by Lisa Jackson
Who are you to criticize—think about your own daughter. Cassie’s not exactly an angel.
Jenna unlocked her Jeep and slid inside.
She’d just pulled out of the parking lot when her cell phone jangled. She picked it up and eased down the street. “Hello?”
“Mom, can you pick up a pizza?” Allie asked.
She smiled at the sound of her younger daughter’s voice. “You know, that would be a good idea. If the pizza parlor’s open.”
“And can I go to Dani’s?”
“Now?” She glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty. “Isn’t there school tomorrow?”
“I mean after school. Tomorrow.”
“You have piano lessons I think, depending on the weather.”
“I hate piano lessons.”
A picture of Blanche in her beret and boots galloped through Jenna’s mind. The woman was a couple of steps beyond odd. “How about on Friday, if it’s okay with Mr. Settler?”
“Oh, you’re supposed to call him.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah—he called.”
“When?”
“Uhhhhh…after you left.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call him back and we’ll get things straight about the weekend,” she said as she pulled up to a stop sign, then looked down the street. “Hey, you’re in luck. Martino’s is open. What would you like?”
“Pepperoni.”
“And—?”
“Just pepperoni.”
“Okay, put Cassie on the phone and I’ll see if she wants anything else.”
“She’s in the shower.”
“Pepperoni it is,” Jenna said. “I’ll be home soon.”
Jenna clicked off her cell and pulled into the snowplowed lot, where she parked between a black van and a red pickup with tires so big it could have entered in one of those monster-truck competitions. Music was blaring from the speakers, a bass thrumming so loudly that even though the windows were only barely cracked, the hip-hop song vibrated through the air. Three boys wearing backward-facing baseball caps sat inside the king cab, laughing, talking, and smoking.
One of the kids was Josh Sykes.
Jenna’s good mood evaporated. She considered confronting him right then and there, but decided against it. Humiliating him in front of his friends would serve no purpose. Biting her tongue, she hiked the collar of her ski jacket tighter, hurried inside, and ordered her pizza and a Diet Coke.
While waiting for the pizza, she took a seat in one of the empty booths and sipped her soda. Two other booths were occupied, but no one so much as glanced in her direction. Anonymity, she thought, savoring the feeling of freedom it brought.
Within minutes, Josh and his friends, carbon copies of each other, sauntered in. Jenna’s peace of mind dissipated immediately.
One of the boys, dressed in baggy jeans, serious gold chains, and a jacket three sizes too big, leaned an elbow on the counter and tried to flirt with the girl taking orders; another propped himself against the windows and stared outside as if he were waiting for someone, and Josh, spotting Jenna, had the good sense to quit joking around. Their gazes clashed and she thought she saw his Adam’s apple bobble a bit before he donned his usual I-don’t-give-a-crap-about-anything demeanor.
She supposed she should leave well enough alone, but she couldn’t. Not when an opportunity like this dropped into her lap. Leaving her soft drink sweating on the table, she sauntered up to Cassie’s punk of a boyfriend. “Hi, Josh.”
He didn’t respond until she was standing directly in front of him. “Hullo.”
“How are you doing?”
A wariness flashed in his eyes. He didn’t trust her friendliness one bit. So maybe he wasn’t as stupid as she’d thought. “Fine. Just gettin’ a pizza.”
“Me, too.” She glanced at his two friends, who had turned to face the confrontation. “Why don’t you come over to my booth where we can talk. I’ll buy you a soda.”
“I’m, uh, not thirsty.”
“Then just come over for a few minutes, okay? Since we’re both here waiting. It’s a little like fate, wouldn’t you say?”
He didn’t. Just followed her to the table while his friends tried to swallow their smirks. Jenna didn’t care. She was trying to keep her cool, knew that flying off the handle would only make him defensive and angry, and those emotions, running rampant in a kid his age, would only serve to make him want to prove her wrong and go against whatever law or threat she laid down. So, despite the fact that her blood was boiling and she wanted to wring his scruffy neck, she motioned him into a seat and sat opposite him. “You’re sure you don’t want anything?”
“Nah.” He looked down at his clasped hands. Set them on the table. Almost like he was praying.
“Okay, so here’s the deal. I know you care about Cassie and she cares about you.”
He looked up to see if she was joking. She wasn’t.
“So it seems to me that you’d want to take care of her, kind of protect her.” She had to force the words out; they clogged her throat because the last thing she believed in was a man protecting a woman. And Josh was the least likely white knight she’d ever come across.
“Yeah…” he said tenuously, as if he didn’t believe what he was hearing.
“So, I’d think that you’d want what’s best for her and, you know, asking her to sneak out and go to the scene of a crime and then drink and use drugs…it’s just not the best thing.” She tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of her words, but a little slipped through.
“We weren’t doing anything wrong,” he said, then caught the warning look in her eye and changed his tack. “We wanted to have some fun, that’s all.”
“I know.” She said it as if she believed it. Josh’s problem was his lack of imagination, of coming from a family that didn’t give a damn about him, and boredom at the prospect of what was the rest of his life, though he couldn’t seem to see beyond the signposts of this small town. “But the kind of fun where you’re doing dangerous things, or chancing being arrested—that’s not what’s best for Cassie. Or for you. Look, I’m going to be honest here, okay? I was really angry at Cassie and at you, but I’m trying not to go off the deep end and do anything that all of us would regret.”
He glanced up again and she held his gaze steadily, made sure he understood her intent, that beneath her empathetic words, there was a veiled threat. Josh needed to know that legally she had the upper hand and that she knew it. “So let’s all try to work this out. Come over to the house. Visit Cass. Take her out, but no more sneaking out, okay? It’s just not safe and I’m sure the last thing you would want to do is compromise Cassie’s safety and well-being.”
“Yeah…but…”
“Pizza for Hughes,” the girl behind the counter said, and Jenna rose quickly.
“Thanks, Josh,” she said, leaving her barely touched soda and an astounded Josh in the booth. She forced a smile that would have won her an Academy Award on Josh’s two friends, then scooped up the cardboard box and left Martino’s.
So she’d had a run-in with Josh; she was certain it wouldn’t be her last.
CHAPTER 22
Snow was falling again, blowing in windy swirls.
Jenna managed to climb into her rig and start the Jeep’s engine. Once she’d reversed out of Martino’s parking lot, she chanced another glance at the window of the pizza parlor. All three boys were now staring at her through the cold, frosty glass. No wonder she’d felt their gazes drilling into her back.
With a wave, and a smile as fake as fool’s gold, she drove away. “Horny, self-involved idiots,” she muttered through her plastered-on grin, then silently chastised herself for being a fraud. Yet she’d always lived by the credo of catching more flies with sugar than vinegar, so she didn’t beat herself up about being two-faced. “A means to an end,” she reminded herself, and the end was Cassie’s safety and well-being.
As she passed the courthouse, a three-s
toried, yellow-and-brown brick building constructed nearly a hundred years earlier, she glanced at the glowing windows, picked out the one that belonged to Carter, and noticed the lamps were burning. Of the few cars parked in the lot, she picked out his Chevy Blazer. So he was still on the job. She’d heard that about him, that he worked around the clock, that ever since his wife had died he’d thrown himself into his job. Local gossip had it that his wife was the victim of a one-car accident that had occurred during another harsh winter, but Jenna tried to temper every rumor she heard as being embellished over the years.
She flipped on her wipers, as the snow was coming down steadily now. Fiddling with the radio, she was hoping to find a weather report and instead landed upon a static-riddled Jimmy Buffett tune that conjured up hot sand, tropical water, and frothy drinks.
It sounded like heaven.
She hummed along. Her cell phone rang and she expected that Allie, whose patience was sometimes close to nil, was calling and checking on the pizza. She flipped open her phone and saw an L.A. phone number.
Robert.
Her stomach dropped as she answered. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jen.” Robert’s smooth baritone was interrupted by static. “I hear…we…trouble…Cassie called…and…”
“Robert, I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up.”
“…damned cell…call…” His words were spotty and crackled.
“Can you hear me?”
“…breaking…”
“Yeah, you’re breaking up, too. I’ll call you back…when I get home to a land line. Got it?”
“…Cass…”
“I can’t hear you!” she shouted as she reached a sharp corner and slowed down without hitting the brakes. The tires slid and she swung wide, into the oncoming lane. “Damn!” She dropped the phone and it slid onto the floor. The pizza carton, too, careened onto the passenger-side floor mats.
Adrenaline shot through her system as she tightened her grip over the wheel and rode out the slide, swerving as she eased back into her lane, where the tires slid again. “Oh, God,” she whispered as she shifted down, slowing the engine, feeling the tires try to grip. The cell phone crackled. She let it die and concentrated on the road, an icy ribbon of asphalt.
Snow was falling harder now, and she carefully flipped on the wipers. The cell phone rang again. She ignored it. Robert could call back or not. She didn’t really care. She just needed to get home in one piece. Besides, she was used to being a single parent. It had been nearly a week since Cassie had been caught sneaking out and her father had finally deigned to return her call. What a guy!
She had the Jeep under control finally, but her blood was still pounding, her nerves stretched tight as the road dipped and curved, edging ever closer to the Columbia River, a fierce, dark snake of frigid water tumbling madly through the gorge.
She couldn’t wait to get home, to stoke the fire, to bite into a piece of tangy pizza topped with stringy cheese and spicy pepperoni.
Maybe she’d take a bath and read the paperback she had at her bedside.
Headlights flashed in her rearview mirror.
Thank God. At least she was no longer alone. Some other idiot was driving along this isolated stretch of road winding by the river. It was comforting somehow.
She glanced back, squinting as the vehicle behind her accelerated fast, its headlights on high beam, blinding as they drew near.
Jenna took the next corner. The vehicle—a truck?—lagged behind as she took a corner, then straightened out.
On the straightaway, things changed. Quickly. The vehicle behind bore down on her. Fast. Too fast for the icy conditions. “What in the world?” Jenna lightly touched her brakes. A warning for the driver to back off. No such luck. Bright headlights dimmed off and on, flashing back. As if it were some kind of game.
The driver was messing with her? When the roads were freezing? But that was crazy.
Heart pounding with fear, she thought of Josh Sykes. Had she embarrassed him in front of his friends and now he was getting his jollies by scaring her half to death? This was nuts. The car behind was so close, its headlights blinding. Jenna slowed down, hoping the guy would take a hint. No. He just hung on her bumper, begging for an accident.
“Cretin,” Jenna muttered, beginning to sweat. She thought of all the warnings about predators who intentionally rear-ended a woman alone in a car to force her to pull over. When the potential victim took the bait and stopped, hopping out of her car, intent on reaming the guy out and offering to exchange insurance information, she was abducted at gun-or knife-point, to disappear or be found later, raped or dead.
Don’t panic!
Jenna’s jaw tightened.
She thought of the note she’d received, of the feeling she couldn’t shake that she was being watched, of the horrible fact that one woman’s body had been found in the mountains and another local woman had gone missing.
Stop it. This is just some idiot kid—probably Josh and those jerks he calls friends.
She licked her lips and glanced again in the mirror. Fear pounded through her bloodstream. Hang in there. Be smart.
But the guy just kept coming.
She accelerated.
He kept up with her.
Trees and mile signs flashed by.
She slowed down.
Felt a bump.
Her bones jarred.
“No!” She gripped the wheel but the Jeep’s tires slid.
Oh, Christ!
Another car, driving the opposite direction. Jenna flashed her lights madly, but it flew by. Where could she go? Anywhere she pulled in, he might follow. No, she couldn’t stop.
Bam!
He hit her again. Harder this time.
“Son of a bitch,” she growled as the Jeep started to spin. She started to put on the brakes, then eased into the turn, feeling the wheels grip as her heart beat crazily.
Think, Jenna, think. Are you going to lead whoever it is back to your house?
The sheriff’s department was in the opposite direction and she didn’t have enough gas to make it into Troutdale…oh, God…She wasn’t far from the turnoff to her home, and the cell phone was in the car, though out of reach on the floor of the passenger seat beneath the pizza box. She couldn’t risk reaching down for it.
But the moron behind you doesn’t know you dropped it.
She could fake him out. Maybe.
Thinking she was out of her mind but praying her ruse would work, she took her right hand off the wheel and fished through her purse. With one eye on the road, she retrieved her small black garage door opener and held it in front of her, pretended to punch out buttons on her “phone,” then held the palm-sized gadget to her ear. Hopefully the guy with his intense headlights would see what she was doing, yet not realize she was faking it. As she drove, she nodded, moving her mouth, making up a fake conversation, and sweating bullets.
Maybe the driver of the vehicle behind her was just a bad driver.
And maybe pigs really do fly.
She glanced in her rearview mirror again.
Was it her imagination or had the truck slowed down?
Dear God, please.
She swallowed hard. The turnoff to the county road that wandered past her house was less than a mile away. She was still pretending to talk on the phone as the road wound down a hillside. Still the vehicle behind her lagged. “Good, you bastard. Back off,” she said into her garage door opener. Around a final curve in the road, and the Jeep slid only slightly before straightening.
She glanced in the mirror.
Nothing.
No headlights.
Yet.
She punched the accelerator, expected to see the glare of the vehicle at any second.
But the darkness of the night surrounded her.
She reached the turnoff to the county road alone.
No headlights followed, and though she turned off the radio, she heard no sound of another vehicle’s engine over the rumble of her Jeep.
>
Had whoever was following her turned off?
Or was he following her without headlights?
That’s ridiculous.
Yet her skin crawled at the thought, and she squinted hard into the rearview mirror.
Hadn’t she thought someone had been watching her from the belltower of the theater? Could that hidden someone have left the building, watched her drive to the pizza parlor, and followed her? But why?
To terrorize you. Just like he did with the note.
“But he’s gone,” she said, then realized she was talking to herself. Not a good sign. One more quick glance in all the mirrors told her she was alone on the road.
Whoever had been following her had turned off.
And there was a chance that he’d just been a bad driver, one who tailgated, one who inadvertently hit his bright lights…
And your bumper? Yeah, right!
Her attention split between the road ahead and the dark night behind her, she turned on the county road leading to her home, taking the corner faster than she would have if her nerves hadn’t been stretched tight, and fishtailed around the corner. Once the Jeep had straightened and the tires grabbed the road again, she punched the accelerator up a final rise and over a hill until she spied the open gates at the end of her driveway.
Gates that should have been closed, now that they were working again, Hans having melted the ice and reconnected the faulty wires.
Again her heart clutched. What if someone had gotten inside? Someone with bad intentions? Don’t be nuts. They’ve been open for eighteen months without incident. You’re just borrowing trouble!
She drove past the rock pillars and on the far side, hit the button on her electronic remote. With a whir, the gates started to close behind her. Another poke of the garage door opener and the heavy door lifted. As she pulled in, she caught a glimpse of Allie standing in the kitchen, backlit by the overhead lights. She was waving frantically, and before Jenna could get out of the car, she was racing outside, across the breezeway, wearing only her pajamas and slippers. Critter was bounding beside her, his entire body wiggling at the sight of Jenna.
