by Karen Leabo
“Are you two getting hungry?” Joe asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” Jenn said. She was actually rediscovering her appetite after the poor effort she’d made at lunch. “How ’bout you, punkin?” she asked Cathy.
“I want McDonald’s,” Cathy responded.
“We’ll do a whole lot better than that.” Joe said confidently. “My friend Zig said he’d throw some steaks on the grill as soon as we get there. And the beer will be cold.”
Cathy made a face. “Steaks and beer?”
But Jenn’s mouth was watering. Lord, how long had it been since she’d had a real steak?
Joe laughed. “I expect there’ll be a couple of hamburgers and hot dogs on that grill, too. And maybe we’ll find some Kool-Aid to drink.”
“That’s better,” Cathy said with a nod of satisfaction. “Are we almost there?”
“Almost.”
“Really?” Jenn said. “We’re stopping early tonight.”
“You’re not complaining, are you?”
“No,” Jenn said hastily. “When is Dennis expecting us?”
“I told him we’d get there when we get there. He didn’t much like that, but I didn’t give him any other options. The airline pilots are still on strike.”
Thank goodness for that, Jenn thought.
Ten minutes later they were jiggling their way down a narrow road that almost wasn’t. “The Connallys like their privacy,” Joe explained.
His friends Zig and Fran Connally lived in a huge two-story house made of rough cedar timbers. It sat on a narrow, heavily wooded peninsula with decks jutting out at both front and back. Jenn sighed when she got her first look at it. It was the kind of house she’d always wanted to live in, where she could lie outside in a hammock reading her gardening books, then putter around in flower beds for her own pleasure.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Joe said as he pulled up next to several other vehicles in a small gravel lot. It looked as if the Connallys already had lots of company.
“Are you sure we’re not intruding?” Jenn asked, though she knew it was ludicrous for her to be worrying about social niceties when she was still technically Joe’s prisoner.
“The more the merrier,” Joe said confidently.
They’d scarcely cleared the car when a man and woman in their late sixties came barreling out the front door. With a start Jenn realized she knew the man, or at least she recalled a slightly younger version of him. He used to talk at safety assemblies when she was in high school.
“Andresi, you ol’ dog, I can’t believe you drove all the way out here,” Zig Connally said, pumping Joe’s hand. “You remember my wife, Fran, don’t you?”
“Of course. Who could forget the woman who made the best apple pie in the whole county? It’s good to see you, Fran.” He gave the older woman a peck on the cheek, causing her to blush and pat her short salt-and-pepper hair. “I’d like you both to meet my, um, friends. This is Jenn Montgomery and her daughter, Cathy.”
“Thanks for having us,” Jenn said. She hadn’t missed Joe’s reference to them as “friends,” though what else could he say?
“Oh, we live for visitors,” Fran said graciously to Jenn. But her attention was already focused on Cathy. She stooped slightly so she was more on the little girl’s level. “Aren’t you a pretty thing!” she said, her face a roadmap of fine lines as she smiled broadly. “Are you having a fun vacation?”
“It’s not a vacation,” Cathy said, looking puzzled. “We’re Mr. ’Dresi’s prisoners. He’s taking us to jail.”
Chapter 11
By the tone of Cathy’s voice, she might as well have admitted that Joe was taking them to Disneyland. Clearly she didn’t think it was such a bad deal being in Joe’s custody.
Neither did her mother, not anymore.
That didn’t stop Jenn from wanting to sink into the earth and never be seen again. Emily Post had never prepared her for the eventuality of having to admit to your hosts that you were a fugitive from the law.
Fran’s eyebrows flew up at Cathy’s confession, and Zig treated Joe to a penetrating stare.
“I’ll explain it all later,” Joe said, sounding not the least bit worried. “It’s kinda complicated.”
“I can’t wait,” Zig said, although now he appeared more amused than concerned, as if he trusted that Joe wouldn’t compromise him or put his family at risk.
Frank quickly recovered her composure, as well. “Cathy, I have a granddaughter about your age, and she’s playing with some neighbor kids out back. Would you like to join them?”
Cathy’s eyes lit up. She looked on the verge of vigorous assent, but then she glanced up at her mother. “Can I, Mama?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“I’ll take her back and introduce her to the other children, if that’s okay,” Fran said. At Jenn’s nod and smile, she disappeared around the side of the house with Cathy in tow.
Joe and Zig were already deep in conversation, headed up the stairs to the front door. Jenn tagged along, though far enough behind that she couldn’t hear what was being said. She assumed that Joe was filling Zig in on the situation, getting a second opinion from someone he respected. The thought made her nervous. What if Zig, a former sheriff’s deputy, advised Joe to turn her over to the police, collect his reward from Dennis, and wash his hands of her?
Fran reappeared shortly. “There’s an older neighbor girl keeping an eye on the little ones,” she said. “Cathy will be fine.”
“I’m sure she’ll have a blast.”
“Well, I’ve got things to see to in the kitchen—”
“Can I help you with anything?” Jenn immediately offered. If she kept busy with her hands, she wouldn’t worry so much about what the men were discussing.
Fran’s warm smile returned. “I can always find something that needs doing. How are you at making hamburger patties?”
“An expert. I once worked in a truck stop kitchen and I did nothing but make hamburger patties for five days straight.”
“Come on, then. Have I got a deal for you.”
As soon as they were alone in the kitchen, Jenn felt compelled to explain her daughter’s odd revelation. “Look, Fran, I know you must be wondering just who the heck you’ve let into your house—”
“I am,” she admitted. “But I trust Joe completely.”
“The truth is, I’m wanted back in Rhymer. I kidnapped my own daughter and ran with her. My stepfather hired Joe to find me and bring me back.”
“Something tells me there’s more than meets the eye here,” Fran observed shrewdly.
Before she knew it, Jenn was telling Fran the whole miserable story. She figured the woman deserved to know exactly to whom she was extending her hospitality.
Fran didn’t even hesitate. She threw her arms around Jenn and hugged her tightly. “You did exactly what I would have done, what any mother would do. There’s no question. You cannot allow the courts to turn your child over to an abuser. I know Zig will agree with me.”
The strength of Fran’s support took Jenn’s breath away.
“I know what you’re feeling, at least partly,” Fran said. “Our own daughter was molested. It was an isolated incident, nothing like you went through, but let me tell you, I would have strung that man up if I could have.”
“Did he go to jail?” Jenn asked.
“Not then. Later he did, based on another offense. But all of that happened twenty years ago. Things are different today. Accusations of abuse are taken very seriously.”
“I hope you’re right. If I make the wrong decision, if I cause my daughter even one moment of unnecessary pain, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Dinner was a wild and woolly event. Zig grilled steaks, chicken, hamburgers—whatever he’d been able to find in the freezer. Several of the Connallys’ offspring showed up, along with more grandkids. The laughter and shenanigans at the dinner table reminded Joe of his own family, the way it had been when he was younger.
He recalled
Jenn’s perceptive questions about his close relationships, or lack thereof, and silently acknowledged that something really was missing from his life. He was enjoying the friendly rivalry among Zig’s kids and grandkids, the sense of belonging each of them obviously felt.
When everyone was through, Jenn stood to help clear the table, but Zig stopped her. “Let the girls do that,” he said, referring to two of his grown daughters. “Joe and I need to talk with you privately.”
Jenn’s stomach did a somersault. With an apologetic shrug to the other women, Jenn abandoned the dirty dishes and followed the two men like a condemned prisoner being led to the guillotine.
They convened in a spacious study. The room was clearly a male hideaway, with big fish mounted on wall plaques and a good bit of masculine clutter.
Jenn sat down on a big corduroy sofa. Joe sat next to her, while Zig pulled up a well-worn easy chair.
“Joe’s filled me in on your situation,” Zig said, addressing Jenn without any preliminaries.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Joe said, his forehead creased with concern. “I told him everything. I needed his advice.”
“I guess it’s okay,” Jenn said, though she wasn’t at all sure. It seemed as if suddenly everyone in the world knew her darkest secrets.
“Young lady,” Zig said, “you’ve picked yourself a hell of an adversary. Dennis Palmer is one of the most powerful men in Rhymer County, maybe in the state, and one of the most respected. He doesn’t take kindly to criticism, much less an outright attack on his character.”
“You sound as if you know him personally,” Jenn said.
“I do. Can’t say we were ever friends, but I had numerous professional dealings with him. He’s smart and he’s mean. But I guess I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”
Jenn nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“That said, I don’t mean to say you can’t beat him. It might be easier than you think. A scandal like that in a small town like Rhymer would ruin him, utterly. Even if it was never proved, the shadow of doubt might be enough to do his reputation serious harm. So the threat of going public with your accusations might be all you need to get him to back down.”
Jenn shook her head. “I’ve thought of that. But he’s convinced no one will believe me. He’s already told a lot of people I’m unbalanced. He can point to the fact that I was under a therapist’s care, and that if I was desperate enough to take Cathy and flee, I’m desperate enough to do or say anything. I can’t depend on his fear of discovery.”
“But all you need is one person to back you up.”
“I can’t imagine who it would be,” Jenn said hopelessly.
“Hank,” Joe said suddenly. “Your sister’s boyfriend. If he helped her to run away, he probably knew.”
“It’s possible,” Jenn said without much conviction.
“Do you remember his last name?” Joe asked, watching her closely.
Jenn sensed that a lot might be riding on her answer. But after almost a minute of shaking her memory down, she came up empty-handed. “I don’t know. I haven’t laid eyes on him, or even heard his name mentioned, since I was seven.”
“Think on it,” Joe said. “It might be important.”
“Okay.” She tried again. “Let’s see, it seems like he was a good ol’ Southern boy with a name like Lee or Jackson, some Confederate general. But...oh, shoot, I can’t remember.”
“Stuart?” Joe suggested. “Butler?”
“I think Butler was a Yankee.”
“History was never my long suit. Think on it some more,” he said.
“If not him, then someone else,” Zig said. “There has to be someone else. No pedophile I ever heard of stops at one victim. Once you make the accusation, someone else might come forward. In fact...”
“What?” Jenn asked, tensing.
“Well, this all happened years ago, and my memory of it is fuzzy, but there was a rumor floating around once upon a time that Palmer had made some type of inappropriate advance toward a young girl. This was when he was still a criminal defense attorney. It was all hushed up pretty quick, then dismissed as malicious gossip. I haven’t thought of it in years. Maybe, if you asked the right people, you could find out who that girl was.”
“But what if I don’t find anyone else?” Jenn objected. “What if I scour the town, and I don’t get any support at all? I don’t want to take that chance. Not only will I find myself in jail, Dennis will sue me for defamation of character and I’ll never get out from under the litigation, much less get my daughter back.”
Suddenly she realized that, as she’d been talking, Joe had casually slipped his hand around hers. She also realized that without his subtle support, she never would have found the strength to be so candid with Fran and Zig.
“You don’t have to go public until and unless you have a good case against him,” Zig elaborated. “You might even think about bluffing, pretending you have someone else willing to testify against him even if you don’t. The object is simply to get him to give Cathy back to you, right?”
“That, and to put him in jail for the rest of his life,” Jenn said, feeling a reassuring squeeze on her hand.
Zig nodded. “Well, that’s my two cents’ worth. You’ve got a fight ahead of you, if you choose to face him down, but I’ve seen big men fall before. By the way, where’s your mother in all this?”
“Staunchly beside her husband,” Jenn said. “I don’t believe she knows the truth. She thinks Dennis walks on water, and she’s the type who will look the other way or rationalize anything she might see or hear.”
“If you confronted her with the issue head-on, any chance she would side with you?”
“I honestly don’t know, but I wouldn’t count on it. She probably wouldn’t believe me.”
That concluded the discussion. Zig left them alone in his study to discuss their options in private. But Jenn didn’t feel much like discussing anything. Her head was spinning from the dizzying possibilities, both good and bad, that could result from her recent and future actions.
Joe seemed to sense her reticence. “Want to take a walk?” he ventured. “There’s still some daylight left. Zig tells me there’s a nice hiking trail that crosses the road just about a quarter mile up the hill.”
She nodded. After all those hours in the cramped car, then the filling steak dinner, she was ready to stretch her legs.
Jenn reassured herself that Cathy was still happily at play with her new friends, then followed Joe out the front door and down the stairs. They started off at a brisk walk up the rocky road, enveloped in companionable silence. Birds were flying into the treetops, preparing to roost for the night.
The trail was easy enough to find. It was well marked, and Jenn decided that she might be an outdoors woman after all. She was starting to appreciate the wilderness in a whole new way. She enjoyed the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, the gentle whooshing noise the wind made in the trees, and the way the air smelled. It was much warmer here than it had been in Montana, and she unzipped her jacket.
They walked for about twenty minutes. The trail wound its way up a small hill, at the top of which was a spectacular view of the lake. They stood and admired it without speaking for several minutes. Jenn wanted to reclaim his hand, but felt suddenly shy.
“1 guess we shouldn’t stay too long,” she said, breaking the silence. “It’ll be dark soon.”
“Mmm,” Joe said noncommittally. He seemed tense, like maybe he was afraid of her, or at least uneasy at being alone with her.
Joe Andresi, afraid? She smiled. “Joe, I want to tell you something.”
“There’s more?” His eyes flickered with curiosity, but he didn’t push her, even when she didn’t continue right away.
She started to perch herself on a log, then decided she was too keyed up to sit still. She plunged ahead. Confessions were getting to be a habit with her lately. “Today has been a revelation for me. First I told Fran the whole story—e
verything—and she believed me without even blinking. And then I found out that you told Zig everything, and he obviously believed the story.”
She paced nervously around the small clearing, taking satisfaction in the steady crunch-crunch of dried leaves beneath her tennis shoes. Every once in a while she looked up at Joe to gauge his reaction. He appeared mildly interested, nothing more, but she sensed that his attention was anything but casual.
“I never imagined that I could reveal those secrets to anyone other than my psychologist,” she continued, “much less that complete strangers would take my words at face value. But it wasn’t that hard. It was... I don’t know, liberating, in a way. No more guilty secrets.”
“Keep going,” he coaxed when she paused, again at a loss as to how to continue. His voice was as soft as the approaching dusk and very compelling.
“If you all believe me,” she said, “then it’s possible others will, too.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What I’m trying to say is, I’m ready to do things your way—legally. I’ve got to stand up and fight Dennis with every weapon in my possession, no matter how painful. And if I fail...well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. But at least I’ll know I did everything I could.”
Joe said nothing for a long time. He stuck his thumbs into the back pockets of his jeans and stared out at the mirrored surface of the lake. Jenn sensed that he was battling a decision of his own.
Finally he spoke. “I think you’re making the right decision, but I can’t guarantee it.”
“I know that,” she said quickly. “I won’t hold you responsible, I swear it. I’ve thought through every angle.”
“What if I release you?” he said,
That stopped her. The idea of freedom was still a tantalizing one, although she and Cathy would never be truly free as long as they were fugitives. “I—I don’t know. I find it hard to believe you would, even now. You could get into trouble,”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Jenn...”
“Yes?”
