“Yes. He wasn’t killed in the crash.” Jennie hesitated. So far the family hadn’t told anyone the details of her dad’s disappearance or that he’d been an undercover agent. Dad didn’t seem to think secrecy mattered that much anymore. Still … “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything about what I’m going to tell you.”
“I won’t.”
“Well, it was all an elaborate plan to make his enemies think he was dead. He needed to change his identity to protect him and us from drug dealers in South America. The thing is, I never once believed he was dead. Mom accused me of hanging on to a dream. Gloria said I needed to grieve and move on. They didn’t understand why I kept insisting he was alive, but I knew in my heart he was.”
“And you were right.”
“Yeah.” She gave Annie a tight smile. “I was so sure, I decided to try to find him. I almost got him and me killed in the process, but I found him.”
“Oh, Jennie, you do understand.” Annie tipped her head to one side. “How did you know I was in the dumpster?”
“I didn’t.” Jennie explained her mission and told her about the conversation she’d had with Gladys. She carefully avoided any mention of Debra Noble’s abortion because she didn’t want to get Annie’s hopes up. Just because Jennie had connected the two incidents in her head didn’t make them so. “Gladys doesn’t think the woman she saw that night could have just had a baby. If that’s true, then you’re right. Your mother didn’t put you in that trash bin. It was the lady with the tan coat and the white shoes.”
“White shoes,” Annie mused. “I don’t remember reading about that in any of the articles.”
“I didn’t either. Gladys says it may have been something she remembered later.”
Annie frowned. “Do you think that nurse, Noreen Smith, did it?”
“I don’t know—it could have been one of the other nurses working there. Or it may not have been a nurse at all.”
“But if she did put me in the trash bin, and if she worked at the clinic, then—” Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Jennie, then it’s worse than I thought. My mother aborted me—she wanted me dead.”
“No,” Jennie insisted. “You’re jumping to conclusions. We don’t know anything for sure.”
“You’re right.” Annie took a deep breath. “I need to stop worrying about it.”
Annie leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. Jennie chided herself for saying anything. She should have kept her mouth shut until she had more information. Annie felt bad enough thinking she’d been dumped and rescued.
By the time Annie had showered and changed into clean clothes, Jennie was already late for swim practice. Annie insisted she go to the pool and take her home later. Her parents wouldn’t be expecting her until after practice anyway.
“Haul your carcass in here, McGrady,” DeeDee yelled when Jennie walked through the door. “What do you think I’m running here—a tea party? Part of being an athlete is gaining a sense of responsibility. When you agreed to be on the team, you took on certain obligations. You can’t just waltz in any time you feel like it. The team is depending on you. There are rules. You did read the rules, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry. I—”
“Are you sick?”
“N-no.”
“Are you dying?”
“No.”
“Is someone in your family dying?”
“No … but—”
“Then I don’t want to hear about it. I’m going to tell you this once and once only. Being late is an infraction of the rules. If you’re late again, you are on the bench for the next meet. The next time, you’re off the team. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jennie pinched her lips together. She had done nothing wrong and wouldn’t have been late at all if she hadn’t stopped to help Annie. She didn’t like being yelled at and was tempted to quit right then and there. But she had made a commitment to the team and to Coach Dayton.
“Then go suit up.”
Jennie started to leave when Coach Dayton called her back. “You’ve never been in competitive sports before, have you, Jennie?”
“No.”
“It isn’t easy. I know you’re thinking right now that it would be easier to just quit. That you don’t need the hassle.” She picked up a pencil and tapped it against her hand. “I hope you won’t do that, Jennie. You’ve got talent, and I’d really like to see you stay in the sport.”
Jennie smiled. “I won’t quit.”
“Good girl. Now, go get ’em.”
For the next two hours, Jennie almost managed to put Annie and her troubles in a distant corner of her mind while concentrating on improving her swimming techniques. Heading home at six-fifteen, she felt dishrag limp and could hardly keep her eyes open.
“It’s too much for her,” Jennie heard her mother say. Mom’s voice sounded far away.
“I don’t think so.” That was Dad. “She’s still tired from my taking her with me the other night. I probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“There’s more to it than that. She’s not used to all this extra work with being on the swim team and my being pregnant. I just think it’s too much.”
“You think she should quit the team?”
“No … oh, I’m not sure, honey. What do you think?”
They were talking in lower tones now, and Jennie had to strain to hear them. She opened one eye. The room was dark. She’d fallen asleep again, only this time she hadn’t even eaten dinner first. Her stomach rumbled in protest. She’d taken her books upstairs and fallen on her bed and hadn’t moved since.
Should she let them know she was awake or play possum? The last thing Jennie needed this evening was a lecture on how she was trying to do too much. Mom had a point, but Jennie hated to admit it. Maybe she should let something go, but what? Certainly not her studies—though if she kept falling asleep instead of studying, her grades would soon plummet. She couldn’t give up swimming—she’d promised to stick it out. And how could she not help Annie? Jennie knew perfectly well the exhaustion she felt every night was from more than the physical exertion of swimming. She was emotionally drained as well, weary from thinking and getting nowhere. She stretched and yawned. “Mom? Dad? What are you doing in my room?”
“I thought I’d better get you up to eat something.” Mom moved closer to Jennie’s bed.
“I know—it’s the swimming. But don’t worry, I’ll get used to it.”
“I think we’d probably better have you work out a schedule. A nap after dinner isn’t a bad thing. Say, for twenty minutes—that’s supposed to do the most good. Then you can do your homework. I’d like to see you in bed by nine-thirty on school nights with lights out by ten. That will give you a half hour to relax and read.”
Jennie yawned and nodded. “Sounds okay to me.”
Mom looked surprised that she’d given in without an argument. “Good. I’ll dish up your dinner.”
She eased around Dad, giving him a tender kiss. “Do you want to eat your dessert while Jennie’s having her dinner?”
Dad grinned down at her and dusted her cheek with his finger. “Perfect, but only if you’ll join us.”
She batted his hand away. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Jennie’s heart did a little tumble like it always did when her mom and dad showed affection like that. She reveled in the fact that they still loved each other and had gotten back together. While Dad was missing, Mom had filed for a divorce so she could get on with her life. If Dad hadn’t come back when he had, Mom would have married another man. Michael Rhodes was a great guy, but … No. She wouldn’t think about that. It didn’t happen. Her parents were working out their differences and seemed happier now than they’d ever been.
Mom left and Dad started to follow.
“Dad?”
He turned back to her. “Yeah?”
“I need to talk to you about something.”
He came over and sat on her bed. “Shoot.”
“Can you get me a copy of some police files on a case that happened sixteen years ago and was never solved?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Police files are confidential, Jennie. You know that.”
“Yes, but I thought maybe if I came to your office, you could get it and …”
“What are you looking for?”
Jennie told him. “Um … Annie wants to find her birth mother.”
“And she wants you to help her?”
“Right.”
“Princess, I hate to disillusion you, but if the police couldn’t find her right after it happened, do you really believe you have a chance now?”
“I didn’t think so, but now I’m not so sure. I know the police thought Annie’s mother was the person who put Annie in that trash bin and called them.”
“But you don’t?”
Jennie eyed him warily, not sure if he really wanted her opinion on the case or not. She decided to give it to him anyway. “Well, today I went to the neighborhood where she was found.” Jennie squared her shoulders, half expecting him to yell at her.
He just stood there, waiting, arms folded. “Dad, it was the same store, and the lady there had seen a woman use the pay phone.”
When her father still didn’t comment, Jennie told him everything. “I need the police report to see if Gladys told them about the white shoes. I think it could be really important to the case. There might also be a connection with what’s happening right now. I mean, Noreen Smith is dead, and Debra Noble could have been. Debra had an abortion sixteen years ago. I can’t help but think—”
“Whoa.” Dad slipped an arm around Jennie’s shoulders. “That’s quite a jump. Even if this woman in the white shoes was Noreen Smith, and even if she did place Annie in that dumpster, to tie it in with Debra Noble is pretty farfetched.”
Jennie’s shoulders sagged. “I know. It’s just that Annie looks so much like Debra and …” She sighed. “But you’re right, I need to talk to Debra. Is she still here?”
“She’s at work. She called your mother a few minutes ago and said she’d be here around ten. I guess she’s staying here tonight, then will go to her apartment tomorrow.”
“She’s not alone, is she?”
Dad smiled. “No, princess, she’s not alone. We’ve assigned an officer to follow her from the office to our place.”
“Good. Anyone I know?”
“As a matter of fact, it is. Officer Rockwell has been assigned to her. She requested him.”
Jennie felt an odd twinge of jealousy and wasn’t sure why. “Can she do that?”
“She did. Appears she and the chief are good friends.”
“Jason? Jennie?” Mom called from downstairs. “Are you coming?”
“Be right there, hon,” Dad called.
“What about the file?” Jennie took his hand when he reached down to help her up.
“I’ll take a look at it. I guess it won’t hurt to tell you whether the white shoes got into the report. And you’re right. It could be a crucial piece of information. As is the fact that the Smith woman used to work at the Marsh Street Clinic. You may have something there, Jennie. I’ll see what I can find out tomorrow.”
Over dinner Jennie asked her dad about the suspect they’d arrested the night before.
“I feel sorry for the man,” Mom said. “With all he’s been through, it’s no wonder he snapped. Of course, murdering people isn’t the answer.”
“What happened to him?” Jennie sliced into a thick piece of roast beef.
“Apparently he’s had a lot of mental problems—” Dad took a sip of his coffee—“but he seemed to be doing okay until recently when his wife gave birth to a severely handicapped child. The baby died after a couple months, and his wife left him. They had no insurance, and he ended up $600,000 in debt.”
“So he just started killing people?” Jennie asked.
“Not exactly. In the early months of his wife’s pregnancy, her gynecologist told her there was a strong chance the baby would be handicapped and said she should consider an abortion. She went to a crisis pregnancy center, and they talked her out of it.”
“So he was out for revenge.”
“In the worst way. We found a list in his room that included twenty women who worked at the various crisis pregnancy centers in the area. He claims he killed only two of them. Debra Noble and Noreen Smith were on that list, but he insists he hadn’t gotten to them yet.”
“Do you believe him?”
Dad took a bite of his apple pie and nodded. After swallowing he said, “Yes, I do. Noreen was tenth on his list. Debra was near the bottom. Forensics tells me the first two notes were written by someone wearing cotton gloves. We found those in his apartment. The last two notes had no cotton fibers.”
“So there’s another killer out there.”
“I suspect so, which makes what you told me rather interesting. We’d been looking into the Smith woman’s history, but I had no idea she used to assist with abortions. You do good work, princess.”
Jennie’s heart swelled with a sense of pride.
Mom looked from one to the other. “Okay, you two. No fair keeping secrets from me. What have you been up to now, Jennie?”
Dad filled her in while Jennie ate.
Mom looked thoughtful. “How did you know about Debra’s abortion, Jennie?”
“She told me the other day, before my interview. See, I knew she’d been following Annie. She told Rocky she wasn’t, but I could tell she was lying. When I confronted her, she broke down and told me about the baby she’d lost.”
Mom sighed. “She told me about it too. Such a sad thing. I gave her the name of a woman who runs the support group at Trinity for women who have had abortions.”
“Mom, did Debra say how far along she was when she had the abortion?”
“No, she didn’t.”
Jennie sliced into a large piece of broccoli, cutting off a tiny piece and coating it with a scoop of mashed potatoes and gravy to cover the taste. Broccoli was not her favorite vegetable, and she usually managed a bite small enough to swallow without too much chewing. After washing it down with a swig of milk, she said, “I don’t suppose she said which clinic either.”
“I’m afraid not. Jennie,” Mom switched into her warning voice. “I think it would be best not to talk to her about it. If she brings it up, okay, but this is a very difficult time for her.”
“But what if she’s …”
Dad’s cell phone rang, and Jennie’s question died on her lips. The phone was reserved for police business and emergencies.
“McGrady here,” Dad answered. His frown deepened. He muttered something under his breath and pushed his chair back. “I’m on my way.” He folded the phone and put it back in the holder at his waist.
“What is it, Jason?” Mom asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Debra and Rocky have been shot.”
19
Jennie felt as though she’d been hit in the stomach with a cannonball. “Oh no. Are they … ?”
“They’re both alive, thank God. An ambulance is taking them to the hospital. I have to go.” Dad kissed them both and headed for the door.
Jennie wiped her mouth and tossed her napkin on the table. “I’m coming with you.”
“No!” Mom and Dad yelled at the same time.
“Please. Rocky’s my friend. And Debra doesn’t have anyone.”
Mom and Dad looked at each other with their what-are-we-going-to-do-with-her look. They were weakening.
“Please,” Jennie pleaded again.
“All right,” Mom said. “If it’s okay with your father.” To Dad she said, “She has a point. I’d go myself, but I don’t feel up to it.�
��
Dad caved. “Come on, then. But you’ll have to do exactly what I say.” To Susan he said, “We shouldn’t be gone much more than an hour—two at the most.”
Yes! Jennie grabbed a jacket from the hall closet and hurried out the door. Once in the car, she glanced at his stern, worried features. “They’re going to be okay, aren’t they?”
“I don’t know, Jennie. I really don’t know.”
She closed her eyes and asked God to take care of both Rocky and Debra. Dad drove downtown and pulled in behind two double-parked police cars. They’d barricaded off a section of the street in front of the Channel 22 building. The scene looked much like the one in front of Debra’s house last night.
Her father stepped out of the car. “Stay here, Jennie. I’m not sure what we’re walking into, and I don’t want you hurt.”
Jennie started to object, then thought better of it. If she expected to go with him like this, she’d need to be on her best behavior. Dad could have said no, and she really did want to see Rocky and Debra. She slumped down in the seat and watched a hunched old man limp past the car. His gaze caught hers briefly, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. He looked away and hurried past.
Jennie shivered and checked to make sure the doors were locked. Downtown Portland had its share of vagrants. Fortunately, this one seemed as frightened of her as she was of him. She shifted her attention to her father and rolled down the window a couple of inches so she could hear what was going on. Dad walked up to a uniformed officer and asked for a report.
“Witnesses said they heard one shot,” Jennie heard the officer say. “But both Ms. Noble and Officer Rockwell were injured. Rock took the brunt of it.”
Jennie gulped back a sob. Rocky had been seriously injured. Why couldn’t Dad hurry? She wanted to get to the hospital.
“Anyone see the shooter?” her father asked.
“Not as far as we can tell. Several people heard the shot, but no one claims to have seen anything. It appears to have come from one of the apartments across the street—maybe the roof. I sent a couple of officers over there to have a look.”
Dad nodded. “Who called it in?”
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