Depth Perception (25 page)

"I think it was Jason. He was right down the street just a few minutes ago. The guy in the car looked a little shady. I just thought you might want to check it out."

For the first time, impatience and annoyance entered her expression. "I don't know what you're up to, Ms. Jennings, but you did not see my son."

"Are you sure? The little guy looked just like him." Nat held her hand up to her chest "About this high. Brown hair . . .

"My son is in the hospital. He's having an appendectomy. I stopped by the house to pick up some pajamas and toys for him."

Going to kill hem. In big danger. Help him.

Nat jolted when the words flickered in her mind's eye. The utter certainty that she was not wrong about the boy being in danger pressed into her like a physical force. But now that she'd been caught in a lie, she didn't know how to get through to this woman without alarming her.

"Look, Mrs. LaRue, I don't mean to alarm you, but I think you ought to check on your son."

"Check on him?" For the first time, the woman looked startled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just to make sure he's safe."

"Safe? What are you talking about? Why are you saying that?" But she was already reaching for the phone.

"Please, don't be upset."

Paulette's face was red, her eyes revealing alarm and anger. She punched numbers into the phone with a shaking hand. "Jean!" she cried over her shoulder. "
Jean!
"

The last thing Nat wanted was a confrontation with Jean LaRue. Three years ago he'd been ruthless in his quest to get her indicted for a crime she hadn't committed. He hadn't pulled any punches in attacking her, and his tactics had played a major role in the ruination of her reputation.

"Mrs. LaRue, please try not to get upset--"

"Don't tell me not to get upset." The other woman began pacing the foyer. clutching the phone, her glare never leaving Nat. "How can I not get upset when you barge in here, intimating that something has happened to my son?"

"What's going on here?"

Nat looked past Paulette to see Jean LaRue striding toward them, his expression leery and decidedly unfriendly. "Paulette, what's she doing here?" he demanded, his gaze sweeping from his wife to Nat.

Paulette clutched her husband's ann. "I'm calling the hospital," she said.

"The hospital? What happened?"

She pointed at Nat. "She claims something happened to Jason."

"What?" He shot Nat a killing look, his eyes filled with anger and disdain and maybe even a little fear. "What did you say to her? Why would you say such a thing?"

"I didn't mean to upset her. It's just that . . . I thought I saw your son down the street, talking to a stranger, and I became concerned."

"Is that some kind of sick joke?" Jean demanded. ''Who are you to be concerned about one of our children?”

"I'm just trying to help." Nat felt sick. This was exactly what she hadn't wanted to happen. All she wanted now was for Mrs. LaRue to reach the hospital so she could be assured that the boy was safe.

"That's bullshit.  My son isn't even in the neighborhood."

He snatched the phone from his wife. "Hello? This is Jean LaRue." Someone must have answered because he spoke quickly and forcefully. "I need to know where my son is. No, I won't hold on. Check on him. Right now. I'll wait." His lips formed a thin line for a moment as he listened. "He's fine? You're sure?" He nodded brusquely. “No, everything's okay. We just . . . thought something might be up. Can you post a nurse in his room until we get there? I know it's unusual. Yes, I'll be happy to speak with the hospital administrator. Just do whatever it takes." He glared at Nat. "Under no circumstances is Natalie Jennings to be anywhere near my son. I'll get a restraining order as soon as I can," Sighing with impatience, he spelled her last name. "She threatened him. Yes, you can bill me for private security. Great. His mother and I will be there as soon as we can."

Relief made Nat's legs go weak. The boy was all right. He wasn't in danger. She hadn't been too late ....

She started when LaRue slammed the phone down on the console table. The look he gave her was cold enough to freeze steel. "I don't know what in the hell you're trying to pull, but you're not going to get away with it." He looked at his wife. "Call the police."

Dread coiled inside Nat, a rope being drawn into a tight knot. "Mr. LaRue, I don't want any problems. I was just trying to be a good citizen and follow up--"

"A good citizen doesn't waltz into someone's home and start making wild accusations about their children being in harm's way," he said between clenched teeth. "How dare you?"

"I didn't mean any harm.”

"Or maybe you just don't like the way I did my job three years ago."

"No, that's not why I came here."

"You implied that our son had been hurt!"

"I implied no such thing. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.” Because she couldn't go into detail without opening herself up to questions she hadn't the slightest clue how to answer, she cut herself off without elaboration. "I was only trying to help."

"The children in this town are better off without your kind of help." His eyes went flat.
“
Stay away from my kids. Stay away from my wife. And if you want to stay healthy, you had better stay the hell away from me."

Trying desperately not to let his words affect her, Nat raised her hands and backed slowly toward the steps. "Okay, I'm leaving."

Paulette stepped onto the porch, still carrying the phone. "The police are on the way."

Jean didn't acknowledge his wife. Instead, he followed Nat across the porch, then down the steps. On the sidewalk, he grasped her arm hard, jerked her toward him. In an instant, he went from loving father and husband to a man willing to inflict violence in order to keep his family safe. "Listen to me, you crazy little bitch."

Nat gasped when he squeezed, her only thought that she'd never seen a human being make such a profound transformation so quickly.

Out of earshot of his wife, he raised his finger and shoved it in her face. "I'm going to get a restraining order against you, so don't even think about trying to pull this shit again. You got that?"

Nat broke away from him and ran toward her car. Tears stung her eyes as she fumbled with her keys. She told herself she'd done the right thing. She'd had to either act or deal with the consequences. There was no way she could handle having a child's death on her conscience. She couldn't blame the LaRues for being suspicious of her motives, for not believing her. The most important thing was that Jason LaRue was safe.

But the hatred she'd seen in Jean LaRue's eyes hurt. He'd looked at her the same way he'd looked at her three years ago. As if she were a piece of scum. A killer. A woman evil enough, insane enough, to murder her own child.

Nat reached her car and flung open the door. Sliding behind the steering wheel, she stuck the key in the ignition and started the engine. When she looked up, police lights danced in her rearview mirror. Damn. Damn.
Damn.

For an instant she considered putting the car in gear and driving away. But she knew that would only make things worse. She couldn't escape this. Even though she hadn't done anything wrong, they were going to have questions. Questions she had no idea how to answer.

Heart pounding she sat with her hands on the steering wheel while the deputy walked up to the car. From where she was sitting she couldn't see his face. He was holding his flashlight in his left hand, his right hand hovering above the pistol strapped to his belt. "Evening."

Another layer of dread settled over her when she recognized the voice. Then Matt Duncan leaned close to her and shone the light in her eyes. "Nat Jennings," he said. "I thought it was you."

"Hi, Matt."

"Why don't you turn off the car and step out to talk to me for a moment?"

Even though he'd phrased it as a question, Nat knew he wasn't asking. It was an order. And unless she wanted to spend the night in jail, she'd damn well better comply. Matt Duncan wasn't known for being diplomatic.

"All right."

"Nice and slow." He opened the door for her and stepped back.

Nat rolled her eyes as she slid out of the car. "You want my hands up, too?" she asked dryly.

"That won't be necessary." Just to let her know he was in charge, he shone the light in her eyes. "I want you to walk over to my cruiser with me. Then you're going to stay there while I talk to the LaRues. You understand?"

"I understand," she said. "But I didn't do anything."

"That's the tenth time I've heard that tonight." Taking her arm, he guided her to the rear of his cruiser. "Put your butt on the bumper and don't move it. If you do, I'll cuff you and put you in the car. You got that?"

"I got it." Nat did as she was told and watched Duncan hitch his belt and take the stone path to the porch where .Paulette and Jean were standing, looking as if they'd just had a close encounter with a well-armed Bonnie Parker. Nat couldn't hear what they were saying, but Jean motioned in her direction several times. Some of the neighbors had noticed the police lights and ventured onto their porches to see what all the commotion was about. Police lights in their neighborhood obviously meant something unsavory was afoot.

Humiliated and frustrated, Nat could do nothing but stand there and let them speculate. After several minutes, Matt came back down the walk and approached her. "You want to tell me what you were thinking, walking up to those people and telling them their son was in danger?"

"I didn't say that," Nat said.

"That's what they told me." He stopped several feet from her and put his hands on his hips.

 "I just told them they should check on their son, to make sure he was okay."

"Did you have some reason to believe either of their children were in harm's way?"

Nat thought about the story she'd devised, and even though it was thin--stupid even, now that she'd had some time to think about it--she decided she was already vested and should stick with it. "I thought I'd seen Jason down the street, talking to some strange guy in an old car."

"A strange guy in an old car, huh?" His tone made it clear he didn't believe her any more than the LaRues had. "Exactly where did you see this strange guy?"

"At the comer of Fifth and Vine."

"A block away?"

“That's right."

"What kind of car was it?"

"An old Chevy, I think. Maybe an Impala."

"Huh. Haven't seen a vehicle like that around Bellerose."

He hitched up his trousers again and shot her a sour look. "How did you get that blood on your shirt?"

She glanced down at the dozen or so droplets of blood. "I had a bloody nose earlier."

"How did you get a bloody nose?"

"I bumped it."

"Uh huh." He stared hard at her. "Do you have any idea how much you upset the LaRues?"

“I have a pretty good idea." She rubbed her arm where Jean had grabbed it.

"Jean seems to think you've got some kind of vendetta against him because of what happened three years ago. Is that true?"

"I know he was just doing his job. Honestly, I just wanted to make sure their kids were all right."

"Do you have any idea how strange that sounds, Nat? Considering the circumstances?"

She looked away, nodded.

"Have you been drinking alcohol tonight?"

Her gaze snapped to his. "No!"

"Are you on any kind of medication?"

"No."

"A doctor's care?"

"No." She pinched the bridge of her nose, shook her head. Jesus.

He sighed. "I'm going to write this up as a neighbor dispute. No citation for you. But you're going to have to stay away from Jean and Paulette. You got that?"

Nat nodded. "Loud and clear."

"He's going to file a restraining order against you. You violate that, and you're going to jail."

"I won't bother them again," she said.

He didn't say anything for a moment. "I don't believe you really saw a guy in a Chevy. I don't know why you'd make up a story like that, but you did, didn't you?"

Nat knew better than to admit to a lie. This was one of those rare moments when a lie--even a bad one--was a better alternative than the truth. "I'm telling the truth,” she said.

"Uh-huh."

For a moment she considered asking him to keep an eye on the LaRue children, but she figured such a request at this point would do more harm than good. Besides, Jason was in the hospital for an appendectomy. What harm could come to him there?

"Can I go now?" she asked.

"Next time you see something suspicious, call the police," he said.

Nat started for her car without responding. She could feel Matt's eyes and a dozen more follow her as she opened the door and slid behind the wheel. She told herself their disdain didn't bother her; being an outcast was nothing compared to the hell she'll been though in the last few years. She could handle it.

But as she pulled onto the street, she acknowledged the pain. And she vowed that if it was the last thing she aid, these self-righteous jackasses were going to know Nat Jennings was not a murderer.

#   #   #

He sits in the front seat of his SUV in the parking garage of the hospital, shaking with rage. The window is down and his labored breaths echo off the concrete walls around him. His heart pounds adrenaline and fury through his system.

He doesn't know how she did it, but the bitch has foiled his plans. But how could she have known? He'd been so careful, waiting until just the right moment. He'd been meticulous in his planning, right down to the tiniest detail. Jason LaRue would have been so satisfying. So brilliant. He would have been the one that set him free.

He'd been moments away from killing Jason LaRue when the deputy had arrived with his shiny badge and six shooter. Stupid, stupid cop. He'd listened to the conversation between the cop and the nurse and that was when he'd realized Nat Jennings was behind the added security. That she'd made some kind of weird threat against Jean LaRue's son.