“That’s true.” The secretary smiled at Jake and fluffed her hair. “Why don’t you try the library?” Her smile suggested she’d like to get to know Jake better.
“The library?” Jake asked.
“Yes. The student yearbooks might be a good starting point.”
Cassidy and Jake walked across the pleasant campus as chattering students strolled and biked by. One student played Frisbee with his dog, some flew elaborate kites, and others pretended to study as they checked out the opposite sex.
The cool air of the library was a welcome relief after the midday heat. It didn’t take long to find the yearbook section. While Jake scanned the records, Cassidy did a little research of her own.
They needed to find someone who remembered Jake’s parents. Someone who could tell them if his parents had changed their names and why. Cassidy started with a list of professors, but found few teachers who had been at the university that long. She thought it highly unlikely that any of those professors would recall a student from so long ago, but considered the effort worth a try if they didn’t find anything else.
Next she tried old newspapers on microfiche. She searched under his parents’ names and the fake names, but found nothing. Cassidy still wasn’t about to give up. She’d check the records of every fraternity house on campus if she had to.
When she tried the name on the university diploma and found that Michael Scott had belonged to Pi Epsilon Lamda, excitement raced through her. Fraternities often kept track of their members, hitting them up for donations, arranging reunions. Maybe they’d have a record of Jake’s father’s address or some pictures.
Cassidy copied the information and hurried to Jake to show him what she’d found. A coed had taken the chair next to Jake and was helping him search the library material. While the pesky blonde sat close to him, Jake only had eyes for the information in the book before him.
When Cassidy appeared, the coed gave her the once-over, shrugged as if to say Jake could do better, then removed herself from the chair. “He’s all yours, honey. He’s got ‘taken’ written all over him.”
Uncomfortable with the girl’s remark, Cassidy moved the chair farther away from Jake before taking it. If Jake had heard the girl, he didn’t indicate it by so much of a flicker of an eyelash. His thoughts seemed far away, as if he was thinking about the past. Cassidy didn’t know whether to be flattered that he wasn’t interested in another woman or insulted that he didn’t appear to notice when she took the coed’s chair.
She wondered if Jake had never fallen in love due to lack of time. Of course, she didn’t know that he hadn’t fallen in love. But he’d never married. Maybe he couldn’t commit to a woman when the past and finding his sisters placed such a strain on his time. Whatever the reason, she was glad they had this opportunity to get to know one another again. She only wished the circumstances could have been more normal.
“What did you find?” she asked, keeping her news to herself for the moment.
“I found a picture of Mary Lou Ellis.” He pointed at a picture in the yearbook, then held up the picture of the woman she’d thought might have been his mother from the photo that she’d found in her father’s attic.
She used a pencil to scratch her scalp under the itchy wig. “They’re the same woman. Your mother did change her name.”
“Not necessarily.” Jake twisted his mustache. “We simply now know that the woman in both pictures went by the name of Mary Lou Ellis. We still don’t know if she’s my mother. And since I can’t recall my mother’s maiden name—”
“Not many five-year-old boys would.”
“—we may never know if Mary Lou is the same woman as Janet.”
Cassidy peered at the picture, sure she saw a resemblance between the woman and Jake. “Who’s the other woman? The one standing next to Mary Lou?”
He read the name under the picture. “Donna Rodale. Why?”
Something in the black-and-white photograph suggested a friendship between the two students. Maybe it was the expression in the eyes or the relaxed smiles, as if they’d been sharing a secret when the photograph was snapped. “I think we should look her up and see if she remembers Mary Lou Ellis.”
“Good idea.” Jake copied the picture and information. “Harrison can track her down.”
“Even if she’s married and changed her name?”
“Social-security numbers don’t change when you marry.”
Cassidy watched Jake close the old yearbook with reluctance. Clearly he wasn’t satisfied, and she hoped to perk him up. “I may have found something else.”
Jake leaned back in his chair and tugged on his mustache, his eyes glittering with mischief. “I knew I’d kept you around for a reason.”
She warmed inside when Jake teased her and was all the happier to have made herself useful. “Michael Scott belonged to a fraternity.”
“And?” Jake didn’t seem overly excited.
“They keep records.”
“They do?”
“They send the names to national registries.”
“So?” Jake folded his arms over his chest.
She wanted to shake him out of his complacency. But then she recalled that Jake hadn’t had the opportunity to attend college. He wasn’t familiar with why her find could be important. “The chapter house may have a record of a previous residence or where Michael Scott moved after he left college. If we get lucky, we might find someone who lived there at the same time who remembers him. Trust me, those fraternity guys are like army buddies. They’re close.” Impulsively she grabbed Jake’s hands, pulled him to his feet and twirled him around in an excited dance. “They drink together and party together and—”
Jake shot her a wide grin of approval under his black mustache. “Okay, okay. Lead on, Sherlock. Take me to the frat house.”
His arms around her felt good, and she was really pleased with herself for bringing that grin to his face. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“What?”
“‘Frat house’ is considered an insult. It’s a chapter house or the PEL house.”
“Got it.”
BUT HE DIDN’T GET IT. Why did people join fraternities? Jake wondered. Maybe because he’d grown up in an assortment of homes with different kinds of people, he found variety fascinating. He didn’t like the idea of limiting himself to people who thought like he did. He supposed a shrink might say that was because he didn’t like himself. He preferred to believe he was broad-minded.
They found Pi Epsilon Lamda on a street with other houses. Although each flew its own emblem, the houses differed in looks—some were A-frames, some Colonials, some contemporary. Most were brick with large eaves, rich landscapes and yards that needed watering.
Cassidy might never have been on this campus, but she appeared right at home. She smiled at a jock in a sleeveless T-shirt decorated with orange alligators biting one another’s tails; he was petting his dog. She seemed comfortable, friendly and at ease with her world. One of the reasons Jake enjoyed being with Cassidy was her self-confidence. She didn’t hold back, enjoying each moment without worrying about consequences. Open to a variety of people and circumstances, she met the world with a sense of optimism that cracked through Jake’s cynicism.
Just being around Cassidy made him more open to new feelings. Food tasted better. Smells were sharper. And beating the danger that followed them seemed possible.
After years of schooling himself to turn a stoic face to the world, Jake could feel himself opening up again. And whenever Cassidy noticed his voice betraying his emotions, she further shattered his protective shell. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind. There was a freedom in letting himself feel, but a danger, as well.
Jake still maintained control of his actions. He recognized that he possessed special feelings concerning Cassidy, ones she might never return. Had she ever had those feelings for him? He suspected she still considered him a friend, just as she always had. That she wanted a sexual fling didn’t ne
cessary indicate any deeper emotions. Her impulsive nature made reading her difficult. But either way he could deal with it. He had to.
The fraternity jock stopped petting his dog, wiped his hand on his T-shirt, then offered his hand to Cassidy. “Can I help you?”
Jake didn’t like the way the kid eyed Cassidy, as if she was some simpering coed impressed by muscles. What bothered Jake even more was that he’d noticed. He hadn’t been with Cassidy for forty-eight hours and already he was seeing things he’d never before observed. But he wasn’t losing control. Being perceptive about strangers wasn’t a weakness. Not when danger could come from any direction.
Cassidy’s grin widened. “Would you be a Pi Epsilon Lamda?”
The kid nodded with pride. “Sure am.”
Jake smoothly inserted himself into the conversation. “My dad belonged.”
“Cool.” The kid’s smile widened.
Cassidy took Jake’s hand and explained the reason for their visit. “Jake’s dad said if he ever came by this way to look him up on the composite.”
Jake didn’t like her using his real name, but he couldn’t fault her. He had neglected to tell her otherwise. Damn it. What else had he forgotten? Maybe he wasn’t in as much control as he’d thought. Opening himself up to new feelings had a definite downside. But keeping his mind on his work, and only his work, seemed so limiting, especially when he’d glimpsed the possibility of more.
The jock led them inside and waved them over to a wall filled with framed pictures. Each giant frame was composed of members’ head shots and dated with the academic school year. Since the pictures were placed in consecutive order on the wall, Cassidy easily zoomed in on the one photo of Michael Scott.
“That’s him.” She checked the composites for the year before and the year after. “He only joined up for one year. I bet that’s unusual.” While Jake wrote the list of names on a pad, she turned back to the Pi Epsilon Lamda man. “Would you have records of who Mr. Scott might have roomed with? I can’t recall the man’s name, but Jake’s dad wanted us to look him up.”
“You might ask the caretaker,” the jock offered. “He lives in the attic and he’s been here since the Second World War. Go up four flights and knock.”
Cassidy strode through the fraternity house with the boldness of a member. Half-dressed jocks, loud music and messy rooms didn’t even slow her down. Jake wondered if she’d spent time during college in houses like this one, then shoved the thought from his mind. He didn’t want to think about Cassidy partying with other men.
Instead, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Try not to use my real name, Sunshine.”
She turned on the second-story staircase landing to face him, her smile fading. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She glanced toward the front entrance, the way they’d come in, as if expecting their pursuer to arrive and capitalize on her error at any moment. “Is someone tailing us again?”
“I haven’t seen anyone. But it’s better to play it safe and not leave any clues.” He could see the worry in her eyes and sought to bring back her smile. “Hey, it probably doesn’t matter. If anyone comes here and asks questions about visitors, they’ll know it was us.”
“Even with our disguises?”
“How many people do you think ask about thirty-year-old pictures?” he asked wryly.
“You’ve got a point.” A teasing light brightened her eyes. “A very good point…Norbert.”
“That’s not the most flattering name I can think of,” he complained, but enjoyed watching her eyes brighten again. He enjoyed her banter as much as he enjoyed her sharp mind and as much as he’d enjoyed that sizzling kiss, the one he wasn’t going to think about.
“What would you prefer I call you?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, simply threaded her arm through his and accompanied him up the stairs. “I’ve always thought pet names are interesting. I have a friend, Lisa, who lives in New Jersey. Her husband Dave calls her ‘babe.’ She calls him ‘stupid.”’
He could tell from her tone that she was pushing him, trying to get a rise out of him, but he refused to let her chatter distract him. He’d already noted a back staircase they could use for escape if someone suddenly burst through the front door. If necessary, they could go out the window onto the roof and flee toward the next block. But he’d hate to leave his pack behind. He would have carried it with him, but it looked like what it was—supplies for a man on a mission.
They stopped outside a thick attic door and knocked. Jake wasn’t surprised when an elderly gentleman answered, a man old enough to have served in the Second World War. He moved with a spryness surprising for a man his age. Light-blue eyes sparkled with intelligence as he looked at Jake, then Cassidy, before sticking out his hand and introducing himself. “I’m Doc. Not an M.D. Not a Ph.D. I just fix whatever gets broke in this place.”
Cassidy shook Doc’s hand. “I’m Angela, but you can call me Angel.” She grinned with devilment at Jake. “And this is Herman. We wanted to ask you about one of the men in a picture downstairs.”
Jake expected Doc to go downstairs so they could show him the picture, but instead, he invited them into his room. The steep ceiling of the attic and the polished oak floors that gleamed with fresh wax were a perfect backdrop to the antiques scattered about.
“What was the man’s name?”
“Michael Scott.”
“I remember him.”
Jake and Cassidy exchanged a skeptical glance. Doc must have caught it, because he chuckled. “Class of sixty-nine. Dark hair, big shoulders. He joined us his junior year.”
“Would you happen to recall anything else about him?” Jake asked, amazed at the old man’s memory.
Pale-blue eyes gave him a hard look. “Such as?”
“Who he was friends with or who he might have roomed with?” Cassidy asked.
“His roomie was a fellah by the name of Boon Aldrich.”
Jake took out a notebook and pen, started to write, but Doc shook his head. “He died in Vietnam.”
“You have an amazing memory,” Jake complimented the old man.
“It’s not that amazing. Sure, I can remember what happened years ago like it was yesterday. Unfortunately I can’t remember what I had for breakfast.”
“Can you recall anyone else?”
Doc snapped his fingers. “Michael kept to himself. Didn’t party much, but there was one fellah he was tight with. Went by the name of Blake Saunders. Heard he lives over in Jacksonville. You can look him up in the alumni section of the university’s Web site.”
“Thank you, Doc. You’ve been very helpful.” Cassidy looked edgy as she watched a car pull down the street and park in front of the fraternity house. Two doors slammed and trees blocked their view of the newcomers.
Jake didn’t think there was much chance Doc would recall anything else, but one more question was worth a shot, worth using a few precious extra seconds. “Do you recall if Michael Scott had a girlfriend?”
“He sure did. A pretty little girl with a mind as sharp as a tack. Her name was one of those Southern double things. Mary Jo. Mary Ann. Mary Lou. Yes, it was Mary Lou. Sorry, I can’t recall her last name. Michael always said he was going to marry that girl.”
Jake heard a commotion downstairs. Quickly he said thanks, and he and Cassidy turned and left.
Hoping they weren’t trapped, Jake hurried Cassidy down to the second floor before taking the back staircase. He couldn’t quite hear over the loud music what the yelling downstairs was about.
Jake preferred not to be seen, not to have a confrontation here. Although they wore disguises, they wouldn’t pass a close inspection. If they could sneak out the rear and circle back to their car without being seen, he would consider himself very fortunate.
The back stairs led down to an empty kitchen. As they hurried through, Jake wondered how their pursuer could have found them so quickly. He hadn’t made any phone calls or used a credit card. They’d switched vehicles and w
ore disguises. He could think of only a few ways someone could have caught up with them.
As they sprinted around the backyard toward the front, Cassidy whispered. “How did they find us?”
It was amazing how sometimes their minds worked on the same puzzles. Jake opened a gate and peered down the street. He didn’t see anyone, but he could still hear the argument inside. “Either they’re psychic—”
“I don’t believe in that stuff.”
“—or they planted a bug on something we own.”
Cassidy frowned but didn’t slow her footsteps. “But when? How? We switched cars and phones, and no one’s been close enough to touch us since that man came to my house.”
“Or they knew we would come here.” Jake parted branches and helped Cassidy through a hedge. “Just be glad they followed us, instead of waiting in the car.”
Cassidy let out a long sigh. “How could anyone predict our movements? We didn’t even know we were coming here until we accessed the computer in the library.”
“Bingo!” Jake snapped his fingers as he and Cassidy hurried to the car. “There must be some kind of code attached to the Web site. Any inquiries about my father’s name triggers an investigation.”
“Triggers an investigation just like my phone call did?”
“Exactly. The only reason someone targeted you was because you showed interest in my parents’ past.”
Cassidy snapped her seat belt into place just as two men exited the fraternity. “Drive, Jake. Get us out of here.”
“I’m on it.” Jake burned rubber as he peeled out of the parking space and down the street. “Pull out the map.”
Cassidy did as he asked. “And head where?”
“Find the biggest intersection of highways in town and give me directions to it.”
Cassidy sighed. “You don’t know where we’re going, do you?”
“Of course I do.” Jake steered a hard right. “Away from here.”
Cassidy peered over her shoulder at the other car. “How do they keep finding us?”
“We’re leaving a trail and they’re good.” Jake caught a yellow light and stepped on the gas, clearing the intersection just as the light turned red.
The Hidden Years Page 10