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Abandoned

Page 16

by Patricia H. Rushford


  “Please don’t arrest him.” Claire turned to Jennie. “We have six children and … an arrest could cost him his job.”

  Jennie rubbed her injured hip.

  “The man’s a menace,” Ellen said. “He should be in jail.”

  “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” One of the other women set her picket sign down. “Well, Miss Pro-choice, you can put us in jail, but that won’t stop us. Nothing will stop us until you put an end to this senseless killing.”

  “That’s enough,” the officer barked. Turning back to Jennie, he asked her name.

  She gave it and told him what had happened. “All I wanted to do was tell him to back off a little. I could be wrong, but it seems to me that gentleness would work a lot better for them than intimidation.”

  Jennie looked at the red spot forming on her arm. It was the same one she’d broken a few months earlier. She hoped he hadn’t rebroken it.

  “Do you want to press charges?” the officer asked.

  A moment ago she’d have cheerfully told the officer to throw the book at him. But that was before she heard about the children. He’s a menace, part of her insisted. Another said, He’s misguided. He needs help. She’d seen the way he’d pushed his wife away in anger. Did he abuse her in other ways as well?

  “I guess I provoked him,” she told the officer. “It was partially my fault. I shouldn’t have confronted him. On the other hand, he shouldn’t have hit me.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “Yeah, I want to press charges.”

  While she watched the arrest process, Jennie wanted to take it back. She couldn’t look at Adam or his wife. You’re doing the right thing, she told herself.

  Ellen expressed those thoughts aloud.

  “I hope so,” Jennie mumbled.

  “Of course you are. We can’t let these people get away with violence. We have to fight for our rights.”

  Jennie turned an annoyed gaze at her. “You think I did this to help your cause?”

  “Of course. We all need to stand up against fundamentalists like this who want to take away our right to choose.”

  “I’m pro-life.” Jennie watched Ellen’s face transform from ally to enemy.

  “Then why—”

  “Violence is wrong, no matter who does it. I’m not having Adam arrested because he’s pro-life or because he hit me. I’m hoping that through it he’ll get the help he needs to deal with his temper. Adam has a right to protest. I just don’t agree with his tactics.”

  Jennie looked around at the protesters who’d gone silent. She looked at the weeping wife and the angry Adam. Her gaze came back to Ellen, who obviously felt betrayed. In the past few minutes she’d alienated all of them. “Thanks again for the information,” Jennie said to Ellen.

  She spoke briefly to the police officer and agreed to go down to the station to file a formal complaint later that day. Walking back to her car, Jennie wondered when she’d have time. It was almost one, and she still wanted to see Rocky and do some homework before swimming. But she also wanted to pay a visit to the woman Ellen said might have known Noreen. No doubt about it, her life was getting far too complicated.

  Jennie drove away from the clinic feeling as though she’d engaged in a major battle. She had confronted people in the past, but this was the first time she’d been so brazen about it. Well, maybe not. She remembered confronting the neo-Nazis who claimed to be Christians yet hated people whose skin color didn’t match theirs.

  Still, she couldn’t help wondering if she’d gone too far in confronting the pro-life group. She probably shouldn’t have gone to the clinic in the first place. Embarrassment coursed through her now as she thought about what she’d done. She gripped the steering wheel to keep her hands from shaking, but the move did little to stop the butterflies flitting around in her stomach.

  She wondered what Mom and Dad would say. More important, she wondered what Gram would have done. Jennie imagined her saying, “You did the right thing, darling.”

  Had she really? Jennie felt good about getting the phone number from Ellen. A sense of uneasiness wrapped itself around her. Suppose Ellen had called the name on the card and told her Jennie was the enemy. Suppose the woman refused to talk to her. Jennie made a right at the next block into a service station and stopped in front of a phone booth.

  She dug into her pocket for the card, deposited money into the pay phone, and dialed the number. The line was busy. Just as well. A face-to-face visit would be better anyway—especially if Ellen had called to warn her. Jennie flipped through the pages of the phone book. Lucy Bennett lived in Oregon City. Not far from where she was. She could easily stop there before going to the hospital.

  Lucy Bennett’s place was swarming with cops. An ambulance stood with its doors open while two EMTs placed a shrouded body inside.

  22

  Jennie’s insides collapsed. At least that’s what it felt like. Pull yourself together, McGrady. It might not even be her. “It is,” she said aloud. “I know it is.” Noreen and Lucy had worked in the same clinic. Jennie backed off on her runaway thoughts. Noreen hadn’t worked there for sixteen years. It was too soon to make that kind of an assumption.

  She found a parking spot a block away and walked back.

  The officer apparently assigned to keep people away from the crime scene had his back to her and was occupied with a group of reporters. Jennie cut through the lawn and went up the stairs. A strong hand grasped her arm from behind. “Sorry, miss, you can’t go in there.”

  Jennie swung around. “I have to talk to the investigating officer. I’m Jennie McGrady and—”

  Recognition lit his brown eyes. “Detective McGrady’s kid?”

  “Yeah. I’d like to see him.”

  Hands on hips, he maneuvered himself around to bar her way inside. “He isn’t here.”

  “Maybe he should be. Lucy—”

  “Lucy?”

  “Yes—the woman who lives here.”

  “You know the victim?”

  So it was her. “N-no … not exactly. How did she die? Was she murdered?”

  “Don’t think so, but it’s too soon to tell. The medical examiner says it looks like a drug overdose.”

  Jennie brushed her bangs aside. “Somehow I don’t think it’s as simple as that.”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “Sounds like you know something. Maybe you’d better talk to Detective Mallory.”

  The detective came outside when Officer Dunn called him. After introducing her, he told Mallory that Jennie had come to visit the deceased.

  Mallory, of course, wanted to know the entire story. Jennie obliged by first telling him about the connection she’d found between Noreen and Lucy. “Doesn’t it seem strange to you that Noreen and Lucy used to work in the Marsh Street Clinic and now both of them are dead and the clinic’s been bombed?”

  Mallory frowned. “That’s very interesting. I’ll take your concerns under consideration. If it looks like they might be related, I’ll talk to your dad. Speaking of which, I doubt he’ll be too happy with you missing school to play detective.”

  “I’m part homeschooled and don’t have classes today.” She sighed, knowing she’d just hit another wall. There was no way she’d be able to get into Lucy’s home or find out anything about what went on in the Marsh Street Clinic sixteen years ago. She was back to square one. She doubted Ellen would help her find someone else who might have worked there. “I don’t suppose I could go in and look around?”

  “Sorry. Look, Jennie, your dad told me you wanted to be a detective. But you’re not one yet, and until you are—”

  “I know. It’s none of my business.” Jennie peered inside the small cottage. “You’ll talk to my dad about this?”

  “I will.” His gray gaze met hers head on. He wasn’t angry, Jennie noticed, just concerned. “I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but it bear
s saying again. We do a pretty good job of catching criminals and solving crimes. I think we can manage this one without you as well.” His expression sobered even more. “I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

  “I’m not in any danger.”

  “Yes, you are. Think about it. If this Bennett woman was murdered, as you seem to think, it happened within the hour. If you’d come any sooner than you did, you may have been met by a killer instead of a cop.”

  Jennie swallowed hard. His comment smacked her between the eyes with the force of a two-by-four.

  “Go back home, Jennie. Leave the investigating to the professionals.”

  Jennie mumbled something incoherent and jogged back to her car. She didn’t want to think about Mallory’s warnings, but they came back at her full force. If she’d come straight from the clinic instead of confronting the protesters, she might have come face-to-face with the person who killed Lucy and maybe Noreen—and who’d injured Rocky in his attempt to kill Debra. And who may have bombed the Marsh Street Clinic.

  Jennie sucked in a deep breath. The crimes all had to be related. What she couldn’t understand was how Debra fit into it. Someone was definitely out to get her. For the moment she was safe. Debra had the benefit of a police escort. They’d be even more wary now. Jennie doubted the killer would go after her again.

  Did the killings and attempted murder have anything to do with Annie? Don’t forget about yourself, McGrady. Suppose the killer finds out you’ve been asking questions. You could be in danger too. Jennie canceled the thought and drove straight to the hospital. Nothing was connecting as it should, and at the moment she had more important things to think about.

  Rocky was asleep, but the nurse had told her his condition had been upgraded to good during the night. Jennie decided to sit with him for a few minutes, hoping he’d wake up while she was there. Opening her backpack, she pulled out a lined pad and began writing down the events of the last few days and her observations. She began a list of suspects but found it hard to come up with anyone viable. The man allegedly responsible for the first two pro-life murders was in jail. Charity had admitted to breaking into the journalism room and rewriting Gavin’s article. While Charity had been cruel and hurtful, Jennie couldn’t see her as a murderer.

  Jennie wrote down Debra Noble under the suspect list and tapped her pen against the pad. She shook her head. Debra did not shoot at herself. She hurriedly scribbled down the names of people connected with Annie and Debra. Dr. and Mrs. Phillips. Annie’s grandparents. The people Jennie had met at the station during her interview with Debra. She even wrote down Gladys, the woman who owned the store and the dumpster where Annie had been found. Gladys knew Noreen and may have known Lucy. Her store was near the Marsh Street Clinic. But, no, Gladys didn’t strike Jennie as the sort who’d go around bombing abortion clinics or killing people. What reason would she have?

  So far she was coming up with nothing. Why even bother, McGrady? You’re getting nowhere. You’re not a cop. You don’t have all the facts. You may as well give up.

  But she couldn’t. Something niggled at the back of her mind—something important, but she couldn’t quite reach it.

  “Hey, Jen.” Rocky’s blue gaze met hers. “What are you working on?”

  She smiled and tucked the pad away. No sense in upsetting him. And he would be upset. “Just making some notes. Nothing important.” She scooted closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  He closed his eyes. “Like I’ve been shot.”

  “Very funny. You must be feeling better.”

  “If you say so.” His eyes opened again. “So did they catch the shooter?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Rocky clicked a button. A machine attached to the IV pole beeped. “Modern medicine,” he said. “They let you give yourself your own pain meds these days.”

  “You must be hurting a lot, huh?”

  “Mmm.” His eyes drifted closed again. She watched the frown lines leave his forehead as the pain medication did its job.

  “I’d give anything to find the guy who did this to you,” Jennie murmured. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her things and left.

  Jennie still had a couple hours before she needed to be at swim practice. She might as well use the time to study. While stopped at a light three blocks from school, Jennie saw an old man in a tattered gray jacket pushing a grocery cart. She swallowed hard remembering the scene in front of the Channel 22 building the night before. She’d seen a vagrant then—an old man, bent and walking with a limp. Why hadn’t she put it together before now? The apartment from which the shot was fired had been rented by a crippled old man in a brown coat. The man she’d seen had a brown coat.

  The driver behind her honked. Jennie glanced up. The light was green. She made a left and managed to make it into the school’s parking lot before she started shaking. The old man who’d walked right by her and the police was the killer. Jennie knew it in her gut. She’d reacted to the strange look in his eyes. She’d seen fear in those eyes. Had it been a fear of being recognized? Why hadn’t she been more alert? Why hadn’t she made the connection sooner? He’d walked right by the crime scene and no one noticed. Had it been a disguise? Had she seen him before? Had he recognized her?

  Jennie hurried inside and made a beeline for the student phone near the mailboxes. She dialed home first, thinking Dad might still be there. Mom answered. “He left about five minutes ago, sweetheart. What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I just remembered something about last night.”

  “You should be able to get him on the cell phone.”

  Dad answered on the first ring. Jennie told him about the old man she’d seen. “Dad, I feel so bad. We could have had him.”

  “Not your fault, princess. Unfortunately, the guy’s disappeared into thin air. John Weed doesn’t exist. Phony name and address.”

  “If it helps, he has blue eyes—I think.”

  “Right—along with half the population.”

  “Maybe I can recognize him.”

  After a long pause, Dad said, “Where are you?”

  “At school.”

  “Good. I don’t want you going anywhere alone, do you hear me?”

  “Dad—”

  “Don’t argue with me, Jennie. If this guy recognized you—”

  “I’ll be careful.” A chill swept through her as she remembered his gaze focusing in on hers.

  “Good.”

  “Dad, have you talked to Detective Mallory?”

  “Mallory?”

  He hadn’t. Jennie filled him in on her visit to the abortion clinic and on Lucy’s death. “I think it’s all connected, Dad. I told him he should tell you.”

  Silence again. Jennie could almost see him running a hand down his face. “I don’t like this. You’re too close. No more snooping. No nothing. I don’t want you even thinking about this investigation.”

  “I was just trying to help Annie …”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you? Somehow you’ve gotten yourself entangled in the net this guy’s thrown out. I don’t know why or how, but I intend to find out. Now, in the meantime, you stay put. Go to swimming and head straight home. No buts.”

  “Okay. I was going to do that anyway.”

  After another mini-lecture, Jennie hung up and made her way to the library. There she forced her questions and concerns about Noreen, Lucy, Debra, and Annie from her mind and tried to focus on her studies.

  After school the questions surfaced again when Lisa came up to her in the mail room and told her Annie hadn’t been at school that day.

  “I’m worried, Jen. She seemed so fragile yesterday.”

  “I know. Maybe her parents wanted her to stay home.”

  “I called her at lunch, but no one answe
red.”

  “Her parents both work.” Jennie pulled the papers out of her box.

  “Hey, I was hoping to find you two here.” Gavin closed in on them. “Jennie, I need a ride to the pool.”

  “Sure, but why are you going there? We’re not having a meet or anything.”

  “Yeah, you are. It’s an exhibition meet with St. Mary’s.”

  Jennie groaned. “How’d I miss that? I’d better move it.”

  “What about Annie?” Lisa slammed her mailbox door shut.

  “What about her?” Gavin shoved his glasses back against his nose.

  “I’m worried. She seemed so depressed. And she didn’t come to school today.”

  “I think I know why.” Gavin opened his mailbox and pulled the contents out. “She and Shawn had another fight last night.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Yeah. Shawn is pretty bummed out about it. All he did was talk to Charity yesterday after school.”

  Jennie chewed on her lower lip. “Lisa, maybe you should just go by her house on your way home. Didn’t you drive today?”

  “No. Mom dropped me off. I was hoping you’d drive to her place before the meet.”

  “I can’t be late again or I’ll get kicked off the team.”

  Lisa brightened. “I have an idea. Why don’t you drop me off at home on the way to the pool. Hopefully I can borrow the car and go over there.”

  “I’m not sure you should go alone. There’s been another murder, and someone shot at Debra last night.”

  “Oh no. Is she okay?”

  “She is, but Rocky wasn’t so lucky.” Jennie filled them in on the latest news. “If I’m right and all this is connected, Annie could be in danger.”

  “Why don’t we go by Annie’s now?” Lisa said. “It’s on the way. We have enough time.”

  Jennie glanced at her watch. She still had forty minutes to get to the pool. “Okay, as long as we don’t have to stop anywhere else.”

  Driving into Annie’s neighborhood, the first thing Jennie noticed was the squad car sitting in the driveway beside a black Lincoln. A lump lodged itself in her throat. Could Annie have been the next victim?

 

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