Fear Familiar Bundle

by Caroline Burnes

  As soon as I get out of here, I'm going to take a gander at Crush Bonbon. I expect to find some flesh missing from his neck or his arms. That would be a basic piece of evidence.

  Crush could easily have been at the park when Mimi was snatched, and he was at the library just before Tommy disappeared. What better alibi than to have been there and left! He's probably smarter than the average bear.

  But in all fairness, Crush isn't the only suspect. I see that Charles J. P. Frost has something to gain— his daughter. And, also, as hard as it is to believe, Mrs. Frost could be behind all of this. Both are in a terrible child custody battle. If the father took her, he could make the mother look like a neglectful parent. If the mother took her, she could be planning on hiding her out in case the custody battle goes against her. It might sound farfetched, but I read those magazines at the newsstand on the corner of Jefferson and Ninth. There's a lot of craziness in families that break apart. And as we all know, humanoids aren't the most rational species in the universe.

  The one thing that bothers me with the parents' scenario is the pages of Eugene's work left behind. Jennifer could be in serious trouble for taking that manuscript page from the library. I found it crumpled in her jacket pocket. If Bixley and that crowd ever finds out she tampered with evidence, she's going to a jail cell faster than you can say boo.

  I could be off on the wrong track here, but Trained Observer that I am, I did notice something interesting about that manuscript page. Jennifer realizes it is an abduction scene, of sorts, but the page number at the top was also x-ed out and a new number written in. The original number was ninety-five. The new number, written in a very unstable hand, I might add, is ninety-eight. Since I've been confined in this house like a common prisoner, I did manage to check Eugene's original manuscript pages. They are perfectly paginated, something any editor would appreciate. And the page should have been ninety-five. So that leads me to believe that ninety-eight is a significant numeral. But how or why, I haven't any idea. This gives me a very creepy sensation, as if the kidnapper is someone who considers himself very smart. Much smarter than Eugene or Jennifer or the cops or anyone else who might be looking for these kids. It's as if the kidnapper is playing with us— deliberately tossing clues at us that we're too dense to pick up on. Or, at least, the humanoids aren't exactly setting the woods on fire with brilliant leaps of deduction.

  As interesting as the puzzle is, I can't help but wonder where the children have been stashed. My feline instincts tell me that they're being held against their will, but that they haven't been injured. At least, not physically. I don't imagine being abducted and held is good for any kid's emotional development. But at least Mimi isn't alone now. Or that's what I feel. And Tommy seemed like a kid with a lot on the stick.

  The other interesting point is that a ransom note hasn't been received. If I had to make a kitty prediction, I'd say another child will disappear. And in the not too distant future.

  Hey! What's that noise outside the back screen porch? Someone is prowling around Eugene's garden! Drat! The door is locked and the windows are bolted down. I know I could pry one up— if I had the time and some tools. But I'll have to settle for pulling down the blinds.

  Ah, a satisfying crash, but I fear it frightened away whoever was out there. Yes, they climbed the back gate and I hear their footsteps on the drive! Blast my clumsiness! I didn't even get a glance at them!

  * * *

  "LOOK! Someone's running down the street!" For the second time Jennifer had discovered someone skulking around Eugene's house. The dark shadow disappeared among the shrubs of the Johnson house just as she jumped out of the car.

  "Don't go." Eugene's soft command made her turn quickly back to him.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Perfectly. But you aren't exactly armed to take down an intruder." Eugene's observation was made with a dry tone. "Let's have a glass of port instead. I have the feeling we're overlooking something very important, and very simple."

  The intruder was long gone, and Jennifer gave up any thoughts of chasing after him. The foliage along Eugene's street was dense and healthy. There were a million places to hide.

  They hurried up the walk to the front porch and in a moment Eugene ushered her inside.

  "Ouch!" Jennifer felt the swat of an angry cat paw. "Familiar!" She shook her leg but he only dug his claws in deeper.

  "Now, now." Eugene bent down and lifted the cat with ease. "He's paying you back for locking him in the house. Familiar is a free agent. He likes to make his own decisions." He stroked the cat. "He deeply resents the fact that you imprisoned him."

  "Meow!" Familiar nuzzled under Eugene's chin, his motor running like an outboard.

  "Disgusting." Jennifer flopped down on the sofa. "If you can tear yourself away from that manipulative cat, I'd like a glass of brandy, or maybe some Drambuie. Even better, do you have any Baileys?" She let her head fall back against the overstuffed sofa. "I can't believe this day. And I haven't even begun to deal with Crush Bonbon."

  Eugene appeared at her elbow with a cut-crystal glass of the rich chocolaty liquor. "To your health, my dear." He produced his own glass of ruby red liquid, lifted in a toast.

  Jennifer sat up, clinked glasses, and savored the taste of the liqueur.

  To her astonishment, Familiar leapt from the sofa and attacked the stacked manuscript pages of Eugene's book. With two swats, he had the four hundred pages scattered across the floor.

  "Now, Familiar." Disapproval made Eugene's voice harsher than normal. "If you're angry with Jennifer, take it out on her. Not on my book." He bent to gather up the pages and Familiar made another dive, pushing them completely out of order. Clapping his hands together, Eugene scatted the cat. "He is a torment tonight."

  Jennifer got down to help put the manuscript together. For several moments they worked in silence, until Eugene held up a fistful of pages. "One's missing," he said. "Page ninety-five."

  A guilty flush crept up Jennifer's neck. Tilting her face down, she hid behind the curtain of thick, dark hair.

  "It was in the manuscript when I was at the library." Eugene stood, his face perplexed. "I read that page, came home and put the manuscript down right on this table and it hasn't been moved since." Awareness made him arch his brows. "Except for the few moments that I left it on the steps at the library when Tommy and I went around the building to examine the black hawthorns in the cemetery." He cast a glance at Jennifer. "There was a page of my manuscript at the library, where Tommy disappeared, wasn't there?"

  Jennifer nodded, then finally met his gaze. "I took it. I found it and I took it, before anyone else saw it."

  "That's tampering with evidence." Forgetting the manuscript at his feet, Eugene took a seat on his favorite chair beside the bay window and a fireplace. "You could be in serious trouble, my dear."

  "It was an instinctive action." She wasn't trying to apologize, not really. "It was there, I saw the implications, so I took it. I knew you were innocent and I knew that page would make you look guilty."

  Eugene sipped his port, his fingers stroking the brocaded arm of his chair as he thought. "Only trouble is, there might be a clue to Tommy's whereabouts in the manuscript."

  "Meow!" Familiar leapt from under the coffee table onto Eugene's lap. "Meow!" he insisted.

  "Familiar agrees," Eugene said, completely unperturbed by the cat's behavior. "In fact, that's why he knocked the manuscript over, to let us know about the clue."

  "I think he was tattling on me." Jennifer gave the cat a dark look.

  "Well, someone has to keep you honest." Eugene looked directly at her. "Stealing evidence."

  "Protecting you," she countered.

  "But I've done nothing wrong. I don't need protecting."

  Jennifer started to speak, then stopped. There were times when Eugene Legander had too much trust in the basic goodness of humankind. He couldn't really believe that someone would set him up, out of jealousy, hatred, or whatever base motivation. It was jus
t difficult for him to accept that some people were rotten.

  "You're going to have to tell the police what you did." There was no arguing with Eugene's tone.

  "Not in this lifetime." Jennifer put her glass on the table. "I acted out of an honest impulse to protect you. If I so much as hint that I disturbed evidence, it will only make you look twice as guilty, and possibly me, too."

  "Jennifer, there might be something on that page that would help the police find Tommy. Whatever risk of embarrassment we run, it's certainly worth Tommy's and Mimi's lives."

  It was exactly the thing that nagged at her. There was nothing on the page that would lead to the children. She'd read it over several times. Not a single thing. All it would do was implicate Eugene, and now her.

  "There might be fingerprints." The writer had stood up and was pacing the floor.

  She cowered at the thought. She'd crumpled the paper up and stuck it in her jacket pocket, never thinking it might contain some valuable evidence. No, she hadn't thought of that until much later.

  "Where is it?" Eugene asked.

  "In my jacket, in the car." She got up, also. It would be better to get this over with. She went out and fished around in her pocket until she found the ball of paper. Back inside, she held it out to Eugene.

  "Oh, dear," he said, seeing the condition. He sat down and started to smooth it out on the sleek surface of the coffee table.

  Before he could get it unwadded, Familiar was on the table patting it with a paw. "This isn't a toy," Eugene said.

  "Maybe he's trying to show you the important part," Jennifer said, giving Familiar a look. "He's a rat fink."

  His only response was a flick of his tail that caught her just under her nose.

  "Wait a minute." Eugene held the page down and watched in fascination as Familiar slapped the top right hand corner. "Did you change the page number?" He shot a look across the room.

  "I didn't change a thing. I just wadded it up." Despite her determination to keep a safe distance from Familiar, Jennifer leaned over to look. "Why would someone change the page number?"

  "It's a clue."

  "Meow!" Familiar leapt off the table and headed into the kitchen yowling a loud complaint.

  "He's hungry." Jennifer shook her head. "He's finally got us stupid humans to understand the clue and now he's ready to chow down."

  At the doorway of the kitchen, Familiar twitched his tail twice and licked his whiskers.

  "Remarkable," Eugene said, getting up and following Familiar's disappearing tail.

  "Don't give him anything except dry cat food." Jennifer was rewarded with an indignant meow from the cat, and she leaned back against the sofa and sipped her liqueur. The blasted cat was something special. But she had a major problem. If the page number was a clue to the whereabouts of the children, she was going to have to tell the authorities. And to do so, she'd have to admit she took the page, which would cast even more shadow on Eugene.

  "Maybe Martha Whipple could find the page?" Eugene was standing ten feet away, staring at her.

  "I hate to involve her."

  "Just put the page in the library. She could find it there. I wouldn't enlist her in any deception. That wouldn't be fair, but she could discover the page and report it, which would serve the same purpose as you turning it in."

  Jennifer sat up. "That might work. Except I'm not certain anyone would understand the importance unless they knew the page was left at the time and place Tommy was taken."

  "Or you could give it to James, explain what happened and hope that he could explain it in the press." Eugene chuckled as he took his favorite chair. "Your enthusiasm is overwhelming. There's no easy way to do this."

  She felt her newfound resolve evaporate. "That might work, too." She put her glass down and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Who do you think took the manuscript page?"

  Eugene's brows drew together. "I was thinking about that in the kitchen when I was giving le chat a sampler of cheeses. He seems fond of the Brie. I did put the manuscript down for several minutes while I was helping some of the youngsters with their lizard lessons."

  "I don't know if I want to hear this."

  "I was demonstrating how still the lizard can be, and how they blend into the foliage. There were several chameleons outside the library, and I put them on different greenery, admonishing the children not to injure them. I was only out there a minute."

  "And your manuscript was left unattended?"

  "On one of the chairs."

  "With Crush Bonbon right in the room." Jennifer didn't know if she was excited by the discovery or upset.

  "Mr. Bonbon and a number of other people. I have to point that out, in all fairness."

  "Parents. The library staff. Me. James. Who else?"

  "Anyone could have been in the library. It is a public facility, and someone could have been in the stacks hiding, waiting for an opportunity."

  "Was Tommy selected, or was he just convenient?" Jennifer felt her muscles involuntarily tense. Every time she really concentrated on the children, she felt so helpless.

  "Deliberate. Both Mimi and Tommy were the would-be writers. They're the children who spent the most time with me."

  Jennifer felt her apprehension grow. "Then if that's accurate, who's next?"

  "Judith. Maybe Renee. Or it could be Stephanie."

  "My God. We have to stop this. Listen to us, we're sitting here planning this out as if there's nothing we can do to stop this monster." She went to Eugene and sat on the arm of his chair. "We have to stop this, Eugene."

  "I don't know if we can," he said, for the first time showing the desperation and despair he felt for the loss of the children. "God help us, I don't know what we can do."

  Chapter Eight

  James Tenet sat on Eugene's sofa and let his fingers stroke Familiar's silken hair. Jennifer, dressed in a soft peach suit complete with hose and heels, sat with her hands clasped in her lap, her features a study in contrition. The midmorning sun filtering through the semiclosed blinds seemed to bathe her in a celestial light, an image heightened by her pose.

  "I wasn't thinking clearly. I just took the page from the steps and crammed it into my pocket." She spoke to her hands as if she were too timid to address James or Eugene.

  Eugene produced the rumpled page and spread it out on the coffee table before James could say anything.

  James glanced down at the paper but instantly looked back up at Jennifer. "This is serious," he said. He made no effort to write anything in his notebook.

  "It was an act of innocence," Eugene insisted loudly. "She saw the page, thought I'd dropped it, and picked it up."

  James never took his gaze from Jennifer. "Is that true?"

  She swallowed, then lifted her crystal blue gaze to meet his. "No. I saw the page, thought it looked terribly incriminating, so I jammed it into my pocket to hide it. That's the truth."

  She looked as sweet as an angel, and that made him deeply concerned. He paused for a long moment before he spoke. "Incredibly stupid." James made the pronouncement and waited again. "I said it was stupid." He leaned forward, trying to catch her elusive gaze. She wouldn't look up at him. The sheet of silky hair covered everything except her nose, casting even her full lips in shadow.

  When he failed to get any reaction, he gave Eugene a worried look. "I've never seen her so docile."

  Eugene shrugged. "She's been like this since she came over this morning and insisted that I call you. She wants you to go with us to the police when we turn the page in."

  "Me?" James swiveled his head to look at Jennifer. For one split second he caught a lively blue gaze peeking out from under the hair. "Aha! You're up to something! I should have known that this demure, modest creature who sat before me, so contrite, was a fake, a cheap imitation of the real Jennifer Barkley."

  "Oh, give it a rest," Jennifer snapped as her head came up. "I'm practicing for the benefit of the police chief. I took the page and I want to give it to them now. We think
there's a clue in it." She picked it up and showed him the page number that had been changed.

  "Ninety-eight. What could that mean?" James studied the page but his gaze slipped over the top to find Jennifer. Her blue eyes were crackling with determination, and he found that he much preferred her alive, every cell hopping with energy and mischief— rather than slunk down like a kicked dog.

  "If we knew what it meant, I wouldn't have to go turn myself in," she said, getting up to pace the room. The pale silk suit shimmered like molten peach light along the contour of each muscle as she strode to the door, turned and came back like a tiger in a cage.

  "This is going to look terrible." James studied the page, reading it several times before he spoke again. "Even if you can pull off acting like a saint, Anna Green will buy television time for this, and Crush Bonbon will do a week-long show."

  "I know." Jennifer twisted her hands in an uncharacteristic gesture of sheer anxiety. "But we have to give the police the information. What if it leads to the children? Even knowing how terrible this is going to be for me, and especially for Eugene now that I've mucked it up, I'm still going to have to do it."

  James picked up the paper. "Maybe not." One expressive eyebrow lifted over his dark eye. The hint of his ancestry showed in the inscrutability of his eyes, suddenly shuttered.

  "What's cooking in that brain of yours?" Jennifer asked. "What are you thinking?"

  "That I can turn the page in. I can say it was sent to the newspaper, and I didn't realize the importance so I threw it away, had second thoughts, and then decided to give it to the police."

  Jennifer exhaled her breath. "You'd do that. For me?"

  His smile was slow to arrive, lifting one corner of a mouth that had taken on a very sensual cast. "Of course, it's going to cost you."

  "How much?" Jennifer swallowed. She didn't necessarily dislike the look in his eyes. In fact, it sent her blood rushing, tingling along the most intimate stretches of flesh. It was one payment she might look forward to making.