Unplanned (A Kennedy Stern Christian Suspense Novel Book 1)

by Alana Terry

  Kennedy still couldn’t get used to the idea that she was standing in a bathroom talking to a junior-higher about things like morning sickness and abortion clinics.

  “Is that why you didn’t want to take the pills the guys out there gave you?”

  Jodie sniffed and nodded. “I’ve just been feeling so bad lately. I went to this forum online, and it said morning sickness usually goes away after the first twelve weeks, but it didn’t.”

  “Well, I can see why you maybe thought that having an abortion was the only option.” Kennedy hated saying the words. What kind of life had Jodie led to think there wasn’t anything else she could do? On the other hand, given her age, given her family situation and the media hype over the upcoming election, would carrying the child have been any less horrific and traumatizing? “I’m proud of you, though, for changing your mind. That must have taken a lot of courage.”

  Jodie sniffed. “I didn’t do it for the baby or anything, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The nurse said they’d have to do an ultrasound. See how old the baby was. And I …” Jodie sniffed again and turned her face. “I didn’t want my uncle to know. He only thinks I’m six weeks.” Jodie’s voice was so quiet Kennedy had to lean down toward her a little.

  “Why did you tell him that?”

  “I didn’t want to get Samir in trouble. He was … he … we were good friends. But our parents didn’t like us spending time together.” She kept her eyes to the ground. “Last summer his family sent him to a boys’ home in Vermont. I think they just wanted to make sure we couldn’t be around each other. I haven’t talked to him since then.”

  “I’m sorry.” Was there anything else for Kennedy to say? None of this made any sense.

  Jodie looked up shyly. “If my uncle knew I got pregnant that long ago, he would have thought the baby was … Well, you know. And he’d be mad at Samir. Really mad.”

  Something about Jodie’s tone didn’t fit with the rest of the story. Of course, it was unnaturally bizarre talking to someone so young about boyfriends and abortions and pregnancies, but was that all, or was there more to it? Was Jodie telling her everything?

  Jodie sucked in her breath. “That’s why I said I didn’t want the abortion after all. I didn’t want the nurse to do the ultrasound and tell my uncle how old the baby really was.”

  Kennedy tried to swallow. Why did she live in a world where girls so young could get pregnant in the first place? “We all make mistakes,” she stammered. She thought about her junior-high crushes. Sure, they felt like real love, but she couldn’t imagine going to bed with someone at that age. “I know if you’re really sorry for what you and Samir did …”

  Jodie scrunched up her face. “But we never did anything.”

  Kennedy felt like she had when she first moved to Yanji, trying to understand the new language, knowing she had missed something important but unable to figure out what. “So Samir’s not the dad?” She felt like a bigger dolt than she had when everyone in her calculus study group figured out how to derive differential equations before she did.

  Jodie shook her head. “No. We never even kissed. I didn’t want Uncle Anthony to think Samir got me pregnant. But he and I …” She lowered her eyes again. “We didn’t do anything like that. He’s not even a Christian. We liked each other a lot, but neither of our parents would allow it. Besides, we both knew it would be wrong.”

  So she lied to her uncle to protect a boy who couldn’t possibly be the baby’s father?

  “Guess you’re surprised.” Jodie let out a mirthless laugh that could have come from somebody much older. “With my dad being so pro-life and all.”

  Kennedy thought her next words out very carefully and kept her gaze fixed to discern Jodie’s reaction to each syllable. “Well, if Samir’s not the one who got you pregnant …” she began tentatively.

  Jodie turned her head and set up a little straighter. Did she know what was coming?

  Kennedy’s hands started to sweat, and she wiped them on the sides of her pants. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I think it would be helpful if I knew.” Her mouth felt suddenly very dry. She swallowed before she began again. “Sometimes adults don’t know the right way to treat their daughters or their nieces, and they … What I’m trying to ask you is if your dad or maybe your uncle is the one who …”

  There was a banging on the door. “Times up.”

  Jodie let out a loud, choppy sigh. Kennedy was just as ready to end the conversation there, at least for now. She was sure that hadn’t been a full five minutes, but she was in no position to argue. She eyed Jodie stained clothes. “What you want to do about your pants?”

  Vinny pounded on the door again. If he grew too impatient, nothing could stop him from coming in before Jodie was dressed.

  “We’re getting ready right now,” she called out in the least hostile tone she could stomach. She frowned at Jodie. “I’m really sorry, but I think the only choice is to put your old clothes back on for now. At least when the other guy gets back with some pads …” She let her voice trail off and wondered for the hundredth time that day how she had gone from a volunteer weekend receptionist to a hostage in this huge, impenetrable cell.

  Jodie could move more easily now, and she only needed a little help to keep her balance as she dressed. Kennedy helped her roll up some toilet paper to serve as a makeshift pad and tried not to cringe when Jodie put on the bloodstained things. It was better than wearing nothing at all.

  A second before Jodie finished pulling her pants up, Vinny barged into the bathroom. “I said time’s up,” he growled. Kennedy avoided his eyes and linked her elbow in Jodie’s. They walked back to the couch, and Vinny’s phone rang. Kennedy hoped she could continue her awkward conversation with Jodie, but he just looked at his screen, swore, and jammed the phone back into his pocket.

  “It’s cold.” Jodie sat and hugged her arms around herself. She was shivering. For a minute, Kennedy thought about asking Vinny for a blanket, but she decided to wait. Maybe Dustin would be in a more agreeable mood when he came back with the pads. It seemed nearly impossible for their situation to improve in any way, but she could always hope.

  CHAPTER 18

  Jodie curled herself up in a little ball on the couch, resting her head on Kennedy’s lap. Kennedy stroked her hair and remembered cuddling with her mom like that in front of the TV when she was a little girl. But she couldn’t think about her mom right now. She couldn’t think about her friends she left back on campus or the homework assignments she was missing. She only had the mental stamina to worry about Jodie.

  Thankfully, Jodie didn’t seem to be in as much pain. The cold was her only real complaint. While they rested and waited for Dustin to return, Kennedy inventoried all the information she had stored up over the past few days. Dustin and Vinny were working for Jodie’s uncle, and he was the one who wanted Jodie to take those abortion pills. Did he know what they would do to her body? If he knew how far along Jodie really was, would he still make her take them? Was he willing to risk his niece’s life simply to keep the family from scandal? Was this whole act a desperate struggle to save his brother’s campaign? Or would things be different if he knew the real age of Jodie’s baby?

  Since Jodie’s friend Samir wasn’t the dad, who got her pregnant in the first place? It was possible Jodie was lying, but Kennedy couldn’t picture someone as quiet and demure as Jodie sneaking around with boys behind her parents’ backs. Jodie had made a comment on the phone about her dad. What was it that she had said? At the time, Kennedy would have guessed she was being abused by her own father. She had only talked with Senator Abernathy for a few minutes and came back with conflicting impressions. On the one hand, he seemed as plastic and insincere as she would expect from any other politician. Even if he wasn’t directly responsible for abusing his daughter, wouldn’t he be close enough to his brother to know what a dangerous influence he was? But then Kennedy thought about
the way he talked about his work in the pro-life movement, the concern he showed not only for the unborn babies but for the moms who carried them. Could he really be so two-faced to abuse his own daughter or stand by while her uncle tried to bribe her into having an abortion? Was there any possibility he was completely innocent in the matter?

  Whether or not Jodie’s dad was involved, her uncle definitely was. She had a low enough opinion of Anthony Abernathy to immediately suspect him. Anyone capable of kidnapping and forced abortions was capable of child abuse, right? But why did he go through the trouble to have Kennedy kidnapped, too? Even if he knew about Jodie’s call to the pregnancy center, he didn’t have any way to link that conversation back to Kennedy. Unless …

  The sound of smashed glass crunching on the pavement echoed in Kennedy’s mind. The sight of the graffiti, the heaviness in the air when Carl and Sandy surveyed the destruction and vandalism of their new ministry building. Was that Anthony’s doing, too? Was it his way of getting back at the center for taking a call from his niece? Or was there more to it than that?

  What if he had been at the center looking for the phone records? What if he was trying to find out who it was that took the call? But Kennedy hadn’t filled out any paperwork while she was there. Even if Jodie’s uncle or one of his stooges broke into the center, how could he have known Kennedy was the one with the hotline cell? Then she remembered — Carl writing her name down on the big wall calendar, Kennedy jotting down her dorm room number on the purple Post-it. From there, it would have been easy enough for Anthony to find her room, check up on her contacts, bug her phone. But would he really have gone through so much trouble to keep the press from learning about Jodie’s pregnancy? Politicians’ daughters got pregnant every day, didn’t they? Of course, this would be more sensational since Jodie was so young and her father was the most conservative gubernatorial candidate the state may have ever seen, but it would pass, right? Nobody paid attention to the tabloids for that long. If the election wasn’t in a week, would Kennedy still be sitting here today?

  She thought about the internet search she had been doing when Dustin barged into her room. She was seconds away from calling Carl about her suspicions. How could Anthony have known? How could Dustin and Vinny have gotten there so fast? Unless they had been watching more than her phone. Kennedy’s whole spine went rigid at the thought. So was all this to cover up the pregnancy, then? Or was there more to it? Incest? Statutory rape? Child abuse? She remembered Nick saying the press was lurking around St. Margaret’s looking for a scandal. They would have gotten one, too, if Anthony’s men hadn’t caught Kennedy when they did.

  Her thoughts about St. Margaret’s led to others. If they bothered kidnapping Kennedy, why would they stop there? What if they went after Carl or Sandy, too? The Lindgrens had all the same information Kennedy did when she went to meet with Nick in his office.

  Nick. She tried to think through their conversation. Had either of them mentioned the Abernathys? Wasn’t it Nick who told her they went to St. Margaret’s in the first place? If Anthony’s men suspected Nick might reach the same conclusions as Kennedy, would they get rid of him, too?

  Jodie shifted on the couch, and Kennedy rubbed her on the shoulder. “Are you holding up ok?” she asked. It was a stupid question. Nothing was ok about any of this.

  “My feet are really cold.”

  Kennedy had just decided to risk Vinny’s wrath by asking him for a blanket when his phone sounded again. This time he grunted and answered it reluctantly. “Hey, Anthony.”

  “That might be my uncle,” Jodie whispered. Was that hope in her voice? “Do you think he’s going to tell them to let us go?”

  Was she still so naïve? Kennedy didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know.” Kennedy couldn’t believe Anthony tried to deceive Jodie into thinking those pills were anxiety meds. She tried to listen in to Vinny’s conversation, but all she could catch were snippets of mumbled words that made no sense when strung together.

  The door to the top of the stairs swung open. As Dustin came down, Kennedy tried to guess how long he had been gone. Forty minutes? Maybe a little more. What did that tell her about their location? What did that mean about their chances of rescue or escape?

  The starchy smell of French fries reached the bottom of the stairs before he did. He carried two McDonald’s bags. Kennedy swallowed a whole mouthful of saliva as the fatty aroma swirled around in her empty stomach. When was the last time she had eaten? And how could she watch Dustin and Vinny dining in front of her when she was so hungry she hardly trusted her legs to support her weight anymore?

  To her surprise, Dustin threw one of the McDonald’s sacks at her when he passed by, along with a plastic shopping bag. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t ignore the greasy smell wafting up to her nostrils, so enticing she could almost taste it. She passed Jodie the package of pads when Vinny called out, “This time she goes by herself.”

  Kennedy didn’t argue. “Think you can make it?” she asked. Jodie nodded. “Let me know if you need anything,” she whispered when Vinny wasn’t looking. “I’ll save some of the food for you.”

  Jodie was walking more smoothly now. Kennedy’s fingers trembled as she broke the burger in half. It took all the self-control than she possessed to refrain from eating the entire meal. She finished her portion in a few ravenous bites and tucked the rest of the food away to save it for Jodie. Her hands still shook when she was done, but she reminded herself that Jodie would need the iron and the calories more than she did.

  Vinny and Dustin were still eating their meals over by the table. What were they working on over there, anyway? Kennedy took advantage of the silence and tried to pray. She thanked God for providing the much-needed food and for helping Jodie feel a little better. After that, her mind was racing too fast to formulate any sort of cohesive request. She hoped God understood anyway. Didn’t her dad say God knows what we need before we ask him?

  There was a buzzing sound from upstairs, and Vinny turned to Dustin. “That’s Anthony. Keep an eye on them.” Vinny stomped up the stairs. So was Anthony actually upstairs, then? Would he dare to show himself to his niece, or would he keep hiding behind his stooges like the coward he was?

  Kennedy watched Dustin as he finished up the last of his fries. He must have sensed her staring, because he turned to her and announced with a full mouth, “She’s still going to have to take those pills.”

  Kennedy wondered if Jodie could hear from the bathroom. How long was she going to take in there? Was she all right? “She can’t do that. It’s not safe.” She tried to talk loud enough so Dustin could hear without having her words carry to every square inch of the room. Why couldn’t he come closer?

  Dustin shrugged. “Vinny’s going now to talk to her uncle. She’s taking them.”

  For a minute Kennedy wondered what would happen if she grabbed the pills and swallowed them herself. It couldn’t be more dangerous for her than for Jodie, could it? But they would stop her before she could carry through. If she could only reason with them …

  Kennedy stood up, studying Dustin’s expression as she took a few steps toward him. He kept eating, so she went a little farther until she was a foot or two away from the workbench. At least now she didn’t have to yell across the room. She lowered her voice and kept her ear strained to hear when Jodie or Vinny returned. “Those pills only work when a girl is a few weeks pregnant. If you take them later than that …” What would happen? Kennedy didn’t know, so she’d have to bluff. “If you take them later than that, it’s really dangerous for both the mom and the baby.” That made sense, didn’t it?

  Dustin shrugged. Of course, he wouldn’t care about the baby’s life. But didn’t he worry about what Anthony Abernathy would do if Jodie died or ended up in the hospital?

  “If you don’t believe me, I can look it up for you. Do you have internet down here?”

  Dustin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “I’m telling you, those pills could kill her.”<
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  Dustin put down his fries. “You give me the information, and I’ll look it up.” There was a laptop computer on the far side of the work table, and Dustin drummed his fingers on the wooden platform while he waited for it to start.

  “She said she’s already five months along.” Kennedy tried to keep her voice sounding reasonable, but now that she could see what was going on at the work bench, she grew even more nervous. Weapons were strewn across the wooden platform. Parts of guns, boxes of ammo. She tried not to stare as one incessant question raced through her mind — if Dustin planned to let her live, would he have allowed her to see his stockpile?

  Kennedy glanced at the screen as it lit up and saw what looked like blueprints for a building. Was that where they were keeping her? If she got a chance to study it, could it teach her how to escape? Dustin quickly closed the browser and opened up a Yahoo search page. “Well?”

  Kennedy couldn’t remember the name of the drug. “Look up abortion pills and second trimester,” she told him and shot a glance at the staircase. She was sure if Vinny came down now he would be furious to see her by the workbench. Dustin was staring at the keyboard while he typed, and if Kennedy had any idea what to do with a gun, she might have been able to grab one before he had time to react. What was the point of her and her dad watching all those action movies if she never learned the first thing about handling real weapons?

  “All right.” Dustin strained his neck forward as he stared at the screen.

  Kennedy noticed he had misspelled most of the words in his search, but Yahoo still brought up the name of the pill she was looking for. “That one.” She pointed at the screen. He squinted, and Kennedy saw a small knife on the table, gleaming in the bluish glow from the screen. Did she dare?