Eugene saw the panic on her face and didn't wait to argue. "Let's go, Familiar. We have our marching orders."
Jennifer was already at the door, car keys in hand. "Hurry, Eugene. I'm afraid Bobby Fornaro may be kidnapped."
"Darling, he was perfectly fine not twenty minutes ago. His mother was on her way to the checkout line. I saw her through the plate glass window. I'm sure they've left Delliwag and gone home by now."
"Hurry!" Jennifer pulled the door closed behind them and made sure it locked. Eugene was too lax in leaving his house open.
Ten minutes later they made the corner by Pinkham Street. The wail of the sirens in the parking lot told Jennifer her worst fears had been realized. In the seat beside her, Eugene's face had gone completely gray.
"How did you know it would be Bobby?" he asked in a monotone.
Familiar leapt into his lap and rubbed his whiskers against Eugene's cheek.
"He's redheaded." Jennifer felt like a fool for not telling Eugene what she'd figured out. Maybe if she'd told him, he could have warned Bobby. But the child's name hadn't been on the list prepared by Ms. Whipple, and Jennifer had forgotten about him.
"Why a redhead?"
Jennifer told him about the missing book at Crush Bonbon's house. "The story was about a redheaded boy. I made the connection, and then I carefully went to the Ralstons and the McNairs and made sure their children were safe. But I didn't remember Bobby Fornaro. I didn't, and Ms. Whipple at the library didn't, either."
"Martha checked her list?" Eugene glanced at Jennifer.
"She did. And his name wasn't on it."
"He hasn't been to story hour since February. His grandmother was sick and they've been going to Anniston every weekend. I guess he got left off the list that Martha updates every month."
Jennifer swallowed. She'd stopped the car some thirty yards from where two police cruisers remained, doors open and lights and sirens whirling. Nikki Fornaro sat on the bumper of her car crying into her hands. At her feet was Bobby's dark green school jacket.
"What should we do?"
"Go over there," Eugene said immediately. "I was here only a few moments ago. Maybe even then the kidnapper was in the parking lot, waiting for his chance." Eugene pinched the bridge of his nose as his eyes filled. "If I had talked with Bobby another fifteen minutes, this wouldn't have happened. But I was in a hurry to get home. I had some new treats for the kitties and I wanted to repot those carnations."
Jennifer put her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. "Even if you'd stayed with Bobby, if the kidnapper was determined to get him, he would have, eventually. But I think this puts the finger of suspicion firmly on Crush. It isn't going to be easy, but we're going to have to go to the police. And we're going to have to make them believe us."
"I don't think we're going to have to go anywhere." Eugene pointed through the windshield as two patrolmen started toward Jennifer's car. The looks on their faces said they were coming to deal with a dangerous individual.
They walked to the passenger side, hands hovering near their weapons. "Eugene Legander?"
"Yes." Eugene was unflappable.
"You're under arrest for the kidnapping of Robert Fornaro."
"Don't be ridiculous— " Jennifer shouted.
The officers glared at her. "You stay out of this or we'll take you in on an obstruction charge. Mr. Legander has been identified in the parking lot with the boy. Just as he was with the last two children who have gone missing. This time, he won't get another chance to hurt one of Mobile's youngsters."
The car door was jerked opened, and the officers reached inside, grabbing Eugene.
There was an angry, warning growl from the back seat and the biggest officer reached for his gun.
Just before Familiar made a leap for the policeman's face, Jennifer got her hands on him and pulled him into her arms. "Easy, boy. There's nothing we can do now, and I don't think they'd charge you with assault. These bullies would shoot you on the spot."
"Right." The taller officer gave the cat a wary look as the other snapped handcuffs on Eugene.
"Don't worry, Eugene. We'll get you out in no time."
"Don't you worry, darling," Eugene said over his shoulder as they hustled him away. "I'm always game for an adventure. This episode may even force me out of retirement."
Jennifer felt the tears burn her eyes as she watched, helpless to stop Eugene's arrest. She knew that Eugene wouldn't suffer any mistreatment at the hands of the police. It was just the idea of the humiliation of being dragged off in handcuffs. The process was humiliating— and damaging. Only Eugene would consider it an adventure.
The patrol car, with Eugene in the back, pulled out of the parking lot and headed downtown. Jennifer wanted to follow, but she knew it would do no good. She had to figure out a good defense position for the flack that would soon rain down on her head harder than a hail storm.
The Fornaro station wagon was still in the lot, blocked off from the handful of curious spectators by the yellow crime scene tape that Jennifer had grown to dread. She knew better than to touch the car. Good Lord, they had enough troubles without the authorities finding her fingerprints on anything.
She was about to go home when Familiar made an agile leap out of the open passenger window. Darting in front of a black pickup that was traveling far too fast, he scampered across the lot and headed straight for the blue station wagon. The crowd was dispersing, drifting back to work or to finish errands now that the cops and emergency vehicles were gone.
Even so, the parking lot was crowded, and Familiar had disappeared near the station wagon. Jennifer had to get him, and fast.
"Familiar." She got out and stood beside the car, hissing at the cat. "When I get you I'm going to make microwave kitty puffs. Delicious with a glass of milk." She gritted her teeth. The cat could hear her but he was sauntering under the right front wheel of the Fornaro car.
Checking around the lot, Jennifer made sure there were no plainclothes cops hanging around. They'd called for a tow truck to haul the station wagon to the city garage where they could take it apart piece by piece in the hopes of finding some clue.
If they even hunted for one. Jennifer knew they were going to try to pin it on Eugene. And his fingerprints would be on the car. He'd leaned in the window talking with Bobby. All she needed now was for Familiar to do something and get himself impounded. That would be the final straw.
Jennifer hurried across the parking lot. Familiar's black tail disappeared around the back wheel of the station wagon.
"When I get my hands on you, you're going to make a lovely ornament for the rear window of my car. I'm certain I can break your neck so that your head bobs whenever I stop."
"Me-ow." Familiar blinked, golden eyes seeming to tilt with amusement as he looked out from beneath the car.
"You better not be laughing at me." She made a lunge for him, but he darted deeper under the vehicle.
"Drat you." She got down on her hands and knees, doing her best not to allow any part of her body to come in contact with the car.
Just out of reach, Familiar sat on a rectangle of paper. "Kitty, kitty," Jennifer pleaded.
Instead of coming to her, he got off the paper and nudged it toward her with his paw. It took some effort on his part, but he finally marshaled the paper to her outstretched fingers.
"This had better be good," she warned, feeling the shells embedded in the asphalt of the parking lot dig deeper and deeper into her knees.
Even as she touched the page, she recognized what it was. How had the police overlooked it? Perhaps they hadn't looked. Not very hard. They'd believed Eugene was guilty, and they'd looked no farther. So they'd missed the page from his book that had been left by the kidnapper.
Rocking back on her haunches, Jennifer stared at the page. It was about the young redheaded boy who wanted to fly. Familiar came out from under the car and rubbed against her bruised knees.
The words seemed to blur and blend in front of her, yet she
stared at the page in the hot sun as if it would tell her secrets.
Familiar's black paw slapping at the page finally brought her back to the present. She looked at the cat's knowing eyes, and then at the spot on the page where he'd slapped.
Ninety-eight.
"What does it mean?" she asked herself softly. "What could it possibly mean?"
The sound of a large truck headed in her direction made her look up. The tow truck, followed by a police cruiser, was headed straight across the parking lot toward them. Still on her haunches, she duck walked around a green Chevy coupe. Three cars later, she got up to a crouch because her legs were burning with pain.
Zigzagging across the lot, she went to her car. Familiar took the back seat and she slid into the driver's seat. For a long moment she stared at the page before she put it on the passenger seat beside her. There was something there, something obvious. If only she could see it!
Jennifer slammed the steering wheel with her hand in complete frustration. "I could do something dire and gruesome— if I knew who to do it to." She slammed the steering wheel again. The glove box of the car popped open and a pile of paper and clutter spilled to the floor. "Well, I'll be a cross-eyed lounge lizard." She reached across the console to grab the mess when Familiar suddenly dropped off the seat into the middle of the clutter.
"Well, my fine feline, since you're so smart, you can clean it up." She started the car and eased out of the parking lot. There was nothing to do but go home and face the music with Maji. She'd driven Eugene right into the arms of an arrest. And no matter that the old writer had gone cheerfully, she still felt as though she'd let him down.
Not to mention the fact that another child was missing.
"Meow!"
Familiar's cry drew her attention to the floorboard. He'd managed to unfold a map of the state of Alabama and was clawing a hole in the portion of the state near the gulf.
"What now?" She looked for a place to pull over before the cat shredded the entire map into a zillion pieces. Eugene was adamantly opposed to having his cats declawed— an abominable act promoted by heathens, he'd said. But as Jennifer watched the pieces of the map fly around her car, she considered its merit.
"Eleanor might prefer you declawed— and lobotomized!"
Familiar didn't dignify her remark with a look, he just kept shredding.
At a side street Jennifer stopped the car. When she reached down to get the map, there was little left, just a small section of the coastline of Alabama, Mississippi, and Florida.
And a highway ran east to west across the entire section.
Highway 98.
Chapter Fourteen
"Be still!" Jennifer nudged her big purse with her toe and spoke to it with tightened lips. The bag shifted and finally stopped.
"Did you say something to me?" the receptionist at the newspaper asked. She gave Jennifer a doubtful glance.
"Uh, I said it was still hot outside." Jennifer smiled, but knew it looked as fake as pearls from a Mardi Gras parade.
"Mr. Tenet is on the third floor." She gave Jennifer a badge to indicate she was a visitor.
"Thanks." Jennifer grabbed the bag, staggering slightly under the weight. Ignoring the receptionist's questioning look, she hurried up the stairs.
"You're going on a diet you overfed, underdisciplined feline," she whispered to the bag as she huffed up the three flights of stairs.
James's cubicle was off to the left, and he was busy at his computer, the keys rattling along as he wrote.
"James?" Jennifer stopped three steps behind him. The sight of his broad shoulders and his dark, thick hair, made her lose her train of thought. He was a handsome man. An ethical man. Her feelings for him were growing stronger each day.
He whirled in the chair, a smile touching his eyes and lips. Then his glance fell on the bag Jennifer carried, which was moving.
"You brought me something alive for a snack?" He quirked an eyebrow. "How thoughtful."
"Shut up and help me with this cat." She handed him the bag. "I couldn't leave him in the car in the parking lot. You know how much trouble Familiar can get into, but I had to come here. It's Highway 98. I know it. And Familiar knows it, too."
James looked at her, then the bag, then her. "Let's go into the conference room. I think we need a place where we can talk privately."
He led the way to a room with a long conference table. As soon as he closed the door behind them, Jennifer unzipped her bag. Familiar came out, his fur bristled and a gleam was in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," Jennifer said, stroking his fur back into place. "I said it would be uncomfortable."
"What's going on here?" James motioned Jennifer into a chair but he remained standing.
"Eugene has been arrested. Bobby Fornaro has been kidnapped." She took a breath as she saw the worry on his face. "Familiar found another page from Eugene's book, and we cracked the clue."
James eased into a chair. "I know I can follow this conversation. It's just going to be difficult."
"Ninety-eight. It's a highway. It was the same page number left by the car where Bobby was taken."
"Highway 98." He nodded. "It's possible."
"I'm positive. Now all we have to do is figure out where along the highway the children are being held."
At Jennifer's look of hope, James felt his heart contract. "Jennifer, it's a long highway. It goes through several states." To avoid the look of dismay on her face, he got up and left the room. In a moment he returned with two soft drinks and a map. "See." He spread the map across the table. "Highway 98 runs from Natchez, Mississippi to St. Petersburg, Florida." He spoke softly, but he knew the words were devastating.
"They could be anywhere." The elation she'd felt was completely gone. What was left was despair.
James lightly rubbed her shoulders. "We need more information. This is a good start, but it isn't enough to find them."
"What am I going to do?" She turned and looked up at him, her blue eyes filling with tears. "We have to find those children, James. We have to."
"We will." For Jennifer's sake, he forced his voice to sound solid and certain. But the disappearance of Bobby Fornaro had added another measure of grave doubt to an already bad situation. It wasn't that James suspected Eugene— he knew the writer was innocent. But the children were gone, and the chances that they would be returned, unharmed, grew slimmer and slimmer with each passing day. What kidnapper would continue to select children without demanding a ransom of some type? Unless…
"What time is Eugene's retirement announcement set for?"
"Tomorrow at three o'clock." Jennifer had gained control of her emotions. "Why?"
"Where?"
"The library."
"Perfect." James smiled for the first time in what seemed like days.
"What's perfect?"
"What if Eugene is right? What if the person taking these children is doing it because of professional jealousy. If Eugene retires, then maybe the children will be freed."
"What's perfect about the library?"
"It's the most significant place to do this. It'll lend credence to the announcement. And, we have Ms. Whipple to help us keep an eye on a few things."
The glint in James's eye was contagious. "What's going on in that clever little mind of yours?" Jennifer asked. Even Familiar was watching him with interest.
"Cameras."
"As in home video or still?"
"Video." James went to a small table and picked up a phone book. He handed it to Jennifer. "Here. Look up some places that rent video equipment. We want enough to set up cameras so that the library is covered from every angle at that retirement announcement."
"So we can study the tapes." Jennifer was right on track. "The person who wants Eugene to quit bad enough to steal children wouldn't dare miss the formal retirement announcement."
"Exactly!"
"And if we can come up with a suspect, then maybe we can find a connection to Highway 98."
James gathered
her into his arms and kissed her. His desire for her was constant. Her body felt so right against his. He eased back from her and forced his mind to function. "Yes! We have to find the connection."
"Oh, God, James, I hope this works."
"So do I."
"Meow!" Familiar nudged the phone book toward Jennifer.
"I think he wants me to get busy."
James held her and kissed her again, lightly. "That cat may be right, but he's a real pain in the butt."
"Go." Jennifer pushed him toward the door.
"I'll finish up this story and then we'll go get the equipment and set it up. I'm sure Martha Whipple will help us."
Jennifer nodded, her fingers already walking through the Yellow Pages.
* * *
THE FOURTH CAMERA was mounted and loaded with fresh tape. Martha Whipple showed James the closet where the library ladder was stored.
"You two are very thorough." She nodded at all of the equipment, and the control center that they'd located beneath the library desk. There were dark circles under her eyes and she rubbed beneath her glasses in an unconscious gesture of weariness. "So you think you'll be able to figure out who's behind all of this by looking at the tapes?"
"That's what we're hoping," James said as he closed the closet door and wiped his dirty hands on his jeans. Jennifer was taping cable to the floor, her face smudged with dirt and her lovely hair tied back with a kerchief.
"How is Eugene?" Martha Whipple took off her glasses and cleaned them on her blouse.
"Not so good." James didn't know Martha Whipple well, but she was a friend of Eugene's, and he felt he owed her the truth. "He's worried about those kids. This retirement is something he insists on. He says he can't write he's so worried, so he might as well quit."
"I never thought Eugene Legander would stop writing." Her eyes dropped to the floor to hide her emotions. "You know he's been doing it since he was virtually an infant." She pinched the bridge of her nose.
James laughed at the mental picture of an infant Eugene pecking away at his typewriter, but his laughter contained an element of sadness. He was worried about the writer. More worried than he'd ever let on to Jennifer.
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