Silent Witness

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Hey, I didn’t bargain for this. What if they find out?” After a few moments, Scott spoke again, this time his voice calmer. “Yeah, well make sure it doesn’t.” Scott hung up, and Jennie slipped around to the opposite side of the building.

  It’s probably nothing, McGrady, she tried to assure herself. But no matter how hard she tried not to connect them, she had the terrible feeling Scott’s phone call had something to do with Delilah.

  Jennie waited until Scott had moved away from the building, then ran after him. She wouldn’t mention the phone call-at least not yet. Maybe he’d tell her on his own. As she raced past the office door, Jennie collided with a man coming out.

  The impact threw her off balance, but the man pulled her up just before she hit the ground. Once she was back on her feet, Jennie nearly fell over again when she recognized him. Carl Layton. Sarah’s stepfather.

  “Are you okay, miss?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’m fine,” Jennie said, feeling off balance in more ways than one. “Oh, Mr. Layton, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. I was …”

  “Going after your boyfriend?” Carl nodded in Scott’s direction, smiled, and winked.

  Jennie could feel the warmth creeping into her cheeks. “No … I mean he’s not …”

  “You might want to let him cool off a bit. He looked pretty upset when he passed me a moment ago.”

  Jennie decided to let his comment pass. It would have been too hard to explain anyway. “Thanks,” she said, finally. “I’ll do that.”

  “By the way,” Carl said, scrutinizing her. With his tanned muscular arms folded against his chest, he reminded Jennie of Mr. Clean with hair. “How did you know my name? Have we met before?”

  Jennie introduced herself and explained how she’d seen him at the airport with Maggie and Sarah.

  He nodded and flashed her a warm smile. “Then, you’ve met my girls. Do you know where I can find them? There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the office.”

  “They … ah … went into town with Tim,” Jennie offered, not certain whether to tell him the whole story. “Well, then, maybe you could show me to their living quarters.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand why they’d leave. I phoned Maggie this morning to let her know I was coming in early.” He stroked his chin and frowned. “Say, nothing’s happened, has it? Is Sarah okay?”

  “Sarah’s okay,” she said, unsure of how much to tell him. He was family and deserved to know what happened. Better keep your mouth shut, an inner voice cautioned. With your luck, you’ll just make things worse for Debbie and Ken.

  “Come on,” she said, opting not to tell him. “I’ll show you where they’re staying.”

  Jennie left him at the Layton cabin and hurried on to her own. Gram was sitting at the patio table working on her computer. Jennie told her about Carl’s arrival, but she didn’t seem too interested.

  “That’s nice, dear,” Gram murmured, her attention still on the screen. “By the way, your mother called. She sounded worried.”

  “She always sounds worried.” Knowing Gram wasn’t

  ready to talk to her about Carl yet, Jennie called home. “Hi, Mom,” she said when her mother answered. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing really. I miss you. Are you doing all right? Eating okay?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. The people who run this place are vegetarians.” Jennie wrinkled her nose. “I’m getting plenty of greens.”

  “Oh, dear. Are you getting enough meat? I just read an article about teenage girls who diet and don’t get enough protein.”

  “Mom, I’m not stupid. You don’t have to worry.”

  “I’m sorry. Of course you’re not.” She hesitated. “I didn’t mean to nag. Let’s talk about something else.”

  After telling Jennie how great Nick was doing, Mom spent the next five minutes talking about Michael. Jennie felt depressed after hanging up. Her mother had shared lots of news—most of it bad—at least as far as Jennie was concerned. Michael was taking them out for dinner. Michael had brought her a dozen roses. Probably the worst news was that Michael and Mom had started seeing the pastor for pre-marital counseling classes. Ugh. She hoped the pastor would tell Michael and Mom they’d made a mistake and that they were incompatible.

  It was all too depressing to think about, so Jennie grabbed a book and headed for the pool. She’d only read two chapters when Scott tossed his towel down on the lounge chair next to her, walked to the side of the pool, and dove into the water as if demons were chasing him. Maybe they were. The memory of the phone call she’d overheard came flooding back.

  After swimming a couple of laps, he hoisted himself out of the pool and approached her.

  “I came to say goodbye,” he announced.

  “What? But why?” Jennie stared up at him.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Scott sat on the lounge chair next to her. “You heard Ken. He thinks maybe Delilah got

  some bad fish.”

  “So?”

  “So that’s what happened to the dolphin at Playland. And they blamed me. It’s happening all over again. And once they get a look at my arrest record, I’m finished.”

  “Well, did you do it?”

  “What do you think?” He looked hurt that she’d even asked.

  “I …” Jennie thought about the phone call. “I don’t know what to think. I overheard you on the phone earlier.”

  Scott frowned. “And you just assumed I was guilty?”

  “No. I tried to keep an open mind. I still am.”

  Scott leaned forward and toweled his hair. “I was talking to Melissa. Before we came up here, Melissa asked me to collect data that they might be able to use against the research center. I thought maybe one of them had done it.”

  “Had they?”

  Scott shook his head. “Melissa doesn’t think anyone with the DPA would go that far.” His shoulders slumped in frustration. “Look, Jennie, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt dolphins, or any marine life for that matter. I know it doesn’t look good, but you have to believe me.”

  “I do believe you,” Jennie said. And she did. Scott would never have hurt the dolphin deliberately.

  He smiled, but his eyes still looked a stormy-gray. “Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot. But I still think I better split.”

  “If you’re innocent, you don’t have anything to worry about. But if you run, you’ll look guilty. Besides, you can’t leave. We have a date, remember?”

  “Oh, I wasn’t planning on letting you get out of that.”

  He swung his legs onto the chair and leaned back. “You really want me to stay?”

  “Yes.”

  Scott didn’t respond. He lay on the lounge for several more minutes, then got up, said goodbye, and left. Jennie hoped he’d take her advice and stay at the research center. On the other hand, she could understand his wanting to get as far away as possible. Don’t worry about it, McGrady. Scott’s bright. He’ll make the right decision. He’ll stay.

  Jennie tried to read, but concern for Scott kept getting in the way. After about twenty minutes, she gave up and headed back to the cabin. Gram had finished working on the computer and was straightening up the living room. Jennie grabbed a dust rag and furniture polish and pitched in to help as she told Gram about her conversation with Scott and about the phone call she’d overheard earlier.

  “This doesn’t look good,” Gram said. “I can’t imagine Scott doing anything that might harm Delilah, but I’m not sure I have the same kind of faith in the DPA.”

  Jennie frowned. “Remember our last night in Key West? Scott called Melissa to tell her he was coming up north with us and wouldn’t be picketing Dolphin Playland. After the phone call, he acted like he was upset about something. I never told you about it, but when you went to bed, he got angry and left.”

  “Hmmm. That would make sense. From the
articles and materials I’ve read about the DPA, they’d like nothing better than to close down places like this. Melissa may have been using Scott to achieve that end. It’s hard to imagine that they would harm a dolphin, but …” Gram tossed the newspapers in a recycling bin and straightened. “I think maybe we’d better have another talk with Scott.”

  They spent the next hour looking for him, but no one had seen him since he’d gotten off work at two-thirty. When he didn’t show up for dinner that night, Jennie’s belief in Scott’s innocence began to melt. Face it, McGrady. You were wrong. The guy’s guilty, and you’re just too proud to admit it.

  13

  Jennie tried not to think about Scott, concentrating instead on her food, which turned out to be a bad idea. The “hamburger” she thought they were eating turned out to be a concoction of soybeans and vegetables. It didn’t taste too bad, as long as she used plenty of lettuce, tomatoes, onions, mayo, and ketchup—and if she kept her mind off what she was eating.

  Fortunately, the Laytons and Sarah arrived, and Jennie was able to push Scott and the phony meat out of her mind. Maggie and Carl settled Sarah between them. When Jennie and Gram asked about Sarah, Carl reassured them. “She got a little cut on her arm, probably from the fence, but other than that she’s fine.”

  “Speaking of cuts,” Debbie said, “that’s a nasty one on your arm. What happened?”

  Carl seemed surprised, then rotated his arm so he could see the cut and frowned. A four-inch long, blood-caked gash ran from his elbow to about the middle of his forearm. “Must have scratched it while I was unpacking the rental car. Doesn’t look too serious,” he added. “A little soap and water ought to take care of it.” He shook his head and grinned. “Talk about the absentminded professor. I didn’t even realize it was there.”

  “You’d better come over to the office after dinner,” Ken said. “We have a first-aid station there. I’d like to take a look at it—clean it up and make sure it doesn’t need a stitch or two.”

  Carl nodded, then asked Debbie how she got started with dolphin therapy. From then on, with all their psychological jargon, they might as well have been speaking Swahili. Jennie switched her attention to Gram and Maggie, who were discussing writing, Gram’s favorite topic.

  She waited for a break in the conversation and asked a question that had been on her mind since the Laytons had arrived. “Where is Tim?”

  Maggie flushed and shifted in her chair. “He’s staying in town. He dropped us off here and left, probably too ashamed to face everyone after all the awful things he said.”

  “Do you think he’ll really try to close down the center?”

  It was Carl, not Maggie, who answered Jennie’s question. “Not if we have anything to say about it.” He wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “And we’ll even continue Sarah’s therapy. Naturally I’m concerned about what happened today, but after hearing about the success this program has had, we’d like to give Debbie more time.”

  When they’d finished dinner, Carl surprised Jennie by asking her if she’d like to take Sarah for a walk.

  “But …”Jennie began.

  “It’s all right.” Carl lightly touched her shoulder, his kind blue eyes meeting hers. “Maggie told me about Tim’s rampage. I’ve assured both him and Maggie that interacting with others, especially young people, is exactly what Sarah needs. Go ahead.”

  Jennie took Sarah’s hand and led her out of the dining hall, taking the same path she and Scott had taken the night before. “It’s safe to talk now,” Jennie said as she dropped to the ground. “No one can hear.”

  Sarah didn’t answer, and Jennie wondered if the incident with Delilah had set her back. Jennie pulled off her sandals and wiggled her feet in the fine white grains.

  “Thanks for not telling,” Sarah said.

  “I told you I wouldn’t.”

  “I know …” Sarah glanced behind them.

  “Why are you pretending? Don’t you think you should at least tell your mom?”

  “I can’t. I can’t tell anyone.”

  “Why not?”

  “I know who killed my father.”

  “Then you need to tell the police.”

  “It’s not that easy.” Sarah pointed to her head. “It’s all in here, but I can’t find it. I get these nightmares and flashbacks. I remember being there when Dad was killed. I didn’t see who did it, but … maybe I’d better start over.” Sarah folded her arms and rubbed them as though she were cold. “A few months ago I woke up in the middle of the night, and I’d come back.”

  “Come back?”

  “I know that sounds strange, but after Dad got killed, I felt like I was floating through a long tunnel.”

  “Your mom said you were sick for a long time.”

  Sarah nodded. “It was like being alive and dead all at the same time. Anyway, one night I woke up and I was alive—at least part of me was.”

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “I’m not sure I do either. Sometimes it’s like I’m two different people. There’s me, Sarah, a fourteen-year-old, who’s working like crazy to make everyone believe I’m still sick, and trying to remember who shot my father before …” Sarah shuddered, “… before the killer figures out I’m faking it and kills me too. Then, there’s the girl in my flashbacks.”

  “Wait a minute. What’s all this flashback stuff? You sound like a psychiatrist.”

  Sarah shrugged. “You don’t spend fourteen years around psychiatrists and not learn something. Besides, when I came back, I started reading Dad’s books. Mom and Carl think it’s an object-relations thing—that I need to have something of Dad’s close to me—but I’ve been trying to figure out how to unlock little Sarah so she can tell me what happened.”

  “Little Sarah?” You are dealing with a certified nut case, McGrady. Jennie leaned back to study the girl.

  “That’s what I call the girl in my memory.” Sarah glanced at Jennie and flinched. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m not crazy. I know she’s me. It’s just easier to handle the flashbacks if I give her a name and keep her separate—at least for now.

  “I first saw her that night, when I came back. I started to call to my mother and Carl, but something inside me panicked. A picture flashed through my mind. It was real, but it wasn’t—kind of like a movie. Anyway, I closed my eyes, but the picture wouldn’t go away. The girl was sitting in Daddy’s chair writing a note. The pencil fell, and she crawled under the desk to get it. Then she heard an explosion, and everything turned red, then black. I could still see little Sarah, hiding under my father’s desk, crying. She kept saying, ‘No. Don’t tell. You must never tell.’ Little Sarah knows everything. She knows who killed my father.”

  Jennie had absolutely no experience in dealing with mental cases and had no intention of starting now. “I think we should talk to my grandmother.”

  “No.” Sarah grabbed Jennie’s arm. “Please. You said you wanted to help me. I need to remember who killed my dad.”

  “What about this Ramsey guy?”

  “Ramsey didn’t kill my father.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I was there. I just know. It was someone else …” Jennie heard a rustling noise in the shrubs behind them. “Shh …listen.” The sound, whatever it was, had stopped. “Probably just an animal,” Jennie whispered.

  The noise had frightened Sarah back into her silent world. Having Sarah switch back and forth like that was spooky. Jennie had seen a couple of movies about people with multiple personality disorders. Could that be what had happened to Sarah? If so, could she believe anything the girl said?

  “I’m going to take you back now,” Jennie said as she stood and offered Sarah a hand up. “I know I promised I wouldn’t tell, but you need more help than I can give you. I’m going to tell Gram. You can trust her. It will be all right, Sarah. It rea
lly will.”

  Jennie took Sarah back to the compound and handed her over to Carl, who was just coming to find them. “I appreciate your willingness to sit with Sarah,” he said. “Not many young people would. It’s difficult to carry on a one-sided conversation.”

  “It’s no trouble,” Jennie said. “Maybe someday she’ll start talking back.”

  “That’s what we’re hoping.” Carl took Sarah’s hand and started up the path. “Oh, by the way, your grandmother said to tell you she’d be back in about an hour. She and Maggie went over to Sanibel to pick up a few things.’’

  It took all the strength Jennie had not to run after Carl. Sarah is talking, she wanted to shout. Only she’s saying the strangest things and I’m scared and I think you ought to take her to a shrink. That part was strange too, Jennie realized. Sarah was seeing a shrink—three of them, in fact. Between Debbie, Carl, and Sarah’s regular therapist, they should have been able to see what was going on. Shouldn’t they?

  The one thing Jennie knew for certain was that she had to tell Gram about Sarah. Gram would know what to do. While she waited for Gram to return, Jennie wandered into the dining hall, shot a little pool, then wound around the paths and went back out on the beach behind the cabins. Just killing time, she told herself. Liar, her pesky conscience argued. You’re looking for Scott. Jennie picked up a rock and flung it as hard as she could. Great shot, McGrady. It thumped into the sand about five feet away. She gave the rock a disgusted look, picked the thing up, and threw it again. This time it sailed an acceptable distance and disappeared into the water.

  Nearly an hour had passed since she’d talked to Carl, so Jennie made her way back to the cabin to wait for Gram. She’d just opened the patio door when the phone inside the room rang. Jennie hurried over to answer it.

  “Oh, hi, Gram. What’s going on?”

  “We’re running a little late and I didn’t want you to worry.”

  Jennie could hardly hear her over the music playing in the background. “Where are you?”

  Gram laughed. “Would you believe there’s an art fair in town? Turns out that Maggie loves these as much as I do.”