by Ponzo, Gary
Rachel finished helping her mom pack then went to wake her dad from his nap. After a quick lunch, she helped load their car and waved them away as they began the four and a half hour drive back to Tampa.
Finally in their absence, she made peppermint tea and settled down on the couch to watch the news. Turning to her favorite station, she watched a reporter interview the neighbor of a local missing boy, instantly striking a familiar, harsh note in her heart. She remembered seeing this story a few days ago. She turned up the T.V. and listened to a neighbor give his opinion on the family of the missing boy.
She was reminded of the scrutiny that the police department originally put on her and Rick when Mallory went missing. It was typical: look at the family first. Of course, Rachel thought it wasted a lot of time that could be spent trying to find the real kidnapper.
The young boy that was missing was believed to be kidnapped by his own father. The husband and wife were going through a bitter divorce and custody battle, the reporter announced. Rachel reached for a pen, writing down the woman’s name - Janine Jensen. Janine lived nearby in Coral Gables. Rachel opened up her laptop and tapped into the property records website that she had frequently used during her real estate days. Two addresses came up under the name Scott and Janine Jensen. She investigated further and found that one property was a vacant lot and the other was a single family residence. After copying the latter address, she went in search of a phone number. She found a listed number in the white pages and wrote that down as well.
She dropped her pen on the table and leaned back in her chair. “What am I doing?” she wondered aloud. For whatever reason, she felt a need to reach out to this lady. In the back of her mind, she supposed, it had something to do with Mallory. But she had learned to force those thoughts out of her tortured mind. If anyone knew what Janine was going through, Rachel did. She should call the woman. If anything, offer some comfort. Before she lost her nerve, Rachel picked her cell phone off the table and punched in the number. The call connected but she got a busy signal. Rachel tried a few more times over the hour, every time getting the hopeless beeps of a busy signal. Janine probably had the phone off the hook. Reporters, nosy neighbors, and nut jobs were probably plaguing her. Nothing new to Rachel, of course. She felt silly, even, forgetting the situational pressures Janine was most definitely under. She had experienced them herself, after all.
Tomorrow, decidedly, she would make the drive down to Coral Gables and visit Janine.
Chapter 11
The pink stucco house mirrored the rest of the dwellings on the street - one story homes with red-tiled roofs, two car garages, and small manicured yards with requisite palm trees. Rachel parked her BMW in front of the Jensen’s home. There weren’t any cars in the driveway and the street was fairly deserted for this time of day. She supposed that most people were at work, being that it was ten in the morning. This was definitely a working class neighborhood where most people had two or three jobs. For the first time in a long while, Rachel took a fresh breath and felt calm. It was the feeling of nostalgia - yards were kept clean, kids played in the streets after school, and dinner time was at six sharp. Rachel grew up in a similar neighborhood in Tampa.
Fighting her nerves, she grabbed her purse and walked to the front door. She wasn’t even sure if the lady was home.
Rachel rapped on the eggshell-colored door and waited for what felt like an eternity. A radio was blasting Top 40 music not far behind the door. She knocked harder. Just as Rachel was admiring the colorful pansies planted in the bed that surrounded the tiny front porch, the radio cut and the door opened all at once. A smell of herbal incense wafted through the door.
“If you are some kind of reporter, I’m not interested,” said the lady who opened the door. It wasn’t an aggravated tone that she used, it was one of tiredness. A tired, worn out, please-leave-me-the-hell-alone demeanor exuded from her.
“No worries.” Rachel replied after an awkward silence. “I’m not. But I’ve had my fair share of them lately.”
Janine stared at Rachel; her expression became inquisitive before radiating a surprised understanding. “You’re that lady whose daughter disappeared a few months ago. Ummm, Rachel Scott, right? I remember seeing you from the news.”
“Yep,” Rachel said, hesitantly. “That’s, uh, me.” She feigned a smile. “May I talk to you for a few minutes?”
“Oh, gosh. Yes, of course,” she rambled, opening the front door wider. “Come on in.”
Rachel followed Janine into her living room. She studied Janine, who was dressed in faded jeans and a worn t-shirt. Her hair was long and dark, streaked with a few bits of gray. The first expression that Rachel got of Janine was that she was laid back, carefree, and easy going.
Rachel took the couch and Janine occupied the rocking chair across from her. A tabby cat hopped onto her lap.
“I apologize for imposing on you. I tried calling several times first,” Rachel said.
“Yeah, the reporters keep calling. I’ve got my cell phone on stand-by in case the police or my bastard soon-to-be ex-husband decides to call.”
Rachel twisted with discomfort in her seat. This wasn’t entirely what she expected, but it felt necessary, nonetheless. “I imagine its tough dealing with that.” Rachel forced herself to relax and settled back in the couch and crossed her legs. “I saw your story on the news and wanted to come by and give you my support. I’d like to help…” Rachel trailed off. “But I’m not quite sure what I can do.”
“Well, thank you. What happened to, um, Mallory, right? If you don’t mind me asking, that is… I mean, the little I know came from what I saw on the news.”
Rachel, despite feeling sore about it, recounted the moment Mallory went missing and the days that followed. “It was hard. Hell, it’s still hard – never stopped being hard. Every morning I wake up and the first thought that goes through my mind is, ‘My daughter is gone’. It’s a hellish version of that movie, Groundhog Day. You know that movie?”
Janine nodded.
“I do the same thing every morning. I check the website that I set up for Mallory to see if anyone posted a comment. I check my email to see if anyone reported a lead. I call the detective on the case, asking for any new information - which is never there. Then I get in my car, ride around town, and stare at all the faces of any girls that even closely resemble Mallory. I talk to people on the street about her, even if it’s the hundredth time. Then I come home, eat dinner, go to bed and do it all over again in the morning.”
“I’m so sorry,” Janine said softly.
“It’s okay. If it isn’t too much, could you tell me what happened with your son?” Rachel asked. “If you feel comfortable with telling me, of course.”
“Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” Janine blew her nose with a tissue. “I’ll make us something to drink and we can talk about Jack there.”
Chapter 12
“It started last Saturday. I had to work late so my neighbor Pattie offered to keep Jack overnight. She lives on the next street over and has a boy close to Jack’s age. We trade babysitting all the time. Jack’s dad, Scotty, asked to come by for his birthday, which was the following day, but I refused. As I’m sure you’ve heard we’ve been going through a pretty nasty separation. Scotty has some, um, problems. Anyway, I got a call Sunday morning from Pattie.” Janine held the cup of tea up to her lips and lightly blew on it before taking a sip. “She went to wake up the boys for breakfast and noticed Jack wasn’t in his sleeping bag. After looking around the house, Pattie called me thinking I’d come by in the middle of the night – we have each other’s house keys - which, of course, I didn’t. I called Scotty while driving over to Pattie’s house hoping that he had picked up Jack. He didn’t answer the phone. When I got to Pattie’s house, we called the police.”
“Did you ever hear from Scotty?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah, he finally called me later that evening. He said he was out of town on a business trip and he didn’t know
where Jack was. At this point, I was frantic. Scotty was my last hope. Even though we were going through a bad situation with the divorce and custody issues, I’d hoped that Jack was with his father and not some stranger.”
Rachel recalled hoping that someone she knew had picked Mallory up - a neighbor, the nanny, someone familiar to her.
Janine continued, “Scotty came by the house the next morning and met with the police. He gave them an alibi and insisted that he didn’t know what happened to Jack. Hell, he seemed as distraught as I was.”
“Do you believe him?” Rachel asked.
“No, I don’t. I don’t think the police do either. He’s lawyered up and has refused the polygraph. There were no signs of a break-in or force entry at Pattie’s house.”
“What did Pattie’s son say? They were sleeping in the same room?” Rachel asked.
Janine got up from the table and filled a plate with thumbprint cookies. “I just made these this morning. They’re Jack’s favorite.” She shivered as sat them on the table. “Her son didn’t hear anything. They stayed up late watching a movie in his room and fell asleep sometime after ten o’clock.”
Rachel chewed a piece of the strawberry jam-filled cookie. “Who is handling your case?”
Since Mallory went missing, Rachel found out more than she ever wanted to know regarding the protocol that the Miami P.D. followed for a missing person’s case. She felt like she knew nearly everyone on Detective Cooper’s team.
“Investigator Jamie Brewer - he’s been good with following up with me.”
“I’ve met him. He seems pretty thorough.” Rachel nibbled on her cookie.
A moment of silence passed before Janine spoke up. “So, here we are today. Scotty isn’t cooperating, other than to say he didn’t have anything to do with Jack’s disappearance and that he’s…” Janine made quotation marks with her long, slender fingers, “looking for him on his own.”
“The police have been to his house?”
“He lives in an apartment in Hialeah. And yeah, they’ve been there.”
“If Scotty did have Jack, where would he be keeping him? If not at his apartment…?” Rachel asked.
“I don’t know… he has a sister that lives near Clearwater. His mom is deceased and he's estranged from his father.”
“Have you called Scotty’s sister?”
“No, I don’t even have her number. I’ve only met his sister a couple of times. She’s on welfare and has her hands full with five kids. I did give Detective Brewer all of the information I had on her.”
Rachel mulled over the information for a second. “My parents live in Tampa. I was thinking of going for a visit. I’d be happy to drive by his sister’s house, if you have her address… you know - see what I can find out.”
Janine was quiet for a moment as Rachel began to regret her involvement.
“Why are you doing this?” Janine asked.
“Offering to help you?”
“Yeah. I mean, you don’t even know me.”
“Because I can’t just sit still while there’s another missing child out there. My daughter is gone. But I have to keep busy. The police have exhausted every lead on Mallory but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep looking.” She took Janine’s cold hand in her own. “We can help each other.”
Janine’s eyes began to well up, but she caught herself. “I read that you’re a big real estate broker. Don’t you have to work?” she refuted.
Rachel thought about that for a minute. She had asked herself the same question many times. She’d worked hard over the last few years building her business. She had been at the top of her game. But, now, she was thinking about giving it all up to help other people find their missing loved ones. Why not? She had the money. She had the resources.
“I could go back to selling real estate, I suppose. But that doesn’t hold the same appeal to me that it used to. I don’t know how to help you understand my intentions other than telling you that my life has changed the minute my daughter went missing. I feel like I must try to do something to right the wrong in this world. I want to help other people find their missing loved ones. I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it, but I’d like to try.” Rachel shifted in her chair, struggling to find the right words. “I want to start by helping you find Jack. No strings attached. No money out of your pocket. What can it hurt?”
Rachel got up and walked toward the refrigerator. There was a picture of Janine’s family on the stainless steel front. A Rick Scott Imports magnet held the picture firmly in place. “This is my husband’s dealership,” Rachel said. Thousands of magnets had been given out since the dealership’s grand opening but it was still weird seeing one in a stranger’s home.
“Yeah, Scotty used to work there.”
Rachel’s stomach dropped as she spun around and stared at Janine. “When?”
“It’s been over three years since he was fired.” Janine fiddled with her mug. “Scotty bounces around from job to job. He’s not known for being reliable but he is a great mechanic.”
Rachel thought about the coincidence but quickly dismissed it. Her husband owned several car dealerships and employed hundreds of people around south Florida. So it wasn’t uncommon for Rachel to encounter a former employee from one of his businesses. Still, with a nagging feeling, Rachel thought she should probably mention this to Rick.
Chapter 13
Rachel stood in front of her husband with her hands on her hips. They were in his home office which was the only messy room in the whole house. Files and papers were stacked high on every available surface. Rick refused to let the housekeeper clean his office for fear that she would throw some valuable piece of paper away.
“Where are you going?” Rick asked again, looking up from his computer.
“If you would please get off the internet and pay attention to me, I wouldn’t have to repeat myself.” Rachel continued to glare at her husband.
“Sorry, I’m just up to my eyeballs in red tape with this new ad agency. The proofs for the new…”
Rachel cut him off mid-sentence. “I’m going to Tampa to see my folks and bringing a friend with me. Her name is Janine Jensen and her son Jack may have been kidnapped by her estranged husband. She believes her husband is hiding their son and maybe planning on moving out of the country with him. We’re going to stop in Clearwater to visit her sister-in-law. See if maybe she knows something about his disappearance.” Rachel inhaled deeply and crossed her arms over her chest. She decided to drop the other bomb on him. “Her husband used to work for you. Scotty Jensen. You fired him a few years ago.”
“What?” Rick stood up from his chair. His large frame towered over the desk. “You’re kidding right?”
“Nope.”
“So let me get this straight. Some guy who we fired a few years ago is involved in possibly kidnapping his own son. You’ve made friends with his wife and want to help her get her son back?”
“That about sums it up. I didn’t know about her husband working for you until today, though.”
“Why the hell are you getting involved with someone else’s problems, Rach? This is not like you. You have a business to run. We have our own daughter to find. I don’t want you to go!” he snapped.
“I didn’t think you would and I’m not asking for your permission. This woman needs my help and I want to do it. And I haven’t given up on finding our daughter.”
“I think you need to leave this business to the police. It’s their job, it’s what they do. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Rachel tried to reason with her husband. “The police have limited resources, not to mention hundreds of cases to handle. They’re overworked and underpaid. We’re just going to pay her sister-in-law a visit. That’s it. Nothing dangerous.”
Rick sighed. “Fine. You’re not going to listen to me anyway.” He slammed his laptop shut and walked out of the room without looking at her. “I’m going to the gym.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. Going to the gym w
as the equivalent to ditching Rachel and her feelings. She watched as he left the room. Their relationship was slowly suffering. Rick was becoming more concerned with work and Rachel was becoming obsessed with righting the wrongs of the world, whether it directly affected her or not.
Chapter 14
The apartment complex was located on the south side of town. A pale brick building that looked like it was on the verge of collapse. Rachel parked in the nearly empty lot and left the car running. She turned to Janine. “Are you ready for this?”
“Yeah.” She picked at her nails. “I don’t know if this will turn out to be something or not. I hate if I wasted your time.”
“You’re not wasting my time. I offered, remember?” Rachel said, before turning off the car.
“Ok,” Janine hesitated. “Let’s do this.”
Rachel followed the cracked sidewalk, careful to step around broken pieces of concrete, until she found apartment 315.
“Here we go,” Rachel said. She could hear a cartoon show blaring through the T.V. and her nose caught the smell of fried chicken. She knocked hard on the door three times and stepped back.
After a bit of yelling, the door creaked open. A little girl with bright pink pajamas and dirty feet stood before them. Her long blonde hair hung in tangled waves with a small tiara on top of her head.
“Hi,” the little girl greeted them.
“Mom! It’s those ladies from social services again!” A voice yelled from behind the girl. The voice belonged to an older boy, who looked to be around nine or ten years old.
“No, we’re not from social services…” Rachel began to explain.
“Marcus, it’s me. Your aunt Janine.” Janine stepped forward and pushed the door open wider. “Can you get your mom for me?”
