10

“Why won’t you let me call 9-1-1?” Jennie sat back on her heels beside the sofa where Mom lay.

“Absolutely not. I just fainted, that’s all.”

“Maybe I should call Dad, then.”

“No. I’m feeling much better. I’m going to lie here for a few minutes, then I’m going to the hospital to see Michael.” Mom handed Jennie the cool washcloth she’d put on her mother’s forehead earlier.

“If you have the flu it isn’t a good idea to go see Michael.”

“I don’t have the flu. I’m upset—too much stress, most likely.”

Jennie cringed, partly because if it wasn’t the flu it might be something more serious, and partly because of the extra burden of having Carlos there. “Mom, there’s something I should tell you.” She explained her father’s plans to bring Carlos home. “I think it would be really neat if he could stay with us, but you won’t hardly have to do anything. I’ll take care of him and Nick. You won’t even know he’s here.” Jennie heaved a sigh. “What am I saying? Maybe it would be better if he stayed with Aunt Kate or—”

“Nonsense. That poor child. Of course he can stay with us. It’ll be difficult, but we can manage.”

“Mom, are you sure? I thought with you not feeling good lately you might not want to.”

“Oh, Jennie, I wish you wouldn’t worry about me. We’ll get through this.”

Mom left half an hour later to go to the hospital. When she’d gone, Jennie pulled ground beef out of the freezer, deciding to make hamburger stroganoff—a family favorite. She prepared a fresh jug of lemonade and a pitcher of iced tea, then mixed up a raspberry gelatin dessert.

With the dessert made and chilling, Jennie went up to her room. Things had been happening so quickly since the fire, she hadn’t had a chance to do much thinking about it. Then with Mom being sick and Michael hanging on to life by a thread, she’d been too worried to try to think about much else.

“It just doesn’t seem real,” she said aloud as she moved aside her stuffed animals to make room on her window seat. Jennie loved her room with its bay window and Victorian flavor. She sat in the warm afternoon light. Somehow she kept expecting to wake up and find she’d been having a terrible nightmare. Part of her felt numb, like her brain had been shot full of Novocaine. Another part felt like the Novocaine was wearing off. She didn’t know what to do about Jared or if she should even do anything.

That afternoon when Dad had asked for her help, Jennie could hardly believe it. The thought of contributing something had left her feeling almost normal. She liked the idea of being involved in the case. Working with Carlos was a good start, but already she wanted more. The detective in her wouldn’t rest until she learned the truth and the police had the person or people responsible behind bars.

“So where do I start?” Where you usually start, McGrady, she answered herself. By writing it down. Jennie retrieved a pad and pen from her desk and went back to the window. On it she wrote: Trinity Arson Fire. Using her usual format, she divided the page into four columns across labeled suspect, motive, means, and opportunity. Moving down the page she drew a line under the labels and started listing suspects. Jared took first position, then Philippe. And Carlos. Though Jennie thought it unlikely that either Carlos or Philippe had started the fire, it was too soon to rule out anyone. And Philippe had confessed.

Another possibility struck her as she wondered about the identity of the person killed in the fire. Why was he there? Had he started the fire? Or had the fire been set to deliberately kill him and cover up another crime? Under suspects she wrote a big question mark. There were so many unknowns, Jennie doubted she’d ever be able to figure it out. There had to be other suspects as well. Anyone in the building could have done it. On a fresh sheet of paper she began listing the people she knew were at the church. Board meeting: Mr. Beaumont, Michael Rhodes, Reverend Cole, Pastor Dave, John Mossier, Charles Talbot. There were a couple of other people she couldn’t remember. Others who were at the church included Jared, Gavin, Philippe, Carlos, and Mrs. Talbot. She tapped her pen against her lip, wondering if she’d left anyone out.

Going back over the names, Jennie still felt the most likely suspect was Jared. Jared had both the means and the opportunity. He’d been at Trinity prior to the board meeting. He could have easily slipped into the basement, disconnected the wires, and started the fire. Under motive she wrote the word hate. Jennie found it hard to believe that people could actually murder someone or destroy a church because they didn’t like the color of someone’s skin or their beliefs or lifestyle. “But it happens,” she said aloud, thinking about what Marissa had told them about her parents. “What I don’t understand is why Michael believes so strongly in Jared’s innocence.”

The doorbell rang, putting an end to her musings. Jennie tore down the stairs to answer it. Lisa stood on the porch with B.J. and Allison.

“I hope you don’t mind our dropping by,” Allison said. “We need to talk.”

“No, come on in.” Jennie stepped back to allow them to enter, then led them to the kitchen. “Um—you guys want a Coke or lemonade or something?”

“Sure, Coke would be great.” B.J. hooked her leg over the barstool to watch.

The others opted for lemonade.

Lisa, as much at home at Jennie’s as in her own house, took down glasses while Jennie retrieved the drinks from the refrigerator.

“Let’s sit on the porch,” Jennie suggested. “I haven’t cleaned my room since before school started and I’m not sure I have much sitting space.”

“No problem.” B.J. lowered herself onto the lounge chair. Allison took the new white wicker rocker, curled one leg up under her, and set the rocker in motion with the other.

Jennie sank onto the porch swing and, once Lisa had climbed in, set it to swinging. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Al and I are working on a suspect list.” B.J. set her drink on the floor beside her.

“We think maybe the arsonist may have been after Dad.”

Jennie nearly choked on her lemonade. “Your dad? Why?”

“He’s made a lot of enemies lately.” Allison glanced at B.J. as if wanting her to take over.

“One of Dad’s businesses has been having financial trouble. He decided to downsize, which meant laying off about twenty people. He’s gotten some threatening letters.”

“Did he tell the police?” Jennie asked.

“No. He says he doesn’t think his employees would burn down his church to get even with him.”

“He’s probably right,” Lisa said. “If they wanted to hurt your dad, it seems like they’d figure out something that wouldn’t involve so many other people.”

“Lisa’s right,” Jennie agreed. “Whoever torched Trinity was ruthless. I mean, burning down a church and school doesn’t seem like a logical way to get revenge.”

“Maybe, but people who lose their jobs sometimes get desperate. Remember the postal worker who went to that restaurant and gunned down a bunch of innocent people? The guy who fired him wasn’t even there.”

“And there was a man who went into the KOIN building and took hostages.” Allison stilled the rocker. “I think we should check out Dad’s employees. B.J. and I already started. So far we’ve talked to four—all of them have other jobs already and didn’t seem all that upset. With the four of us working, we could get through the list much faster.”

“I’ll help,” Lisa volunteered. “How about you, Jennie?”

She shrugged. “I guess we should consider the possibility of revenge. But we need to let my dad know. He’s working on the case now.” She told them about the victim burned in the fire. “The fire could have been set to cover up a murder.”

Allison shuddered. “That’s so awful.” Tears filled her blue eyes. “Don’t you just feel like you want to … I don’t know …”

“Hurt someone?” B.J. finished. “I’d like to find whoever’s responsible and beat them to a pulp.” She clenched her fist.

“B.J., you shouldn’t be making threats you can’t follow through on,” Allison said in her big-sister voice. “The best thing we can do is figure out whether or not someone in Dad’s organization did it. I think the police should know, too, but not yet. I’ll tell our dad about your father handling the case, Jennie. He might change his mind. If not, we’d better wait until we find some solid evidence. Dad would be furious if the police started hassling people—especially if they didn’t do it.”

Jennie didn’t like the idea but agreed not to say anything for now. Allison reached into her canvas bag and retrieved some papers, then distributed them around. “We made up a list of employees from Dad’s files.”

B.J. tucked her hands behind her head and stretched out. “I figure you and Lisa can take the first half, and Al and I will take the rest.”

Jennie had to smile at the way B.J. had linked up with her sister. Only a month ago she would have preferred anyone’s company but Allison’s.

Jennie looked over the names. The list included each person’s position in the company and their addresses. “Any ideas on how we should approach these people? We can’t very well ring their doorbells and say, ‘Hi, I’m taking a survey. Did you burn down Trinity to get even with Mr. Beaumont?’”

“Get real, McGrady.” B.J. guzzled down the last of her Coke.

“Wait a minute,” Allison said. “The survey idea is good. We can develop a list of questions to ask. Like how long have they been in the neighborhood. Where they work, whether or not they go to church, what church they go to that sort of thing.”

“How did you handle the others?” Jennie asked.

B.J. shrugged. “We told them our dad was concerned about them and wanted to know how they were doing. Which is true.”

“I like that approach.” Lisa glanced at Jennie. “By showing concern for them which is really the truth we have a chance to get inside and talk to them for a while.”

“Their immediate response will tell us if they’re still mad at your father,” Jennie said.

“True.” Allison tipped her head to the side, letting her shimmering blond hair cascade forward. “The people we talked to thought it was so nice that Dad cared enough to check on them.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jennie said. “When do we start?”

“We’ll probably hit a few tonight after dinner.”

Jennie frowned. “I can’t go tonight. Dad’s bringing Carlos over. I’m supposed to be watching him.”

B.J. grimaced. “I heard you were taking him in. Dad thinks Philippe is covering up for Carlos.”

“What do you think?”

“I feel sorry for both of them,” B.J. said. “Poor kid is scared spitless. So’s his dad. Personally I think they’re innocent, which is why we wanted to check out Dad’s ex-employees.”

Lisa shifted around, tucking her legs up under her. “Rafael says his uncle is an honest man. He’s pretty upset that the police were so quick to take him into custody. He claims that Philippe’s getting a raw deal because he’s Hispanic.”

“That’s not true,” Jennie said, jumping to her father’s defense. “Dad has no choice but to take Philippe’s confession seriously. He’s trying to help.”

“I’m just telling you what Rafael said. You don’t have to get so upset.” Lisa bit on her lower lip.

Jennie sighed. “Sorry. This whole prejudice thing upsets me. Rafael is wrong. No matter what nationality Philippe is, he’ll be treated the same.”

“By Uncle Jason, maybe, but … well, never mind. We need to decide when we can go out and check on these people.” Lisa took a long sip of her drink, then leaned forward to set the glass down on the floor beside the swing.

“With Carlos being here and Mom not feeling well, I’m not sure when I can. Maybe tomorrow.”

“I know!” Lisa exclaimed. “You could bring Carlos and Nick over to my house in the morning. The boys will want to play with Kurt. I bet Mom will watch them for a few hours.” Lisa jumped out of the swing. “I’ll call her right now. See if they’re back from taking the boys swimming.”

While Lisa called home, the others took their empty glasses back to the kitchen, then went back outside to wait.

A few minutes later Lisa came out. “It’s all set. She said she’d be glad to watch the boys. Oh, and, Jennie, she wanted to know when you were picking up Nick. No hurry, she just wants to know if she should set an extra plate for him for dinner. I told her I thought you’d probably come get him since Carlos was coming.”

Glancing at her watch, Jennie winced. It was already five. “I’d better move it.” To Lisa she said, “Are you going with them or do you want me to take you?”

“Might as well ride with you.”

B.J. and Allison left, Jennie wrote a note for her parents, and Lisa called home to let her mother know what they were doing.

Jennie pulled into her driveway at six and began dinner, which wasn’t easy with a five-year-old hanging on her leg. “What’s that boy’s name again, Jennie?”

“Carlos.” Jennie pried him off and pointed to the refrigerator. “Go get me the mushrooms and an onion.”

“How old is he?” Nick opened the fridge and nearly disappeared inside.

“Eight.” Jennie pulled out the electric frying pan, turned it on, and dumped in the partly thawed hamburger.

Every time she answered one question, he came up with two more. “Why is he coming?”

“Because he needs a place to stay for a few days.”

“Why?”

“Because he does.”

“Can Kurt spend the night too?”

“Ask Mom.”

“When’s Mom coming home?”

“Soon. I hope.” Growing impatient, Jennie hustled him out of doors to play with Bernie. Five minutes later he was back inside, so she put him to work setting the dining-room table.

Mom finally arrived while Jennie was stirring the mushroom soup into her hamburger, onion, and mushroom mixture. Nick transferred his attention to her, explaining in detail what Jennie had told him about Carlos. Mom didn’t seem to mind his constant talking or his questions. She parked herself at the kitchen table and cuddled him.

“How are you feeling?” Jennie asked.

“Better. Wish I knew what was causing these spells. A nurse I talked with today said I might be anemic. I picked up a special vitamin supplement on my way home. Maybe that will help. And yes, I called to make an appointment with the doctor.”

“Good. How’s Michael?”

“No change, I’m afraid.” She gave Nick another squeeze. A car pulled into the driveway. “Sounds like your daddy’s home. Better go see.”

Jennie, nearly as anxious to see Dad and Carlos as Nick, turned down the heat on the frying pan, stirred the noodles, and followed her mother and brother into the living room.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Nick squealed over and over as he ran to the front door.

“Hey, there’s my boy.”

Jennie smiled as Dad scooped Nick into his arms and swung him around, then gave Mom a kiss. Carlos, head down and looking frightened, stood just inside the door. Dad took Carlos by the hand and drew him into the room. “Carlos, this is my family—Nick and Mrs. McGrady, and you know Jennie.” Dad pulled her into a warm hug, then turned back to his charge.

“Hi, Carlos.” Jennie gave him a welcome smile. “Hope you’re hungry. I made a big dinner.”

Though he didn’t say a word, his large dark eyes told her he was glad to see a familiar face. The idea of dinner seemed to brighten his sad features.

Not wanting to be left out, Bernie stood just outside the door and barked. Dad introduced him to Carlos, and for the next few minutes before dinner Nick and Carlos sat on the porch petting Bernie and getting licked in return.

Later that evening, Jennie helped the boys get ready for bed and read to them. Carlos was beginning to respond to her but still refused to or could not speak. She knew it would take a while to earn his trust, but she couldn’t help wishing he’d come around quickly.

Mom and Dad came up to tuck the boys in.

“Are you two ready for prayers?” Mom asked.

Carlos jumped up and ran to his bag. He held up a rosary and clutched the cross in his hand, fingering the beads.

“What’s that?” Nick asked.

Dad explained the Catholic tradition of praying the rosary.

“Can we say that one for Carlos, Dad?”

“Sure. I don’t know all of it, but we can say the Apostles’ Creed and the Lord’s Prayer. Then we’ll let Carlos do the rest.”

Dad said something in Spanish to Carlos and they all knelt around the bed.

Afterward, Nick recited his special prayer. “And dear God, please help my new friend Carlos to talk again and please help us be his friends.”

With tears in her eyes, Jennie kissed both boys goodnight and went downstairs. The dishes from dinner were still stacked in the sink, so Jennie went to work on them.

A few minutes later she heard voices in the living room. “I can’t believe you’re going out again tonight,” Dad said, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“Keep your voice down. I thought we already settled this.”

“Honey, I have no problem with you visiting Michael once—maybe even twice a day. What I don’t understand is this crazy notion that you need to be there all night. The man’s an adult—he has nurses at his side around the clock. You, on the other hand, have a family.”

“But he doesn’t. I finally got word to his sister, and she’ll be here in a couple of days. In the meantime I am his family, and I intend to be with him as much as possible.”

“And I’m your husband, or have you forgotten that?”

“Jason, don’t—”

“Don’t what? You want me to pretend it doesn’t bother me? I can’t do that. I need you here, Susan. You owe me that much.”

“I owe you?!” Mom’s voice rose a couple octaves. “Jason McGrady, I don’t owe you anything. You disappear from our lives for five years, without so much as a phone call, then you come back and expect me to be the dutiful little wife who bows to your every whim? I don’t think so.”

Jennie’s heart felt tight. She could hardly breathe. Please don’t argue. Please, she pleaded silently. Jennie squeezed her eyes tight and forced her hands deep into the dishwater, grabbing hold of the silverware and willing herself to concentrate on washing them.

“I’m leaving now,” Mom announced. “I may or may not be back in the morning.” The front door slammed with a finality that nearly jerked Jennie’s heart out.