Plain Jane

by Fern Michaels

  He shook his head. “Nope. ’Fraid not, Doc.”

  “Tell me, do you ever go back to Slidell?”

  “Not if I can help it,” he said, gulping at his drink. He signaled the waiter for a refill. “My mother passed away when I was a freshman in college, and my father moved to a retirement home in Coral Gables, Florida, to be closer to his two brothers. There’s no reason to go back. Where is it you live again?”

  “Rayne. Frog capital of the world. My practice is there. I was in Slidell recently. I stopped to see Connie’s parents. I think they’re still grieving. I guess you never get over the death of a child. You must have been devastated.”

  “Oh, I was. I couldn’t eat or sleep for months. Connie and I had so many plans for our wedding and our future. I didn’t know what to do with myself for months afterward. Like I said before, I don’t know why she did it. Her parents didn’t know either. She didn’t leave a note or anything. It was a terrible time. It finally got too much for me, so I moved to Crowley.” It was all said in a breathless rush as he reached up for his second drink. Rehearsed was the word that came to Jane’s mind.

  Knowing she was about to drop a bomb, Jane picked up her drink and tried to act nonchalant. “Then you didn’t hear the news. Connie did leave a note. But no one knew it until just recently. It seems she wrote it on her computer and saved it on a disk. Adele, Connie’s mother, finally got up the courage to dismantle her daughter’s room and wondered what Connie might have put on her computer. One of the disks had a secret password. She had a computer-savvy friend come over and crack the code for her. That’s when they found the note.”

  Jane heard Prentice’s quick intake of breath and looked at him. All the blood had siphoned out of his face. He was white as a ghost.

  “Todd, are you all right? Is something wrong with your drink?” she asked with feigned concern. She’d suspected he was in the mix somehow. Now she knew it.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just—Jesus, she left a note?”

  “Really more of a letter, from what I understand,” Jane said, sipping from her glass. She detested mineral water. It was so blah! “I think the waiter wants to take our order now. I feel positively decadent with the holidays so I think I’ll have the shrimp-and-lobster scampi with the pecan tulle for dessert. French dressing on the side, please.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’ll have the same,” Todd said to the waiter. “You’re right, Jane, it sounds decadent.” The color was back in his face, and his voice sounded normal.

  He’s quick to recuperate, Jane thought, wishing his misery had lasted a little longer. But there was more to come. Much more. And she was patient.

  “Tell me something, Jane. Why is it you and I never met back in college? I thought I knew all of Connie’s friends.”

  Content with the way things were going, Jane offered him a smile. “I was one of those studious, bookworm types. When I wasn’t in class, I think I spent every waking hour in the library. Connie and I shared the same dorm, but we didn’t share the same friends. We would meet in my room and talk several times a week. Actually, we spent that night before our last final together in the library, then in my room.” She spread butter on her bread. “This French bread is soooo good. How do you stay so trim, Todd, if you eat here so often?”

  “Good metabolism,” he responded vaguely. “I work out and play racquetball three days a week after work. You literally sweat bullets when you play racquetball.”

  “I’ll have to think about taking up the sport. I don’t like to sweat, though,” Jane said, reaching for another slice of bread she didn’t really want. “By the way, do you know Brian Ramsey?” Jane threw her hands in the air. “Now that was a stupid question. He played football with you, so of course you knew him. He lives and works in Rayne now, you know. I’ll bet you miss playing football? You had some really good press back in college as I recall. The media loved the Bengal Tigers.” She bit off another bite of bread. “Mmm, this is so good,” she said, not wanting to lose her momentum even though her mouth was full. “I wonder if they buy it or make it fresh here. I could sit here and eat it all day long. Do you guys get together and hash over old plays and stuff like that? Jocks always do that in the movies.” She shook her head. “Lord, I don’t know where half my old debating team is or the girls from the choir. I should make more of an effort to keep in touch, but I’m so busy these days. Isn’t life strange, Todd? Whoever would have thought the two of us would be sitting here having lunch one day? Old bookworm Jane and superhero Todd of the awesome Bengal Tigers. So, where do you guys go when you get together?” Jane asked again, cutting into a cucumber on her salad plate. She pretended not to see Todd raise his arm for a third drink.

  “We try to get together during Mardi Gras in N’awlins. Usually one or two can’t make it, but for the most part we all show up and party for a few days.”

  “That’s sweet. All you guys getting together. Bet your wife doesn’t like that one bit,” Jane said as she popped a cherry tomato in her mouth. She crunched down on it and Todd blinked. “You aren’t eating, Todd. This is a wonderful salad. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

  “You’re on your third drink, and you’re staring off into space. Am I that boring?”

  Todd offered up a sickly smile. “You’re not boring at all. I had three beignets for breakfast, and all three were loaded with way too much sugar. I rarely eat much at lunchtime. Tell me, how do you handle being a shrink? Doesn’t listening to other people’s problems get to you?”

  “Sometimes. But you have to listen to their problems to know how to help them. I often wish I could see them progress a little faster, but everyone has their own pace. Take Mr. and Mrs. Bryan for example. They should have talked to a counselor after Connie’s death, but they didn’t. I sat talking with them for days,” Jane lied. “I think I was a help to them. It was a very rewarding experience. I came away from there feeling much better. What comes to your mind when you think of Connie?” Jane asked, staring up at the waiter holding her luncheon plate.

  When the waiter handed Todd his plate, Jane couldn’t help but notice that he was looking pale again. “What’s wrong, Todd? Isn’t the scampi what you expected?”

  “No, no, it’s fine. It’s those beignets I had for breakfast. I should have just stuck with the salad.”

  “But you didn’t eat your salad either. I’ll have to come here more often. What were we saying, Todd?”

  “I don’t remember. The waiter came just as you asked me something, but I don’t recall . . .” His voice was desperate-sounding.

  Fork poised in midair, Jane offered up a winning smile. “I remember now. We were talking about Connie, and I asked you what comes to you when you think about her. Assuming, of course, that you do think of her after all these years.”

  “Right. Now I remember,” Todd said, sticking his fork into a succulent piece of lobster that dripped butter. “College days. Our plans for the future. Getting married and having kids. That kind of thing. What about you?” He said, cleverly throwing the question back at her.

  “I guess the way she dressed. She always had the neatest clothes. She liked to sew, I remember that. I can remember so clearly what she was wearing that last night. A pleated, red plaid skirt, a white sweater set, and Keds. She looked so . . . preppy, so collegiate. She left her clothes in my room that night. Do you believe that? I took them home with me when I left the following day. I think they’re still in my old trunk. I meant to send them back, but never got around to it. Good intentions, that kind of thing. I guess it boils down to laziness on my part.” She pointed her fork at his plate. “I can’t tell you what you are missing here, Todd. Shame on you for eating those beignets this morning. There’s so much garlic in this scampi it’s going to ooze out my pores any second.” One more bite and she was going to choke. “I think I’m going to pass on the dessert if you don’t mind, Todd. Good Lord, would you look at the time. You won’t be offended if
I eat and run, will you?”

  “No. No, not at all,” he said, relief flooding his voice. “I need to get back to the office myself. Tomorrow we leave for Aspen.”

  “Please, Todd, let me pay. I was the one who invited you to lunch.”

  “We keep a running tab here. Don’t worry about the bill. It was so nice to see you again. Let’s do it again sometime.”

  “Thank you. Thanks, too, for all this material,” she said, indicating the manila envelope.

  “It was nothing, Jane. I was glad to do it.”

  She put her napkin down and stood up. “I’ll be in touch about the article. Will it be all right to call you if I hit a snag?”

  “Certainly.”

  In the lobby, Jane said, “Don’t wait for me, Todd. You go ahead. I want to go to the ladies’ room. Thanks again for lunch.”

  “My pleasure.” He gave the hatcheck girl a five-dollar bill, then handed Jane her coat.

  In the tastefully decorated bathroom, Jane sat down on a velvet-covered chair and gasped for breath. Mike was going to throttle her when she told him what she’d done. Trixie would call it kicking ass. Big-time. “You have a big mouth, Jane Lewis,” she said to her mirrored reflection. “Not only do you have a big mouth, you don’t know when to keep it shut. Now he knows you know.” She started to turn away. “Wait a minute, what do I know?” she said, turning back to the mirror. She knew that one of Connie’s rapists had worn a thick wrist bracelet and the other had been wearing some sort of medallion around his neck. She knew Connie suspected that Todd knew about the rape. She knew Connie’s parents hadn’t liked him and that he’d wanted money rather than useful household wedding gifts. She knew he’d lied when he said he hadn’t known what to do with himself for months after Connie’s death. If that were true, how could he have gotten to know the woman he married only one year later? And she knew that there was something weird about Brian Ramsey, Todd’s former teammate, seeking her out for treatment. There was something she was missing, but at the moment she didn’t have a clue as to what it was. “Shit!” she said succinctly.

  “That about sums it up,” a waitress said over her shoulder as she entered the ladies’ room.

  “Excuse me. I just had lunch with Todd Prentice. I think he comes here a lot. Do you know him by any chance?” Jane asked, grabbing at straws.

  “Are you kidding?” The waitress rolled her eyes. “He’s hit on all of us at one time or another. He’s a lousy tipper, too. Why?”

  “Oh, he just hit on me, too, and I was wondering what kind of guy he is.”

  “He’s the kind of guy that cheats on his wife. Give him a wide berth is my advice.”

  “Thanks. I will. Have a nice holiday.” She tossed the manila envelope into the waste bin.

  “You, too.”

  Jane pulled out onto the highway and accelerated to the speed limit. Every two minutes she checked her rearview mirror to see if anyone was following her. She was so full of anxiety and tension she thought she would explode.

  She headed straight for the McGuire farm, to Trixie and Fred. They would calm her down.

  Trixie needed a break. Wrapping Christmas presents was a taxing job. She’d been at it for hours. Spools and rolls of gaily colored ribbon were everywhere. Yards and yards of paper covered the long dining-room table, the buffet, and the server. Dozens of presents were lined up against the walls waiting to be delivered to the police department. It was Trixie’s way of making good on her promise for the use of the police car. If she ever finished, Fred would deliver the presents in time for the annual Christmas party at seven o’clock. Only seven more to go. Fred was absolutely useless when it came to tying bows and getting Scotch tape on without wrinkles in it. Two left thumbs.

  Flash prowled among the presents, sniffing and poking them with his snout. One moment he was contentedly browsing and the next he was running to the kitchen door, barking.

  Company.

  “Janie, girl! What brings you here in the middle of the afternoon ? Start wrapping, honey. Fred has to get these to the Christmas party before seven. I know something is wrong, so talk while you wrap. Each present has a name stuck on it, so be extra careful when you fill out the tag.”

  Jane reached for a roll of paper. “You aren’t going to believe what I did, Trixie. God, I don’t believe I did it either. You know me and my mouth! Just the other day I convinced myself that Todd Prentice should be added to the mix. You know what, Trix, I was right. I had him so rattled I thought he was going to hop right out of his Jockeys. He had three, that’s three, Trix, double Rob Roys. Didn’t eat a thing. At the time I thought I was being clever. Now I’m not so sure. I might have gone a little too far.”

  “Let’s take a break. Coffee or tea?”

  “Neither. How about some ginger ale?”

  Jane sat on the floor rubbing Flash’s belly as she recounted her luncheon with Todd Prentice. “I honest to God told him I still had Connie’s clothes in my old trunk. Do you have the bag or do I have it? I can’t even remember.”

  “I have it. You were going to take it a couple of times, but you never did. Once you even had it in your hand to take with you and you changed your mind. Unless, of course, you took it and didn’t tell me. When we finish wrapping, we can check the garage. Do you want to go to the party with Fred and me tonight?”

  “Thanks, but no. Mike is coming over. I still have some of my own Christmas stuff to do. What do you think about all this, Trixie?”

  “I think you’re bringing it all to a head. But to tell you the truth, I’m not sure if it’s good or bad. What’s your next move?”

  “That’s just it, Trixie, I don’t know. I suppose I need to get out a magnifying glass and look through my college annual to see who’s wearing thick bracelets and medallions. If they’re football players, I might be onto something. And I need to go through the rest of Connie’s disk. But other than that—I don’t know where to go from here. What would you do if you were me?”

  “Sit back and wait,” Trixie said without a moment’s thought. “If Prentice is as you say, in the mix, you put him on alert. Correct me if I’m wrong here. You think he was somehow personally involved with your friend’s rape that night?”

  “It depends on your definition of personal. He wasn’t there, if that’s what you mean. Oh God, I forgot to tell you about the disk. Stop what you’re doing and pay attention, Trixie.”

  Trixie’s face went from curious to amazement to disbelief as Jane recited the events of finding the disk and reading it. “I’m not even going to ask who you think might have put your name on the disk. Now I see where you’re coming from. I don’t like this, Janie. If Prentice is involved, and I don’t know how he would be, but let’s say he is, he’s going to alert everyone. I don’t even know who everyone is. I should be able to figure this out since it’s what I do for a living, but I can’t. The boys that harmed your friend that night are now grown men with families and probably good jobs. They won’t want anything to disturb their tidy little lives. If any of them find out that you’re causing a stir there’s no telling what they will do. You could be in danger. Do you think Brian Ramsey was sent to you with a concocted story as a sort of red herring? You know, to see if you knew anything or to get a reaction out of you? I hate clichés, but if that’s the case, they should have let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought, Trixie. But then Betty Vance came along. Was all that planned, or was it a coincidence ? Was all that to give me a nudge to see if I’d push the envelope? Maybe it’s all one big mind game.”

  “Sweetie, how would you feel about having Flash stay with you for a while? Two dogs are better than one. He adores you. Fred and I are going to worry ourselves sick over these new developments.”

  “No. Olive is good. She knows the moment someone turns off the highway. She can literally smell the UPS guy’s truck. Mike is with me at night. I think he might be moving in. I’m hoping he will. I’m not home during the day, and once my practice is gone,
I’ll be here working with you. If it will ease your mind, I can have an alarm system put in on the first floor.”

  “Do that, honey. It will definitely ease my mind.”

  “I’ll call right after Christmas. They aren’t going to be able to get to me till after the New Year, though. No one conducts business between Christmas and New Year’s.” Jane went back to wrapping presents. “So, how’s the new book coming?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “You mean Pigskin Bloodbath?”

  “Egads! Is that what you’re calling it?”

  “What else? It deals with the murder of an entire college football team. This one was Fred’s idea. You know how he loves football.”

  Jane’s curiosity was piqued. “Who’s the killer?”

  “I think it’s the guy in charge of the point spread, whatever that is. A fixed championship game or something. I’ve been so busy with Flash, I just gave Fred his head and let him run with it.”

  “Oh! Trixie, do you mind if I go into your storage room and fish out some of your older books, the ones Mike doesn’t have? I want to give them to him for Christmas. Will you autograph them?”

  “Sure, but don’t tell him the truth.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Go get them. Fred will sign them for you.”

  “I love you, Trixie,” Jane said, throwing her arms around the little woman.

  It was five o’ clock and already dark when Jane parked her car alongside the steps leading to her back porch. The skin on her forearms prickled as she climbed from the car, ever grateful to Fred for insisting on the sensor lights. She bolted up the steps and into the house. Olive welcomed her as though she’d been gone for a month. “Do you want to go for a run, Olive? Around the house a few times then right back in. I’m locking this door so use your doggie door. I’m going to change my clothes. You better be in here when I get back down here. Understood?” The springer looked at her with questioning eyes, her tail swishing back and forth. “It’s okay, I’m just spooking myself. Ten minutes.” Olive bellied out the doggie door and was gone.