Veronica was pissed off. She had just heard from her sister that her niece was leaving her prep school and wanted to move out of state. While she certainly didn't mind her niece coming to live with her for a while (she knew that her niece was already 19 & only had a couple of months left in school), she was pissed about the reason that her sister gave her.
It seemed that a teacher, Mr. Small, had been pressuring her to sleep with him and, as her niece had refused, he had been giving her failing grades.
Veronica asked about going to the school officials but was told that her niece was too scared to do that. She didn't want to be part of a huge story, particularly one that was very much a "he said, she said" situation. Mr. Small, she was told, had been very careful, meticulous even, to never act in the least bit inappropriately in the presence of anyone else. Her class was all 18 or 19 year olds, who had finished high school but were taking prep classes to get ready for college. As such, everyone was very independent and on their own. When Mr. Small did call her to his office, he would make her leave her jacket, cell phone and purse in his classroom, so that he was certain that he wasn't being recorded.
This behavior was bad enough, but he even covered his tracks when threatening to fail her niece. He would intentionally send her to the office or to run an errand and give out or collect assignments when she wasn't present. The one time her mother tried to find out why the grades were slipping (Before she knew what was going on), Mr. Small just showed her a grade book that indicated multiple missing assignments.
Veronica agreed that going to the school officials without evidence and with the paper trail stacked against her was probably not a good idea. So she happily agreed to let the niece move from Atlanta to Texas for a while.
"Just one thing, sis," she said, "I have some work to do in Atlanta anyway, I'll be there for a few days next week, then I'll just bring Jasmine home with me."
"Great," was the reply, "We have a spare room, of course."
"No thanks, sis, my company already has me a hotel room downtown, and I'll be working all hours." Veronica lied.
Veronica was determined to solve this "Mr. Small problem." She was certain that if he had done this to her niece then he had done it to others and needed to be stopped.
She arrived in Atlanta, checked into a hotel and scouted out the area. Her shopping included some unusual items, bolt cutters, a combination padlock and a large sign, one of the ones that comes with plenty of letters so you can make it say whatever you want.
She had already found a perfect location, a lakeside beach about twenty to thirty minutes west of Atlanta. The main entrance was ridiculously well marked, but Veronica found a maintenance gate on the back of the camp that was perfect. One old gate, padlocked shut using a large chain, and two signs on a tree next to the gate. One sign had the name of the camp, and the other said "Private Property". Veronica used the bolt cutters to cut off the old lock, opened the gate and drove down the dirt road. After about a quarter mile, there was a maintenance shed and a small parking area. After a brief walk down a nice trail, she came to a beach area on a lake; it was very secluded.
She had already viewed the area using Google Earth, but she walked it to make certain everything was just right. Just as she thought, about a half mile down the beach was a hill and over the hill were some cabins. Luckily, they couldn't be seen from the beach. She walked back to her rental car and drove out, stopping just before she got to the gate to hang her custom sign. She then drove through the gate, stopped, removed the sign with the name of the camp displayed which she hid behind a tree and then locked the gate, using the same chain, but with her new combination lock.
She drove over to a nearby college campus to check out the bar scene and then went back to her hotel room.
The next day was Friday; she slept in a bit, then put on a suit, professional looking, and drove to her niece's school. She entered the building around 2:00 and stopped in the office, saying she had an appointment with Mr. Small, she was asked to sign in and directed to room 202 upstairs. She smiled, picked up a pen and pretended to sign in, but wrote nothing. The secretary never noticed and didn't seem too interested.
On the way to room 202, Veronica stopped in the ladies room. She dropped her gorgeous blonde hair from its tight bun, letting it flow gently on her shoulders, and she unbuttoned her blouse, just slightly more than necessary. She then used an old high school trick and rolled her skirt down around the waist, taking her skirt well up from knee length. She reapplied her makeup and perfume and continued on to room 202.
Upon arriving at the room, she noticed that class was still in session, not wanting to be noticed by the students (she knew that she was dressed like many an eighteen year old boys fantasy and that the clever girls would notice a "slutty" look to her outfit and makeup) she found an empty room just down the hall in which to wait. If she was spotted by either of the groups mentioned above, she could be remembered, and her plan was for no one to have any memory or record of her being here.
Within 5 to 10 minutes, class dismissed, and she waited a few minutes longer for the hallways to clear out before making her move.
She peeked into room 202 to make sure that the teacher was alone, and he was.
She opened the door and entered, "Mr. Small," she cheerfully opened with, as she crossed the room.
As he glanced up, he was practically in awe as she glided toward him, making sure her heels clicked and nylon thigh highs rubbed against each other.
"Yes," he managed to say.
"Damn, I might have overdone it," Veronica thought to herself when she saw how pitiful he looked.
"I'd like to talk to you, if you have a second, Mr. Small." She said.
"Certainly, certainly, Miss, uh" he replied.
"You can call me Lacey, Mr. Small." She told him.
"OK, Lacey, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Well, I'm just back in town after my third year away. You see, I'm in college," she lied, though she still looked like she could be in college. In actuality, she was 33. "And my little sister seems to be having trouble in your class. I was wondering if you might could just show me what you're doing in class, so I can help her do what she needs to do to pass."
Veronica was playfully biting her lip and giggling as she asked, playing the innocent young college girl role to perfection. She just wanted to help her little sister, you see.
"Oh, I see, who is your little sister?" He asked.
Veronica laughed, "Oh, Mr. Small, that question makes me feel so much better."
He looked confused, so she continued, "That means that lots of girls are having trouble, not just her."
"Oh, yes, well a few of them have had their grades drop. I guess it is Senioritis kicking in. Some girls just don't want to do what it takes to pass," he paused, then continued, "You know, this close to graduation." He responded. He thought his response was clever, but, he worried that he may have said too much.
Veronica was pissed; that comment pretty much confirmed that he was doing this to other girls as well as her niece, but she couldn't let on.
"Well, Mr. Small," she began with her head tilted down toward the desk. She seductively raised only her eyes, not her entire face, towards him and shyly continued, "Be assured that I will do whatever it takes to make sure my sister passes."
He was quiet for a moment; he couldn't decide if Lacey (as he knew her) was saying what he dreamed that she was saying or if she was innocently saying that she would tutor her sister or whatever.
In that moment of hesitation, Veronica knew that this predator had become her prey.
The almost evil smile that she couldn't help but flash went unnoticed by Mr. Small as Veronica innocently went on, "Can I ask you something, Mr. Small?"
"Sure, Lacey, what's that?" he asked.
"It could be a little embarrassing, I'm afraid." She replied.
