“Doug ran us off the road?” Jennie stared at him, refusing to believe that her new neighbor would try to kill her. “But he didn’t even know I’d gone to the beach.”
Rocky closed his notebook with a snap. “He could have followed you.”
“Then why did he wait until we were coming back? The traffic wasn’t that heavy going down. He had plenty of opportunities. Besides, he doesn’t have a truck.” Why are you defending him, McGrady? she asked herself. He’d seemed nice enough the last time they’d talked, but he could have been lulling her into a false sense of security.
“He could have stolen one.”
Jennie frowned and sighed. “I suppose you have proof?”
“Enough. Reed didn’t show up for work yesterday. His mother hasn’t seen him since Tuesday night. The kid’s on the run.”
“I thought he had an alibi for when Nick disappeared. He was applying for a job.”
“Yes, but Reed was one of a hundred applicants for two positions. Truth is, no one at Hammond’s can attest to the fact that he was actually there the whole time.”
“What about the guy who saw Cathy leave with the kids? Doug wasn’t with them.”
“We’re still working on that angle. Look, Jennie, we have evidence that links Reed to the crime.”
“I’m afraid he’s right, dear,” Gram said.
“He may have been the one who hit Bernie,” Rocky added. “We found blood and dog hairs in his trunk. Lab guys are checking it out now.”
Jennie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Something didn’t fit, but Jennie couldn’t think what. In fact, she couldn’t think at all. “My brain is going numb.”
“You need to rest,” Mom said. “The doctor said you could probably go home this morning.” She turned to Rocky. “I appreciate you trying to get to the bottom of this, but you’re talking to Jennie as if she were working on the case. She isn’t.”
Jennie started to object, but Mom hushed her. “I know you like to think of yourself as a detective, but you’re not. And until the police have Doug, or whoever is responsible, behind bars, you are staying at home. I don’t intend to let you out of my sight until … well, until it’s over.” Mom gripped the bed rail and took a deep breath. “I may have lost one child, but God help me, I am not going to lose you.”
You haven’t lost Nick, Jennie wanted to argue, but didn’t. She had no energy left for arguments she might not win.
If Jennie had ever thought of her mother as weak, she quickly altered her opinion. Susan McGrady was giving the orders now and everyone, including Gram, followed them. Mom wanted Jennie home. The doctor agreed. She didn’t want Rocky or Gram talking to Jennie about the case. They promised not to say anything to Jennie without clearing it with her mother first.
Before leaving the hospital, Jennie stopped by to see Ryan. The T-shirt she’d wrapped around his head had been replaced by a gauzy white bandage. After greeting her, he tugged at her hand and pulled her forward for a kiss. “You know something, McGrady? You ought to wear some kind of a warning label.”
“Huh?”
“Every time I’m around you I get hit on the head. You need a sign that says in big red letters: Danger: being friends with me can be hazardous to your health.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Hey, it isn’t your fault. I’m okay. Really. The doctor just wants to keep me around until the swelling goes down. Maybe tomorrow.”
Jennie squeezed his hand and told him about her mother’s tirade. Instead of empathizing, he smiled. “It’s about time somebody put a leash on you—ow!” he yelped when Jennie gave his shoulder a gentle punch.
At Mom’s insistence, Jennie spent the rest of the day shuffling between her bed and the living room sofa. The arrangement didn’t bother Jennie. At the moment, she ached too much to do anything but lie around.
Jennie’s tolerance of her mother’s overprotective attitude and her pain medication wore off at about the same time. It happened at ten the next morning when Jennie walked into the kitchen and overheard Mom on the phone.
“I’m sorry, Lisa, I’d rather you didn’t.”
Jennie reached for the phone. “Let me talk to her!”
Mom shook her head and held her hand up. Into the receiver she said, “Maybe tomorrow.”
When Mom hung up and turned around, Jennie still had her mouth open. “I can’t believe you just did that,” she sputtered. “Why didn’t you let me talk to her?”
“Because you need to rest. I didn’t want her upsetting you.”
“Upsetting me? You’re the one who’s upsetting me.”
“Jennie, calm down. I said you could talk to her tomorrow.” Mom brushed by her and headed for the stove. She removed the cover on what looked and smelled like chicken soup and stirred it.
“Mom, wanting to protect me from the bad guys is one thing, but Lisa’s my cousin.”
“She wanted to take you to the mall. I didn’t think that was a good idea, okay?”
“No,” Jennie whined. “It’s not okay. You should have asked me.”
“Asked you?” Mom spun around to face Jennie. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the parent around here. You, young lady, are the child.”
“I am not a child. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m sixteen. You told me I was old enough to make my own decisions. I thought you trusted me. Mom, you haven’t screened my phone calls since I was … I can’t remember when.”
Mom glanced away, opened her mouth, then closed it again. Tears gathered in her eyes.
“I could understand if I’d done something wrong,” Jennie went on, “but I haven’t.”
“Oh, Jennie, I’m so sorry. This whole thing is making me crazy. I feel like I’m losing control. I just don’t want to lose you.”
Jennie’s anger dissipated like a balloon gone flat. “You’re not going to lose me. Look, I promise not to do anything dangerous, okay?”
Mom covered the pot and sighed. “I guess it will have to do.”
Gram came into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table. “Susan, how well do you know Anne Stuart?”
“We’ve visited a few times. Apparently I don’t know her as well as I thought. I never dreamed Chuck had been abusing her. Why do you ask?”
“I’d like you to invite Anne over here for a talk. I have a feeling she knows more about the children’s disappearance than she’s been letting on.”
Mom sighed, “Apparently you don’t agree with the police. You don’t think Doug Reed is guilty?”
“He may be. Revenge is a strong motive. But somehow I doubt it. I suppose it’s possible, but why on earth would he bring the dog back?”
“Maybe he wanted to make sure Bernie was found,” Jennie suggested, setting her discussion with Mom aside.
“Exactly. That hardly sounds like the kind of cold-blooded person who would abduct three people, then bomb their car.”
“I wondered about that. Doug may not be the brightest guy in the world, but I can’t imagine him being dumb enough to steal a truck and run Ryan and me off the road.”
Mom brushed aside a lock of auburn hair. “Are you saying you think Anne would be involved in those things? That’s ludicrous.”
“I agree. It’s just that her actions seem a bit unusual. Anne didn’t show up at the station yesterday to undergo questioning.”
“Did she say why?” Jennie could understand Anne’s reluctance; she hadn’t wanted to go either.
“She was making funeral arrangements.”
“Oh,” Jennie felt sick. “Cathy’s car.” Jennie couldn’t accept the possibility that Nick had died in that explosion. “You don’t think Anne killed her sister and …” Jennie couldn’t finish.
“No, dear.” Gram placed her warm hand over Jennie’s. “But she is jumping to conclusions. The forensics lab has found no evidence to suggest anyone was in the car. All they have so far are pieces of luggage and clothing.”
“Then why would Anne be making funeral arrangements?”
“I think I can answer that,” Mom said. “Maybe she wants it to be over. Sometimes it’s easier to accept the fact that someone has died than to go on wondering where they are and what could have happened to them.”
“Is that what you think, Mom?” Jennie asked, angered by her mother’s logic. “You want Nick to be dead so you don’t have to worry about it anymore?”
“Jennie! Of course not.” Mom jerked to her feet and took her cup to the sink. “That’s not what I meant.” She turned back around, folding her arms across her chest. “I don’t know what I meant. Part of me is ready to give up. Another part refuses. It’s all very confusing.”
Gram and Jennie agreed on that point. They also agreed that it was too soon to make funeral arrangements. “Do you really think talking to Anne will clear any of this up?” Mom asked.
Gram shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s certainly worth a try.”
While Mom called Anne, Jennie went to her room to call Lisa back.
“Jennie, I’m so glad you called. I have to talk to you.”
“I take it you’re feeling better. Mom said you were sick yesterday.”
“I’m fine—just a flu bug, I guess. That’s not important.” Lisa chattered on the way she often did when she got nervous. “You don’t believe Doug is guilty, do you? He isn’t, you know. He told us …”
“What do you mean, he told you? Do you know where he is?”
“We have him hidden.”
“You what?” Jennie sank onto her bed.
“It was B.J.’s idea, but we all went along with it. We thought if we could hide him out long enough the police would be able to find out who really ran you off the road and took Nick.”
Jennie groaned. “Lisa, it doesn’t work that way. Doug should never have run away. Now the police are convinced he did it. They’re probably not even going to look for anyone else.”
“But they have to!” Lisa gasped.
Jennie sank onto her bed. “No they don’t. Besides, how do you know he’s innocent? The police found blood in his car. He ran over Bernie.”
“Not on purpose. He feels really bad about that. Bernie ran in front of his car. He was going to take him to the vet. Then he got scared when he found out Nick was missing. He was afraid the police would blame him.”
“Of course they would. Did it ever occur to you they might be right?”
“Well, they’re not.”
Jennie groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “Look, Lisa, I know you guys want to help him, but you’re making a mistake. The best way to help Doug is to tell him to turn himself in.”
“I can’t believe you’d say that. Maybe B.J. was right. She was afraid you’d blab to the cops. She didn’t want me to tell you, but I thought you should know. You won’t tell, will you?”
“Lisa, you’re asking me to be an accomplice. It’s against the law to harbor a criminal.”
“Doug isn’t a criminal—not anymore.”
“You don’t know that. He could be stringing you along.”
“He’s not. Please, Jennie, you’ve got to help him. I’ve talked to him. He wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a million years. He didn’t take Nick either.”
Jennie pinched the bridge of her nose. Deep down she wanted to believe in Doug’s innocence too. “Okay. I won’t say anything for now—at least not until I talk to him. Look, I’ve got to go. Anne’s downstairs. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I appreciate your having me over for coffee, Susan,” Anne was saying as Jennie entered the kitchen. Gram and Mom sat at either side of her, and Jennie lowered herself into the chair next to Gram and opposite Anne. “The house seems so big and empty. I’d thought about going to stay with my parents, but the police want me to come in for questioning. Ironic, isn’t it, that the police would want to spend so much time questioning the victims.” Anne looked up from her coffee and offered Jennie a half-smile. “Hi, Jennie. I heard about your accident. Have the police found the young man who did it? It’s hard to imagine having a criminal living so close right across the street.”
“No.” Jennie looked into Anne’s wide pale-green eyes. “Personally, I think the police are after the wrong person.”
“Really?” Anne broke eye contact with Jennie, glanced at Gram, then back at her coffee. She lifted the cup to her lips. “I thought they had proof.”
“Proof doesn’t always tell the entire story.” Gram lifted her cup, but didn’t take a drink. “How are you, Anne? It must be difficult for you, with Cathy and Hannah gone. And your husband … I understand he hasn’t been home since Tuesday night. Jennie told us about the argument.”
Anne lifted a delicate hand to her face. “N—no, he hasn’t. We’re getting a divorce.”
“You haven’t seen Chuck?” Jennie asked. “I thought maybe you’d gotten together. I saw your van at your parents’ place …”
She shook her head and frowned. “No. That must have been someone else. I haven’t been there. And I’m sure Chuck wouldn’t have gone to see them on his own. He and Dad aren’t on the best terms.”
“Anne …” Gram scooted her chair closer to the table. “Did Cathy take the children?”
“Of course not. Why would you ask me that?”
“Did the police tell you about the man who saw Cathy leave?” Gram answered with another question.
“Yes. But he must have been wrong.”
“He saw Cathy leave,” Gram went on. “She was driving your Honda. He didn’t see the children, but I suspect they were with her. Bernie was chasing the car and I doubt he’d have done that unless Nick was in it.”
“I … I don’t know,” Anne stammered. “I suppose she may have taken them somewhere. Maybe to the park or to the store. I guess now we’ll never know for sure.” Anne set her cup down, drew a wad of tissues from her dress pocket, and dabbed at the tears gathering in her eyes. “I’m having the funeral tomorrow.”
“Why?” Gram asked.
“What?” Anne raised her head up.
“The police haven’t confirmed that Cathy or the kids were in the car when it exploded,” Gram continued. “So why have you arranged for a funeral?”
“They were. They must have been. What other reason …” Anne drew in a ragged breath and raised her hands to cover her eyes.
Gram leaned forward, placing an arm across Anne’s shoulder. “I think it’s time to tell the truth, Anne. Tell us what really happened.”