Abandoned

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “The police … oh, Jennie.” Lisa undid her seat belt and opened the door the moment Jennie stopped at the curb.

  Gavin climbed out and waited for Jennie to join them. “There’s only one car. It can’t be too serious.”

  And no crime scene tape. “Let’s hope so.”

  They hurried up the driveway and took the path to the front door. Lisa rang the doorbell.

  One long minute later, the door opened. Mrs. Ellison, Annie’s grandmother, pushed open the screen door. “Can I help you?”

  “We’re friends of Annie’s,” Jennie said. “She wasn’t in school today and—”

  “You were here the other day, weren’t you?” Mrs. Ellison stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

  “Yes. I’m Jennie McGrady. Um … is Annie okay? We were worried about her.”

  A frown deepened the lines on her tanned face. “I wish I knew. She’s gone again. Jeanette asked me to come by to check on her when she didn’t answer the phone. Annie left a note. My husband is talking with the police right now.”

  “I should call my mom to see if she showed up at my house again.”

  “I doubt that very much, Jennie.” Mrs. Ellison’s gray-green eyes welled up with tears. “The note said she wasn’t coming back. I’m afraid … I’m afraid she may have committed suicide.”

  23

  By six-thirty Friday night, Jennie was ready to quit swimming and drop her extra classes. Never had she worked so hard or been so exhausted. Though she’d managed to turn in the rough draft of her science project, her schedule was packed, and Jennie’s biggest concern was Annie. She’d been missing for three days. The only good news was that they hadn’t found her body. Hopefully that meant she was still alive.

  With hospital visits to Rocky, school, and swimming, Jennie hadn’t had any time to check into Annie’s disappearance. Not that she could. Her father had forbidden her to even bring the subject up. Jennie still harbored terrifying thoughts that Annie’s disappearance had something to do with the bombing of the abortion clinic, Noreen’s and Lucy’s deaths, and the attempt on Debra’s life.

  Jennie planned to visit Annie’s parents on Saturday afternoon after she stopped to see Rocky. She also wanted to talk to Annie’s grandfather. Dr. Ellison had been in practice for about thirty years. He’d told Mom he would give her the names of some doctors who did abortions. Mom didn’t need the list, but Jennie did. Maybe Dr. Ellison knew which doctors had worked at the Marsh Street Clinic when Annie was born. Dad had told her not to get involved, but she couldn’t just do nothing. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to find out who in town did abortions, would it? She was walking a fine line and knew it, but she told herself she could use the information in her science project.

  Jennie was just starting to work on the final draft of her project when the phone rang.

  “Jennie, this is Debra,” the harried voice said. “I need to talk with you. Can you have dinner with me tonight?”

  “Dinner? Um … I guess so. What’s up?” Debra had gone home, but surprisingly, she’d taken Dad’s advice and not appeared on television. She had, however, gone back to work.

  “I can’t explain it over the phone. Just come to the studios. We can go from there.”

  “I can’t. Dad said he didn’t want me going anywhere alone.”

  “Then I’ll pick you up. Will that work?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Good. I’ll be there in … say, twenty minutes?”

  “Sure.” Jennie hung up and hurriedly brushed her teeth and hair, then scribbled a quick note to her parents. Mom and Dad were going out to dinner at McDonald’s and taking Nick to see a movie. Jennie had opted not to go with them. She was glad now that she hadn’t and felt certain her parents wouldn’t mind her going out with Debra. She was, after all, still under police protection.

  While she waited, Jennie let all the details of the investigation tumble back to the foreground of her mind. She hadn’t been able to catch Debra long enough to talk to her about the specifics of her abortion. Jennie’s intuition burned to link Debra and Annie together. Unfortunately, she needed proof.

  She’d never been able to come up with a logical explanation as to why Noreen Smith had placed Annie in that trash bin and called from the pay phone. She still believed there had been a live fetus and that for some reason Noreen hadn’t wanted the clinic, herself, or the doctor implicated. So she did the only thing possible that would still give the baby a fighting chance.

  That baby, of course, was Annie. Jennie also felt certain that the woman in the phone booth with the white shoes was not Annie’s mother, but Noreen Smith. Unfortunately, everything was speculation. As far as she knew, the police had no substantial leads regarding Noreen’s death. When she’d asked her father if Lucy’s and Noreen’s deaths were linked, he’d said, “It doesn’t look that way.” Lucy, Dad had told her after she’d asked him for the umpteenth time, had committed suicide by taking an overdose of prescription drugs. She’d even left a suicide note. There had been nothing in either Noreen’s or Lucy’s home to indicate that the two had kept contact over the years. According to Lucy’s family, she’d been despondent since the Marsh Street Clinic bombing and worried about finding a job.

  Still, Jennie held on to her original suspicions. Now she was finally going to have a chance to question Debra. Maybe the missing puzzle pieces would join to form the picture she’d been putting together all along—that Debra was Annie’s mother.

  What if you’re wrong, McGrady? Jennie reminded herself. A strange kind of anxiety filled Jennie’s spirit. She hated being wrong. Gladys could have been mistaken about the woman not being Annie’s mother. As Dad had said, “We have no proof. It’s entirely possible that the mother was a nurse.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to go with me, Jennie,” Debra said when Jennie climbed into the passenger seat of Debra’s beige Cadillac. As usual, Debra was wearing a fashionable suit—this one in a rich blue that brought out the blue in her eyes.

  “No problem.” Jennie glanced into the backseat, then out to the road. “Where’s your police escort?”

  “I decided I didn’t need one anymore.” She backed down the drive. “I thought we’d go to Antonio’s. Do you like Italian?”

  “Sure. Aren’t you scared? I mean, you were almost killed, and they haven’t found the guy yet. And why aren’t you wearing your disguise?”

  “I don’t always wear it. Besides, there haven’t been any more attempts on my life. I feel terrible about Officer Rockwell. He almost died trying to save me. I’d just as soon not have anyone else hurt. Anyway, I figure if it’s my time to go … But let’s not talk about that.”

  Twenty minutes later, they entered Antonio’s, where Debra had made reservations. They were seated at a table near the back of the restaurant.

  Feeling underdressed and out of place in her jeans and T-shirt, Jennie settled her jacket over the back of the chair. “Um … I guess I should have changed.”

  “You’re fine.” Debra spread a white linen napkin over her lap and picked up the menu. Jennie did the same.

  After choosing lasagna and salad, Jennie set the menu aside.

  “What did you want to talk to me about, Jennie?” Debra closed her menu as well.

  “Me? What makes you think I wanted to talk? You’re the one who called me.”

  Debra smiled. “Yes, I did, but I can tell the feeling is mutual.”

  “I do want to ask you some questions, but you go first.”

  “I’d like to see the killer caught,” Debra went on. “I was hoping we could work together.”

  “Work together?”

  “Yes. I’ve been doing some investigating on my own. Nothing against your father, Jennie, but I’m not happy with the way things are going.”

  “He caught the serial killer.”

  She snorted. “Right—the guy practic
ally gave himself up. I think the more dangerous one is still out there somewhere, and … well, I don’t like being a victim.”

  “I don’t know what I can do. Dad hasn’t told me much. Besides, I’m not supposed to be involved.”

  “Maybe not, but I know you’ve been investigating on your own. So have I. I know you went to the Park Hill Clinic and talked to Ellen. She gave you Lucy’s phone number, and now Lucy is dead.”

  “How did you—”

  “Make the connection? The same way you did. I followed the same trail you were on. Talked to the woman who owned the store and started digging into Noreen’s life. In fact, I went to her home—an upscale condo on the waterfront.”

  Jennie grimaced. “That was on my list of stuff to do before Dad got paranoid.”

  “You can save yourself the trouble. Like I said, if we share information, maybe we can figure this thing out.”

  Jennie hesitated. On one hand, Dad might be mad. On the other, maybe Debra had information the police could use. “Okay, on one condition. Whatever we dig up we give to my dad.”

  Debra smiled. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

  “What did you find out about Noreen?”

  “I was suspicious about her living in such a nice place on the salary she was pulling in. A neighbor said she’d come into an inheritance when her parents died. I managed to get ahold of her bank statements—”

  “How?”

  “Computers are wonderful tools, Jennie, and when you know someone … Let’s just say I have a friend who feeds me information. What matters is that Noreen’s deposits included quarterly payments of $10,000 up until her death. I think she was blackmailing someone. The blackmailer got tired of the game and killed her.”

  “But who?”

  “Paul Phillips, maybe? He was on duty at the hospital the day Annie was brought in. He and his wife were desperate for a baby. Suppose he and his wife stole a baby out of the nursery and the trash thing was just a setup …” She frowned. “But that wouldn’t work, would it? There were no missing babies, just an extra one.”

  Jennie licked her lips. “Debra, I need to ask you something.”

  “Shoot.”

  “It’s about your abortion. Can you tell me where you had it?”

  “Where?” She frowned. “In Portland.”

  “Yes, but where? Did you go to a clinic? If so, which one?”

  Debra picked up her water glass and took a drink. She set it down before answering. “It was a long time ago. I don’t remember. Why do you want to know?”

  Jennie wasn’t certain she believed her. “It might be important.”

  “Can I take your order?” The waiter, a tall young man in a white shirt and black tie, wrote down their selections and left.

  “I left Portland the day after I graduated from high school. I couldn’t bear to stay here. Not after … I thought maybe going to another town, meeting other people, might help. It didn’t. I’ve lived just about everywhere during the last sixteen years. Finally I decided I needed to come back here and face my fears.”

  “Why were you looking into Noreen Smith’s death?” Jennie asked. “Did you recognize her? Was she working at the clinic where you had the abortion?”

  Debra shook her head. “No, I …”

  She was lying again. Maybe Debra was more closely related to the death of the two women and the bombing of the clinic than Jennie had originally thought. Debra had been away for a long time. She harbored guilt about having an abortion. Had she come back to seek revenge? Had she killed Noreen and torn her own place apart? She could have put on men’s shoes to make it look like a man had been there. Had she hired someone to take a shot at Rocky, making it look like the gunman was after her? Had she bombed the clinic?

  “Was it the Marsh Street Clinic?” Jennie ran a finger along the handle of her knife.

  Debra closed her eyes. “I don’t know. Jennie, please. I’ve spent sixteen years trying to forget. I really don’t see any point in talking about it.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s painful for you, but I need to ask. How far along were you when you had your abortion?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Debra, please answer me. If my hunch is right, Annie could be your daughter.”

  “That’s impossible. My baby died.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. What if your baby survived? What if Noreen Smith was working at the Marsh Street Clinic the day you had the abortion?”

  Debra stared at her water glass. “I was seven months along. And, yes, it was at the Marsh Street Clinic.”

  “What time did you have it done?”

  “It was late—after hours. The doctor said he had to do it after hours because he was all booked up. I think it was because he didn’t want anyone to know he’d done a late-term.”

  “Before Annie was found?”

  “Maybe—I couldn’t say. I remember there being only one nurse.”

  “Noreen Smith.”

  “I don’t know. And I really don’t see how any of this relates.” Debra picked up her coffee cup with a shaky hand.

  “I think Noreen Smith was working in the Marsh Street Clinic sixteen years ago. I think she’s the one who put Annie into the dumpster and called the police.”

  “But … how can that be? The police were looking for Annie’s mother.”

  “What the police didn’t know was that the woman who called them that night was wearing white shoes. Nursing shoes. The clinic was only half a block away from the trash bin. See, I think Noreen Smith was assisting with a late-term abortion that went wrong—or maybe I should say right. Annie was supposed to have been aborted, but she lived. I think Annie is your daughter.”

  Debra rubbed her forehead. “It can’t be.”

  “Who was your doctor—the one who performed the abortion?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “How can you not remember your doctor?”

  “I was very young, Jennie. As I said before, all I wanted to do was forget. I thought my baby was dead. Besides, I only saw the doctor a couple of times.”

  “Don’t you have any records or anything with a name on it? A bill? A receipt?”

  “No. Nothing. I threw everything away. I’d give anything to know his name.” A hard look passed across her features, then disappeared.

  “The records were all destroyed in the bombing,” Debra said. “That much the police told me. There was no way to prove Noreen worked there. I imagine that, like us, they’re trying to track down other employees. All I’ve been able to find out was that there was a large turnover.”

  Over dinner they talked about how they might find out which doctors in town had access to the Marsh Street Clinic. Jennie assured Debra that her father would take care of it.

  Debra wasn’t listening. “What about your mother’s gynecologist?”

  “Dr. Ellison doesn’t do abortions.”

  “No, but he could tell us who does. She told me he had been in practice for over thirty years and was nearing retirement. Maybe he can give us some names.”

  “Actually, I was going to ask him that tomorrow.”

  “Why not tonight?”

  “I don’t think so. My parents don’t like me to stay out late.”

  Jennie could hardly wait to get out of the restaurant. She needed to talk to her dad about Debra’s motives. Now it looked as though Debra was using Jennie to track down the doctor who had killed her baby. The more Jennie thought about it, the more sense it made. In a way Jennie hoped she was wrong. She hated thinking Annie’s birth mother might be a killer. If indeed Debra was Annie’s mother.

  They left the restaurant at seven-thirty. Five minutes later, Jennie was sitting in the driver’s seat of Debra’s car. Which would have been fine if Debra hadn’t been sitting next to her holding a gun.


  24

  “Where are we going?” Jennie said, trying to keep her voice calm. Terror edged its way through her body like tentacles of some alien being.

  “Just drive. Get on the freeway and head for Lake Oswego.”

  Jennie focused on getting out of the downtown area. Once they were on the freeway heading south, she tried talking to Debra again. “Why are you doing this? It could ruin your career, and if Annie really is your child …”

  “She is. I’m sure of that now. A blood test will prove it. The moment I talked to Gladys at that little mom-and-pop place and saw where the Marsh Street Clinic had been, I knew it. The time Annie was found coincides with the time they performed—or I should say botched—the abortion on me. I don’t know what happened or who Noreen was blackmailing, but I intend to find out. And when I do …”

  “You’re going to kill the doctor, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. He destroyed my life—took away my baby. He deserves to die.”

  “That might be, but you made the choice. Besides, you need to let the—”

  “Let the police take care of it? I don’t think so. The man has covered his trail too well. He killed Noreen and Lucy and tried to kill me twice.”

  Jennie gave her a sidelong glance. “You’re saying you didn’t kill Noreen?”

  Debra jerked back, looking as if Jennie had slapped her. “Of course not.”

  “Then why are you holding a gun on me? Why are you making me go with you?”

  “I’ve got to find him, and you’re going to help me. Dr. Ellison seems like the most likely person to contact. Like you said, he might know which of his colleagues worked at the clinic.”

  “Somehow I don’t think the gun is going to convince him to tell you anything.”

  “That’s why I brought you. I thought he might be more open to you than me.” Debra glanced at the gun as if it were a foreign object. “Oh, you’re probably right. I … I’m not thinking straight. I shouldn’t have forced you to come with me. This entire thing is crazy, Jennie. I have to find the doctor who aborted Annie. I have to know for sure.”