Abandoned

by Patricia H. Rushford

  The cameraman waved and pulled away from the curb. Rocky stood in the driveway next to the teal van talking to Debra through the open window.

  “I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Rocky said.

  “Not a problem. I’m just glad to see our men in blue doing their job.” Debra settled a perfectly manicured hand on Rocky’s. “Thanks.”

  Jennie hurried past them to her car and ducked inside. “Jennie, hold on,” she heard Rocky shout over the sound of her engine.

  She heaved an exasperated sigh. Jennie wanted nothing more than to get out of there and go home. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but Dr. Phillips made her feel as though she was the one responsible for his daughter’s disappearance. Now Rocky was probably going to lecture her too.

  You’re not being fair, McGrady. He was nice enough before. Maybe he had information on the license number.

  Rocky stepped up to the car a moment later and pressed his palms against the roof. “I understand you were trying to get ahold of me earlier.”

  “I called to see if you’d gotten a name to go with the license number of the car that was following Annie.”

  “Yes, I did. Your dad gave me the information.”

  “And …”

  “And nothing. You were wrong.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I can’t tell you that. The last thing that lady needs is for you to start harassing her and making accusations.”

  “Can’t you just—”

  “No. I don’t want to get tough with you, Jennie, but rules are rules. Now, the best thing for you to do is butt out and let us handle things.”

  “I still think she was following Annie.”

  “You’ll have to trust me on this one, Jen. You’re way off base. Leave it alone.”

  Jennie swallowed hard and stared straight ahead. “Fine. I’m going home. And I still think the woman in the beige Caddy was following Annie.”

  “Look, you’re a great kid, Jennie. You’ve got a caring heart and a good head on your shoulders. Everyone makes mistakes. Your biggest one right now is not being able to admit you were wrong. You gotta know when to cut your losses.”

  Jennie put the car into gear. “I’d better go. All I seem to be doing here is getting in the way.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.” Rocky stepped back from the car.

  “Right.” Jennie pulled away a little faster than necessary.

  “I should have stayed home and worked on my report.” She glanced at her tear-streaked face in the rearview mirror and brushed the moisture away with the back of her hand. She wasn’t sure what had caused the tears—being yelled at by Dr. Phillips or having Rocky tell her she was wrong. Maybe it was because she hated being wrong.

  Jennie turned into a small market, where she bought a large Coke. She was too upset to go home just yet. She wasn’t really great about hiding her feelings. Mom seemed to know when anything was wrong. The last thing Jennie wanted to do at the moment was talk about it.

  She took the long way home, stopping at the park near her home to walk along the trail by the lake and watch the swans and ducks. By four-thirty she’d worked out most of her anger and hurt and was driving into her driveway. She’d finally accepted the fact that Rocky had a point. She had no proof that the person in the beige Cadillac was following Annie. All she had was her imagination and intuition. Maybe she’d just wanted to believe that her intuition was foolproof.

  There was another answer to Annie’s claim that she was being followed. Maybe Annie just wanted attention. Suppose she found out about the adoption and wanted to get back at her parents. She could have written the column herself and run away. Ridiculous. Jennie reversed the direction her thoughts had taken and went inside. The house smelled like dinner. It was quiet.

  Mom had left a note on the counter. Gone to Kate’s to pick up Nick and to take over Bernie’s dog food and dishes. Dinner’s ready. You can set the table. I’ll be home by six.

  Jennie meandered over to the Crockpot, lifted the lid, and inhaled the wonderful aroma of beef stew. She quickly set the table, then went into the living room and stretched out on the couch. She lay there with her eyes closed for several minutes and felt herself drifting off. Part of her begged for a nap. Another urged her to get up and work on her project. “In a minute,” she told the nagging voice. “Just let me rest …”

  A thud from the room above—her room—brought her fully awake. It took half a second for her brain to register the terrifying fact. She was not home alone.

  9

  She was halfway up the stairs before her common sense kicked in. You don’t confront burglars. You call the police.

  Jennie came to an abrupt halt. She started to make a hasty retreat when the toilet flushed. Jennie stood her ground. She doubted that a burglar would take the time to go to the bathroom and wash his or her hands. The door to the bathroom opened.

  Jennie released the breath she’d been holding and bounced up the remaining steps. “Do you have any idea how many people are looking for you?”

  “Jennie!” Annie stood in the middle of the hallway with her hand on her chest. “You scared me half to death.”

  “Good. Why are you here? How did you get in? The door was locked.”

  Annie ran a hand through her messed-up hair. She looked as though she’d been sleeping. “I … no, it wasn’t. I saw that your car was gone but decided to try the door anyway. I thought everyone was gone. Then I saw that your mom was asleep on the couch. I went up to your room. I … I’m sorry, but I was so tired and needed a place to hang out.”

  “Where did you go after Shawn dropped you off last night?”

  “How did you … ?”

  “Never mind that. Just answer me.” Jennie probably should have been a little more kind, but right now she was fighting mad.

  “I … I stayed outside in the doll house I used to play in when I was a little girl. This morning I waited until Dad left to play golf; then I took off. Can you believe it? I don’t come home all night, and he still has to tee off at seven. I rode the bus around for a while. We went by the park, and I realized I was close to your house. I thought maybe you … Please don’t be mad. I went to your room to wait for you and fell asleep.”

  Jennie opened the door to her room. Her bed had been slept in all right. “The least you can do is make my bed.”

  Annie hurried past her, straightened the sheets, and picked the comforter off the floor, all the while apologizing.

  “Annie, just shut up, okay? I can’t believe you ran away. You have to call your parents.”

  “No.” She snapped up, looking like someone had slapped her. “They lied to me, Jennie. Don’t you understand? My life is over.” She sank onto the bed and buried her face in her hands.

  “Don’t you think you’re making too much of this? So you’re adopted. Millions of kids are adopted. You’ve got parents who love you. There are kids out there who don’t have anyone to take care of them.” Jennie realized she was sounding like her mother, but at the moment she didn’t care. Annie was acting like a spoiled brat.

  “I thought you would understand.”

  Jennie sighed and went to sit beside her. She was having trouble sympathizing. In part, Jennie felt betrayed. “I’m trying. Look at it from my side. You have everything. You’re rich and beautiful. You have a nice home and parents who love you. Besides, I just spent all day worrying that someone kidnapped you.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Think about it. I was afraid that whoever had been following you might have abducted you. I told the police and your father what you’d said. They’re both upset with me. Now I’ll look like an idiot for sure—especially when they find out you’re here.”

  Annie lifted her head. The long, sleepless night had left dark circles under her eyes. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Someone has been f
ollowing me. And you even said—”

  “Dead end. I had the police check the license number on that beige car we thought was your stalker. The police won’t tell me who it is—they’re afraid I’ll harass her. The van you thought was after you belongs to Debra Noble. And she wasn’t following you. Are you sure you’re not making this up?”

  “How can you say that? I thought you were my friend.”

  “Real friends are honest with each other.”

  “I am being honest. I’m not making anything up. I … I’m confused.”

  “I can see that. You need to talk to your mom and dad.”

  “They’re not my—”

  “Don’t even say it.” Jennie held up a hand to silence her. “They may not be your biological parents, and they may have made a mistake in not telling you about the adoption, but they are your parents. To be honest, I think telling a kid she’d been thrown away as a baby would be really hard to do. I don’t blame them for putting it off.” Jennie reached across Annie to the phone on the nightstand and handed her the receiver. “Call them.”

  Annie pushed the phone away. “I can’t. Not yet.”

  “Then I will.”

  “No, please.” She grabbed the phone away from Jennie. “I’ll call. Just give me a few minutes to get used to the idea.”

  Jennie bounced off the bed and paced the floor.

  “I don’t want to get you into trouble, Jennie. Maybe I should leave.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Maybe they’ll be so happy to see you, they won’t care where you were hiding out.”

  “I’ll tell them you didn’t know.” She hung up the phone.

  Jennie sighed. “I doubt they’ll believe you.” She picked up the phone again and punched in the number for information.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Debra Noble.” Jennie asked the operator for Channel 22.

  “You can’t be serious. I don’t want her to know I ran away.”

  “It’s too late for that. She not only knows; she interviewed your parents and me. If I don’t call her to let her know you’re okay, your picture will be on the six o’clock news.” When the receptionist for the station answered, Jennie asked for Debra.

  “Oh no. How could this have happened?” Annie moaned.

  Jennie put a hand over the receiver. “You ran away from home. You told me someone was following you. Your mother called the police because she was worried about you. The entire church is praying for you. In an hour the entire state of Oregon and half of Washington will be looking for you.”

  “Debra isn’t available at the moment. Would you like to leave a message on her voice mail?” the receptionist asked.

  “Yes, thanks.” Jennie waited through the voice mail message.

  “Tell her not to run the interview,” Annie begged.

  Into the phone Jennie said, “Debra, this is Jennie McGrady. I thought you’d like to know Annie’s okay. She doesn’t want you to run the interview. Call me for details.”

  When Jennie hung up, Annie picked up the phone. “I guess I’d better call now, huh?”

  “I think that’s a good idea.” Jennie offered up a quick prayer of thanks. “As soon as you’re finished, I’ll take you home.”

  “Where are you going?” Annie asked.

  “Downstairs. Figured you’d like some privacy. I’ll be in the kitchen. Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

  Jennie wasn’t all that worried about Annie’s privacy. In truth, she’d have liked to stick around to hear what she had to say, but she wanted to use the other phone. She hurried to the phone in the kitchen and dialed Lisa’s number. Aunt Kate answered.

  “She isn’t here, Jennie. I needed the car and dropped her off downtown. I thought you were supposed to pick her and Gavin up at the Oregonian.”

  “Whoops. I forgot. I’ll go get them right away. Is Mom still there?”

  “Yes, did you want to talk to her?”

  “No, that’s okay. Just tell her Annie’s been found. She’s on her way home.”

  “Thank goodness. We’ll let the prayer chain know.”

  “Thanks, I’ll see you later. Love you. Bye.”

  Jennie hung up and called the newspaper office, then waited for the receptionist to put her through to Gavin.

  “Where’s Gavin?” Jennie asked when Lisa came on the line.

  “He’s talking to one of the reporters.”

  “She’s here.”

  “Who?”

  “Annie.”

  “That’s great. Is she okay?”

  “Yeah. She’s calling her parents on my phone upstairs. She was in my room when I came home. Can you believe it?”

  “Well, I’m not surprised she’d come to you,” Lisa said. “I’m glad she’s safe. When are you picking us up? I thought you’d be here by now.”

  “Um … to be honest, I forgot.” Jennie filled her in on the events of the afternoon. “Anyway, when I left the Phillipses’ place I was pretty upset. Then I came home and found Annie. I’m taking her home, then swinging by to pick you up.”

  “Good. I think we have an idea who messed up Gavin’s article.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “I can’t say for sure. That’s what Gavin is talking to the reporter about. We’ll tell you all about it when you pick us up.”

  “I can’t wait. Talk to you later.” Jennie hung up, grabbed a couple of Tootsie Pops from the container in the cupboard, and hurried back to the stairs. “Annie?”

  No answer. A feeling of dread settled deep in Jennie’s stomach. “She wouldn’t.”

  Jennie hurried to her room. It was empty. Jennie had never thought of herself as a violent person, but at the moment she felt like strangling Annie Phillips.

  “Annie?” Jennie called again. Still no answer.

  “Fine,” Jennie muttered. “Run away. See if I care.”

  She ran back downstairs. Maybe Annie was already outside. Even though the thought entered her head, she was surprised to see Annie sitting on the porch swing. Her frustration came out in a huge sigh. “I thought you’d run off again.”

  “I almost did.” Annie looked so sad, Jennie’s anger fizzled like a drowned fire.

  “You did call your parents, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Her wide blue eyes filled with tears. “They aren’t mad at me. At least, that’s what Mom says. Daddy is, I’m sure. Not because I ran away, but because of all the fuss.”

  “You’re right about that. He already is mad—but not at you.” Jennie thought about what he’d said to Rocky about knowing his daughter. Guess he was right about that too.

  Twenty minutes later Jennie dropped Annie off at her house. Jennie opted not to go inside.

  “I’ll call you tonight and let you know how it goes,” Annie promised. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Dad you didn’t have anything to do with my decision.”

  Jennie waited until Annie went inside before driving away. She turned on the radio. Elton John was singing about a guy named Daniel leaving on a plane. Jennie wished she were going with him.

  By the time she reached the newspaper office, Jennie felt better. Annie was home and safe. Gavin and Lisa may have already found the culprit who’d pulled that nasty prank. The big question remaining was the one regarding Annie’s stalker. Now Jennie seriously wondered if there even was one.

  Jennie pulled into a parking place and went inside. Gavin was sitting on the corner of one of the desks, talking to a woman in a white classic-style dress shirt and blue jeans. A tweed blazer hung on the back of her chair. Lisa stood to one side, listening in on their conversation.

  “Hey, Jen—over here.” Gavin waved at her. “I want to show you something.”

  Instead of introducing Jennie to the woman, he shoved a manila folder at her. “Check this out.”

 
Jennie opened it and began to sift through newspaper clippings and articles. The one on top was yellowed—the caption read, “Baby Found in dumpster.” Jennie looked from Gavin to Lisa, then to the woman whose desk they surrounded. She looked familiar, but Jennie couldn’t place her.

  “This is research material for an article I was planning to write for next Sunday’s paper,” the woman said. “I’ve been planning to do a follow-up on throw-away babies to see how they are doing today. In order to do the article, I needed signed releases from all the people involved. I still have three families to go. Paul and Jeanette Phillips are on that list.”

  Jennie frowned. “You were going to write an article?”

  “That’s right. You can understand how shocked I was when Gavin showed me your school paper.”

  Jennie handed the file back to her. “So what are you trying to say? That someone got ahold of your file and—”

  “Not just someone, Jennie. My own daughter.”

  The moment she said it, Jennie knew who the woman was. Everything clicked into place. “You’re Mrs. Brooks,” she said. “Charity’s mom.”

  10

  “Gavin.” Shannon Brooks picked up the file and tapped it on the desk. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am about all this. You can rest assured that Charity will be coming forth with a full apology to Annie Phillips and you and a retraction for the school paper. In fact, I’ll make certain she writes a special letter of apology to everyone involved by Monday.”

  She stuffed the file folders into her briefcase. “I had no idea she’d do something so … so vindictive. I’ll be talking to the principal and Mrs. Andrews as well. I know Charity deserves it, but I hope they don’t suspend her from school.”

  “I guess that will depend on her,” Lisa said. “This will be tough for her. Tell Charity … well, tell her I’ll be around if she needs to talk.”