Maybe a ransom note!
I have to get inside to read what he's done, but I have to wait until he gets up. He'll have to go to the bathroom eventually. Or get something to eat.
Look! There he goes. But, damn it, he's blanked the screen and unplugged the machine. May a thousand mice invade his basement. I'm not as good as Jennifer with the invectives, but I'm learning. Now I'll never be able to figure out what he was working on. Even if I break in, I don't have the foggiest understanding of what he was doing on that computer. Whatever happened to the good old days of pens and pads?
Now there's nothing left but careful surveillance. Down the tree and a little walkabout along the edge of the yard. The entire house is dark. Crush's car is still in the drive. There's no sign that he's expecting company or that he intends to leave. I'll just curl up in this little nest of pine straw beside the door and sleep. If anyone or anything stirs, I'll wake up.
* * *
JENNIFER'S BLUE EYES opened to dangerous slits as she reached out from beneath the teal sheet and snatched up the clamoring telephone. The weak light that drifted through the wooden blinds showed early morning— and a delightful profile of James Tenet lying beside her still sound asleep. She checked her bedside clock— it was not even seven— and mentally formed a bleak prediction for the person on the other end of the line.
With her teeth clamped together, she picked up the receiver before the phone could ring again. Before she could utter a word, Maji Call started talking.
"I don't know what you think you're doing down there in the decadent South, but it isn't taking care of Eugene Legander's reputation. There's a story on the network news this morning about some brouhaha down there in that backwater town. It seems that radio person has called for Eugene's arrest in the disappearance of two children."
Jennifer held the telephone away from her ear, then, remembering that James was still sleeping, pushed it under her pillow. Even through the layers of feathers she could hear Maji Call's hysterical voice.
"Hold on a minute, Maji," she mumbled into the phone. Burying the receiver deeper beneath the pillow, she slipped out of the room and went to pick up the extension in the kitchen.
"I have no control over Crush Bonbon," she tried to explain, but Maji had worked up a head of steam and she was going to let it off.
Holding the receiver on her shoulder, Jennifer listened as she put on a pot of coffee. As soon as Maji was winded, she'd have a chance to talk. There were times when Maji Call could be a real pain, but she eventually wore herself down into a state of rationality.
Jennifer had finished half a cup of coffee before she got her chance. In five succinct minutes, she'd updated her boss on what had occurred.
"Well, I can see that you've been doing your best." It was as close as Maji could come to an apology.
"There are a lot of things I can't go into," Jennifer said. One of them was the break-in. Her boss would die if she knew Jennifer was sneaking around at night performing illegal acts. "Just trust me. I'm doing everything under the sun to find out who's behind all of this."
"What about those kids?" Maji's concern was real. "Do you think they're okay?"
"I don't know." That was the truth. "But I have to believe that they haven't been seriously harmed. Each day that passes, though, makes it worse. You know that. And I feel so sorry for their parents. And for Eugene. He hides it well, but he's terribly distraught."
"He has a book due, Jennifer. Keep that in mind. He has to be able to work. We're going to have to resolve this. How about if Grand Street Press hires a detective? Hey, that may be a great public relations move. We could get a big name, someone who could create a— "
"No." Jennifer's voice was sharper than she'd intended. "This place is enough of a circus without our side adding to it. Putting fuel on the fire would be the worst thing we could do."
Maji sighed. "You're right. I just got carried away."
For the first time that morning, Jennifer smiled. Maji frequently got carried away. And about fifty percent of the time her ideas were brilliant. The other fifty percent…well, not quite brilliant.
"Call me this afternoon. I want updates every four hours."
"Maji— "
"No, darling. I mean it. I have to stay on top of this. We have an editorial board meeting at four today, and Eugene is a top concern. He must be protected, and I have to have the most current information to present. Jennifer, you're out of New York now. Perhaps you've forgotten how intense these editorial meetings can be. I mean, you are living in the land of the siesta."
"Can the sarcasm, Maji. I haven't forgotten. It's been something of a pressure cooker down here, too." Jennifer refilled her coffee cup. "I'm doing everything that can be done, and I'll call you this afternoon."
"Good girl. You have my full confidence. Ta-ta." Maji hung up before Jennifer could reply.
"That woman is slicker than a greased pig in the July sun," Jennifer said to herself as she replaced the phone.
"I see you haven't lost your gift for description. But there's a definite drawl developing in your voice."
Jennifer whirled around to find James standing in the kitchen doorway, his dark hair wet from the shower and a towel around his waist. The faint stubble of his beard gave his skin a darker cast along his jawline. He was so handsome, she stopped and stared.
"At a loss for words?" he teased. "Did you forget where you left me?"
"Coffee?" Her ability for witty repartee was severely hampered by the sudden rush of desire she felt for him. Quick images of the night before flashed in her mind and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks.
"A modest maiden?" He stepped up beside her and slowly took the coffeepot and cup from her hand, returning them to the counter. "It wasn't really a desire for coffee that brought me in here." His fingers traced a feathery touch beneath her chin. "I wanted a look at you. To make sure I wasn't dreaming."
She knew he could hear her heart pounding. She placed her hand on his chest, still damp from the shower, and felt a corresponding beat. Her gaze never left his, and she thought she'd faint if he actually touched her again. She saw the hunger in his eyes, and the delight, and knew she was seeing a reflection of her own emotions.
"James, what time do you have to be at work?" She smiled.
The jarring ring of the telephone made her freeze. "Don't answer it," she said when she saw him look at it. "I've already had a call from my boss in New York."
A frown touched James's brow. "It could be Eugene," he reminded her. "Besides, no journalist worth his salt can ignore a ringing telephone. It's like ink in the blood."
"Damn, damn, double damn. I'm going to find out who this is, sell them to pirates and then make them walk the plank. Into a vat filled with hungry sharks." She turned away from him and went to the phone. "Hello?"
"Miss Barkley, this is Tommy Franklin's mother. Can we talk?" Jennifer sat down at the table in defeat. The moment with James was lost. She could hear the terror and fear in Mrs. Franklin's voice. "Of course, Mrs. Franklin, what can I do for you?"
James went to the counter, poured her another coffee, and a cup for himself, and retreated to the bedroom.
"I wanted to talk with you before I did anything. An officer was at my house this morning. They believe Mr. Legander is responsible for kidnapping Tommy and Mimi. They want me to go down to the police station and sign papers against Mr. Legander. They say if I sign the papers, along with Mrs. Frost, they can take Mr. Legander into custody and question him."
Jennifer's fingers clutched the telephone. "Do you believe Eugene could harm Tommy?"
Mrs. Franklin started to cry. "No. No, I don't. But he may know something that could help them find my boy. They say they just really want a chance to talk to him, at length."
Jennifer waited a few seconds. "Mrs. Franklin, if Eugene knew anything, he'd willingly tell the police. He's cooperated in every way."
"They said he might remember something. You know, being at the jail and all. They said
sometimes people remember things they've forgotten."
"Does that sound like intimidation to you?"
"Tommy is a good boy. He's never harmed anyone. He even looks out for all the birds and animals in the yard. Why would someone do this to him?" She sobbed, completely out of control.
"Mrs. Franklin, Eugene and I are looking for Tommy. I promise you that we're doing everything we can. And I believe the clues to these missing children may lie in Eugene's books. But it isn't because he's taken them. It's someone else." She took a breath. "But if you believe that signing papers against Eugene will help, then you have to do that. You have to do whatever you believe it takes to find your son."
Mrs. Franklin's tears slowed considerably. "I won't sign those papers. I can't do that to Mr. Legander. If I did, Tommy would never forgive me. I'm sorry I disturbed you." Her voice caught on a sob and she hung up the phone.
"Bad news?" James, now fully dressed, went to the counter to pour himself another cup of coffee. He refilled Jennifer's mug before taking the seat across from her at the table. "By the way, that black cat is gone. There's not a trace of him in the house, and I found the back door pushed open. I'll bet he went back to Eugene's. Now, what's going on?"
"Someone's pulling strings at the police department."
"Anna Green?"
"That's my best guess."
"I'm going down right now to check the docket to see if Crush reported that break and entry." James checked his watch. "I'll give you a call in about thirty minutes, after I check in at the newspaper. Then I think we need to make a trip to the library."
"For what?"
"If anyone can give us a list of redheaded children, it'll be Martha Whipple. That way we won't have to upset Eugene with our suspicions."
Jennifer's face broke into a smile. "You're a genius, James Tenet."
He smiled at her as he set his coffee cup down and stood to leave. "You know, it scares me when you start handing out compliments." He picked up the cellular phone. "And I'll run by the phone company with this to find out exactly who it belongs to."
* * *
WHEN SHE GOT OUT of James's car at the library, Jennifer was still mulling over the significance of the fact that the telephone they'd discovered was actually the property of J. P. Frost, and that Crush had failed to report the blood in his house, or the illegal entry. The trouble was that not one single piece of evidence against Crush was strong enough to force law officers to act against him. The telephone could have been put in Crush's home. They'd broken in to find it, so someone else could just as easily have broken in to put it there. And after the terrible row that had occurred during Crush's show, even such a publicity hound might shy away from calling the police to examine an unexplained bloodstain.
There was also the little matter that they had broken in. Not exactly a position of strength when they were making accusations about someone else.
On the other hand, Crush Bonbon's possession of the telephone and lack of action in calling the police was extremely suspicious. Especially if he had the children.
Side by side, James and Jennifer climbed the white stone steps that marked the entrance to the graceful old building from which Tommy Franklin had disappeared. On either side of the steps, two plaster lions seemed to gaze into the distance, as if they had seen plenty but were unwilling to speak.
"Ready?" James's question was more one of mental preparedness than physical ability.
"As I'll ever be. I've thought of one child, Charlie McNair. He's quite a carrot top. I'm sure Ms. Whipple can supply the entire list. You can tell she adores those children."
"And she's more than a little fond of Eugene, I'd say." James grinned at her. "I was watching her during his reading. She absolutely hung on his every word."
Martha Whipple looked up over her glasses as James and Jennifer approached the children's desk. "How is Eugene?" she asked, her eyes darkening with concern. "I know how hard this is on him. I've been worried to death, but I didn't want to call him for fear I'd interrupt his work." An expression of dismay crossed her face. "He is working on that wonderful book, isn't he?"
Jennifer felt a current of guilt. She really didn't know if Eugene was working. Lately, they'd both been so caught up in the disappearance of the children that they hadn't discussed his book. "I'm sure it's coming along fine."
"Good." Relief swept her face and she lowered her gaze for a moment to compose herself. "What can I do for you and Mr…?"
"Tenet. James Tenet." Jennifer made the introductions, but she didn't mention that James was a reporter. "We're interested in a list of all the redheaded children who attend story hour here."
Martha Whipple's eyebrows lifted above the dark rim of her glasses. "Now that's a strange one, if I do say so myself. Is this some research for Eugene?"
"Yes."
"No."
James and Jennifer spoke in unison.
"What we mean is that— " Jennifer looked helplessly at James.
"It's for the cover of his book," James said. He pinched Jennifer's hip lightly.
"Right." She started forward, bumping her knee into the counter. "The art department is thinking about a cover with a redheaded child, and we thought it might be fun to feature a local boy or girl."
"Some lucky Mobile child may be featured on the cover of a book?" Martha Whipple was beaming. "How wonderful. Let me get the list."
From the shelf beneath her chair she pulled out a folder and flipped to the last page. "Let's see here. These are the boys and girls who attend story hour. And— " her finger traced down the page "— there's Charlie McNair. Yes, and his sister, Patti. Did you want boys and girls or just one gender?"
"Both." They spoke together again, and this time they all three grinned.
"Okay. And then there's Julie Ralston. She's strawberry blond, but she could be considered a redhead, I suppose. Her brother, Rick, is so very blond, you know." Her finger traced slowly down the list. "And that's it. Charlie and Patti are the true redheads of the lot. But Julie is a possibility."
"Could we have their addresses?"
"You aren't going to stir them up by telling them this and then disappointing them, are you?" She gave Jennifer a stern look. "I've heard from Eugene how fickle the publishing industry can be and you know how easily a child's heart is broken."
"I won't disappoint them," Jennifer promised.
"Then have fun." She waved them away. "I've got to write a letter to the children. There's been some talk about canceling story hour until Mimi and Tommy are found, but I think that's a serious mistake. The children are frightened enough about what's happened to their playmates. Canceling story hour isn't a good idea."
Jennifer was ready to leave the library but she hesitated. "Miss Whipple, would you mind reading the story this week? Eugene has an appointment that he has to keep."
"An appointment?" Mrs. Whipple gave her a look steeped in curiosity. "Eugene never misses story hour."
"This time it can't be helped. If you can't fill in, I'll find someone to take his place to read."
"Love to do it, Miss Barkley. Don't trouble yourself about it at all."
"Thanks. You've been a wonderful friend to Eugene."
James had walked on to the door, but he'd heard the entire exchange. "What appointment does Eugene have?"
"He doesn't have one," Jennifer whispered. "But at this point, I think it best that Eugene doesn't engage in public appearances, especially not with a group of children. I mean what if something happened again. He'd be tarred and feathered and set on fire. They wouldn't wait for an explanation. He'd never leave the library alive."
James guided her through the door with his hand on the small of her back. "I get your drift."
Out in the warm April sunshine Jennifer hesitated. "I need to see Eugene and find that ornery black cat. I'm sure he went back to Eugene's, but I have to be certain."
"He's not ornery, he's just extremely bright." James hefted his car keys. "And I've got to go to work. We have a
lot of latitude to work on a story, but I have things stacked up on my desk that have to be taken care of. Why don't we meet for lunch and then go and talk to the parents of those children? We also need to come to some decisions about what we're going to do with that telephone. We're withholding evidence."
Jennifer's look was scornful. "They'll figure out some way to say we were planting it, I'm sure." But her lip caught between her teeth was a truer reflection of her worry.
"We'll figure it out. I'll be by Eugene's for you at noon. Then we'll talk to the McNairs and Ralstons. Together."
Jennifer wanted to kiss him. "You'll go with me?"
"Someone with a clear head and stable personality should go along." He grinned, rewarded with a glint of surprised anger in her eyes.
"Of all the toadlike things to say. Just when I thought you were going to be nice to me, you imply that I'm a mental midget, that my behavior is questionable, that the parents of these children won't believe anything I say."
"Jennifer, I'd love to stand here and listen to you reel off more amusing little verbal daggers, but we should get going." He ducked down and kissed her. "You're the most remarkable woman I've ever known. Put down your battle sword, I was only teasing. But I will go with you, because this could be difficult."
"Thanks." She shook her head at him. "It's funny. I go from wanting to punch you to wanting to kiss you."
"We'll do some of the latter as soon as we're sure these children are safe. Now, let me drop you off at Eugene's."
* * *
JAMES AND JENNIFER stood at the curb and watched as a big black cat trotted along the sidewalk toward them. "I hope you haven't been out tom-catting around," Jennifer said sharply.
Familiar didn't dignify her remark with a look. He went past her to the front door and rattled it a few times with his paw.
Spying James, Jennifer, and the cat on the porch, Eugene called out, "Come in, children. I've made a wonderful cheese grits soufflé and fresh-fried mullet. There are days when I simply must return to my childhood diet."
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