Broken Build (22 page)

Greta knocked on the bathroom door. “I’m going to order lunch. Will quiche and cantaloupe do?”

“Yes, it’ll be fine.” Jen pulled on a pair of jeans and a white blouse and stepped out of the bathroom. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Greta patted her shoulder. “That’s what mentors are for. So, tell me, why are you involved with Dave Jewell? Didn’t I warn you about predatory males? That man is up to no good. Imagine framing you for a murder he obviously committed.”

“I’m not involved with him.”

Dave had turned away from her kiss and accused her of saying she loved him manipulatively. But he wouldn’t frame her, would he? And not in a million years could he have killed anyone. Jocelyn’s husband had been a sensitive man, happy-go-lucky, not anything like the morose Dave she knew. Her stomach ground like a set of millstones. She had done this to him.

Greta brought her a glass of water. “You can tell me. What really happened? Has Jewell been taking advantage of you sexually?”

Jen’s face heated, and she averted her gaze. “No. He’s helping me, that’s all.”

“More like helping himself. I bet he tried to seduce you after he took you home, or did he force you? Or is he getting you to take the rap for him by sweet-talking you? If he tells you he loves you, it’s bullshit.”

Jen stared at the wool Berber carpet. “He hasn’t said anything.”

Although… how would it feel to hear those words from him, even knowing he didn’t mean it? On the cliff at Santa Cruz, he had kissed her so sweetly, lovingly, taking his time. Maybe he had been thinking of Jocelyn. A lump grew in Jen’s throat. She could never replace Jocelyn.

Greta’s cell phone rang. She picked it up and waved to Jen. “It’s Mrs. Walker for you.”

Jen placed the phone to her ear.

“Jen, finally. Your phone is still out of service. Owen gave me this number.” Mrs. Walker’s cheerful voice brought a tiny smile to her face. “You
are
coming for Thanksgiving. Don’t tell me you have to work.”

“I’d love to come. How’s Christy?”

“I’ll put her on.”

Jen waited for her sister.

“Jen, did you see the internet? Oh, my gosh! Tammy’s texting me... What happened? Did you kill somebody? Do you have a new boyfriend?”

Jen closed her eyes and gathered her breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow. My lawyer says I shouldn’t talk about anything. Of course I didn’t do it.”

“They’re saying they found the murder weapon. Your boyfriend’s car was impounded. Jen, what’s going on? Pop’s going to be so mad.”

“Pop? He’s probably drunk as a skunk in some juke joint. Why would he care?”

“He texted me. He said to stop using ‘Jen Jones’ as your name. It’s too close to his.”

Jen clenched her fists at the surge of anger rising in her chest. “Is that all he has to say at a time like this?”

Her father had taken the moniker Len Jones for his zydeco band. He hadn’t cared to give her his last name until after her mother died. Too bad for him.

“Oh, sorry. I gotta go,” Christy chirped. “Sammy’s texting me. He’s out of the hospital. Bye.”

“So, are you set to come?” Mrs. Walker’s voice came on the line.

“Can I bring a friend? A woman friend?” Jen didn’t want to admit that part of the condition for her bail was supervision from Greta, not to mention Greta had provided her bond from her personal funds.

“Sure, she’s welcome too. How about you show up between one-thirty and two? It’ll give you a chance to sleep in. If you want to help, you’re welcome to arrive earlier.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jen said. “I’ll see how I feel tomorrow. Right now, I need a long nap.”

Not much she could do without her glasses. With her 20/1000 vision, she might as well be sitting in the middle of a fuzzy cloud.

* * *

Dave pulled the rental car out of the parking lot and called Owen. Claire had promised to meet him at the courthouse for Jen’s bail. “Were you able to get an arraignment this afternoon?”

“Where were you? I went to your house and all the cars were gone. You didn’t answer your door. Jen’s glasses are still at your place, and she wants the Bible.”

Dave gripped the steering wheel tighter. Who was Owen to start haranguing him? He rushed for a left turn light, barely making it. “I’m on my way to the courthouse. How is Jen?”

“She’s out on bail. Greta Debeers has buddies in the district attorney’s office. They held the hearing already.”

Dave straightened up in his seat. “What? Where’s Jen now?”

“Greta raised the bond and took Jen to her home.”

What the hell? He couldn’t let Greta dig her claws into Jen. Who knew what insidious thoughts Greta would put in Jen’s mind, especially with the sexual harassment charges? “Where does Greta live?”

“I can’t tell you unless Greta agrees,” Owen replied. “Meet me at your place, and I’ll fetch her glasses. She’s blind right now.”

Dave stepped on the brake and skidded through an intersection. His car fishtailed as he made a U-turn. “Okay, on my way.”

Stupid Owen. Did he not think he couldn’t find Greta’s address? He called Lisa and within minutes, the address was texted to his phone.

He slowed and turned into his driveway. Owen stood next to his car, safely parked in front of the closed garage door.

“Why did you allow Greta to bail her out?” He grabbed Owen and shoved him against his car.

“Calm down. Do you think your lawyer would advise you to bail out a woman who might have used your vehicle to commit a crime?”

“She didn’t do it.”

“How do you know?”

“I know her. She was the nanny who took care of Abby. She was a kind and loving girl, Jocelyn’s most loyal friend. She couldn’t stand to see anyone hurt, and she’s too squeamish to run anyone over.” He opened the door. “I don’t care what everyone’s saying on the internet. I don’t care about Mrs. Bunney’s eyewitness account. She didn’t do it. She cared too much about the build to take a detour. She would have taken a cab if her boyfriend had refused to drive her back to work.”

“Wait…” Owen grabbed the lapel of his jacket. “Who’s Mrs. Bunney? The D.A.’s supposed to let me know of any discoveries.”

“Claire went to pick her up to meet us at the courthouse.”

“Who’s Claire? Give me her cell.”

Dave scribbled the number on a piece of paper, and Owen snatched it from him.

“What did Mrs. Bunney see?” Owen entered the number into his phone.

“She saw an attractive young woman with long brown hair drive away with my Camry.”

Beads of sweat popped on Owen’s forehead. “I guess Jen will have to wait for her glasses. I have to get to the courthouse.”

“No worries, I’ll take the glasses to her.”

“No, you’re supposed to stay away from her.”

“Like hell I will.” Dave stomped to the kitchen table and stuffed the glasses in his shirt pocket. He grabbed the Bible from the nightstand and swept the scattered pictures of Jen and Abby into the photo album.

Owen advanced and retreated, then advanced again, then threw up his hands. “You’re jeopardizing the case.”

“Jen needs me, not Greta.” Dave pushed Owen out the door and locked it. He set the GPS on his cell and zoomed down the driveway.

Chapter 22

Jen massaged her aching temples and sat on Greta’s white couch. After eating the delicious quiche with spinach and Gruyere cheese, Jen tried to relax and meditate on nothingness. It was no use. Questions swirled through her mind. Each one with Dave at the center.

The intercom phone rang and Greta picked it up.

“You can’t come up here.” Greta’s voice screeched. “Leave them at the lobby and I’ll pick them up.”

“Who is it?” Jen asked, half-hoping Dave had come after her.

Greta slammed the receiver. “Dave. He has your glasses.”

The phone rang again. Jen turned her face so Greta couldn’t see her smile.

Greta answered it. “If you don’t leave us alone, I’m calling the police.” She scowled and cupped the receiver. “He wants to talk to you.”

Jen took the receiver from Greta. “Dave? Owen says it’s better if I don’t speak to you. They might think we’re cooking up a story.”

“I know you didn’t do it,” Dave said. “Can you come down and talk to me?”

Her heart ached at hearing his voice. Wasn’t he angry at her for being the nanny? She deflected. “My ankle still hurts, and I’m not exactly presentable. My face is black and blue.”

He would no doubt drill her about the kidnapping.

“You look fine, I’m sure. Let’s have lunch or something.”

“I-I’m not hungry.” Jen had just eaten.

“Okay, then. I need you to do the final packaging and upload. Lester doesn’t know how to access the staging servers.”

“I could give him the password and talk him through it.”

“I’d rather you did it. I restored your login and access to the network. And Jen? I-I kind of miss you too.” His deep voice wavered and tugged the dusty corners of her heart, the unvisited places where she had tucked her need to be wanted.

“Okay. You have to promise Greta she won’t lose her hundred thou.” She handed the receiver to Greta. “Please let him come up. I need to go back to work for a bit.”

Greta pressed the button to allow him up the elevator and hung up the phone. “I can’t believe he wants you to work at a time like this.”

Jen rubbed lotion on her hands and picked up her purse. “I owe it to the company.”

A sharp rap sounded on the door a few minutes later. Greta patted her auburn hair and opened the door.

Dave stepped in with both hands in his jacket pocket. She couldn’t see him clearly, but the room seemed brighter. He handed her the glasses. “I’ll grab your crutches. How’s the ankle?”

“Wait a minute,” Greta said. “I’m the one who bailed her out. I don’t want to lose my money.”

“Small potatoes for the damages you hope to collect with your sexual harassment lawsuit.”

“What?” Jen’s breath caught. She looked from Dave to Greta and back again.

Dave tipped his face at Greta. “Go ahead. Tell her how you’re using her.”

Greta crossed her arms. “You’re the one who’s taking advantage of her.”

“She, at least, still has a job.” Dave touched Jen’s arm lightly. “Let’s go.”

“Not so fast.” Greta stepped in front of him. “I’m responsible for her.”

“Dave’s not bothering me,” Jen said. “We’re only going to work.”

Greta straightened the collar on Jen’s blouse. “When will you be back?”

“Don’t worry.” Dave handed Jen the crutches. “I’ll bring her back before she turns into a pumpkin.”

Greta huffed and slammed the door after them. Jen hobbled with Dave to the elevator. Her heart fluttered once the doors closed. Would he light into her for being the nanny? Interrogate her now that he had her?

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “Once we get to the office, act like nothing happened. Everyone’s going to be curious about your arrest. I’ll run interference. You go into my office and work on the build.”

“Sure, sounds good.” Jen stared at his oil-tanned boots.

They exited the elevator and walked into the parking garage. He stopped at a car. “Sorry, it’s another Camry. White.”

“Doesn’t bother me.” Jen got in. “I didn’t steal your car.”

He touched her chin and turned her face to look at him. “I know you didn’t. But there’s a witness who says you did.”

Blood drained from her head. “Who? Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Someone’s trying to frame us. I know I didn’t do it. You did go straight to work that night, right?”

Jen’s lips trembled. “Yes, but who’d hate us so much?”

 “Maybe the same people who bother me about the kidnapping every year. Somehow they found out you were the nanny and they’re using you to… to… ruin my company or drive me psycho.”

The nanny. Here it came. Jen braced herself. “I should have told you who I was. Do you hate me now?”

Dave put the key in the ignition and rubbed his jaw. “All these years I hated the nanny. But it wasn’t you I hated.”

He took her hand. “Do you understand?”

Tears rimmed Jen’s eyes. “I’d hate myself too, if it happened to me.”

Dave opened her palm and rolled his thumb in the center. “You loved Abby. It’s not like you let the kidnappers in.”

Jen gulped. If he knew, he wouldn’t be so forgiving. “It was still my fault. I should have done a better job.”

He let go her hand and patted her shoulder. “Let’s not worry about it now. The first priority is the Black Friday build. It’s what we’ve all been working for.”

Jen looked out the window. A man sat in a black car across from them. A chill tickled her scalp. “Can we drive? It’s getting stuffy in here.”

“Sure.” He switched on the ignition.

Jen looked back as they wound their way through the parking garage. Sure enough, the black car started and came after them.

“I think we’re being followed,” she said.

“Damn reporters. I’ll lose him.” Dave paid the ticket with his credit card and glanced at the rear view mirror.

The car had stopped, idling near the elevator as if waiting for someone, but as soon as Dave pulled out of the driveway, it went toward the tollgate.

Dave negotiated around the one-way streets, cut in front of a bus, hung a quick right, and zoomed onto Guadalupe Parkway. “Is he still behind us?”

“Not sure. There are so many black cars.” She kept looking back, her heart in her throat. A car honked when Dave swerved into the exit at the last minute.

“Ha, ha!” Dave exclaimed. “I bet we lost him.”

A few turns more and they were at the office. Smiling faces greeted Jen and crowded around her.

“We were so worried about you.”

“What happened to you?”

“Mr. Jewell rescued you. It’s all on the news.”

“How’d you get out of jail?”

“We’re running out of space on the build servers.”

Dave stopped in front of his office. “How’s the build? Any open issues?”

Satish stepped forward. “Everything is good to go, except auto-update.”

“Does it still wedge the servers?”

“Yes, we can’t figure it out.” Satish replied.

“It’s not important for the trial,” Dave said. “Email me the link to the latest test results. Lisa, go to AT&T before it closes and pick up a new cell phone for Jen.”