Pursued

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “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?”

  16

  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.

  17

  Jennie flipped off the computer and scrambled to her feet. On impulse she grabbed the phone. Watching the door, she raised the receiver to her ear. “Uh-huh. Right. I’m okay, Mom, really.” A large figure loomed in the doorway. Jennie swallowed past the huge lump in her throat. “I…ah,” she stammered into the mouthpiece, hoping Rocky wouldn’t hear the dial tone. “I have to go. Talk to you later.”

  Jennie hung up. A stroke of genius, McGrady. She eased away from the desk and moved toward him. “My mother,” she explained. “She worries when I’m not home.”

  “I’d worry too,” he said, his eyes piercing like laser beams. “Especially if I had a kid as nosy as you.” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

  Jennie gave him her best who-me? look and eased by him. For a moment she thought he’d let her go. As she reached for the doorknob, his arm shot out, blocking her way.

  “Don’t flash those innocent blues at me, Jennie. I can spot a con a mile away.”

  Jennie gulped and took a step backward.

  “I meant what I said about staying out of this,” he went on. “And I don’t care if your grandmother is the President. I don’t know what you were doing in here, and I’m not going to ask. But don’t get me wrong, Jennie. There’d better not be a next time.”

  He smiled then, catching Jennie off guard. “So, what say we get back to that party where I can keep an eye on you. Since you don’t have a date and I’m free, we can finish out the evening together.”

  Jennie’s jaw dropped. Ordinarily she’d have told him to go stick his head in a bee hive. Given her current circumstances, however, she didn’t seem to have much choice. One side of her brain reminded her she could go home. The other, as usual, couldn’t resist the challenge. Okay, McGrady, you wanted to know more about Rocky, alias Robert Kennedy, alias Dean Rockford. Here’s your chance.

  Rocky held out his hand, palm up. Jennie placed her hand in his. Excitement shivered through her as their eyes met. She quickly looked away. It wasn’t the kind of feeling one should have toward a criminal.

  Except for letting her go upstairs to get into her blue silk dress, Rocky hadn’t let her out of his sight all evening. They ate together, talked, and even sang folk and country songs when Jerry played his guitar. Lisa and Allison kept casting furtive glances her way, but she hadn’t been able to break away from her bodyguard long enough to talk to them. Even when she’d gone upstairs to change, he’d made sure it was at a time when Lisa and Allison wouldn’t be there.

  At midnight the band leader announced the last song.

  “This is a beautiful song made popular by Ian Axel and Christina Aguilera. So everybody sit back and enjoy Say Something.” Rocky slid an arm around Jennie’s shoulders as they sat together at a candlelit table for two. The tables encircled the pool, and a stage had been set up at one end for the band. The stars glistened in the gently rippling water, transfixing Jennie.

  “Great song,” Rocky said softly.

  “Yes. It is.” Jennie closed her eyes and let the sweet melody drift through her, imagining herself floating across a dance floor in her rustling blue silk.

  She’d learned a lot about Rocky in the last few hours. His favorite singers, colors, and songs. He liked jogging, hiking, swimming, and skiing. He had a sister Jennie’s age at home who’d been paralyzed by a drunk driver a few years ago. He had a wonderful laugh and dimples in his cheeks, and when the light hit him just right he reminded her of Cody Simpson.

  Whoa, McGrady. This isn’t a date, remember? The guy’s four years older than you. Besides that, he could be a stalker. Jennie tried to think of the things she’d learned that might incriminate him. All she had so far was his odd behavior and the fact that he hadn’t wanted them to know his name.

  When the song ended Jennie straightened and opened her eyes. Rocky’s blue ones met hers. He lifted her chin with his fingers, and Jennie wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Sh
e wouldn’t have minded a kiss. It would have been a perfect way to end the evening.

  “Thank you for a great evening,” he said softly. His sky blue eyes clouded over. “You’re a beautiful girl, Jennie—bright, warm, and alive…and I want you to stay that way. You’ve got to promise me you won’t do any more detective work.” He took hold of her arms. “Promise me,” he demanded. When she didn’t answer he tightened his grip.

  “Okay,” Jennie muttered. “I won’t…just let me go.” Rats, she was going to cry. No way would she give Rocky the satisfaction of seeing that he’d gotten to her. She broke away from him and walked inside.

  Fortunately, this was not the throw-yourself-on-the­bed-and-cry-yourself-dry kind of thing. By the time Jennie got to the guest room where she and Lisa were staying, the tears had given way to raw fury. Jennie kicked off her shoes and yanked the bow from her hair. “Ow—” She’d also yanked half her hair off with it.

  “Jennie, what’s wrong?” Lisa and Allison walked in and barely missed being torpedoed by the silk bow. “Nothing.” Jennie picked up her shoes and stuffed them into her bag.

  “When I first saw you and Rocky together,” Lisa said, “I thought maybe you were questioning him. Then…Jennie, you don’t have a crush on him or anything, do you? The way you two were looking at each other tonight…”

  “No!” Jennie said a little too loudly. “I don’t have a crush on anybody. I can’t stand the creep.” She took a deep breath. “Thanks to you two, he caught me in your dad’s office and decided that making himself my date was the best way to keep me out of trouble.”