Mom finished turning the chicken, placed the dish back in the refrigerator, and washed her hands. “How would you feel about inviting Anne to eat with us tonight?” Mom paused to dry her hands. “I have a feeling she could use the company.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea. I know Chuck abused her, but she shouldn’t have tried to take Hannah. She should have gone to someone for help. The church would have found a safe place for her. There are women’s shelters.”
“It’s hard to understand why people make the choices they do. Anne may have felt trapped and powerless. We mustn’t judge her too harshly. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have an abusive husband.”
Jennie couldn’t either. The one thing that puzzled her most of all was that Anne would let it go on so long. “Why didn’t she just leave when it started?”
“It’s difficult to say. Maybe she thought it was her fault. Sometimes when people abuse others, the victims end up feeling like they’ve done something wrong. That if they acted differently, the abuse wouldn’t be happening. Maybe she was afraid? I’ve seen a number of television programs about battered women who stayed because they were terrified of what their husbands might do to them.”
Jennie set the celery she’d cut up on the tray between the broccoli and the cauliflower. “I guess inviting her over would be a good idea.”
The phone rang as Jennie reached for the doorknob. She grabbed for the receiver instead.
Her favorite policeman’s mellow voice greeted her, then said, “Just wanted to thank you for getting Doug to turn himself in. The kid’s okay. We took his statement and I’m pretty sure he’ll be released.”
“That’s great. He was so afraid you wouldn’t believe him.”
“Well, he’s not out of the woods yet. After getting Anne Stuart’s statement this morning, we’re looking at other options.”
“Mom told me about Chuck and Cathy. You really think they were in on it together?”
“It’s looking more and more that way. The deputy in Lincoln City says Mr. Williams reported his truck stolen last evening just after you and Ryan had been there. He accused Ryan until he found out Ryan was in the car with you. The truck turned up the next morning.”
“Was it the one that hit us?”
“Hard to say. It was so pretty banged up to begin with. You said you saw the Stuarts’ van in the Williams’ parking lot?”
“Yes. I thought maybe Anne and Chuck were there, but I suppose he could have been there with Cathy—or, it may not have been their van at all. I mean, why would they go to the Williams’? Mr. and Mrs. Williams would never condone their actions. And why would they want me out of the way?”
“You were asking a lot of questions, both at Pacific University and at the Bed and Breakfast. It’s entirely possible that one or both of them felt threatened. Look, Jennie,” Rocky sounded annoyed. “I didn’t call to get your opinion or to go over the case with you. I don’t even want you to think about what might have happened. Leave that to us. I called to thank you for getting Doug to come in and—” His annoyance changed to concern. “And to tell you to be careful. Someone tried to kill you once. If they still see you as a threat they might try it again.”
After hanging up, Jennie briefed her mother on Rocky’s call, leaving out the part about her still being in danger. Mom didn’t need any more worries. Besides, Jennie had no intention of investigating anything—at least not until after dinner.
As Jennie trudged across the lawns to invite Anne Stuart to dinner, she vacillated between feeling sorry for the woman and being angry with her. Anne may have thought running away was the best answer, but it wasn’t. Jennie tried to imagine what it must have been like for Anne, living with such a dark secret, trying to put on a front for people.
She ambled up the back steps, suddenly nervous. Come on, McGrady, she gave herself a pep talk. Anne needs your support. Jennie rang the doorbell. When Anne didn’t answer, Jennie started to leave, then turned back. According to Mom, Anne was home. So why wasn’t she answering the door?
Jennie could think of a lot of reasons. She might be hurt. Chuck and Cathy may have come back to finish her off. Or she may have decided to commit suicide. The possibilities propelled Jennie up the back porch steps. She rang the bell again. When no one answered, she tried the knob. It opened easily and Jennie stepped inside. She listened for sounds that might indicate someone was home, heard only the thumping of her heart in her ears. “Anne?” Jennie checked the laundry and living room. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and started up the stairs. “Anne!” Jennie called as she climbed the stairway.
“I’m in the bedroom, Jennie.” Anne’s voice held a hostile tone. Anne may not have answered the door because she didn’t want to be bothered.
“I … I’m sorry.” Jennie walked into the master bedroom. “When you didn’t answer the door, I got worried.”
A suitcase lay open on the bed along with a dozen or so articles of clothing. “You didn’t need to worry. I’m fine.” Anne’s voice came from the walk-in closet.
“Are you going to stay with your parents?” Something about the picture didn’t look or feel right. Anne was packing her things. Jennie could see Chuck’s closet from her vantage point near the bed. It looked much as it had the day she and Lisa had searched the house. If Chuck had disappeared with Cathy, wouldn’t he have taken his clothes?
“Yes.” Anne exited the closet and dropped her armload of blouses on the bed, then went back for more. “Sorry I can’t chat with you.”
Jennie ignored the hint. “Mom wanted me to invite you for dinner,” she said, wandering over to a dresser where Anne kept a collection of photos. They looked like such a normal family. Someone had propped a note next to Anne and Chuck’s wedding picture. Jennie hadn’t intended to read it. But the words jumped out at her.
I can no longer live with what I have become. I murdered Cathy and plan to kill Anne and Hannah, then kill myself. Chuck Stuart
Jennie pressed her hand to her mouth and backed away. “You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Anne emerged from the closet and threw several pairs of shoes on the floor.
Jennie tore her gaze from the letter and focused on Anne—or rather on the gun Anne retrieved from her suitcase. “I knew you’d be trouble from the start. I thought maybe running you off the road would get you out of the way, but no.”
“You—” Jennie gasped. “You were behind this from the beginning? Then Chuck didn’t find out about your plan. He wasn’t having an affair with Cathy.”
“Chuck and Cathy? That’s rich.” Anne’s lips separated into what might have been a smile if there hadn’t been so much hatred in her eyes. “Chuck didn’t know until I told him.”
“I don’t understand. The note …”
“Chuck is only getting what he deserves. The police will eventually find his body. They’ll have already read his confession and the case will be closed. Of course they’ll never find our bodies, but after a while they’ll stop looking.”
“Did you kill him?”
Anne moved away from the bed, waving the gun from Jennie to the bed and back again. “Get over here and finish packing my things.” She glanced at her watch. “Hurry.”
Jennie stuffed the clothes into the oversized bag and zipped it shut. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
“Oh, but I am and you’re going to help me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Jennie, we have Nick.”
The words slammed into Jennie’s brain so hard she felt their impact clear down in her stomach. “Nick’s shirt. The anonymous phone call about seeing a man in the park with Nick. That was you?”
“I wanted everyone to believe someone had abducted Cathy and the children. Don’t worry, Nick is alive.” Anne answered the question before Jennie could ask it. “But if you ever want to see him again, you’ll do as I say. Understood?”
Jennie nodded. “What about the shirt? The police found blood on it.”
“Hannah has one just like it. I cut myself and smeared blood all over it, and tossed it in some bushes.”
“The police will do DNA testing and realize the blood isn’t Nick’s but yours,” Jennie said. Somehow she needed to stall Anne until she could figure out what to do.
“By the time they get their results this will all be over and it won’t matter anymore.” She glanced at her watch again. “Let’s go. Take the bags downstairs.”
Jennie picked them up. If the bags had been a little lighter and Anne a little closer, Jennie could have used them as weapons. Even if you could overpower her, McGrady, would you want to? She’s going to take you to Nick. The only chance you may have of finding him is to play along.
Anne opened the garage door. The blue van was sitting inside. “Put the cases in the van.”
Jennie set the cases just inside the door and slid them back beside a heavy canvas tarp.
“Now, get down on the floor. Face down. Put your hands behind you.”
Anne tied Jennie’s hands together, gagged her, then wrapped a piece of rope around Jennie’s ankles. “That should hold you.”
“Hmmm,” Jennie protested, but her captor’s only response was to slam the door shut. After a few minutes, Anne climbed in the driver’s side, started the car, waited for the garage door opener to complete its grinding chore, then backed out.
“Cheer up, Jennie,” Anne said after she’d gone a few blocks. “It’s all for a good cause. We really didn’t mean to take Nick. Truth is, Cathy sent him home. Only he wouldn’t go. Hannah had told him she was frightened and begged him to come with her. I guess he wanted to protect her. Anyway, he climbed into the car when Cathy wasn’t looking. She didn’t know he was there until she met Mother at Timberline. By then the police were looking for him.
“Mother wanted to bring him back, but we couldn’t take the chance. He knew too much.” Anne hesitated, then in a lighter tone added, “We were going to call you when we’d gotten to Canada—to let you know where he was. Now I’m not sure what to do.”
Jennie didn’t know whether to cry or scream. They were all crazy. Apparently Anne felt she’d explained enough or maybe too much. Jennie shifted into what she hoped would be a more comfortable position. When she did, her foot caught on the tarp lying next to her. The tarp slid away from what it had been covering—Chuck Stuart’s body.