Abandoned

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “Do you believe Gavin, Jennie?” Lisa asked. “I mean, who else could have done it? He’s usually the first one in the journalism room in the morning and the last one to leave in the afternoon. Mrs. Andrews keeps it locked. He’s the only student with a key.”

  “Yes, but he’s in and out.” Jennie tossed her bag into the backseat and eased her long, slender frame behind the wheel. “Mr. Schultz has a key.”

  Lisa gave her an odd look. “You suspect the janitor?”

  “No, of course not. I’m just thinking about possibilities. But he might have let someone in.” She pursed her lips. “If I wanted to get into the journalism room, how would I do it? I could get hold of one of the keys and have a duplicate made. Or I could hide in the journalism room before Mrs. Andrews locked up for the night. It would be easy enough to do.”

  “There are also heating vents. Whoever did it could have gotten into the ducts in another room and crawled over, then dropped down out of the vent.”

  “Hmm. Not my choice, but it is possible. Maybe Gavin can shed some light on it. We know he was at the swim meet Thursday after school. Did he run the results of the meet?”

  Lisa flipped to the back of the paper. “Yep. Here’s your picture and Russ’.”

  Jennie wrinkled her nose. “It’s a ‘photo.’ I wish he wouldn’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Lisa giggled. “You look cute with goggles on.”

  Jennie glanced at Lisa. “Don’t tell me—not the goggles.”

  Lisa held the paper up so Jennie could see it.

  Jennie groaned. “I’m going to kill him.” Jennie’s anger abated. It’s just the sports page, she told herself. And appearing in the paper looking like an alien was not nearly as bad as what happened to Annie and the others.

  They pulled into Annie’s driveway fifteen minutes later. A police car sat at the curb. The front door of the house was open, and a police officer stood just inside. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Doesn’t look like she’s in the neighborhood. Do you have a list of her friends? People she might have called or gone to visit?”

  “Yes” came a tearful response.

  The police officer apparently heard Jennie and Lisa approach and turned around to face them. A look of recognition, then surprise lit his blue eyes.

  Jennie’s stomach tightened. Her heart skipped. “Rocky! Um … hi.” Her first impulse had been to hug him, but she didn’t. He didn’t look at all like he’d welcome that kind of familiarity.

  He nodded. “Why am I not surprised to see you two here? I take it you’re friends of Annie’s?” Rocky, a.k.a. Dean Rockwell, had been involved in several investigations in which Jennie had played a part. He didn’t welcome her help, and she didn’t appreciate his macho attitude, but they’d developed a friendship of sorts over the course of the summer.

  “We go to the same school.”

  He looked at her a moment, then said, “What do you know about this?”

  Jennie shrugged. “Not much.”

  Mrs. Phillips opened the door wider. “Oh, Jennie. I just spoke to your mother on the phone. Thanks for coming. I’m trying to make a list of Annie’s friends—maybe you and Lisa can help.”

  Rocky stepped aside and let them in.

  The house was elegant—like the kind you’d find on the Street of Dreams. It had vaulted ceilings and a large flagstone entry. A rock planter and waterfall graced one side, and a wide, curved stairway led to the second floor. Jeanette Phillips led them to the dining room table, where she sat down in front of a yellow legal pad on which she’d written some names.

  “We’re so sorry, Mrs. Phillips,” Lisa said.

  “I’m sorry too. I can’t believe Annie would run away like that.”

  “She ran away?” Jennie asked.

  “She must have. I’ve never seen her so upset. We tried to reason with her, but she was terribly angry.”

  “Gavin says he’s sorry the story about Annie’s adoption got into the paper. He wanted you to know that he didn’t write it and is trying to find out who did.”

  “I’d like to know who’s responsible and why they would dig up this information after all these years. I don’t blame Gavin, though. It’s my fault for keeping it a secret. Paul wanted to tell her she was adopted, but the time was never right.” She rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms. “Now it may be too late.”

  “When did she leave?” Jennie asked.

  “Last night. She was with Shawn and … I thought she’d cool off and come back, but she was gone all night.”

  Jennie sat in the chair next to Lisa and across from Mrs. Phillips. “Have you called Shawn?”

  “Yes—this morning. I didn’t talk to him directly. His mother told me that he’d gotten home a few minutes after eleven. He told them how upset Annie had been. I guess he talked to her for quite some time. She seemed to have things pretty well together when he dropped her off.”

  “So she came back here, then left again?” Jennie tossed Lisa a worried look.

  “I guess so. According to Emily—Mrs. Conners, Shawn dropped Annie off here at eleven. But she never came inside. I never saw her.”

  “Where is Shawn now?” Jennie wondered why Rocky hadn’t stopped her from asking all those questions. He’d undoubtedly heard the story before. Maybe he thought Mrs. Phillips would remember something else if she went over it again.

  “He and his father have gone fishing up near Mount St. Helens. Emily says there’s no way to contact them—unless they call her from a pay phone.”

  Lisa grabbed Jennie’s arm. “Maybe Annie didn’t run away after all. Maybe someone was watching and took her after Shawn dropped her off.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.” Jennie blew out a long breath and glanced at Rocky, who was still standing by the table. “You might want to sit down,” she said. “There’s something you should know.”

  6

  Rocky pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and sat down next to Jennie. “Okay, what have you got?”

  “Mrs. Phillips,” Jennie began, “did Annie say anything to you about someone following her?”

  She shook her head and rubbed her forehead. “No. Are you saying … ?” Her panicky gaze swung from Jennie to Rocky, then back again. “If you don’t think she ran away, then … what? You think she was taken—kidnapped?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a possibility. Thursday afternoon she stopped me in the hall at school and told me she needed to talk. She was afraid someone was stalking her.”

  Jennie glanced at Rocky. “I asked her if she’d talked to the police or her parents, and she said she hadn’t because she didn’t have any proof. She said she’d feel stupid saying something, then being wrong. So after school yesterday, Lisa and I watched her and Shawn leave the school. A beige-colored Caddy came off a side street and followed them for a few blocks, then turned off. I’m thinking maybe she noticed that Lisa and I were behind her. We got the license plate number.”

  “I’d like to see it.” Rocky held out his hand.

  “Um …” Jennie stared at his open palm, then shifted her gaze to his sky-blue eyes. “I don’t have it, and I can’t remember what it is. I gave it to my dad and asked him to check it out for me.”

  “So you told your father about the possibility of Annie being followed?”

  “Yes. It isn’t much—I mean, the lady may not have been following her at all.”

  Rocky pulled his hand back and nodded. “Good. It may be nothing, but it’s worth looking into.”

  He turned to Mrs. Phillips. “Do you remember seeing a vehicle like the one Jennie described around here?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “There’s something else.” Jennie licked her lips. Rocky’s penetrating gaze always made her feel nervous. “She mentioned seeing a teal blue van a lot. We saw one Thursday on the way to the meet.” She explained what had hap
pened. “That van turned out to be Debra Noble’s.”

  “The woman on the 22 News?” Rocky gave her a patronizing smile. “You’re saying Debra Noble was following you?”

  “No. She was at Trinity for the meet. She interviewed some of the kids.” Jennie frowned. “Raked my dad over the coals because he was watching me instead of tracking down that serial killer.”

  “Ah yes, I heard about that.”

  “You can’t blame him for getting upset with her.”

  “Listen, if it had been me, I doubt I’d have handled it with that much diplomacy.” He glanced down at his notes. “This van—what was your point?”

  “I just mentioned it because … well, even though Debra wasn’t following Annie, someone else with that color van could have been.”

  Rocky shifted his gaze to Mrs. Phillips. “Do you remember seeing either of the vehicles Jennie described around here?”

  “No. But I’m often not here when Annie gets home from school. I work part time at the Book End. It’s a new and used store downtown …” Her voice faded.

  “I’d like that list now, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Phillips handed it to him. Rocky passed it to Jennie and Lisa. “Can you girls think of anyone I should add?”

  They couldn’t.

  “I’ll be going, then.” Rocky pushed back his chair and gave Mrs. Phillips a business card. “Give me a call if you hear anything.

  With any luck at all, your daughter will come home on her own. She may have decided to spend the night at a friend’s house.”

  “I hope so. I’ve called most of her closest friends. They haven’t seen her. I just wish there were something more I could do.”

  “I suggest you stay here in case she comes back. There’s a good chance she will, but we’ll continue to canvass the neighborhood and let the rest of the departments know she’s missing.”

  The moment he stepped outside, Jennie and Lisa stood. “We need to be going, too, Mrs. Phillips,” Jennie said. “We just wanted to let you know that we’re going to try to find Annie.”

  “Jeanette, do you want me to—” A woman with silver white hair came down the wide, circular stairs. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

  “Mother, these are Annie’s friends—Jennie McGrady and Lisa Calhoun. Girls, this is my mother, Nora Ellison.”

  The girls greeted the older woman, glad Annie’s mother had someone to be with her during her ordeal. The name Ellison sounded familiar, but Jennie couldn’t place it. Heading back to the car, Jennie waved at Rocky, who was sitting in his patrol car and talking on his radio.

  He leaned out the window and motioned for her to come over. “Go ahead and get in my car,” Jennie said to Lisa. “He probably wants to lecture me about being careful.”

  “Or maybe he wants to ask you out.”

  Jennie rolled her eyes. “Get real, Lisa. He’s old enough to be my … older brother.”

  Jennie sighed as she approached the driver’s side of Rocky’s vehicle. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Really?” He raised an eyebrow in a teasing manner. “For what?”

  She folded her arms. “For you to tell me to mind my own business.”

  He tossed her that killer smile of his. “I don’t need to do that anymore. At least I hope not. I wanted to thank you for the information and get your take on this business with Annie. Do you think she ran off, or do you really think she may be in danger?”

  Jennie suppressed a wide grin. She loved it when adults took her seriously. She just wished she could give him an intelligent response. “I wish I knew. I wouldn’t have pegged Annie as the type to run away. On the other hand, hearing that you were adopted and that your real mom threw you away … If that happened to me, I might run away too.”

  “Somehow I doubt that. What about the woman you thought was following her?”

  “I’m sure she was. I caught a glimpse of her face in the rear-view mirror at a stoplight and had the feeling she might have recognized me. She was wearing sunglasses, but still …” Jennie bit her lip. “I think we scared her off.”

  “I’ll check it out. In the meantime, try to stay out of trouble.”

  Jennie smiled. “I thought you weren’t going to lecture me.”

  “Couldn’t resist.”

  Jennie caught her lower lip between her teeth again. “Did Mrs. Phillips tell you about the article in the school paper that got Annie so upset?”

  “Yeah—tough way to learn you’re adopted.”

  “Everyone’s blaming Gavin Winslow for writing that article, but he didn’t do it.”

  “Right now I’m not too concerned with who wrote it, but I am worried about Annie’s reaction and her whereabouts. If she did run away—or even if she was abducted—there’s not much chance of finding her. Speaking of which, I’m surprised you haven’t been out looking for her.”

  “I figure we can help more by finding out who wrote the article. There might be a connection. Maybe the person who wrote it is the same one who’s been following her. It’s possible that same person abducted her—I mean, if that’s what happened. On the other hand, it could be a nasty prank.”

  “If you come up with any answers, let me know.”

  Jennie backed away from the car and promised to call him if she uncovered any new information. He didn’t seem at all interested in Gavin’s possible guilt or innocence. His primary concern was finding Annie. Hers was, too, but she planned to go about it in a different way.

  Clackamas Town Center was packed with its usual crowd of Saturday shoppers and mall walkers. Jennie and Lisa hurried to the food court. Gavin was waiting alone at one of the tables that overlooked the ice-skating rink.

  “Hi.” Jennie sank onto the plastic seat. “What happened to Allison and B.J.?”

  “They couldn’t come.” He made a face. “Mr. Beaumont is afraid someone is targeting Allison again.”

  “Because of what happened to Annie?” Lisa asked.

  “I guess I can see why he’d be worried,” Jennie said. “They almost lost her the last time.”

  “That’s true,” Lisa added, “but anyone can see that Annie is the real target here.”

  “What makes you say that?” Gavin rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “The article pretty much trashed everyone. Annie just took it harder than anyone else.”

  Jennie told him about Annie’s suspicions of being followed and about the discussion they’d had with Annie’s mother and Rocky.

  “So she came back and left again?” Gavin asked.

  “That’s what has me worried,” Jennie went on. “According to Annie’s mom, she was with Shawn last night. He dropped her off around eleven, but she didn’t go inside. I’d like to talk to Shawn—find out exactly what happened. Something about this doesn’t sound right. Shawn may be lying about dropping her off.”

  “I don’t think Shawn would do that,” Lisa said. “He’s a sweet guy and really cares about Annie.”

  “Could she have asked him to drop her off somewhere and not tell her parents?”

  Lisa’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “He might. But I don’t think he’d let Annie’s parents worry like that, do you?”

  “I guess there’s only one way to find out.” Jennie drew a pad and pen out of her backpack and wrote, Contact Shawn.

  “Good luck,” Gavin said. “If he’s gone camping, he probably won’t be back in town until tomorrow night.”

  “You may be right.” She circled the words she’d written. “So we work with what we have.” On a new sheet of paper she began listing the events so far.

  Annie thinks someone may be stalking her. (Suspect may be driving a teal van or beige Cadillac.)

  Someone breaks into journalism room—edits Gavin’s article.

  Annie finds out she’s adopted. Runs away from home or was t
aken.

  “Annie said she hadn’t gotten any threats or hate mail.” Jennie tapped her pen on the table. “This article may be a form of that.”

  “With my name on it.” Gavin groaned. “I’m dead.”

  “I wonder why they used your name.” Jennie opened her bag and pulled out her wallet. The food smells were getting to her, and she hadn’t had time to eat lunch yet.

  “I wrote the original article. My by-line was already there, but everything I said about them was positive. I wanted all the girls to have an equal chance. The article was all ready to go Thursday afternoon. Someone came in during the night and rewrote it.”

  “I don’t understand why you didn’t catch it before it went out. Tell me about the paper. How was it possible for someone to change your article?”

  “It’s all laid out in the computer. Mrs. Andrews and I had already edited it—all except the last page, where I planned to put the information about the swim meet and put it to bed.”

  “Wait a minute.” Lisa raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘put it to bed’?”

  “It’s newspaper slang. Means it’s ready to go. Once I finished the article, I checked the spacing on that page, and it was supposed to be all set. Then all we have to do when we come in on Friday is run it off, fold it, and give it to Mrs. Talbot to distribute to the students.” He sighed and slouched down in the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “I didn’t know about the article until school was out on Friday and people started reading it.”

  “So who rewrote it and why?” Jennie mused. “How did they get in to the journalism room? And when?”

  7

  “First,” Jennie said before Gavin and Lisa could answer, “I need some brain food.” Jennie stood up. “I’m going to get an energy juice drink. You guys want anything?”

  “A lemonade,” Lisa requested.

  “I’m fine.” Gavin took a sip of whatever he was drinking. “Just hurry. We need to get to the bottom of this.”

  Jennie got a tropical energy booster drink and a pink lemonade, grabbed a couple of straws and napkins, then made her way back to the table.