Gem Stone (8 page)

She opened the door and walked out, ignoring the bullish deputy standing outside the door.

***

Sheriff Danny Jerome watched Gem stride through the doorway, defiant, indignant and more than a little pissed off. She brushed past Ian without a change in pace. She was an interesting mix of traits. He'd spoken with John before the home had officially started running, wondering about the impact of that new element on the town. In the six months they'd been at John's house, there'd been not a bit of trouble from them. This mess was hardly their fault. Although, getting the truth out of them might not be so easy. All of them were distrustful. Suspicious. Edgy.

But he had to appreciate her sense of humor. Humpty and Dumpty, indeed.

John had given him the rundown on some of the kids, but Gemma Stone wasn't matching the description he'd heard.

"John. Does Gemma seem any different to you right now?"

His old friend ran a hand through his wild hair. "Different how?"

"Scared? Defiant? Worried?"

"She's exhausted. She's worried about Misty. The two are quite close." He paused then shook his head slightly. "I have to tell you, I've never seen her react to anyone like she did to those three men."

"In what way?"

"Scared. Aggressive. Defiant. In fact, all the kids took one look, made the same judgment call and tried their damnedest to get as far away from the men as they could…as fast as they could."

John shuffled lower in his seat and briefly closed his eyes. "She's a good kid who's had some bad luck in life, but I'd swear she's not involved in Misty's kidnapping."

"Not even for a lark? For attention?" Jerome couldn't help prodding further. Kids did the damnedest things for all the wrong reasons.

"Not Gem. She's the behind-the-scenes type of person. She bought a camera a little while ago. We allowed it, thinking it would give her a constructive hobby. Well, did it ever. She's on that thing all day and every day. But she hates getting her own picture taken. Won't talk to strangers, won't even open the door if someone knocks."

"Odd." Jerome wondered at the hidden history of events that created the young woman who'd stood so defiantly before him. "No trouble out of her?"

"None. She's a top student and is always busy with her schooling, basketball, or her camera." John leaned forward. "She's the first to help Doris with the cleaning, can't stand cooking, but will take a spider out to the garden rather than kill it. She's always friendly to any new kids, but won't tolerate any underhanded dealings. She's quite the little detective, actually."

"
Detective?
How do you mean?"

"Oh, just that she's curious. Always reading mysteries and watching them cop shows. If someone loses something, it's always her that finds it. If the kids have questions, she gets the answers. She gets on a problem and worries away at it until she finds the solution. She is tenacious. Finding Misty is a good example of this."

Jerome frowned. Curious teenagers were the norm, it went with the territory, but ones who liked to dig away at problems was a different story. He didn't want her getting into the way of his investigation and from the looks of things, she already was.

"Let's bring Mark in and see what light he can shed on this."

***

Mark waited for Gem to return. He'd figured they'd pick on her first. She'd been in the thick of things as usual. Then so had he.

The door opened and Gem sauntered out, wearing her best insolent look.
Uh oh.
He could tell things hadn't gone well...

"Mark Galloway. They'd like to speak with you now." The young deputy spoke from behind Gem.

Mark stood up, his gaze never leaving Gem's. She smiled reassuringly as she plunked down in her chair. "It's fine. They're just typical law enforcement."

He rolled his eyes as her. She giggled, making him grin too. He walked into the lion's den.

John gave him a tired smile and didn't shift from his slouched position. "Sorry, Mark. We all want to get to bed. As soon as we're done here, we can get going." He motioned to the seat in front of the sheriff.

Mark nodded then chose the seat he'd sat in earlier.

"So, Mark, please start at the beginning of the evening and tell us exactly what happened."

Speaking clearly, simply, Mark left nothing out. Well, almost nothing out. There was no point in bringing up Gem and Misty being out earlier. That would just get them all in trouble.

The retelling didn't take long. The big deputy stood inside the door and didn't say a word. He had a bored look on his face, almost a sneer. Despite the expression, he seemed to listen intently.

No, Mark didn't know who or why someone would kidnap Misty. No, he didn't know why Gem had taken such an antagonistic view of the strangers but he had as well. Yes, the men had initially refused to identify themselves when she'd asked. Yes, Dumpty had deliberately followed her to the bathroom. No, he didn't know why. Yes. The men had tried to stop them from leaving the house and no, while outside, the men didn't appear to search for Misty at all. The questions continued until he was damn sick of them.

But he knew better than to argue or to get belligerent. He'd always taken the middle road with authority. Answer when asked, offer nothing more and keep your nose out of trouble.

Simple.

When the sheriff finally fell quiet, Mark sat there and waited. He didn't fidget. He didn't fuss. He sat and looked back with a serene calm. He watched the sheriff purse his lips while staring at him. As if he didn't know what to make of him. That's the way Mark liked it.

Finally, the other man nodded. "Okay, good enough for now." He made as if to rise then sat down again. "One final question. What was your relationship like with Misty? Friends? Enemies? Lovers?"

That's the one he'd wondered if they ask. "Friends."

"Nothing else?"

"No." He was really proud of himself for keeping his voice steady and even. Misty and he were good friends. Theirs was a relationship that might build to something else – and might not. And lately he'd had to admit to himself, there was Gem. Prickly, irritating Gem had hooked his interest with an intensity that he knew had no intention of letting go.

"Fine. If you remember anything else, please let us know."

John stood and walked to the door with Mark. "Is it possible to go home now?"

"Let me talk to the others quickly. I can always come to your place again tomorrow to clarify some points, if need be."

John ushered Mark out and called Reid in.

Mark returned to the same room as Gem and sat at her side. Neither spoke. They didn't need to. Both knew ears were listening. The young deputy sat quietly beside them. In stoic silence they waited as the two other teens were moved through the interview process. As each came out, they took a seat beside Gem and Mark.

Finally it was over. Mark sighed.
Thank God.
He stood up and the others followed. John shuffled out, looking ancient and beyond tired. "We can leave."

The small group of kids brightened.

"About time." Gem snorted.

John was too tired to chastise her. "Let's go."

As they left the building, Mark glanced around the dark midnight sky. The building, the lot, even the street appeared deserted.

Nothing stirred.

"Eerie, isn't it?"

"Worse than that."

Gem sidled closer. "We're being watched?"

Mark nodded at her whispered words. He'd felt it too. "Do you think they searched the house while we were gone?"

She stiffened slightly. "Probably."

"Would they have found anything?" He gave her a sideways look. She widened her eyes in return. "Of course not. What's there to find?"

She brushed past him, her hand in the deep pouch of her hoodie. She pulled it out far enough he could see the hidden camera.
Smooth, very smooth.
Had she managed to get pictures of the three 'law' men? Knowing her, the answer was yes. Maybe with those, they could find out who the strangers really were.

He'd written down the make, model and license of their vehicle. It might not be enough, but between that and some photos, it was a start.

***

Gem stumbled to her bed. Exhausted beyond anything she'd known for a long time. She washed her face and brushed both her hair and her teeth then tumbled into bed.

And went still.

Her bed didn't feel right. The dips and curves were off. The hollows and humps no longer molded to her body. Very slowly, she turned on her lamp and stood up. Not only was her bed not right, neither was her room. That she hadn't noticed it right off, she put down to extreme fatigue. Her lip curled. She'd become such a softie that someone had invaded her space without her noticing right away.

Now she was awake. Alert.

She turned on her overhead light and stood in the doorway and studied her room. Everything was in place, sort of. Her laptop sat on her desk, the lid closed. But it wasn't in the same position she'd left it. Her jacket hung on the wrong hook. Her pajamas were tossed on her chair but not in the order she'd thrown them. Obviously her room had been ransacked in a quick, careless job – someone had been in a hurry.

She frowned.
Her flash drive.

Racing to her laptop, she turned it on…and realized the flash drive was no longer in the USB port. Had she removed it? She often did. Cautious by nature, it only made sense to take it out when not in use. She pulled her camera from her hoodie, now hanging on the back of the door.

Where else could it be?

She went over every place in her room. It was nowhere to be found.

Someone had stolen her pictures.

Grimly, she turned on her laptop. It took several nail-biting minutes for her login screen to show. Tapping in her password, she logged in.

"Shit." The folder in the center of her desktop, aptly named 'photos' was gone.

She checked the trash in case they just dragged and dropped them there. But of course not. That would be too simple.

But then, she didn't do anything the simple way, so why should they?

She went to her email and clicked on her sent folder. At least she'd selected the best and sent them to herself via email. She scrolled down her inbox. There were the ones she'd emailed for safekeeping. Downloading the files, she retrieved the latest set of photos. She opened them up in her picture program, after checking to make sure they were the right ones. Relief washed through her at the sight of the six photos she'd taken yesterday with Misty. They were there.

She sat back and stared at the different images.

What was so important about them? So important that someone came into her room and stole her flash drive, turned on her computer and deleted all pictures and her folder? They obviously hadn't expected her to have offsite storage, but that's what emailing it to herself had allowed her.

What secrets did these pictures hold that made them worth stealing?

***

Shit.
Pissed off didn't even begin to cover the gamut of emotions running through Fixer right now.

This job should have been simple. The specialists had cleaned up the chemicals. Had dug up the ground where the spill had taken place. The crew had come in the night of the accident and had it all done by morning. Now he'd gotten the job of keeping an eye on the place and taking water samples everyday and handing them over to the waste disposal company.

And more importantly, he was supposed to make sure no one knew.

So he'd hired his two cousins. They were from back east, visiting more family from just out of Portland. His cousins weren't the brainiest, but they did what they were told, and didn't ask questions. Sure it had been a hasty plan, pulled together within minutes.

Thank God this uncle had been in town. Once he'd understood the seriousness of the situation, he'd stepped in to be the big boss, but then stepped back until needed again. Said it had been fun.

Then again his uncle found his fun in odd things. He was a forger after all, with a rap sheet for everything from fraud to assault. He'd also provided them with the Environmental Protection Agency IDs.

He grinned when he thought of the price the company was paying. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could ditch this town in six months.

Now what the hell was he going to do with the kids? There were two problems here. One: Had the teens seen anything they shouldn't? Two: Had they been exposed to anything hazardous?

And if they had been, did it matter? The most recent water tests had all come back clear, now it was down to the kids. They were at risk. The company scientists had said anyone would show signs of exposure within the next few days, or not at all. Symptoms could start small like a skin rash over several days, or ulcers might form immediately. Each person was different.