Jennie contemplated several openings, then settled on, “I heard you helped post bail for Jerry today. I wanted to thank you. He’s a good friend.”
Mr. B. nodded.
“You must be sure he isn’t the real stalker.”
“I’m not sure of anything, Jennie.” He sighed. “Allison and Michael are convinced. The boy has no criminal record. He’s been an exemplary student; so I guess until or unless the police prove otherwise…” His sentence faded.
“I believe in Jerry too—at least I want to,” Jennie said, “but I can’t help wondering about the evidence they found in his truck. That was your gun, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, from my collection.”
“Any idea who might have taken it?”
Mr. B. tipped his head and cocked an eyebrow. “Why all the questions?”
Jennie dug her fingers into the chair arms. Should she tell him the truth and risk getting thrown out, or should she feign simple curiosity and risk the same? Earlier she’d suspected Mr. Beaumont; now her intuition told her he was just as much a victim as Allison. Drawing in a deep breath, Jennie decided to tell him the truth. “This might sound kind of strange, Mr. B, but Allison asked me to help find the stalker.”
“Allison…you?” he sputtered.
“Wait a second, Mr. B., let me explain.”
“This better be good.”
“I’m not a private detective or anything, but I plan to study law in college…let me put it this way. My grandfather, Ian McGrady, was with the FBI. So was—is my father. My grandmother, Helen McGrady, used to be a police officer. Ever since I was a kid, she and I would take cases from the paper and try to solve them before the police did. Gram taught me a lot. Anyway, I’ve solved a couple of real cases…”
“And you think you can solve this one?” Mr. B looked even more weary. “I’m sorry, Jennie. You’re only a child. I can’t let you jeopardize your life, or the investigation, by letting you get involved in something like this. We’re dealing with a stalker here. A man threatening murder. I know you want to help, but if you insist on playing these detective games, I’ll have to ask you to leave.” He dragged his hand down his face. “Allison asked you to help?”
Jennie nodded. “She said you weren’t taking this seriously. She was afraid…”
“Not taking…” He shook his head in disbelief. “I told her there was nothing to worry about because I didn’t want her to be upset.” Returning his gaze to Jennie, he said, “I’m sorry she dragged you into this. I’ll have a talk with her. The police are doing an adequate job. Now I suggest you go back to the party and have fun.”
“All right, but can I make a suggestion?” “What’s that?”
“Have the police check out Rocky. I suspect he’s working under an assumed name. He gave Lisa a fake name.”
“I’m afraid your detective skills aren’t as finely tuned as you seem to think, young lady. You’re wrong about Rocky. I check out all my employees. His references are impeccable.” Mr. B. glanced at his watch. “Was that all you wanted?”
His words had cut deep, but Jennie tried not to let it show. “I did want to ask how B.J. was doing. After this morning…I mean…she seemed pretty upset.”
Pain flickered in his eyes, and Jennie saw the same weariness she’d witnessed on the courthouse steps. He rubbed at his brow.
“Never mind,” Jennie began, “it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked—”
“No, it’s okay. There’s no point in hiding it. You’ll find out soon enough anyway. Bethany’s gone. She’s at Children’s Services waiting for placement in a foster home.”
“Oh, no.” Jennie leaned forward and rested her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” It had been an automatic response, but the moment Jennie realized what she’d done she slowly pulled her hand away.
He didn’t seem to notice. “My wife said you’d suggested we see a counselor. Looks like we’ll be doing just that. Just hope it’s not too late.”
“B.J. will come around. She just needs time to adjust. It hasn’t been that long since her mom died. My dad’s been gone for five years and…” Its different, McGrady. Dad’s not dead. “Just trust me, Mr. Beaumont. It takes a long time.”
As Jennie left his office an outrageous idea began to form in her mind. Oh, no, McGrady. You don’t really want to do this. The last thing you need right now is another project.
Underneath all the objections Jennie heard another stronger voice. B.J. needs a friend. Maybe you can help.
She’d had experience with this particular voice before. Gram said it was an inner voice—God’s Spirit in us, prompting us to do good. Jennie wasn’t sure about that. All she knew was that the voice didn’t give up easily.
She picked up the phone and called Michael, then told him about B.J., briefly filling him in. “I was just wondering if you’d go see her, talk to her. And…um…Michael, tell her if she wants she can stay with us for a while. That is, if it’s okay with Mom.”
“There, I’ve done it,” she muttered to the persistent voice as she hung up the phone. “I hope you’re happy.”
Despite her reservations, Jennie could feel a warm glow start from somewhere deep inside and work its way out. Jennie made her way back to the party. It took her several minutes to spot Lisa, Brad, Allison, and Jerry at the far end of the pool. She began weaving around the bodies, and about five conversations and updates on several good friends later, Jennie finally reached her goal. “Hi, Jennie.” Allison grinned and motioned for her to sit in the empty chair between her and Lisa. “Daddy’s about to put the hamburgers on.”
“Great, I’m starved.” Brad patted his stomach. “You’re always starved,” Lisa teased as she poked him in the stomach. He jumped to his feet, whisked Lisa out of her chair, and dumped her in the pool. A couple of seconds later Lisa surfaced, sputtering, “Brad, you come back here. I’ll get you for that.”
Jennie laughed. “She will, too. I’d watch my back for a while if I were you.” The words brought some not so distant memories tumbling into her mind. She remembered the fun she’d had with Scott in the pool at Dolphin Island. Longing filled her—for the easy companionship they’d enjoyed. It would be fun to have Scott here. It would be even more fun to have Ryan. Face it, McGrady. You’d just like to have a date.
“You okay?” Lisa laid a dripping hand on Jennie’s shoulder.
Jennie brushed the memories away. “I’m fine. At least I was until you got me all wet.”
You don’t have time for men. You’ve got work to do. Jennie had planned on eating before going into Beaumont’s office, but the mounting anxiety over what she was about to do had obliterated her appetite. Mr. B had called Rocky a fine, upstanding citizen. If that were true, Jennie was a washout as a detective. Her instincts told her Rocky—alias Robert Kennedy—or whatever his name was, was hiding something. And she intended to find out what.
Jennie glanced around. “Where’s Rocky?” Even though Mr. B was occupied, Jennie did not want to chance running into the object of her investigation.
“I saw him over by the grill talking to Daddy a few minutes ago.” Now? Allison mouthed.
Jennie nodded. “I hope you guys don’t mind, but I need to talk to Lisa and Allison alone for a sec.”
“Go ahead.” Brad turned to Jerry. “You turning out for football this year?”
“Hope to…” Their voices faded as Jennie walked away. It amazed her how quickly guys could shift from girls to sports.
In hushed tones, Jennie told them about the conversation she’d had with Allison’s dad. She didn’t mention what she’d learned about B.J. There’d be time enough for that later. Besides, Jennie had a hunch their parents hadn’t told Allison, and she didn’t want to be the one to break the news.
“I’m going to see if I can find Rocky’s file, then I’m out. Shouldn’t need more than about fifteen, twenty minutes. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I have to know.”
Lisa and Allison promised to keep Rocky and Beaumont out of the house to give Jennie the time she needed to find and examine Rocky’s personnel file.
Just as she reached Mr. Beaumont’s office, the doorbell rang. Jennie debated whether or not to answer, then realized she’d better or someone would come in to answer it. She swung open the door. “Paige. Eddie.”
“Sorry we’re late.” Eddie’s voice was tight and clipped.
Paige stepped in behind Eddie, her lips pinched so tight they looked like they’d been glued shut.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jennie assured them. “They’re just starting the hamburgers.” Jennie was no expert on human nature, but it didn’t take a psychiatrist to see they’d been arguing. Under Paige’s carefully applied makeup, Jennie could make out the pasty complexion and the telltale puffiness of a first-class cry.
She pretended not to notice as she told them where to put their things. Jennie watched them mount the steps and disappear down the hall, and couldn’t help wondering if the “appointment” Paige had mentioned earlier that afternoon had anything to do with their distress. The word pregnant passed through Jennie’s brain, but she dismissed the idea. Paige had too much going for her to fall into that trap.
Jennie deliberated over whether or not to wait for them to come down before going into Beaumont’s office. They made the decision for her. After only a few seconds they descended the stairs hand in hand. Eddie rubbed his stomach. “I smell food. Lead me to it.” Paige laughed and made all the appropriate sounds as they joined the others. Whatever had been bothering them had apparently been tabled.
Jennie closed the sliding glass door. That way she’d hear anyone coming in while she was in Mr. B’s office. Quit stalling, McGrady. Let’s get this over with. The office was closed but not locked. She opened the door slowly and slipped inside. Jennie paused to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Mr. B had closed his blinds again. Having watched him earlier, Jennie quickly found the chain and carefully opened them a crack. Long strands of light shivered across the desk and up the bookshelf.
Jennie took a deep breath and turned on the computer. In the silence it sounded more like the roar of a jet engine than the purr of an office machine. Once the screen appeared, Jennie pulled up the directory roots and branches and scanned the list. She tried a directory titled “Employee” and found a list of names.
Getting into the directory was easy; finding Rocky’s file proved more difficult. There was no listing under Kennedy. Now why didn’t that surprise her? On a hunch Jennie tried the r’s. Roberts. She accessed the file. Roberts, Edna. Scratch that.
Rochester, Rockford…Rockford-Rock-Rocky.
Jennie retrieved the file. “Bingo,” she murmured. Rockford, Dean; Nickname: Rocky; Age: 20. At least he’d told the truth about that. Male. No kidding. Address: 2218 E. 3rd St., Vancouver. She stared at the screen, committing the address to memory.
Shhhh. A soft brushing sound alerted Jennie. The sliding glass door. Someone was coming. Don’t panic, McGrady. It’s probably one of the kids. Jennie tried to concentrate on the computer screen. Just a few more seconds. Click. Jennie’s head snapped up at the sound. The door opened.