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Authors: Patricia H. Rushford

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BOOK: Pursued
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11

Jennie wished she's thought their plan through more thoroughly. She should have had Lisa take her cell phone with her. An open line would have allowed them to hear the entire conversation. Oh, well, they'd just have to wait until Lisa came back.

For the next twenty minutes they watched an animated discussion between Rocky and Lisa. Lisa laughed, flirted, talked, and listened as Rocky—Jennie hoped—told her his life story.

At nine-fifteen, Lisa and Rocky both stood. She turned away from him and headed into the house. He watched her go.

“He's definitely interested,” B.J. said. “The jerk,” Jennie muttered.

“I should tell Daddy,” Allison said. “Maybe if he knew Rocky was flirting with one of my friends he'd fire him.”

Lisa bounced in, her eyes bright with excitement. “I did it. His real name is Robert. He's from Vancouver. He's twenty, single, and…” Lisa paused and sighed. “If I were allowed to date older guys I would definitely be interested.”

“Lisa,” she scolded, “you sound like you want to go out with him. He's a suspect, remember?”

“I know…but he's just so sweet, you know. I don't think he's the one. He doesn't seem like the criminal type to me.” Lisa's smile vanished. “I botched it, didn't I? You sent me out to get information and I come back with a hunk report.”

“You did great,” Allison soothed. “Probably better than any of us could have.”

“Right,” Jennie said. “We've got enough to do a background check—providing he told you the truth. Did he tell you his last name?”

“Kennedy. Robert…Kennedy.” Lisa's voice trailed off as she realized the joke was on her. She winced. “Oh, no…wait'll I get my hands on him…”

“We've been had.” B.J. made a fist and socked the bed. “Do you think he knows we suspect him?”

A sour feeling started at the pit of Jennie's stomach. She didn't want to think about the implications. “He might,” Jennie said, “but I don't think he'll do anything as long as we stick together. We'll keep an eye on him for now.” Later, Jennie decided, when everyone was asleep, she'd have a look in Beaumont's office and see what she could dig up. She thought about telling the others what she had in mind, then decided against it. Might be better to handle this one alone. In the meantime, they had another urgent matter to deal with.

“It's past nine,” Jennie said. “We should decide how we're going to handle Allison's visitor. He said he'd be by around ten.” The girls decided to wait on the patio off the guest room on the second floor where Lisa and Jennie were staying. Wisteria wove through the wood slats making a perfect privacy screen, allowing them to see anyone approaching the house. They'd no sooner gotten settled when they heard a motor and saw headlights turning into the driveway.

“Do you think it's him?” Allison had turned almost chalky white again.

“You can relax, Al.” B.J. leaned out over the balcony. “It's Paige…and Ed.”

Allison joined her sister at the railing. “Hi! We'll be right down.”

“No, don't bother,” Paige said. “We just had to come by and make sure you were okay, Allison. I—I'm sorry I didn't stay…I just couldn't…”

“It's okay.” Allison leaned over the railing. “I understand. Are you staying over?”

“Ah…no. We rented a movie. I'll be over in the morning.”

“Hey, Allison!” Ed popped up through the sun roof of Paige's yellow VW. “Paige told me what happened. Cops have any idea who did it?”

“No,” Allison said, “but I'm sure they'll find him.”

“Hope so, for your sake. Hey, if there's anything I can do, call me. See ya tomorrow.” He popped back inside and leaned toward Paige.

Paige gunned the motor, practically obliterating their goodbyes. They waved as they tore down the driveway, over the traffic bump, and bounced into the street. Jennie watched their taillights disappear, then turned back to the others.

“I can't see what Paige sees in him,” B.J. muttered. “He thinks he's God's gift to women.”

“Eddie's not bad,” Allison defended.

B.J. snorted. “Right. His ego's bigger than his brain. Besides, any guy who would make a hit on his girl's best friend is pond scum.”

“You have to admit, he is kind of cute,” Lisa added as she moved from the railing and sank onto one of the patio chairs. “All that dark, thick, curly hair and those gorgeous brown eyes. I could name a dozen girls right now who are dying to go out with him. I hear he kisses like a dream.” Lisa sighed. “If I wasn't going with Brad I'd be tempted to date him myself.”

“Don't get your hopes up,” Allison warned. “He and Paige are engaged, remember.”

“I'd have to side with B.J. on this one.” Jennie leaned back against the railing and rested her elbows on the ledge. “I bet I could name a dozen girls he's dumped who'd like to…” An approaching car cut her off. Jennie whipped around. She'd have recognized the old Ford truck anywhere. “Hey, that's Jerry Shepherd. What's he doing here?” Jerry, originally from Texas, lived in Battleground, just north of Vancouver. Jennie stared openmouthed as Jerry parked in the driveway and rang the doorbell. “Hi,” he said to whoever answered the door. “Is Allison in?”

That voice. He'd been the one on the phone earlier…Jennie was sure of it—well, almost sure. There were a lot of people with southern accents.

“Well, well, well,” B.J. said, mimicking his drawl. “Looks like we got us a stalker.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” Allison laughed nervously. “Jerry wouldn't hurt a fly.” She went to the railing and waved. “Jerry, come on in…we'll be right down.”

Lisa seconded Allison's assertion. “Jerry's president of our youth group at church. We've been friends for years.”

“Yeah, well what's he doing here now?” B.J. held up her watch. “It's exactly ten p.m.”

Jennie was wondering the same thing.
You're imagining things, McGrady. Jerry would no more stalk Allison Beaumont than rob a bank. He's the nicest guy, next to Ryan, that you know. He's your friend, for Pete's sake.

He's also tall, with blond curly hair and blue eyes and a cowboy hat. He fits Tricia's description.
Before joining the others, Jennie scanned the grounds. She'd called the police earlier and reported the strange phone call.

Apparently they hadn't paid much attention, for she saw no sign of them. Rocky had just finished watering the front lawn and was heading back into the house. He stopped and glanced around as well. As if sensing her presence, he looked up. Their gazes locked. Jennie felt an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach. Dread, foreboding, fear? She swallowed back whatever it was and stepped inside, then hurried downstairs to catch up with the others.

Jerry stood as they entered the living room. He'd taken off his black cowboy hat and was shifting it from one hand to the other. He ran a hand though his hair and stepped toward them. “Jennie, Lisa…Allison,” he said their names slowly, nodding his head at each of them as he shook their hands. “And you must be Bethany. Heard a lot about you.”

“I'll just bet,” B.J. mumbled.

“Have a seat.” Allison took his hand and led him into the large family room. Once they were all seated he lowered his lanky frame onto the arm of the sofa. “Ah…sorry to be callin' so late,” he drawled. “But I wanted to talk to y'all before the weekend.”

When no one responded, he cleared his throat. “Um…today is the last day to register for the overnight hiking trip on the Lewis River. We leave early Saturday morning. None of you had registered so I thought I'd come over and remind you.”

Jennie groaned in relief. “That's why you came? Then it wasn't…” She'd started to ask about the phone call and the flowers and realized how ridiculous she'd sound. “I'd forgotten all about it.” She'd planned on going, but with Michael taking over as youth director, she'd decided not to.

“I went ahead and wrote your name in, Jennie. Michael told me you were going.”

Jennie clenched her teeth together so hard she thought her jaw might break. She wanted to scream.
How dare he try to run her life?
Jennie didn't argue. This wasn't the time. She'd deal with Michael .later. “Well, then,” Jennie said, hoping she sounded normal, “I guess that's settled.”

“I'm going,” Lisa said. “Brad will, if he doesn't have to work. My folks too—Michael asked them if they'd come along as chaperons.” She wrinkled her nose. “It's going to seem more like a family picnic than a youth retreat. Allison, why don't you and B.J. come? You'll have fun and it would take your mind off…you know.”

“Oh, why not,” Allison said. “Count me in. With all that's been going on, I wasn't sure I'd go, but maybe a camp-out would be relaxing…”Allison smiled at Jerry, and Jennie could almost feel the sparks between them. Jerry and Allison? No way. The cowboy and the princess. Jennie tried not to smile as she imagined the two of them together. Denim and lace…It worked with clothes, maybe it could work for people as well.

Nah. Jerry wasn't Allison's type—he lived on a farm with five brothers and sisters. The family didn't have much money. Even if he liked her, she probably wouldn't…Jennie tried to stop the path her thoughts had taken, but they plowed through her like a runaway train. Jerry knew about guns…he'd talked about going hunting with his dad.
You have to admit it, McGrady, if he's interested and she's not, you've got motive.

Her mind shifted back to the phone call she'd intercepted. Had it been Jerry? Jennie tried to replay the voice in her head. Yes. No. She couldn't be sure. Tomorrow she'd call Tricia again—maybe take a picture of Jerry along. As much as the idea disturbed her, she had to know.

When she tuned back in to the conversation, Allison and Jerry were trying to talk B.J. into going. “You'll have a great time,” Jerry promised. “The Lewis River is fantastic. We'll be going by some great waterfalls.”

“That part sounds okay,” B.J. admitted. “I just don't want anybody trying to shove their religious ideas down my throat.”

“We don't do that,” Jerry assured. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, still turing his hat.

“I can't promise we won't talk about God—we want everyone to know about Jesus. In the evening we'll have a Bible study around the campfire. We usually get into some serious discussions about religion and politics. Sometimes kids give their testimonies—you know, talk about how God has helped them. But you don't even have to go to that if you don't want to. Mostly, we're just out there to have a good time.”

“He's right, B.J.,” Lisa said. “Our retreats and camp­outs are a lot of fun. You'll love it.”

B.J. finally agreed to go. While Lisa and Allison listened intently to Jerry's instructions on what to bring, B.J. leaned toward Jennie and whispered, “This will give us a chance to keep an eye on this bird.”

“He's not the stalker,” Jennie whispered back, then pretended to be absorbed in what Jerry was saying.
You've been wrong about people before, McGrady
, a voice in her head persisted. On one hand Jennie couldn't believe that Jerry had anything to do with the terrible threats. On the other, she knew from experience that people were not always what they seemed. Did Jerry have a dark side that drove him to the insidious behavior of a stalker?

Jerry had no sooner hopped into his truck when two police cars with sirens blaring pulled up behind him. Two officers jumped out of the first car, while three others appeared from their hiding places behind the house and shrubs. All had drawn their guns. Jennie hadn't even known they were there.

“You in the truck! Come out with your hands up,” a voice boomed.

Jennie watched transfixed as Jerry emerged from the cab with his hands raised. “What's goin' on?”

An officer whipped him around and slammed him up against the cab. His hat fell to the ground. Jennie clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She felt like she'd been slugged in the stomach.

“No!” Allison screamed at the officers who'd now frisked and handcuffed him. “Wait! You're making a mistake. Jerry, I'm so sorry!”

Allison and Jennie raced toward the truck. Mr. Beaumont and Rocky stopped them.

“Daddy,” Allison pleaded as she grabbed his arm. “They've made a terrible mistake. Jerry didn't do anything.”

“What's going on here? Why are you holding this young man?” Mr. Beaumont shouted.

Greg Donovan and an officer Jennie didn't recognize stepped toward them.

“Daddy, please.” Allison was near tears now. “Make them let him go.”

Beaumont cleared his throat. “Why don't we go inside and see if we can clear this thing up.”

“I'm afraid we can't do that, sir,” Donovan said. “We have reason to believe this young man has been stalking your daughter.”

12

Jennie made the mistake of meeting Jerry's eyes. They were full of questions and hurt.
You set him up, McGrady. He didn't have a chance.
Donovan put him in the back of their squad car, then turned to talk to Jennie. “Thanks for the tip. I'll be out in the morning to give you a report and get your statements.” Donovan smiled and ducked into the car.

When the police had gone, Mr. Beaumont headed for the house with Allison still hanging on his arm, pleading with him to do something. Rocky followed mutely behind. Jennie scrunched down and retrieved Jerry's hat, brushed off the dirt, and tried to reshape it. It faded in a blur of tears and Jennie brushed them away.

“Why are you crying?” B.J. asked.

Jennie shrugged. “I'm not sure. It's the hat-they stepped all over it—acted like they didn't even know it was there.”

“So what? It's just a hat.”

“Not just a hat,” Lisa answered softly. “Jerry's dad gave it to him for Christmas last year. He's worn it ever since.”

“Like I said, so what?”

Jennie lifted her gaze to meet B.J.'s. “Jerry's dad had cancer. He died on Christmas Day.”

“Oh.” B.J.'s eyes softened with understanding. “I guess we'd better get it back to him.”

Long after the others had gone to bed Jennie sat in a lounge chair and stared into the dark pool. Tears filled her eyes for the hundredth time, and for the hundredth time she wiped them away.

She sensed a presence before she heard his voice. “It's kind of late for a swim.” Rocky hunkered down beside her and offered her a box of tissues. “Want to talk about it?”

Jennie didn't know if it was the moonlight, or the numbness, but all of a sudden it didn't matter that Rocky had been one of her main suspects or that she barely knew him. His voice was soft and low and Jennie needed to tell someone.

“I betrayed him,” she murmured. “Jerry is my friend and I set him up. I never should have called the police.”

Rocky moved into the chair beside her. “Why did you?” he asked, his voice still gentle.

“I had too. The call might have been from the real stalker. He might have intended to hurt Allison.”

“So you did the right thing.”

“I guess, but then why does it seem so wrong?” Not really expecting an answer, Jennie leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “All I see is Jerry looking at me. He didn't even know what was happening. He didn't have a clue.”

“If he's innocent, Jennie, they'll let him go.”

That's what you're afraid of, isn't it, McGrady?—that maybe they won't let him go. That they'll find evidence to convict him.

“I'll never forget the way he looked at me.” Somewhere in the night her mind had rummaged through her memories and dredged up the story of Judas betraying Jesus. She expressed her thoughts aloud.

“It's not the same,” Rocky said.

“I keep telling myself that, but the picture keeps coming into my mind.”

“It doesn't do any good to keep torturing yourself. You've got to let it go.”

“I've tried. It's like a tune that pops in and you can't get it out.”

“Then maybe you need to start singing another song.”

After a long silence, Jennie sat up and swung her legs off the lounge chair. What Rocky had said made a lot of sense. She would stop beating herself up over Jerry's arrest and search for more evidence—something that would prove his innocence—or his guilt. Rocky had his eyes closed and for a moment she wondered if he were sleeping. His dark skin almost glowed in the subdued lighting. What a strange man. Tough, intense, yet warm and compassionate. He had so many sides and some of them just didn't fit.

She remembered what Lisa had said earlier. He'd given himself a phony name. Was he putting Lisa on—teasing her—or lying? With everything that had happened Jennie hadn't had an opportunity to check Mr. Beaumont's files on Rocky. She'd remedy that tomorrow.

As she stood, Rocky opened one eye. “Feeling better?” Despite her suspicions about him, Jennie felt grateful that he'd been there. “Yeah. Thanks for listening. I think

I'll be able to sleep now.”

Allison came to Jennie and Lisa's room at eight-thirty the next morning to summon them for breakfast on the patio near the pool. A cloudless day had already warmed away last night's chill. Jennie just wished it would warm her inner chill as well.

“Where's B.J.?” Jennie asked when they joined Allison at the glass-topped, white patio table. Jennie dropped into a padded chair and poured herself a glass of orange juice.

Allison shrugged. “She was gone when I went in to wake her.”

“Hi, guys.” B.J. stepped out through the open patio door and approached the table. “Heard the news?” She glanced around at each of the girls. “Guess not.” B.J. dropped into the vacant chair next to Jennie, picked up a slice of toast, and proceeded to drop a teaspoon of jam on it.

Jennie was beginning to feel like an overstretched rubber band. She leaned back in her chair trying to look calm. No way was Jennie going to let B.J. know she was getting to her.

“The police are here right now talking to Dad about Jerry.”

Allison threw her napkin on the table and pushed her chair back. “Relax, Al,” B.J. said as she poured a glass of juice. “Dad said he'd be out in a few minutes.”

“Did they tell you anything?” Lisa asked.

B.J. took the newspaper from her lap and placed it on the table. “Yeah,” she said. “Looks like you were wrong, McGrady. Jerry's been charged.” Allison stared at her hands.

Lisa shook her head, sending her red mane flying. “No…I refuse to believe it. Jerry couldn't have made those awful phone calls. He couldn't…” She grabbed Jennie's arm. “Remember? The night before last? The guy in the Murrays' driveway. That couldn't have been Jerry.”

“I don't know.” Jennie didn't want to believe in their friend's guilt either, but she felt certain the call she'd intercepted the day before in Mr. B's den had been from Jerry. And it didn't take a mind reader to interpret his feelings for Allison. Would his frustration at not being able to date her push him to such extremes? Jennie rubbed her forehead.

“Well, I do.” B.J. reached over and grabbed a second piece of bacon and took a bite. “I overheard the cop say they had a positive I.D. from the florist. He also said that Jerry admitted to sending the flowers. And get this—one of the neighbors said she noticed his truck cruising by just about every day.”

Allison stood up. She had that fragile look again—like her world could crumble at any minute and she'd crash right along with it. “I don't want to hear any more. I'm going to my room.” She covered her mouth to catch an escaping sob and ran into the house.

Lisa scooted back her chair and dropped her napkin on the table. “I'd better go with her.” Jennie resisted the urge to follow Lisa and Allison inside; she needed to stay and talk to Donovan.

“Sheesh!” B.J. rolled her eyes in disgust. “A little over emotional, wouldn't you say?”

Jennie turned back to B.J. and took a deep breath. “You know, B.J., you're about as subtle as a rockslide. Allison has been through a lot. She could use a little sympathy. Jerry's our friend. Even if he turns out to be the stalker, which I doubt, you don't have to act so happy about it.”

B.J. shrugged. “Trouble with you, McGrady, is that you're a poor loser. You just can't admit that I'm a better detective than you are. I had the guy pegged the minute he showed up here. He has the hots for Allison.” B.J. huffed and added, “There's no way she'd ever go out with that cowboy. I figure he means to get her one way or the other. I remember reading this story about a guy that killed his ex-wife. Said if he couldn't have her no one else could either.”

Jennie suppressed the urge to pour the rest of the orange juice on B.J.'s head. “I wouldn't be giving any victory speeches yet. Besides, I thought you suspected Rocky.”

“I did, but that was before I saw Jerry.”

Jennie would have liked to throttle her, but took a bite of toast instead. It all seemed like a big joke to B.J., and she was a little too quick to blame Jerry for all of this. Maybe she's trying to keep your attention off her.
Yeah, McGrady, but at least be honest with yourself. What bothers you most about B.J. is that you were thinking exactly the same thing.

The girls finished their breakfast in silence. B.J. drained the last of her juice and set the glass down. “Why don't you think Jerry's the stalker? I mean, look at the evidence against him.”

Before Jennie could answer, Beaumont, Rocky, and Greg Donovan approached the table. “Judging from what my daughter just said, I take it she told you about the Shepherd kid.”

Jennie nodded.

B.J. slouched arrogantly in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “She doesn't think he's guilty.”

“Really,” Donovan said, smiling down at Jennie. He lowered himself into the chair Lisa had vacated. “Why's that?”

“A hunch.” After she said it she felt embarrassed. Mr. Beaumont looked at her as if he were indulging a six-year­old child with a dumb idea. Rocky just folded his arms and stood there with an expression that reminded her of a guard dog ready to pounce at any second.

Donovan, however, seemed interested in what she had to say, so she tried to ignore the others and went on. “It doesn't add up. Jerry's one of the nicest guys in school. And he's not stupid. If he were going to stalk someone, he wouldn't order flowers from a place near where he lives and show up in person so the clerk could identify him. With the trail he left, my five-year-old brother could have tracked him down. Besides,” Jennie continued, “he's not the same guy who pulled a gun on Lisa and me the night before last.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Jerry has an accent. The gunman didn't. Jerry never goes anywhere without his truck. The gunman was driving a gray sedan. Then there's the message on the mirror—he couldn't have done that.”

“Mirror?” Donovan frowned.

So they hadn't called the police. Jennie opened her mouth to tell him about it when Rocky stepped forward. “An incident that happened yesterday afternoon—Beaumont doesn't think it's connected to this case.”

Jennie felt her face and neck grow hot. How could he say that? She glanced over at B.J., who was not taking the news well.

“Not connected?” B.J. scrambled to her feet. Her chair scraped against the concrete pad. “What do you mean?” B.J. clenched her fists. “You think I…” B.J. swore and backed away.

Beaumont stepped toward her. “Bethany, it's okay, honey, I understand. Really.”

“You don't understand anything. I should never have come here. I-I hate you!” B.J. spun around and ran across the lawn.

Beaumont tore out after her with Rocky at his heels. To Jennie's surprise, Donovan remained seated. He rested his arms on the table and shifted his gaze to Jennie.

“Want to tell me what that was all about?”

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