Pursued (8 page)

“Someone framed him,” Jennie told Officer Donovan when she caught up with him on the courthouse steps. “And I can prove it.” She dug through her oversized leather bag and produced a plastic bag containing the lipstick she'd found in Allison's bathroom. “I don't know where the tube came from that you found in Jerry's truck, but this is the one that was used to write the message on Allison's mirror. I…um…I meant to give it to you yesterday and forgot.”

The corner of Donovan's mouth twitched as though he were trying to keep a straight face. “Quite the detective, aren't you? Even bagged it. Unfortunately, it doesn't prove a thing.”

“But I found it…”

“Jennie…” Donovan ran a hand through his hair and stroked his head as though he were trying to stimulate his mind for the right words. “I believe you. It's just not the kind of evidence that would hold up in court. Who's to say you didn't just buy it to help your friend out? Now, if you'd turned it in right away it might have made a difference.”

Jennie winced. “I meant to, but…I guess it doesn't matter. I blew it.” Jennie handed him the bag. “Couldn't you at least check it for fingerprints?”

Donovan took the bag and examined it. “Probably wouldn't do much good. It's hard to get good prints off something like this.” He lowered his arm. “Besides, it's not the lipstick that will convict your friend. It's the gun.”

“But if someone planted the lipstick, doesn't it make sense that the gun was planted as well?”

“I'm sorry, Jennie—for you and your friend. It's always hard to accept the fact that someone you know has committed a crime. But as far as the department is concerned the case is closed.”

Jennie started to tell him about her discussion with the elderly couple and the other gray car, but didn't. He wouldn't have believed her anyway.
The investigation may be over for you, but as far as I'm concerned it has only just begun.
Jennie hadn't made the statement aloud, but Donovan seemed to have heard it anyway. “Don't be doing anything foolish, Jennie.”

Jennie glared at him and walked away, pausing at the last step. She glanced up at the courthouse doors, wondering whether or not to go back inside. The judge had released Jerry into Michael's custody and had set bail at $10,000. As soon as the papers were signed and the bail bond paid, Jerry would be free to go home. She wished they'd hurry.

The sound of muffled voices caught her attention. Donovan and Rocky were standing near the corner of the building. Jennie paused for a moment to watch them. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but their gestures and the scowl on Rocky's face told her they were arguing. About what? At that moment Rocky's gaze caught hers. The anger in his eyes flickered and died like the blaze on a birthday candle. Jennie glanced away.

When she looked back Donovan was walking toward the parking lot, and Rocky had joined the group coming out of the courthouse. Allison appeared first, with Jerry on one arm and her father on the other. Lisa and Michael came out right behind them, then Paige and Eddie.

“Daddy, please,” Allison pleaded. “Let me stay and talk to him for a few minutes.”

“I'd rather you came home with me.”

“I'll be fine.” She glanced around. Her gaze settled on Jennie. “Jennie and Lisa will bring me home. I'll be safe with them.”

Mr. B looked at Jennie. The weariness and indecision in his eyes startled her. “It's okay, Mr. Beaumont,” Jennie said, hoping she was doing the right thing. “Lisa and I will see that she gets home okay.”

Mr. B nodded. “All right, but don't be too long.” He moved along the step to where Rocky stood and started talking to him in hushed tones. He was probably telling Rocky to make certain they got back okay, Jennie decided. She made a mental note to talk with Mr. B. later, then turned her attention back to the others.

Jerry had somehow extricated himself from Allison's grip and was shaking Michael's hand. “Thanks. I don't know what I would have done without your help.”

Michael pulled Jerry into an embrace and patted his back, then released him. “Just glad we were able to get you out.”

“I'll pay ya'll back…I mean it. You too, Eddie. If you guys hadn't come up with the bail money…I don't know what I'd have done. Mom needs me at the farm and…”

“Hey, man,” Eddie said as he squeezed Jerry's shoulder, “what are friends for? You've come through for me plenty of times on the court.”

Jennie frowned. While Eddie and Jerry had played basketball together, she'd never noticed them being especially close. Had something happened recently to change that? Looked like she'd be asking a lot of questions at the party tonight.

“Eddie…” Paige tentatively touched his sleeve.

“We have an appointment, remember?”

Jennie caught a brief look of annoyance in his features, but by the time he'd turned to face Paige, they'd softened.

He glanced at his watch. “We'll make it.” He reached out to shake Michael's hand. “Been thinking about what you said yesterday, and…well, me and Paige decided we'd like to go to that retreat your church is having.”

Michael pumped Eddie's hand. “That's great. I know you'll have a good time.”

When Paige and Eddie had gone, Jerry turned to Jennie. He smiled broadly. “See you brought my hat.”

Jennie glanced down at her hand. “Yeah. Thought you might need it.” She plopped it on his head and reached out to hug him. Behind the cheerful attitude and ready smile, Jennie could read the worry in his eyes. She squeezed his hand to let him know she understood.

Allison took Jerry's arm again and drew him away as if laying claim to him. Jennie smiled at that. Allison didn't need to worry about her.

“Jerry,” Allison said, “I want you to come to the party tonight.”

“I don't know if I can. I got a lot of work to do at home. Besides, parties aren't exactly my thing.”

“Please come. I'd really like you to be there.”

“But what about your dad? He's been really nice…even helped with the bail money. Michael talked to him, but I don't think he trusts me.”

“Well, I do.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Call me later.”

“I hate to break this up, kids,” Michael said as he rested a hand on Jerry's shoulder. “We'd better clear out of here before they arrest all of us for loitering.”

Since the police were still holding Jerry's truck, Jennie offered him a ride home. “I'll take him,” Michael insisted. “I need to talk with Mrs. Shepherd about some things.”

A few minutes later, Jennie buckled her seat belt and put the Mustang in reverse. “I take it you and Jerry got things straightened out,” Jennie said to Allison's reflection in the rearview mirror.

Allison nodded. “Lisa and I came in to see him after you left this morning. He explained what had happened.” She paused to tuck some glistening strands of hair behind her ear. “I feel so awful. I can't imagine why he'd get the idea I wouldn't like him. Do you guys really think I act like a snob?”

“Of course not,” Lisa soothed. “It's just because you're shy. Jennie has the same problem.”

“What do you mean?” Jennie's defenses sprang to attention. “I don't have a problem.”

“Sure you do,” Lisa said, lifting her heavy curls off her neck. “Well, it's not a problem exactly. It's just your personality.” Lisa laughed and turned back to Allison. “Gram says I'm a social butterfly. She calls Jennie an eagle because she's more cautious.”

Jennie pulled out of the parking space and eased into the traffic. Now that she knew where Lisa was going with it, she played along. “Which simply means I usually get to know people before I make a fool of myself, whereas my dear cousin here…”

Lisa playfully socked Jennie's arm. “Which means,” she corrected, “you avoid talking to people you don't know very well, they think you're either a snob or that you don't like them.”

Jennie eyed Allison in the mirror again. She'd apparently tuned out their banter. “Allison?” Jennie asked. “Are you all right?”

“What?” Allison made brief eye contact then looked away. “Oh…I'm okay. Just worried about Jerry. I know he hasn't done anything wrong. But how in the world are we going to prove it?”

Allison's question burrowed itself in Jennie's mind like a stubborn tick.
You've solved mysteries before,
she kept reminding herself,
you can solve this one as well.

Since the party was scheduled to start at four-thirty, the girls had barely enough time to get ready. The party had basically two stages. The first part included talking, swimming, and a barbecue. Later, around seven-thirty or eight, they'd go up to the guest bedrooms, one set up for the boys, the other for the girls, and change into dress clothes for a formal candlelight dessert. The Beaumont's had hired a local band to provide the entertainment.

Jerry arrived at four. Since Allison was busy helping set up the pool area, Jennie let him in. “I wasn't going to come,” he admitted, “but Michael talked me into it. Said it might be good for me-take my mind off my troubles. He took me home and helped me do some chores, then brought me back.” Jerry held up a garment bag and guitar case. “Allison told me to bring these. Where do I stash ‘em?”

Jennie led the way to the boys' guest room and opened the closet door. “You're lucky, Jen,” he said over his shoulder as he hung up his clothes.

“Me?”

“Yeah. Your mom marrying Michael and all. He'll make a great stepdad.”

Jennie couldn't think of anything to say. Her usual caustic thoughts didn't come, and that bothered her. Was her attitude toward Michael changing? Was she starting to accept him?
No,
she reasoned.
You just don't have to worry about him anymore. The more Michael gets involved in his work, the less likely Mom will be to marry him.
Jennie smiled. “Yep. He's a regular Clark Kent.”

When she took Jerry back downstairs, Allison practically tackled him. After introducing him to her mom, she put him to work carrying trays of food out to the tables they'd placed around the patio. From four-thirty to five a steady stream of kids poured in. Jennie stopped counting at thirty. According to Allison, during the course of the evening they'd have about a hundred—too many people for Jennie to deal with at one time. She fought back the urge to go home by reminding herself she had people to talk to and a certain file to read.

After playing volleyball and cooling off in the pool, Jennie went in to change out of her suit. When she came back downstairs she caught Mr. Beaumont coming out of his office.
Perfect timing, McGrady. Talk to him.
Right—but what would she say?
Hey, Mr. B, I'm investigating your daughter's case. Wonder if we could have a chat.
No, that wouldn't work. She couldn't let him know what she was doing. He'd probably kick her out. Jennie wished she could talk as well to others as she did to herself. She held up a hand to stop him. “Mr. Beaumont.” Well at least she'd gotten that much out. “I was hoping to get a chance to talk with you.”

“Sure, Jennie. Come on into my office.”

He showed Jennie into an office that had the same rich wood as his den downstairs. He directed her to a wing­backed chair the color of dried blood.
Dried blood?
Where in the world had that macabre description come from? Probably one of the mysteries she was always reading. Or maybe the spooky darkness of this room.
Stop it, McGrady.
“Nice room,” she said, glancing around to familiarize herself with it.

Mr. B went behind his desk and stopped at the window. In an instant the vertical shades opened, slicing away the darkness. “That's better,” he said, moving back toward her and sitting in the maroon chair beside her. “Now, what can I do for you?”

Jennie contemplated several openings, then settled on, “I heard you helped post bail for Jerry today. I wanted to thank you. He's a good friend.”

Mr. B. nodded.

“You must be sure he isn't the real stalker.”

“I'm not sure of anything, Jennie.” He sighed. “Allison and Michael are convinced. The boy has no criminal record. He's been an exemplary student; so I guess until or unless the police prove otherwise…” His sentence faded.

“I believe in Jerry too—at least I want to,” Jennie said, “but I can't help wondering about the evidence they found in his truck. That was your gun, wasn't it?”

“Yes, from my collection.”

“Any idea who might have taken it?”

Mr. B. tipped his head and cocked an eyebrow. “Why all the questions?”

Jennie dug her fingers into the chair arms. Should she tell him the truth and risk getting thrown out, or should she feign simple curiosity and risk the same? Earlier she'd suspected Mr. Beaumont; now her intuition told her he was just as much a victim as Allison. Drawing in a deep breath, Jennie decided to tell him the truth. “This might sound kind of strange, Mr. B, but Allison asked me to help find the stalker.”

“Allison…you?” he sputtered.

“Wait a second, Mr. B., let me explain.”

“This better be good.”

“I'm not a private detective or anything, but I plan to study law in college…let me put it this way. My grandfather, Ian McGrady, was with the FBI. So was—is my father. My grandmother, Helen McGrady, used to be a police officer. Ever since I was a kid, she and I would take cases from the paper and try to solve them before the police did. Gram taught me a lot. Anyway, I've solved a couple of real cases…”

“And you think you can solve this one?” Mr. B looked even more weary. “I'm sorry, Jennie. You're only a child. I can't let you jeopardize your life, or the investigation, by letting you get involved in something like this. We're dealing with a stalker here. A man threatening murder. I know you want to help, but if you insist on playing these detective games, I'll have to ask you to leave.” He dragged his hand down his face. “Allison asked you to help?”

Jennie nodded. “She said you weren't taking this seriously. She was afraid…”

“Not taking…” He shook his head in disbelief. “I told her there was nothing to worry about because I didn't want her to be upset.” Returning his gaze to Jennie, he said, “I'm sorry she dragged you into this. I'll have a talk with her. The police are doing an adequate job. Now I suggest you go back to the party and have fun.”

“All right, but can I make a suggestion?” “What's that?”

“Have the police check out Rocky. I suspect he's working under an assumed name. He gave Lisa a fake name.”

“I'm afraid your detective skills aren't as finely tuned as you seem to think, young lady. You're wrong about Rocky. I check out all my employees. His references are impeccable.” Mr. B. glanced at his watch. “Was that all you wanted?”

His words had cut deep, but Jennie tried not to let it show. “I did want to ask how B.J. was doing. After this morning…I mean…she seemed pretty upset.”

Pain flickered in his eyes, and Jennie saw the same weariness she'd witnessed on the courthouse steps. He rubbed at his brow.

“Never mind,” Jennie began, “it's none of my business. I shouldn't have asked—”

“No, it's okay. There's no point in hiding it. You'll find out soon enough anyway. Bethany's gone. She's at Children's Services waiting for placement in a foster home.”

“Oh, no.” Jennie leaned forward and rested her hand on his arm. “I'm so sorry.” It had been an automatic response, but the moment Jennie realized what she'd done she slowly pulled her hand away.

He didn't seem to notice. “My wife said you'd suggested we see a counselor. Looks like we'll be doing just that. Just hope it's not too late.”

“B.J. will come around. She just needs time to adjust. It hasn't been that long since her mom died. My dad's been gone for five years and…”
Its different, McGrady. Dad's not dead.
“Just trust me, Mr. Beaumont. It takes a long time.”

As Jennie left his office an outrageous idea began to form in her mind.
Oh, no, McGrady. You don't really want to do this. The last thing you need right now is another project.

Underneath all the objections Jennie heard another stronger voice.
B.J. needs a friend. Maybe you can help.

She'd had experience with this particular voice before. Gram said it was an inner voice—God's Spirit in us, prompting us to do good. Jennie wasn't sure about that. All she knew was that the voice didn't give up easily.

She picked up the phone and called Michael, then told him about B.J., briefly filling him in. “I was just wondering if you'd go see her, talk to her. And…um…Michael, tell her if she wants she can stay with us for a while. That is, if it's okay with Mom.”

“There, I've done it,” she muttered to the persistent voice as she hung up the phone. “I hope you're happy.”

Despite her reservations, Jennie could feel a warm glow start from somewhere deep inside and work its way out. Jennie made her way back to the party. It took her several minutes to spot Lisa, Brad, Allison, and Jerry at the far end of the pool. She began weaving around the bodies, and about five conversations and updates on several good friends later, Jennie finally reached her goal. “Hi, Jennie.” Allison grinned and motioned for her to sit in the empty chair between her and Lisa. “Daddy's about to put the hamburgers on.”

“Great, I'm starved.” Brad patted his stomach. “You're always starved,” Lisa teased as she poked him in the stomach. He jumped to his feet, whisked Lisa out of her chair, and dumped her in the pool. A couple of seconds later Lisa surfaced, sputtering, “Brad, you come back here. I'll get you for that.”

Jennie laughed. “She will, too. I'd watch my back for a while if I were you.” The words brought some not so distant memories tumbling into her mind. She remembered the fun she'd had with Scott in the pool at Dolphin Island. Longing filled her—for the easy companionship they'd enjoyed.
It would be fun to have Scott here.
It would be even more fun to have Ryan.
Face it, McGrady. You'd just like to have a date.

“You okay?” Lisa laid a dripping hand on Jennie's shoulder.

Jennie brushed the memories away. “I'm fine. At least I was until you got me all wet.”

You don't have time for men. You've got work to do.
Jennie had planned on eating before going into Beaumont's office, but the mounting anxiety over what she was about to do had obliterated her appetite. Mr. B had called Rocky a fine, upstanding citizen. If that were true, Jennie was a washout as a detective. Her instincts told her Rocky—alias Robert Kennedy—or whatever his name was, was hiding something. And she intended to find out what.

Jennie glanced around. “Where's Rocky?” Even though Mr. B was occupied, Jennie did not want to chance running into the object of her investigation.

“I saw him over by the grill talking to Daddy a few minutes ago.”
Now?
Allison mouthed.

Jennie nodded. “I hope you guys don't mind, but I need to talk to Lisa and Allison alone for a sec.”

“Go ahead.” Brad turned to Jerry. “You turning out for football this year?”

“Hope to…” Their voices faded as Jennie walked away. It amazed her how quickly guys could shift from girls to sports.

In hushed tones, Jennie told them about the conversation she'd had with Allison's dad. She didn't mention what she'd learned about B.J. There'd be time enough for that later. Besides, Jennie had a hunch their parents hadn't told Allison, and she didn't want to be the one to break the news.

“I'm going to see if I can find Rocky's file, then I'm out. Shouldn't need more than about fifteen, twenty minutes. I shouldn't be doing this, but I have to know.”

Lisa and Allison promised to keep Rocky and Beaumont out of the house to give Jennie the time she needed to find and examine Rocky's personnel file.

Just as she reached Mr. Beaumont's office, the doorbell rang. Jennie debated whether or not to answer, then realized she'd better or someone would come in to answer it. She swung open the door. “Paige. Eddie.”

“Sorry we're late.” Eddie's voice was tight and clipped.

Paige stepped in behind Eddie, her lips pinched so tight they looked like they'd been glued shut.

“Don't worry about it,” Jennie assured them. “They're just starting the hamburgers.” Jennie was no expert on human nature, but it didn't take a psychiatrist to see they'd been arguing. Under Paige's carefully applied makeup, Jennie could make out the pasty complexion and the telltale puffiness of a first-class cry.

She pretended not to notice as she told them where to put their things. Jennie watched them mount the steps and disappear down the hall, and couldn't help wondering if the “appointment” Paige had mentioned earlier that afternoon had anything to do with their distress. The word
pregnant
passed through Jennie's brain, but she dismissed the idea. Paige had too much going for her to fall into that trap.

Jennie deliberated over whether or not to wait for them to come down before going into Beaumont's office. They made the decision for her. After only a few seconds they descended the stairs hand in hand. Eddie rubbed his stomach. “I smell food. Lead me to it.” Paige laughed and made all the appropriate sounds as they joined the others. Whatever had been bothering them had apparently been tabled.

Jennie closed the sliding glass door. That way she'd hear anyone coming in while she was in Mr. B's office.
Quit stalling, McGrady. Let's get this over with.
The office was closed but not locked. She opened the door slowly and slipped inside. Jennie paused to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Mr. B had closed his blinds again. Having watched him earlier, Jennie quickly found the chain and carefully opened them a crack. Long strands of light shivered across the desk and up the bookshelf.

Jennie took a deep breath and turned on the computer. In the silence it sounded more like the roar of a jet engine than the purr of an office machine. Once the screen appeared, Jennie pulled up the directory roots and branches and scanned the list. She tried a directory titled “Employee” and found a list of names.

Getting into the directory was easy; finding Rocky's file proved more difficult. There was no listing under Kennedy. Now why didn't that surprise her? On a hunch Jennie tried the r's. Roberts. She accessed the file. Roberts, Edna. Scratch that.

Rochester, Rockford…Rockford-Rock-Rocky.

Jennie retrieved the file. “Bingo,” she murmured. Rockford, Dean; Nickname: Rocky; Age: 20. At least he'd told the truth about that. Male.
No kidding.
Address: 2218 E. 3rd St., Vancouver. She stared at the screen, committing the address to memory.

Shhhh. A soft brushing sound alerted Jennie. The sliding glass door. Someone was coming.
Don't panic, McGrady.
It's probably one of the kids.
Jennie tried to concentrate on the computer screen. Just a few more seconds. Click. Jennie's head snapped up at the sound. The door opened.