored her taunt.
“Did the police or medical personnel ask you who you’d been sleeping with and might have given you the infection after you got the results?”
“No, they just said the results are confidential.”
“So, isn’t it possible the infection came from someone other than the guys who raped you?”
“No way, José. I wasn’t infected before the rape and the first test proves it. Those bastards infected me. So what’s your point?” Mindy was turning feisty which I took as a good sign as she was coming out of her funk.
“Do you think Bernie will dump me if I tell him I’m HIV positive?” She said in a worried tone.
“Not if he’s also infected. You’ll both be in the same boat. If he’s not infected, he’ll scram because he’s afraid of getting infected. Either way, you’ll get a quick read on his character. There’s nothing like the threat of AIDS to find out whether he’s a man or a mouse.”
Mindy started crying again. Now, big wet tears cascaded down her cheeks and onto her jeans. The light on my telephone console blinked furiously. I was sure Juanita was signaling that Mindy’s parents were back in the office and getting restless. As I didn’t want to discuss the situation with Juanita in front of Mindy, I said to Mindy, “I have to deliver a file to my secretary. I’ll be back in a minute. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? A Coke?”
“I’ll have a Diet Coke if you’ve got one,” she squeaked through her tears.
“Great. I’ll get you one and be back in a jiffy.”
CHAPTER 2
On my return, I handed Mindy a can of Diet Coke and popped the top off a can of root beer. Mindy was dabbing her cheeks with tissues but no longer crying. “My secretary says your parents are still out for coffee,” I lied. They were, in fact, sitting and fidgeting nervously in my waiting room, much to Juanita’s annoyance.
“Great, I just can’t deal with them right now. Father has gone ballistic over the whole thing. You’d think he was the one who got raped and infected with AIDS.”
“Well, some dads take it personally when someone messes with their little girl.”
Mindy actually cracked a little smile. “Not my father. He only thinks of himself.”
Since the crying jag seemed to be over, I wanted to learn what had happened seven months ago. “Tell me how you first met the men who assaulted you.”
Mindy took a deep breath to steel herself to the task ahead. “I was studying at the main library on campus. It was late; I had a paper to crank out and I was bored and fed up with the topic. I’d done a draft, but it was crappy. I guess I must have muttered something out loud. A guy nearby moved over beside me and confessed he was also tired of studying and we just started talking.
“He say what he was studying?” I asked.
“He said his name was Barry and that he was a grad student in the Psych dept.”
“Did he volunteer a last name?”
“No, he didn’t. I know it seems stupid now, but then it just seemed normal. He was talking about what goes on in the Psych graduate program and he seemed like an interesting guy. It was after nine, so we both decided to pack it in for the night. He asked me if I’d like to join him for a beer at La Val’s; it’s a student hangout on the north side of campus with an outdoor courtyard. Barry said he had to meet some friends there. I figured why not, maybe I’d meet some interesting people and unwind with a beer.
“Had you seen Barry before? At the library or on campus?”
“I’ve wracked my brain about this. I’m not sure. I might’ve seen him around but you see so many new people every day that it’s often a blur.”
“Would you recognize him, if you saw him again?”
“Oh yeah, you bet! No way I’d ever forget his face or his buddies either.”
“What happened when you got to La Val’s?”
“Barry’s friends were already there. There were two guys and a woman. They had killed a pitcher of draft beer and were laughing and joking about their work. Everything seemed okay. The one guy, John, who was with the woman, Joanie, was cracking everyone up describing how some campus nerds answered his marketing research questionnaire.”
“I know the place. It’s a nice place to drink a few brews, as I recall.” I sounded upbeat to keep her talking.
“Yeah, we had three or four pitchers. I wasn’t paying much attention. They were telling these outrageous stories about rats in cages and all the crazy things that go on in their research labs. We were all drinking a lot. I don’t normally drink except on weekends, but it was a Thursday night and I just said what the hell. I knew I was getting loaded but we were all having a good time and everyone seemed okay.”
“Was Barry hitting on you?”
“Not really. I could tell he was interested in me but he never made a pass. He was real funny, the way he described how the nerds in the psych labs scurry around just like the rats they study. He’d look at me for my reaction. The other guy, Steve, was telling us how the optometry grad students have labs full of cages off campus and do experiments on the eyes of live cats. It was gross. I didn’t have any idea that sort of stuff went on.”
I was confused. “Were these people involved in the rape?”
“No, not really. When we all decided it was time to go, Barry said he had a couple more friends he wanted me