Forty minutes later, Paige motioned them off the main road and onto a narrow, winding driveway. Serenity Lane, the sign read. Jennie almost laughed at the irony of it. Jennie felt about as serene as a thunderstorm.
The cabin sat in a cleared area at the end of the drive. “Looks like Ed’s not here,” Jennie said as she stepped out of the car.
“He will be.” With the gun still trained on Lisa, Paige motioned them inside. The cabin had a damp, woodsy smell. Smoothly finished logs lined the interior. A stone fireplace covered one wall, and across from it, an open stairway led to a loft.
“Nice house,” Jennie said absently, dropping back so she could slip between Lisa and Paige. If she could distract Paige somehow, maybe she could knock the gun out of her hand.
Jennie looked up at the loft. “Is that where you’re hiding Allison and Jerry?”
Paige glanced up for an instant. Jennie slammed a fist down on Paige’s wrist and sent the gun skidding across the floor. She grabbed Paige’s forearm, spun her around, and held it taut behind her back.
“Ow, let me go!”
“Lisa, get the gun.” Lisa didn’t move. Her gaze was fixed at the top of the stairs. “I-I d-don’t think that would be a very good idea, Jennie,” Lisa stammered.
“Smart girl.” Ed leaned over the railing, a gun casually hanging from his hand. He raised his arm and pointed it at Jennie. “Let her go.”
22
Jennie dropped Paige’s arm and the girl stumbled forward, retrieved the gun, and glanced up at Ed. “I didn’t think you were here. Your car…”
“I left it in Portland and hitched a ride with a trucker. Police are probably going crazy by now.” Ed laughed and waved his gun, then settled his sights on Jennie again. “Glad you two could come. Jerry, Allison, and me were having this really interesting conversation. Jerry thinks I should let them go, give the money back, and tell everyone I’m sorry. I told him I’d think about it on my way to California.”
“You’re not going to get away with this,” Jennie said.
“Of course we are.” He pulled some cord out of his back pocket and tossed it to Paige. “Tie them up.”
“I can understand kidnapping Allison,” Jennie said as Paige drew her hands behind her back. “But why us?”
“You’re the detective. You figure it out,” Ed barked. Jennie didn’t even try. He was obviously worried that sooner or later she and Lisa would realize that he was the gunman at the Murrays’ that night. As Paige wound the rope around her wrists, Jennie balled up her fists and strained against the rope, hoping there’d be enough slack to work them loose later.
When Paige finished tying Lisa, Ed directed Allison and Jerry downstairs. Jerry had a black eye and swollen lip, but the way he jerked away from Ed’s hand told Jennie he still had some fight in him. Maybe there was some hope after all. Allison, however, wouldn’t be much help. Ed half carried her down the steps. Her drooped and matted hair partly covered red-rimmed eyes and a bruised cheek. She whimpered as he dumped her on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Allison didn’t look much like a princess anymore.
The thought infuriated Jennie. B.J. had called him “pond scum.” Jennie had a few choice descriptions of her own. She wouldn’t voice them though, not now. She couldn’t risk him getting mad at her.
While Paige held her gun, Ed looped a rope through the ties on their ankles and secured Jennie, Lisa, and Allison to the post at the bottom of the stairs. As soon as he turned his back, Jennie started working at the knots on her wrists, hoping to loosen them more.
He ordered Paige to wait in the car, then put a gun to Jerry’s back and shoved him out the door. “Jerry, my man. It’s time for us to take a little ride. But first…” Ed opened the door and led Jerry out to the porch.
Donning a pair of garden gloves, Ed picked up a can of kerosene and sprinkled fuel all over the front door and porch. He grabbed one of Jerry’s hands and pressed it to the can, then heaved the can into the front yard.
Jennie stared at him for a moment. Then the realization of what he was planning seeped into her brain. He was framing Jerry. The police would find Jerry somewhere, no doubt with a ton of evidence to tie him to the kidnapping and the cabin containing the charred bodies of three girls.
Paige tore up the porch steps and grabbed Ed’s arm. “What are you doing? You can’t burn…”
Ed threw her off. She stumbled backwards and fell against the porch railing.
“What’s the matter with you? I told you to get in the car.”
Paige scrambled to her feet. “No, you promised no one would get hurt. You said…”
“Shut up. Either get in the car or get in the house with them. One more body isn’t going to make that much difference.”
There was enough slack in the ropes to where Jennie had been able to work her hands free. Now all she had to do was undo those around her feet without Ed noticing. Jennie eased her hands forward and began untying the knots. She glanced up just as Paige looked inside.
You’re dead, McGrady.
Paige hesitated, her brown eyes filled with indecision.
Don’t tell him, Jennie pleaded silently. Please.
Paige turned back to Ed. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “You know I hate to see anybody hurt. But if you think it’s necessary.” Paige clung to his arm and kissed his cheek. “Of course I want to go with you.”
Jennie let out the breath she’d been holding. She didn’t know what Paige had in mind, but she’d be ready.
“That’s better,” Ed said. “Now put him in the backseat and get in the car.”
Paige lifted the gun and pointed it at Jerry. “Move.”
“Good girl.” Ed pulled a lighter out of his pocket and flicked it.
At that moment Jennie scrambled to the door and dove for his legs. A gunshot ripped through the air and Jennie heard a thud as it reached its mark.
Tears stung her eyes as she rolled away from Ed. She felt the rise and fall of her stomach as she sucked in air and slowly let it go. Paige knelt beside him, cradling his head, her fingers dripping with blood from the gunshot wound to his head. Her gun lay on the ground a few feet away where she’d dropped it. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” she sobbed. “I just couldn’t let you hurt them. It wouldn’t have been right.”
Running on adrenaline, Jennie brushed away her own tears and got to her feet. She untied Jerry and he hurried in to release the others and to call 911.
In the bathroom, Jennie found a towel, which she took outside and pressed to Ed’s wound. “Hold it tight,” Jennie instructed Paige, doubtful that their efforts would do much good. She put an ear to his chest, but only heard the distant wail of sirens.
Moments later a squad car pulled in to Serenity Lane. Donovan, Mendoza, and Rocky spilled out with weapons drawn. Somewhere deep down Jennie knew they’d come. She just wished it hadn’t taken them so long.
Later that evening, when their statements had been taken and everyone had gone home, Jennie tried not to think about the broken girl Donovan and Rocky had arrested. Or about the boy who lay in intensive care, hovering between life and death. She tried not to blame herself. Tried not to tell herself that if she hadn’t tackled Ed, Paige might have hit his leg or shoulder instead of his head.
Instead she concentrated on the positive things—the fact that Donovan and Mendoza had put a tracking device in the suitcase holding the ransom money. And Rocky, after finding her note, tracked down Paige’s parents, found out about the car and the exact location of the cabin.
Michael, who’d stayed at the hospital with Ed’s parents, called to tell her that Ed had undergone surgery and was in “stable but critical condition.”
Allison and Jerry had been released from the hospital earlier. Their bruises would heal quickly—at least those on the outside. The police had dropped the charges against Jerry, and tomorrow they were all going to meet at A
llison’s to debrief and go swimming in the pool.
B.J. had whittled the chip on her shoulder down to the size of a small house. She’d decided to stay with the Beaumonts that night. “Allison might need me,” B.J. had said. “You know how fragile she is.”
Jennie glanced at the figure sleeping in her window seat and smiled. It had taken Lisa an hour to persuade Aunt Kate and Uncle Kevin to let her spend the night. She breathed another prayer of thanks that they were all alive and not buried in the smoldering remains of an isolated cabin.
All these things, the bad and the good, Jennie entered in her journal as a letter to her dad. Almost as an afterthought, she wrote:
I made a new friend who’s a rookie cop. Not a boyfriend—more like a big brother. You’d like him. His name is Rocky. Really it’s Dean Rockford. He wants me to meet his sister, Pam. Maybe I’ll invite them to Allison’s pool party tomorrow.
Then again, maybe not. He’d probably lecture her again on following orders.
As Jennie closed the journal, she pulled out the envelope she’d placed in it earlier that day. Once more, she looked at the pictures of her father. Jennie smiled back at the young Jason McGrady with the dark blue eyes and wide, carefree grin. Debbie had written the dates on them and Jennie figured he’d only been about nineteen at the time. When she got to the last picture, she paused.
The man with his arm looped around Ken and Debbie bore little resemblance to the young man in the other photos. He was older and wore a dark heavy beard. She turned the photo over. On the back Debbie had only written the names Jason, Debbie, and Ken—Fort Meyers Beach, 7/7/98. She looked at the picture again.
“This can’t be real,” she whispered. A huge lump formed in her throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. The picture had been taken two months after her father had disappeared.
Jennie hugged it to her chest. She wanted to wake everyone in the house—to shout the good news to the world—especially to her mom. Dad is alive! See, I told you…But a voice inside cautioned her to keep silent.
“Okay,” she whispered. “At least until Gram comes home.” Jennie tucked the pictures back in her journal, stashed it in her nightstand drawer, and turned off the light.
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