Abandoned

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Abandoned Page 10

by Patricia H. Rushford


  “I’m not sure. My mother would prefer that to my being a cop. I’d like to do something more …”

  “Adventurous?”

  “Yeah.”

  Debra then went on to ask several more questions about her family. As they talked, Jennie began to relax. Though she did mention that Detective Jason McGrady was Jennie’s father and was working on the triple-murder investigation, she didn’t ask Jennie about the investigation itself.

  Toward the end of the interview, Debra brought up Jennie’s success on the swim team. “Your coach tells me you could compete in the Olympics if you chose to. Any plans on going for the gold?”

  “It takes a lot of commitment to be an Olympic athlete. I’m not sure I’d want to do that. My mom’s having a baby soon and needs my help. I enjoy swimming, but I’m not sure I want to put that much effort into sports—at least not now.”

  Debra asked a few more questions about the meet, then went on to Jennie’s involvement in several criminal investigations.

  Jennie felt uncomfortable talking about her investigative skills, and when Debra asked about them, Jennie shrugged and said, “I’m just curious, I guess. I don’t like to see people getting away with things. I suppose that’s why I want to go into law enforcement. I think criminals should be caught and punished. There are too many people today literally getting away with murder.”

  “I’d like to explore that further with you, but our time is up. You are an amazing young woman, Jennie. Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to talk with us.”

  “No problem.” Jennie smiled into the camera until the producer signaled an end to the session.

  Debra thanked her again off the air. “Before you go, I wonder if you have any thoughts about the pro-life murders?”

  Jennie tensed. “I don’t know much about them. Anyway, I thought you weren’t going to ask me about that.”

  “Not on the air. And I’m not grilling you, am I?” Without waiting for an answer, she said, “In each case the victim was a known and vocal pro-life advocate. The killer always leaves a calling card—did you know that? You didn’t, did you? Most people don’t.”

  When Jennie didn’t answer, she said, “It’s frightening what some people do for a political cause. Do you suppose the murders are retaliation against the protest marches and bombings of abortion clinics?”

  “I really don’t know.” Jennie swallowed hard. “What are you getting at?”

  “To be honest, Jennie, I’m not sure. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but I have made my pro-life stand public on a number of occasions. I volunteer at one of the crisis pregnancy centers run by our local Right to Life organization.”

  “So you think you’re in danger—that you could be next?”

  “There is that possibility.”

  “Maybe you should ask the police for protection.”

  Debra tossed her an incredulous look. “Don’t get me wrong, Jennie. I respect our men in blue. But I know exactly what they’d say—there’s no way we can offer protection to all the possible victims. There’s no reason why it should be me and not some of the others, except that I’ve gotten pretty vocal lately.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I hope you’ve got a good security system, and maybe you should hire a bodyguard.”

  “I’ve thought of that. And I’m having a security system installed tomorrow.”

  Jennie excused herself, and Debra told her she’d like to talk to her later.

  During her trip to swim practice, Jennie worried over what to tell Lisa and Gavin. She shouldn’t have gotten them involved in checking out the license number. She didn’t want to lie to them, but she couldn’t betray Debra’s confidence either.

  Once in the pool, Jennie tried to set her concerns aside and empty her mind of everything but swimming laps. The water worked its usual miracle, easing away the tension and clearing her head. The one thing she couldn’t seem to shake was the gut feeling that something terrible was about to happen. The problem with intuition, or a sixth sense, as Gram often called it, was that you didn’t know what would happen or whom it would happen to. “All you can do is pray,” Gram had told her. “And let God take care of the rest.”

  During the next two laps Jennie did pray. I don’t know what’s going on, God, but if I’m right, someone is going to get hurt. Protect whoever it is.

  When she came up, a whistle shrilled and echoed through the pool area. “Come on, Jennie,” DeeDee yelled. “You can do better. Take a break and next time put some effort into it.”

  “Sorry,” Jennie mumbled. She hauled herself up and swung around to sit on the ledge. Her arms felt like mush.

  “Hey, Jennie.” Russ sat down beside her. “Don’t feel bad—we all have our off days.”

  She grinned. “I guess this is one of mine.” She glanced at the stands, where Annie and Lisa were sitting with several other students and parents. “Looks like Annie’s gotten over her crisis.”

  “Shawn says she’s faking it. I think she’s trying, but this adoption thing is tearing her apart inside.”

  “You can’t blame her for being upset. It’ll take time, but she’ll come around.”

  “Yeah—maybe. I just hope it isn’t too late. Shawn is losing his patience.” He slipped into the water and swam away.

  Jennie got out, dried off, and headed for the stands. Something about Russ’ remark made her wonder if Annie and Shawn had been arguing.

  “I don’t care what the coach says. You look great out there.” Lisa curled a strand of her hair around her finger.

  “Thanks, but she’s right. I wasn’t concentrating—at least, not on swimming.”

  “How did your interview with Debra go?” Annie asked.

  Jennie shrugged. “Good—I guess. I’m not much for that sort of thing.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.” Annie’s smile faded. “Jennie … um … I’ve been thinking. I’d really like to find my birth mom, and I want you to help me.”

  14

  Jennie winced. “I’m not sure trying to find your birth mother is a good idea, Annie.”

  “Maybe not, but I need to know what happened and why she couldn’t keep me. Mom and Dad said she was probably young and couldn’t take care of me. I need to know what she’s like—I want to know who I am and where I came from. Shawn thinks I’m crazy, but I feel like it’s something I have to do.”

  “You’re not crazy—it’s just not a good plan. I really doubt she will want to be found. She’s still wanted by the police.”

  “I know, but I have to try. I’m not who I thought I was. Please, Jennie, will you help me?”

  “Have you told your parents? Seems like they’re in a better position to find out than I am. After all, your dad was there when they brought you into the hospital.”

  “No—and don’t you tell them. It would just upset them.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “They gave me an album. It has newspaper articles in it and Mom’s journal about me. I don’t know if it will be much help.”

  Jennie drew in a deep breath. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look at it. If the police had any clues, though, I’m sure they would have found her.”

  “Jennie,” DeeDee called from across the pool. “You’re up for the 500—see if you can better your record.”

  “Coming.” Turning back to Lisa and Annie she said, “We’ll talk later.”

  At six-thirty, Jennie dragged herself from the car to the house. She’d managed a decent performance at swim practice but couldn’t seem to clock as good a time as she had before. Her mind weighed heavily with Annie and her request: After practice she’d taken Lisa home and promised to call Annie later. She didn’t have a good feeling about it. But then, what else was new?

  Mom set a bowl of salad on the kitchen table as Jennie came in. There was onl
y one setting at the table.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “He came home for an early dinner, then went back to work.” A fleeting look of worry crossed her face.

  “Did he say why?” Jennie climbed onto the stool at the bar.

  She shook her head. “No, but I’m sure it has something to do with the murder investigation he’s been working so hard on. He’s getting a lot of pressure to find this serial killer before he strikes again.”

  Jennie gave her a hug and inhaled the spicy aroma of whatever Mom had been cooking. “Smells good. What is it?”

  “You’re favorite—spaghetti with meat sauce.”

  “Mommy,” Nick called from upstairs. “I’m done with my bath.”

  Mom pulled a plate out of the cupboard. “Would you be a dear and get Nick out of the tub and into his pajamas? I’ll dish up the rest of your dinner.”

  “Sure.” Jennie sauntered out of the kitchen, through the dining room and entry, then took the stairs two at a time. It felt good to see Mom happy and healthy again. Well, mostly happy. She was worried about Dad—Jennie was too.

  “Hey, buddy, are you sure you had water in that tub? All I can see are toys.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I letted the water out. Can’t you see I’m all wet? I even washeded my hair.”

  “Yeah, but you forgot to rinse it.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  She took his hand and put it on his head. “Feel that gooey stuff? It’s shampoo.”

  “Oh.” He gave her a sheepish grin.

  “Hey, don’t feel bad. You got most of it out. When hair is as thick as ours, you gotta rinse it a bunch of times.”

  “You gonna pour water over my head?”

  “Yep. Close your eyes.” Jennie rinsed his hair while he sputtered, then helped him out of the tub. Wrapping him in a towel, she gave him a hug and a smoochy kiss. “You smell like bubbles.”

  “That’s ’cause I put bubbles in there.”

  “You are too cute.” She towel-dried his hair and wrapped him in the towel again, then carried him into his room. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

  “I can dress myself,” he said importantly when she set him down. “You go away now so I can have some piracy.”

  Jennie chuckled. “You mean privacy.”

  “That’s what I said. Now go!” He was getting to the age where he didn’t want help with much of anything.

  “Okay, I’m going.” While Jennie understood his need to become more independent, she missed taking care of him. She was going to enjoy having a new baby around.

  Jennie went back downstairs, attacked her dinner, then, after helping Nick with a puzzle, headed upstairs to do her homework. When she finished that, she would call Annie.

  Five minutes into her reading assignment for history, her eyes drifted closed. She’d made the mistake of sitting on her bed with her head resting against her pillow. Jennie let the book slide off her lap and onto the floor. She scooted down, fluffed up her pillow, and gave into the exhaustion she’d been feeling all day.

  When she woke up it was dark, the room filled with shadows. Without turning on the light, Jennie got out of bed and went to sit in the window seat. The half-moon illuminated the gold and red leaves lingering on the big oak tree. She leaned her head against the window, thinking of her conversation with Debra earlier, then with Annie. She wondered if it was still early enough to call, but she made no move to do so. Instead, she watched a leaf flutter and drift to the ground.

  Drifting. That’s how Jennie felt at the moment. Disconnected. She closed her eyes. A wariness still lingered in her mind—that sixth sense of hers predicting danger without giving any details.

  “Princess? You in here?”

  Jennie’s heart jumped to her throat.

  “Dad! You scared me.” Jennie willed her heart back in her chest. “I didn’t hear you come in. What are you doing—what time is it?”

  “Almost eleven. Your mom said you’d fallen asleep doing your homework. She asked if I’d check on you.”

  “Oh. I’m okay.” She stretched and yawned. “Just sleepy.”

  “You looked deep in thought. Anything you want to talk about?”

  “Uh … no. Not really.” Jennie wished she could tell him about the conversation she’d had with Debra, but she wouldn’t—not yet.

  “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be downstairs. I’m going to watch the news before I turn in.”

  When her dad left, she turned on the light, then sat on her bed and waited for her eyes to adjust. She undid her braid and picked her book off the floor. She’d have to set her alarm early and do her math assignment in the morning. It would be just like Mrs. Wish to give them a pop quiz.

  More awake now, Jennie went downstairs to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of juice.

  Her father had stretched out in his recliner. With the remote he turned on the television set, then muted a car commercial. He shifted his weary gaze to Jennie.

  “Looks like you had a rough day,” Jennie said.

  “I’ve had better. Yours was good, though, I hear. I saw the interview you did with Ms. Noble. Nice job. Your mom recorded it. Want to watch it?”

  Jennie wrinkled her nose. “I lived through it once—that’s enough.”

  “I imagine it is. You’re like me in that regard.” The news came on, and Dad clicked the mute off.

  Phil, the news anchor she’d met at the station, opened the segment. “Police are continuing their investigation into the murders of the three pro-life leaders. So far they have no suspects in the case. Channel 22 has just had word that the killer may have attempted to strike again.”

  Jennie’s dad snapped his recliner up. “What?”

  “Our own Debra Noble is the killer’s most recent target.”

  15

  Jennie froze. “This can’t be happening.”

  “Fortunately,” the news anchor went on to say, “Debra was able to escape. She’s on the scene now.”

  “I don’t believe this.” Dad was on his feet and reaching for his cell phone.

  Jennie couldn’t believe it either. Only that afternoon Debra had expressed fear that she might be next. Now this. Without taking her eyes off the screen, Jennie sank onto the couch.

  The camera shifted to a close-up of Debra Noble standing in front of a squad car with its lights flashing. Behind them was a house with the door open and several police officers milling around. The crime scene had already been secured with yellow tape.

  “Tell us what happened out there, Debra,” Phil said.

  “It’s been a harrowing evening, Phil. I came home at nine-thirty, and my house had been ransacked. At first I thought I’d been robbed, but then I realized someone was still in the house. I ran to the neighbors and called the police, but by the time they arrived, the intruder was gone.”

  “How do you know it was the serial killer?”

  She placed a hand on her heart. “The police found the same kind of sick note on my desk that the serial killer left pinned to his victims. He was apparently planning to kill me.”

  “What’s going on?” Detective McGrady barked into the phone. “Why wasn’t I notified?”

  “Did you get a look at him, Debra?” Phil asked.

  “No, Phil, unfortunately not. All I could think of was to get as far away as possible and call the police. It’s been a terrifying experience, but the police are hopeful that the killer got careless this time and left some leads. I can tell you one thing—after tonight, I’m hiring a bodyguard.”

  Phil thanked her and moved on to report another bank robbery in downtown Portland.

  Jennie rubbed her arms. Was this why she’d had that uneasy feeling all day? Maybe she should have taken Debra’s comments more seriously.

  “So when were you planning to let me know?” Dad grabbe
d his suit jacket off the chair and shrugged into it. “Yeah. I’m on my way.”

  “Dad?”

  “Not now, honey. I have to get over to Ms. Noble’s house.”

  “I want to come.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Today after the interview, Debra told me she thought she’d be next. Please let me come with you. You need to hear this.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “All right. I’ll write your mom a note in case she wakes up and finds us gone. But hurry.”

  Jennie raced upstairs, grabbed her shoes and a sweat shirt, and made a beeline for the car.

  “Tell me what she said.” Dad wasted no time in getting to the point.

  After pulling on her sweat shirt and settling back against the seat, Jennie repeated the conversation she’d had with Debra after the taping. “Do you think maybe she was having a premonition or something?”

  “Or something,” he muttered.

  Jennie frowned. “You don’t think she’s making this up, do you?”

  “Think about it, Jennie. She talks to you about the possibility, telling you she fits the profile of the other victims. She wants police protection, so she fakes an attack to get it. You heard her—she didn’t see the intruder—apparently no one did.”

  “I don’t think she’d do that.”

  “Gut feeling?”

  “Yeah.” She met his challenge head on. “A gut feeling.”

  “Okay. You know her better than I do. Let’s see what you think after we talk to her.”

  Jennie suppressed a smile, pleased that he would take her seriously.

  Her father pulled up behind several other squad cars and jumped out. Jennie tagged along behind her dad as he wove through the crowd. Debra was sitting in one of the squad cars in the driveway, drinking a cup of coffee. Jennie’s father got a report from one of the officers that pretty much matched Debra’s story. Lab people were going over the house looking for clues.

  When she saw Jennie and Detective McGrady, Debra left the car and walked toward them. She was still wearing the pink suit and matching heels she’d been wearing during their interview. “Well, if it isn’t the detective and his famous daughter. Wasn’t I right, Jennie?” She sighed. Turning to Jennie’s dad she said, “I suppose you want me to tell you what happened too.”

 

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