Pursued (7 page)

Jennie explained the relationship as best she could, then told him about the message they'd found on the mirror and how someone had later erased it. “I didn't think they'd reported it. I'd planned on calling you this morning.”

Donovan nodded as if he believed her. “Do you think B.J. wrote the message on the mirror? Her father seemed pretty certain.”

Jennie shrugged. “B.J. swears she didn't. I suppose she could have—you know, to get even.”

“Unless she just wanted the attention.”

Jennie glanced in the direction B.J. had gone, but there was no sign of her or her pursuers. “I suppose. She's sure getting plenty of that. To be honest, I've suspected B.J.'s involvement from the beginning. The only thing is, she'd have to be working with someone.”

“Jerry?”

Jennie shifted her attention back to Donovan. “I don't think she knew him before last night—and like I said, Jerry's straight. She could be working with Rocky, though.”

“The butler?” A smile stretched across his face.

He doesn't believe a word you're saying, McGrady.
He was probably just digging for information. Donovan reached up to rub his neck. He seemed tired, and Jennie wondered if he'd been up all night. She imagined poor Jerry sitting in a room being bombarded with questions from officers trying to make him talk. Maybe instead of giving Donovan information she should try to gather some from him. “B.J. told us Jerry confessed,” Jennie said. “Is that true?”

“Partly, yes. He admitted to sending Allison flowers mon three different occasions and to calling her last night. Denies knowing anything about the threats.”

Jennie drummed her fingers on the tabletop. A thought that had been scrambling around in her head finally settled to within reach. “Do you think it's possible that we're dealing with two people here?” Once the words spilled out, they made perfect sense. “Suppose Jerry's plan to send Allison flowers just happened to coincide with someone else's plan to stalk her? Isn't that possible?”

“Possible—yes, likely—no.”

To Jennie it seemed the only logical answer. “Why not?”

Greg shoved a hand through his already tousled hair. “My guess is the guy deliberately set us up—wants us to think there are two guys. It's an old trick. Probably figures we won't be able to pin the rest on him and he'll get off.” Greg shook his head. “He's even reading the Bible—as if that'll make us think he's basically a good guy. D.A. thinks we've got another religious fanatic. A lot of those nuts running around these days. Carry a Bible in one hand and an assault rifle in the other.”

Jennie squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. Could Donovan be right? Jerry openly declared his faith. His free use of Scripture and what she termed “God talk” had embarrassed her more than once.

Still, Jerry seemed so sincere. He was always helping people. Jennie closed her eyes, remembering the time not long ago when he'd given her and Lisa a ride home from a youth meeting. On the seat lay a brown, well-used, leather-bound Bible, but on a rack attached to the back window hung a hunting rifle. Still, deep inside, Jennie couldn't see Jerry Shepherd as a stalker.
But he's in jail right now, McGrady, and you helped put him there.

“You seem convinced Jerry is guilty,” Jennie said. “Why did you ask me what I thought?”

Donovan shrugged. “Just trying to cover all the angles.”

The sliding glass door of the patio shooshed open. Rocky stepped out and walked toward them. Ignoring Jennie and looking directly at Donovan, he said, “Mr. Beaumont asked me to apologize for the…uh, incident involving his daughter. He'll come down to the station later and press charges.”

“I'll be leaving then,” Donovan said. “Thanks for your help. Keep me posted.” He stopped at the door. “Oh, and, Jennie, your friend is being arraigned this afternoon at the county courthouse. Around one. He's second on the docket.”

After Donovan left, Rocky glanced at Jennie and smiled. “Looks like you're feeling better this morning.”

“I am. I've taken your advice. I'm singing a different tune. This one says Jerry isn't the stalker. Like I told Donovan, I think we're dealing with two different people, and I'm going to find out who the other one is.”

Rocky frowned and stroked his chin. “I wouldn't sing that song too loudly, Jennie, or you just might end up in an alley with your throat slit.”

If he'd meant to scare her he had, but she was determined not to show it. “Thanks for the advice, but I can take care of myself. I…think I'll go see how Allison and Lisa are doing,” Jennie stammered as she took a step back, then turned and walked slowly toward the house.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he called to her retreating figure. Jennie didn't look back. She could feel his eyes boring into her.
Nice going, McGrady. Why didn't you just tell him you suspected him at the same time so he could have killed you right then and there?
On the other hand, she decided, maybe telling him her plans hadn't been such a bad idea. She'd certainly gotten a reaction. The only problem now was how to read it. Had the strong response she'd gotten been meant as a warning from someone who cared? Or had it been a threat?

Once inside she broke into a run. She found Lisa and Allison near the window in her bedroom. Allison had been crying. Lisa looked worried. “We saw you talking to Officer Donovan. What did you find out?”

“Did they really charge Jerry with stalking?” Allison asked.

“Yeah.” Jennie twirled a strand of hair around her forefinger. “He's being arraigned this afternoon. I'm going down to see him. Give him his hat. See if there's anything I can do.”

“I'd like to go along,” Allison offered.

“Me too.” Lisa stood. “When?”

“About one. Um…there's something you need to know, Allison.” Jennie paused then added, “Jerry's admitted to sending you flowers and to calling last night.”

“No…” Allison closed her eyes. “It can't be true.”

“Are you saying he's the stalker?” Lisa asked, falling back into her chair.

“No, I'm saying he sent flowers and wrote the love notes. I think we're dealing with two different people here. I can't see Jerry sending dead flowers or making threats, and I'm sure he wasn't the one who pulled a gun on Lisa and me the other night. And if Jerry didn't do it, there has to be another guy.”

“Of course!” Allison said, looking relieved. Then casting Jennie a questioning look, asked, “He sent me flowers?”

Jennie sat on the arm of Lisa's chair. “Did you know he liked you?”

Allison rose from her bed and walked to the window. “I kind of suspected it, but…”

Jennie braced herself, thinking Allison might laugh at the idea.

Allison turned back to them. “I just never dreamed a guy as sweet as Jerry would ever care about someone like me.”

“You mean you like him?” The words had tumbled out before she could stop them.
And you accused B.J. of not being subtle.

“Why is that so hard to believe? I've had a crush on Jerry since junior high. I just never imagined…He's so outgoing and popular…to be honest I never thought I had a chance.”

Lisa gave Jennie her famous I-told-you-so look. Jennie relented. “Okay, I'll admit. I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what? What are you talking about?” Allison asked.

Jennie took a deep breath and started picking at the frayed edge of her cutoffs. “I was wrong about you, and I owe you an apology. When Lisa first asked me to help you, I didn't want to get involved. I thought you were a snob.”

Jennie sneaked a look at her cousin, who smiled and gave her a thumbs-up sign. “Lisa tried to tell me, but I didn't listen. Anyway, I'm sorry. If anybody is a snob, it's me. I jumped to the wrong conclusions.”

“Don't feel too bad, Jennie. A lot of people get the wrong idea about me—my dad says, ‘When you have money folks either hang around, hoping it will rub off, or find something wrong with you.' Anyway, don't worry about it. I don't think either you or Lisa are like that.” Allison heaved a deep sigh. “We've got a party to get ready for and…” Her eyes clouded. “The party. How can I even think about a party when Jerry's in jail? Maybe I should call it off.”

“No,” Jennie said. “Don't do that. If I'm right about the real stalker still being out there, he…or she may show up at the party. I'd like to talk to a few people—get their reactions. Oh, and speaking of reactions, you should have seen the rise I got out of Rocky.” Jennie filled them in on what Rocky had said. “Allison, tonight during the party I'd like to have a look in your dad's office. Is that possible?”

Allison's brow furrowed. “I don't know. Maybe during dinner. Daddy will be grilling hamburgers and hot dogs for everyone. He'll be busy for quite a while doing that.”

“Good. I'll eat early then go in. I'll need you to cover for me.”

While Lisa stayed behind to help Allison get ready for the party, Jennie went to look for B.J. She found her in the kitchen with Mrs. Beaumont. “Oh, hi, Jennie,” Mrs. B said cheerfully. “Come on in and join us. We're just making a vegetable tray for the party.”

“Be careful, McGrady, or she'll put you to work making radish roses.”

Mrs. Beaumont smiled. “Don't let her fool you, Jennie. She's loving every minute of this.”

“Right.” B.J. countered. “It's almost as much fun as cutting my toenails.”

Jennie eyed the “roses” lined up on the counter. “They look great. I wish I could stay and help, but I need to go home to change and run a couple of errands. I just wanted to see if you were okay, B.J., and tell you that I'm meeting Allison and Lisa at the courthouse this afternoon for Jerry's arraignment. Want to come?”

B.J. shrugged, set a finished radish aside, picked up another, and sliced into it. “Ask the warden.”

Mrs. B. came up to B.J. and draped her arm around the girl's shoulder. “This isn't a prison, sweetheart. It's a home.”

B.J. shrugged away. “Yeah, and the door's open. I can leave anytime I want. Like
dear Daddy
says, I have two choices—either stay here and follow his stupid rules, or I go to a foster home. Well there's one more option—the street—and right now that's starting to look pretty good.”

B.J. tossed down the knife and radish and walked out. The radish rolled across the counter. Jennie caught it as it fell off. “Well, are you coming or not?” she yelled after B.J.

“No!” B.J. yelled back. A few seconds later a door slammed. Jennie glanced at Mrs. Beaumont.

“I'm sorry, Jennie. Bethany is going through a lot right now.”

So who isn't?
Jennie felt like saying. Instead she made a suggestion that surprised even her. “I don't know if it would help, but maybe you should all see a counselor.”

Jennie could almost feel the frost settling on the room. “Thank you, Jennie, but I don't think that will be necessary.”

Jennie rummaged through her brain for a suitable exit line. Fortunately, Allison and Lisa came to the rescue, and Jennie was able to make her getaway.

Instead of going straight home, Jennie stopped at Crystal Springs, a large park-like garden near her home. She parked in the small lot, slipped a dollar into the donation box, and walked down the flower-lined path to a bridge that spanned a small lake and led to an island. Jennie found her favorite bench by the water and sank onto it.

She watched a couple of trumpeter swans lazily glide through the water. “You two sure have it easy,” she said softly, so as not to disturb them. “Want to trade places?” She smiled as one of the swans dipped its head. “I don't blame you. This case has more loose ends than a yarn shop.” She thought about all the possibilities and shuddered.

“Who is it, God?” she whispered. “Who's stalking Allison?” B.J. definitely had an attitude problem. Rocky was hiding something, and Jennie had a hunch it was more than his name.

A twig snapped. Rocky's words jammed into her brain.
You might find yourself in an alley with your throat slit. Or,
Jennie added,
in a park.

Jennie could hardly hear over the pounding of her heart as she rose and turned toward the direction of the sound. A squirrel scurried up the path, then disappeared into the bushes.
You're getting paranoid, McGrady. There's no one here.
Or maybe they just hadn't found her. The bench sat off the main path, hidden behind a thick grove of rhododendrons. One thing for sure, she wasn't about to wait around long enough to find out. Jennie hurried back the way she'd come, not stopping until she reached the parking lot. There, parked next to her white Mustang was a gray sedan.

She patted her pockets for the keys. Empty. Panic tightened its long tentacles around her and left her gasping for breath. She'd locked the keys in the car…with her phone. Jennie tried the doors. Locked. Why couldn't she just this once have forgotten to lock one of them?

Oh, God, what am I going to do?
The answer came in a split second.
Run!

Jennie reached the house in less than three minutes. No one was home. She tore around the back of the house and retrieved their spare key from under a large redwood planter and let herself in. A note on the counter told her Mom had gone shopping and Aunt Kate had taken Kurt and Nick to the zoo. She found the spare set of keys on their hook by the back door and started to return to her car, then stopped.
Not smart, McGrady. What if he's still there?
Jennie called the police and asked for Donovan. When they patched her through, she told him about the gray car. “I'll bet anything the stalker is there right now.”

“Stay where you are. We're on our way,” Donovan ordered.

After she hung up, Jennie threw her keys in the air and caught them.
Great job, McGrady,
she congratulated herself.
In a few minutes they'll nab the real stalker and you'll have solved another mystery. Well, sort of. At any rate, it will be over.
“I'll bet it's Rocky,” she mused.
Or B.J.…Or…

While she waited, Jennie raided the refrigerator. She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. It was 11:45. She retrieved a can of pop, a nectarine, a leftover chicken breast, then took her lunch out to the dining room where she could watch the street. She'd just taken a bite of chicken when Donovan and Mendoza drove up.

Jennie hurried out to the curb. “Did you find him?” Her words died as she noticed the empty backseat. “Did he get away?”

Officer Mendoza raised a dark eyebrow then turned to his partner. “Do you want to tell her or should I?”

“Go ahead,” Donovan said as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Mendoza shifted his attention back to Jennie. “The car was still there. Turned out to be an elderly couple taking a stroll.”

“Oh,” Jennie squeaked. “I thought…” A warm flush crept through her. She stared down at the tip of her shoe.

“No,” Donovan said gruffly. “That's the trouble, Jennie. You didn't think. You should never have gone into that place alone. What if it had been a stalker?”

“I'm sorry.” Jennie looked back into their car, being careful to avoid eye contact.

Mendoza gave her a forgiving grin. “We don't mind the false alarm so much, Jennie. That was an honest mistake. But next time you go out, take someone with you and leave your imagination behind.”

When they'd gone, Jennie entered the house feeling totally defeated. Donovan's reproof echoed in her head.
You didn't think.
It was true, she hadn't. Mom and Gram would probably have said the same thing—only they wouldn't have been as quick to forgive. But after the lectures they'd have sat down with her and had a cup of tea and talked about it until Jennie felt human again. Since neither of them was there, Jennie decided to make some peppermint tea anyway. Over tea and the rest of her lunch she tried to imagine how Gram would have reacted to her blunder.

“There, there,” she'd croon. “Don't take it so hard, my girl. We all make mistakes. Next time you'll know better.”

Would she? It had been a dumb move. She knew better than to go into the park alone, but she'd been preoccupied.

Jennie held the steaming mug in both hands, relishing the warmth. She took a sip of the warm brew and concentrated on the minty aroma and the way the steam caressed her face. Closing her eyes, Jennie imagined Gram sitting across the table. Salt and pepper hair framing a slightly wrinkled face and dark blue eyes.

Jennie paused to wipe away an errant tear. “Oh, Gram, I miss you. Hurry home.”

After cleaning up her lunch leavings, Jennie jogged back to the park to get her car. As she reached the Mustang, an older couple emerged from the garden entrance. Jennie watched them walk to the gray car. Must have been the couple Donovan and Mendoza had seen. Only it couldn't be. The gray car she'd seen had been parked right next to hers. Dread trickled through her veins like ice water.

“Excuse me,” Jennie called to the elderly man as he opened the passenger door for his wife. “How long have you been here?”

The man glanced at his watch. “Oh,” he rasped, “'bout thirty minutes…wouldn't you say, Mama?”

The woman nodded. “Takes us about that long to walk through. Do it every day. When you get to be our age, you have to stay in shape.”

Jennie smiled. Gram would like these people. “Did you talk to the police earlier?”

“Nope,” the old man answered. “Saw ‘em though. Looked like they were after someone.”

“Ummm…one more thing. When you came in, was there a gray car like yours parked over there, next to mine?”

The man drew an age-spotted hand across his mouth. “Don't recall that, but I did see a gray car. Just as we were turning in here. In such a hurry he ‘bout run us over. Headed back that way.” He pointed north.

Jennie let out the breath she'd been holding. Her house was four blocks south. She managed a thank you, climbed into her car, and drove back home. By the time she'd gotten to the house, Jennie had convinced herself that the man had not been after her. The gray car parked next to hers meant nothing. Metallic gray, newer model, Oregon plates. Thousands of people owned gray cars. It had been a coincidence. After all, if he'd been after her, wouldn't he have headed toward her house rather than away from it?
But what about the license plate, McGrady? How many gray cars have plates with two zeros at the end?

A memory of the stalker's phone call eased out of its cell and hung in her mind like a ghostly apparition.
Tell Allison she can't escape. Wherever she goes, whatever she does. I'll be there. And if you and that snoopy cousin of yours try to stop me, I'll get you too.

At that moment Mom pulled into the driveway and Jennie shooed the unwanted memory back into hiding.

“Oh, Jennie, I'm glad you're home.” Mom staggered through the back door with a bag of groceries and a box of laundry detergent the size of a football field. “You can help me bring in the groceries.”

“Oh goodie, my favorite thing to do.” Jennie grabbed the box and deposited it in the laundry room off the kitchen, then followed her mother out to the car and reached into the trunk for a couple of bags. “Whoa, what'd you do, invite the whole neighborhood to dinner?”

Mom laughed. “Not quite. Some of this stuff is for the camping trip. And Michael will be eating meals with us for the next few days while his landlord remodels his kitchen.”

The news excited Jennie about as much as eating raw liver, but she wasn't about to argue. Besides, the solution was simple enough. She'd just spend the next few days with Lisa. Even though the idea rankled, Jennie couldn't resist a jibe. “Mom, Michael's a guy—you know, a homosapien—not an elephant.”

“I know, I just wanted to be sure I had enough.”

They carried the groceries in and began stashing them. “I'll help you put these away, Mom, but then I've got to get going.” She explained about Jerry's arrest and arraignment.

Jennie pulled a couple cans of tomato sauce from the sack and stacked them in the cupboard. “I don't think he's the stalker.”

“That's what Michael says.”

“Michael?” Jennie paused. “What does Michael have to do with it?”

“Jerry called him last night after he'd been arrested. Michael's been working with him and his mother ever since—getting a lawyer, arranging bail. He told me about it when he came by for breakfast this morning.”

“He's a regular Clark Kent, isn't he? Bet he's got a great big
S
tattooed on his chest.”

“Jennie.” Mom frowned and tossed a bag of marshmallows on the counter. “That was uncalled for. Michael cares about people. Besides, like he told me, he's the youth director now and the kids need him.” Her voice trailed off.

“I know. But he's always around. A month ago I didn't even know Michael Rhodes, now I feel like I can't even brush my teeth without having him tell me when to spit.”

Mom tipped her head. “Isn't that a slight exaggeration?”

“Mom, the man actually signed me up for the youth retreat. Where does he get off?”

“You can't blame Michael for that. I told him you were coming with us. Michael just passed the information along to Jerry.” Mom heaved a sigh that seemed to come from her toes. “Don't fight me on this, Jennie. It isn't easy for me either. There are times when I'm so sure I've made the right decision to marry him. Other times…I just don't know.”

“You mean you're having second thoughts? You might not get married?” All of a sudden Jennie wanted to hear more. Outside she tried to look calm and concerned. Inside she was doing cartwheels and jumping up and down yelling,
Yes! Yes! Yes!

Mom tore open a bag of chips and ate one. “I don't know. I love Michael. I'm just not sure we're right for each other.”

“Why?”

Mom took the chips to the table, sat down, and slipped her shoes off. Jennie eased into the seat next to her. “It's hard to explain. Michael is the sweetest, dearest man I've ever known. He's thoughtful and considerate.”

She paused to nibble on another chip. “I suppose I'm being selfish. I don't mean to be, but lately he's been spending so much time at the church and with the kids. Oh, I know a new job takes extra time, but…I guess I'm afraid he's going to become so consumed by his work he won't have time for family.”

Jennie stiffened. Mom wasn't just talking about Michael anymore. She was criticizing Dad. Jennie started to object when her mother spoke again.

“I'm sure it will work out. At least he assures me it will. At any rate, since we asked you to set the date, I thought you should know. I, ah…” Mom got up and headed back to the groceries still littering the counter, but not before Jennie noticed the tears forming in her eyes. “I told Michael I wanted to wait for at least a year. I think I'll need at least that long, maybe longer. I don't want to make the same…Well, never mind. I know you're anxious to get to court so you'd better get ready.”

…Didn't want to make the same mistake again.
That's what her mom had started to say. Jennie vacillated between being upset with her for putting Dad down and rejoicing over the delay in wedding plans. She finally decided on being happy. As soon as she reached her room she picked up her dad's picture. “Looks like we got a reprieve, Pop. Now all I have to do is find you.” A voice from somewhere deep inside dampened her joy with a harsh reminder.
You may not find him, McGrady. And even if you do, there's no guarantee your mom will take him back. Or that he'll come home.

Jennie pushed the negative thoughts aside and glanced at her watch. One o'clock. Fifteen minutes later Jennie did one last mirror check—white tailored shirt, clean jeans, loafers, hair, eyes— “Yep, they're all there.” She grabbed her purse, keys, and Jerry's hat and headed downtown to the courthouse.

The arraignment process had already begun. Jennie slipped in through the double doors at the back of the courtroom. Lisa, Allison, and Mr. Beaumont were sitting in the second row behind Jerry. Two rows behind them were Paige and Eddie. Rocky sat on an aisle row to her left, three rows from the back. A lot of people for an arraignment, and Jennie had a hunch they weren't all there to lend support.

Not wanting to disrupt the proceedings by walking up front, Jennie took the aisle seat in the back row. It wasn't until the man next to her touched her arm that she realized she was sitting next to Michael. He smiled and leaned his head toward hers. “Jerry will be glad to see you. He needs all the support he can get.”

Jennie closed her eyes and nodded. Weird. That was the best word Jennie could come up with to describe her feelings at that moment. She wasn't angry at Michael for being there. She didn't feel annoyed that once again he'd interfered in her life. Actually, she was glad. Jerry did need all the help he could get. In fact, she didn't feel much of anything—except maybe thankfulness that Michael had been there for Jerry. Amazing what a little talk with one's mother could do.

“What's going on?” Jennie whispered as she watched two men in suits talking in hushed tones to the judge.

“I'm not sure. I think his lawyer is trying to get the case dismissed. That's going to be tough though. When the police searched Jerry's truck they found a tube of red lipstick and Mr. Beaumont's missing gun in the glove box.”