Barn Burner (Jubilant Falls series Book 1)

by Debra Gaskill

  “Penny, Dunk,” Gary nodded in their direction. “We’ve been looking for Mrs. Thorn since about 6 a.m. when Dr. Thorn awoke and said she wasn’t in bed and a college vehicle was missing.” Four JFPD beat cops and two guys in suits—the FBI guys brought into aid in the investigation, Addison assumed—lined up behind the assistant chief.

  “Well, before you go running in there to free Jaylynn from the clutches of my kitchen, you need to know that Dr. and Mrs. Thorn haven’t slept together in damn near a year. She got this letter and wanted to bring it to me this morning, so she took Seaford’s SUV and left really early. From her own bedroom.”

  “Agent John Seevers.” One of the FBI agents, his eyes hidden by mirrored sunglasses, stepped forward and flipped his badge at her. He pointed at the man beside him, a young black man in a better-cut suit. “This is my partner, Paul Renfield. Why did she bring it to you and not to law enforcement?”

  “Because she was convinced her husband engineered her daughter’s disappearance and didn’t think the police shared her viewpoint,” Addison said. “She wanted me to run it in today’s paper, but I told her no.”

  “Good move,” Seevers said.

  “Thank you for your editorial opinion,” Addison shot back. “Let me know when I can give you advice on how you do your job.”

  “Your colleagues always do, ma’am.”

  In the McIntyre kitchen, everyone watched as McGinnis finished his examination. “We need to get this tested for prints. We’ll need you ladies’ prints as well,” he said.

  “Tell me about the ransom note,” Jaylynn asked. “What about my baby?”

  “It apparently came in yesterday’s mail, but Dr. Thorn didn’t open it until this morning. He woke up and saw you were not in bed.”

  “I was not in my bedroom, Chief McGinnis. Dr. Thorn and I have not shared a bed in some time.” Jaylynn sat up straight, suddenly sounding like a steel magnolia.

  That’s my girl, Addison thought.

  “Yes, Penny told me that,” McGinnis continued slightly chagrined. “He went down to breakfast where he saw yesterday’s mail at his place at the kitchen table. It wasn’t until he’d opened the letter and was going to bring it to us that he saw that the Navigator and you were gone.”

  “So what did the ransom note say?” Addison asked.

  “I’d rather not say right now.”

  “I’m not on the record and this won’t end up in the paper. This is my house. I’m off work for a few days.”

  McGinnis looked at the FBI agents. Seevers nodded.

  “The letter says they have Lyndzee and are asking that a specific sum of money be dropped off at a particular point. Then they’ll return the girl.”

  Jaylynn clutched McGinnis’s arm. “How much money do they want? You’re going to do what they ask, aren’t you?”

  “They want $250,000 to return Lyndzee unharmed.”

  “Two hundred and fifty thousand! Where are we going to get that kind of money?”

  “We are working those details out right now,” Renfield said.

  “Dr. Thorn is supposed to get a phone call at 9:15 this morning at his office,” said McGinnis. “The FBI has agents there setting up equipment to trace the call now. We need you to come back to the college, Mrs. Thorn.”

  “I’m not going back without Addie.”

  Addison’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “You’re my friend, Addie, the only real friend I’ve got in this town. I can’t trust my husband—you can see that. I need you, please!” She turned to the assembled lawmen. “She’s been so wonderful and she believes that Seaford had something to do with Lyndzee’s disappearance, even if you all don’t.”

  “Jaylynn, I told you what I think–I think it’s possible whoever sent you that letter has more to do with Lyndzee’s disappearance than Seaford.”

  “We can’t have a member of the press involved in this,” Seevers said.

  “She’s not coming as a member of the press. She’s coming as my friend!”

  “Jaylynn, ethically, I really can’t do this, “ Addison protested.

  “Ethically, how can you not?” Jaylynn pleaded. “Addie, I need someone to lean on. I can’t lean on my husband! You can see from that letter I’m lower than a hog’s belly in his eyes and he’d rather be with any other woman than me. I can’t lean on any of the staff at home. Seaford has poisoned them against me. You’re all I’ve got!”

  Addison looked at McGinnis, then at the FBI agents. Slowly she turned to look at her husband, who shook his head from side to side.

  “We have an appointment at the hospital this morning, Penny,” he said softly. “I know this story—and Jaylynn—mean a lot to you, but your daughter needs you. You can’t go chasing this story. Not today.”

  The memory of the blood-spattered bathroom and Isabella, wan and unconscious in her hospital bed, swam through Addison’s mind.

  “He’s right. I can’t.” Addison whispered as she turned back to the assembled group in her kitchen.

  “I promise I’ll tell you what happens.” Jaylynn grasped Addison’s hands.

  “We’ll determine how much information is passed on to the press,” Seevers barked. “This is an official investigation.”

  Addison rolled her eyes and hugged Jaylynn. “Don’t you worry about me. You just worry about getting Lyndzee back.” She turned to Gary McGinnis. “You keep me as informed as you can. I’ll be off work for a few more days, but when you make contact with this guy—or guys—I want a story.”

  McGinnis nodded. “We’ll do what we can. Now, Mrs. Thorn, if we could head back to the college, we’ve got just over an hour before the phone call is slated to come in.”

  ***

  “Mrs. McIntyre, you can’t stand here like this in front of the door. Visiting hours aren’t until later this afternoon.”

  Addison felt a firm hand on her shoulder and turned to look at Dr. Fairfax standing behind her. Obediently, she followed the doctor from the door to a small sitting area in the hall where Duncan sat.

  How could so much have changed in just such a short time? Addison asked herself as she watched Fairfax methodically review Isabella’s chart. It seemed as if some great cosmic power had changed her world into some kind of snow globe and shook it until everything flew around her in a maddening blizzard she could neither have anticipated nor seen the end of.

  It wasn’t like she could see that much anyway. Chicken wire ran through the thick glass of the psych ward door, making it hard to see what went on inside. She’d caught a couple glimpses of Isabella as she moved from room to room—first, coming out of her room in her pajamas with her breakfast tray, then fully dressed, she walked, as if in a fog, into one of the rooms Addison knew to be a group therapy room.

  Isabella’s athletic shoes flopped loosely on her feet and her skin was still pale.

  “Her shoes don’t have laces. Why don’t they have laces?” Addison asked as she sat down.

  “All suicide attempts are not allowed to have belts or shoe laces or any clothing with drawstrings, anything they could possibly use to hurt themselves,” Fairfax explained gently.

  Addison sighed. “Oh.”

  “Before we start her on Lithium, we scheduled Isabella for a few tests run this morning.” The doctor’s words were smooth and comforting, a change from the cold, dry professionalism she’d presented before.

  “Like what?”

  “They ran some neurological tests, an MRI and a CAT scan to make sure there isn’t any organic reason for her problems—a brain tumor, for example.”

  Addison nodded. “I don’t mean to be a problem but,” she began. I pass the hospital every morning on my way to work, she wanted to say. I never thought about all the small dramas that could have been unfolding here, how lives hung in the balance, how… “I just wanted to see my daughter,” she finished aloud.

  I know, I know. It’s always tough when your child is in the hospital,” Fairfax was soothing. “And it’s a good sign you’re here.
It means you care. I’ve got patients in there whose parents drop them off, then don’t come back for them until the day they’re released.”

  Addison nodded again.

  “Don’t worry about Isabella. She’s going to be just fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely positive. We’ve—”

  Addison interrupted before Fairfax could finish, clutching the woman’s upper arms in desperation. “I mean, I just feel like the bottom has fallen out of my world. I’ve got a million questions. Is my daughter going to be OK? Am I going to have to watch her for the rest of her life to make sure she doesn’t do this again? Am I the reason she did this?

  “Mrs. McIntyre, no. I know it seems pretty scary right now, but that will change. I’ve been on this unit for almost ten years now and I know that kids who have their parents behind them like you have a better chance of recovery.”

  “Did my father come speak to you?”

  “As a matter of fact, he came in yesterday afternoon.”

  “You’re kidding me.” Addison was stunned.

  “No. And while he may have some rather outdated ideas of mental illness, what he told me about June, your mother, seems to indicate classic bipolar disorder—what we call Bipolar 1.

  “That usually includes the huge mood swings from elation to deep dark depression. It can include the grandiosity, and, like in your mother’s case, the uncontrolled spending sprees and sexual activity. Bipolar II is a little less high and low in its cycles from mania to depression, but still can be devastating to the patient.” Fairfax’s recitation of the facts was firm and matter of fact. Addison wondered how many times she’d sat down with a shell-shocked parent and given this same dry speech.

  “A third form, called schizoaffective disorder, could mix the voices and hallucinations that schizophrenics experience with the mood swings of manic depression. But I don’t see that in your daughter’s case.” Fairfax stopped to scan Isabella’s chart once more, then continued. “What we’ll do is make sure Isabella has no other organic causes for her mood swings and then start her on the Lithium this afternoon. You should see a rapid leveling off in her mood swings. Stabilization should occur fairly quickly.”

  “When can we bring her home?”

  “Once we’re sure she’s no longer a danger to herself.” Fairfax stood and extended her hand. “We should have the results this afternoon. I’ll call you when I get them.”

  She ushered them from the conference room and toward the elevator, pushing the down button with a conservatively manicured finger. The door slid open and the McIntyres stepped inside.

  The door slid shut and the elevator began its descent to the lobby.

  “I can’t believe Dad came to see Doc Fairfax,” Addison said quietly.

  “Maybe that means its time for a reconciliation between you two,” Duncan replied.

  She sighed. “I don’t know. Dad’s so convinced my mother intentionally set out to ruin his life. I can’t see how talking to him would make a difference, especially after what happened to Isabella. I mean, what if he thinks she’s a carbon copy of June?”

  “She’s his only grandchild, Penny. He’ll always love her.”

  “Are you sure? You know what a hard-ass my dad can be.”

  “Yes, I do. But I also think he took a big step coming to talk to Dr. Fairfax.”

  The elevator stopped and a polite bell sounded as the doors slid open. Duncan held the door open for his wife as they stepped into the hospital lobby.

  “Just take your time, Penny. We don’t have to change the world all at once. We can do it one day at a time.”

  Chapter 18

  After a quiet dinner of fried ham, hash browns and sliced tomatoes from the garden, Addison slipped upstairs to the phone in their bedroom to check in with the newsroom.

  Dennis Herrick answered the city desk phone on the first ring.

  “Hey, how are you? How’s Isabella?” he asked.

  “They’re going to run some tests and then start her on some medication. How’s things going there?’

  “Nothing new on the Lyndzee Thorn case, if that’s what you’re asking.

  The feds came in and really clamped down on information. Marcus can’t get anything out of anybody.”

  “That’s because all the drama has been occurring out here on my farm,” Addison wanted to add. Instead, she said, “Well, the investigation is still active or they would be begging for tips. I’ll bet something is going on.”

  “When are you coming back to work?”

  “I’m not sure. It depends on how Izzy is doing. Shouldn’t be too long, though. Anything else going on?’

  “Had an accident out on the highway last night—not a local though. Courts are fairly quiet. Elizabeth did a quick feature on summer school this morning.”

  “Sounds good. Marcus still has the police pager, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, let me talk to Duncan and see if I can’t come in and put in some hours in the next couple days.”

  “We’d sure love to have you back, Addie.”

  “Thanks.” Quietly she disconnected the call. After hearing a dial tone, punched in Jaylynn’s private number.

  She picked up on the first ring, her voice sounding high and thin with tension. “Hello?”

  “It’s me, Addison. Can you talk or is your minder by your side?”

  Jaylynn was silent a moment, then whispered her reply. “She’s gone home for the day, but I don’t know if Seaford is outside the door. Let me check.” Addison heard the phone clatter on the surface of the nightstand and Jaylynn’s footsteps move into the distance, then return.

  “I’m back,” she whispered as she picked up the phone again. “I don’t think he’d be smart enough to have the phones bugged.”

  “The FBI might, though. They won’t be happy you’re talking to the press. And why do you let Seaford control you like this? You’ve got so much going for you without him lousing up your life.”

  “I know, I know. Once I get my baby back, things are going to change. And besides, how could those FBI boys say anything? You’re not calling as the editor of the Journal-Gazette, you’re calling as my friend.” Jaylynn’s voice rose slightly above a whisper, her Georgia accent thick.

  “So what’s going on? Friend to friend.”

  “The kidnappers called, just like they said they would. Those FBI agents put a trace on the phone and it came back to a pay phone at the Wal-Mart west of town. It came through Golgotha’s main switchboard, too, not directly dialed, they said.”

  “Any ideas on who placed the call?”

  “No. There were too many people at Wal-Mart to notice who had or hadn’t used the phone last.”

  “What did they sound like? The callers, I mean.”

  “They sounded awfully young. They were trying to disguise their voices somehow. Chief McGinnis said they were probably talking through a handkerchief or something, but they still sounded young.”

  “So, what happens next?”

  “They want to meet Seaford out at some barn way out in the boondocks. He’s supposed to bring a suitcase full of unmarked twenties and they’re supposed to give my baby back. They’re giving us a few days to get the money together.”

  “OK. I’m assuming the feds and the cops are following him out?”

  “Yes. And he’s supposed to wear a wire.”

  “When’s the drop supposed to happen?”

  “The what?”

  “The exchange, when Seaford takes the money and gets Lyndzee back.”

  “Saturday at ten. At night.”

  “Did they let you talk to Lyndzee on the phone?”

  Jaylynn sighed again. “No, but they said she’s alive and she’s OK.”

  “And you believed them?”

  “Addie, what choice do I have?” Hysteria began to crowd Jaylynn’s voice.

  “I guess so. You really believe this is going to end soon? You’re confident about this?”

 
; “ I have to be confident. What are my other options, Addie? I’ve bought the stuff to cook her favorite dinner—fish sticks and macaroni and cheese.”

  “Anybody say anything about counting your chickens before they’re hatched?”

  “Oh, those FBI agents don’t want me to get my hopes up, but I’ve got to believe this time my baby is coming home to me, Addie, I have to believe!” She laughed, then stopped short. “I know you think I’m naïve for thinking this way, but do you know what I go through every time the phone rings? I mean, I want it to be the police, but if it is the police and they’re calling to tell me they found my baby and she’s dead in a ditch. I just want to vomit every time the phone rings, Addie, I’m so terrified, and I just want to run and hide. Can you understand that?”

  Addison sighed. “I’m not even going to pretend I understand what you feel, Jaylynn. I know when the phone rings here, I’m scared it’s the hospital and Izzy has tried to commit suicide again. Or that this time she was successful.”

  They were both silent for a moment.

  “What did the police say about the letter you got?”

  “Chief reamed Seaf for not telling them that he’d been involved with someone else,” Jaylynn said softly. “Said they could be looking into this woman as a possible suspect if he hadn’t kept that information from him.”

  “Did he say who she is?”

  “Not while I was around at least. It doesn’t matter though. I’ll be getting my baby back in a few days and then he can sleep with who-damn-ever he wants. I’m taking Lyndzee and going home to Suwannee Bend.”

  “You’re getting brave,” Addison smiled. “’Who damn ever?’ Is that any way for a college president’s wife to talk?”

  “Oh, Addie, if your daughter was home and my daughter was home, wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

  “Yes. Yes it would.” Tears welled up in Addison’s eyes as she said goodnight and hung up the phone.

  Would anything ever be the same again? She wondered. She fished in her nightstand for a pack of cigarettes and lighter as her thoughts meandered. How will I react when Isabella comes home? How fragile will she be? Can we cope with this? Can I cope with this? What about my dad? How will he accept all this?