Finders Keepers (6 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Finders Keepers
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For starters, her best friend had not only lent her the money for the apartment, but also for the first year's tuition. She had also said she was taking care of the school-transcript requirements, so her parents couldn't trace her through the university. Sophie was so worldly. Sophie could do anything. Sophie was her friend. The Rolands thought she was going to Georgia Tech, where she had also been accepted. With a 4.0 average she could have named the college of her choice. She knew in her heart the moment she left for college her parents would start making plans to move back to Atlanta. She wouldn't be the least bit surprised to find out they had already done just that. Weren't they going to be surprised.
Plain and simple, Jessie was going to disappear. With Sophie's foolproof plan she would have a week's head start. The first thing she was going to do before she left for Atlanta in the morning was to go to the bank and take a healthy hit from her trust fund. Sophie said she needed to take enough to live well for the first year. “Your parents won't realize what you did for at least a month or until the next bank statement comes in,” Sophie said in her authoritative voice. She'd gone on to say, “Trust me.”
It all came down to planning. For days now she'd been shopping, buying clothes that students were wearing in New York, according to Sophie, who was knowledgeable on every subject in the universe. “No matter what, Jessie, you can count on me.” It was all Jessie needed to hear. The plan moved forward. Tomorrow phase one, as she thought of it, would go into effect.
Jessie stretched out her legs. It was going to be so wonderful to get away from her obsessive, domineering mother. She would miss her father, though. She would miss Ellie, too, but she wouldn't miss her mother at all. In fact when she drove away she knew she wouldn't look back. Nor would she ever return. She was young, strong, healthy, and she could make it on her own. It was her plan to work while attending college. One way or the other she was going to make it on her own. She had a brain and had proved it by skipping the ninth grade and going straight into her sophomore year. She was on par with Sophie now, who was also a sophomore at Tulane.
Life was going to be wonderful, but if she didn't start moving, something was going to go awry. She shoved her treasure trove to the small doorway and pushed it through. Then she backed out and closed the door. Within minutes she had her things secured in the trunk of the BMW along with all the new clothes she'd purchased, still in their shopping bags. The trunk was full. The best part of everything was, she wasn't taking a thing her parents had bought her. She was going to make a clean break and never look back.
Back in her bedroom, Jessie took a shower and dressed for the morning. There was no way she would sleep tonight. She would sit up and read and perhaps go downstairs to make a cup of tea. Bright and early she'd be ready for her trip to Atlanta.
Instead of reading, Jessie found herself rocking in her favorite chair. An overwhelming feeling of sadness swept over her, and she didn't know why. Just earlier she'd been elated at the prospect of her freedom. Maybe it was the picture of her parents on her dresser that had appeared one day right after her tenth birthday. When she opened her eyes in the morning it was the first thing she saw. When she was younger she'd wished that someone would steal it, but it was such a ridiculous wish she knew it would never happen.
By most standards she had a wonderful life. Doting parents, albeit obsessive, everything worldly that money could buy, a beautiful home, a generous allowance, a fantastic trust fund, her own car, one friend, and no pet except a tired old goldfish who swam aimlessly in his small tank. She hadn't even bothered to name the fish because she wanted something more alive, something to
breathe
on her, something to cuddle with.
Jessie continued to stare with unblinking eyes at the picture of her parents. Her father was a kind man who seemed dedicated to making her life as worry-free as possible. He was also a wonderful arbitrator where her mother was concerned. She would miss him but not enough to make her want to return. It was her mother that was driving her from the house. She roll-called all the years of her life and the misery she'd endured at her mother's hands. She resented everything about her mother—right down to her flowery afternoon dresses, floppy hats, and pristine white gloves. She hated the sickly smell of her perfume and the pressed powder on her cheeks. She hated being called sweetheart, darling child, and precious love. She realized in that one brief second that she hated her mother. There was a darkness about her she couldn't explain, a certain tone in her voice that reminded her of something she could never name. She hated the sensation that her skin was crawling when her mother wrapped her in her arms to smother her with hugs and kisses. She couldn't breathe then. Even now she felt the darkness, and her breathing was uneven.
Just a few more hours and she would be free of it all.
 
Barnes watched Jessie walk across the yard. He wouldn't have seen her if it wasn't for the moonlight. He felt a tightness settle between his shoulder blades. A cigar found its way to his mouth. Here in this room he'd been relegated to he was permitted to do whatever he pleased. Thea had banished him from the room they shared several years ago when his restlessness prevented her from sleeping. “You reek of cigar smoke, and your snoring is loud enough to wake the neighbors.” He'd welcomed the move because he spent half the night pacing and worrying. Guilt was such a terrible feeling. He longed for the days when it was time to send another package of money to the Larsons. For a few hours he was able to almost wipe the guilt away. He was toying now with the idea of sending a graduation picture of Jessie with the next box. His insides started jumping around when he thought of the FBI tracking the picture. Better to let sleeping dogs lie.
In a few hours Jessie would be driving alone to Atlanta for Sophie's yearly party. Sophie's parties were the envy of all the proper young ladies in Atlanta because they were never chaperoned. Janice Ashwood removed herself from the steaming city to flit wherever the spirit moved her when Sophie's party loomed on the horizon.
Thea had taken to her bed when Jessie announced she was attending the party. She'd literally turned blue with anger when Jessie announced, just days earlier, that she was not returning to the College of Charleston. In his life he'd never heard such a screaming match as he heard that day. Jessie's words still rang in his ears. “You lied to me. You said if it didn't work out for me, you would allow me to go to Georgia Tech. You promised, Mother. Now you're breaking that promise. I knew this would happen, so I took matters into my own hands. I registered and paid my tuition. I'm going. If you persist in fighting me, I will never come back here. I need a life. I'm eighteen. I'm a year ahead of myself because I studied all my life. I wanted you to be proud of me. I don't want to be shackled to you any longer. I feel like I can't
breathe
when I'm around you. I did what you wanted. I always did what you wanted because you taught me to be obedient and respectful. My life is your life. You drove me to this point, Mother. I have to take charge of my life.”
Barnes blinked when he remembered how Thea had stretched out her arms, trying to grapple and paw Jessie, who nimbly stepped away. “Don't touch me!” she'd screamed. “I hate it when you strangle me with your arms.” Thea had collapsed into a heap on the drawing-room floor. Jessie had stared at her, then walked away. It was over. She would start to remember soon, he was sure of it. He was so sure that he was actually considering taking Thea to some South American country where the FBI would never find them.
Barnes frowned as he watched Jessie carry boxes from the playhouse to her car parked at the back of the house. He moved quickly then, running down the steps to the library window, where he would have a better view of his daughter's activities.
He'd known for a long time that Jessie kept things in the playhouse she didn't want him or Thea to see. He hadn't minded, and he kept quiet because Thea never suspected. He knew for a fact that she went through Jessie's room every single day. What she hoped to find would always be a mystery. Perhaps some clue that Jessie was starting to remember.
Barnes waited until he heard Jessie creep up the steps before he poured himself a tumbler of bourbon and lit a new cigar. When he finished both he walked over to the wall safe and opened it. Thea's heirloom jewelry, the religious medal he'd never sent the Larsons even though he'd told Thea he had, and bundles and bundles of cash. Two days ago he'd replenished the currency when he mailed off a box of money to Jessie's parents from Chicago. He lined up the bundles of money on his desk the moment he closed the safe. He needed to write a note. He needed to say something to the young woman he'd come to love with all his heart. He knew in his heart, in his mind, in his gut, that Jessie was never going to return to the Charleston house. He thought of his wife and what it was going to do to her. So much money. He poured another tumbler of bourbon and fired up a fresh cigar. He needed other papers from the built-in file cabinet. His hands were unsteady when he shuffled through the bank folders until he found the ones that pertained to Jessie's trust fund.
Barnes drained the glass of bourbon before he clamped his teeth around the fat cigar. He penned off a short note to include in the box. He was an expert at wrapping tidy boxes. He nestled all the cash from the safe, the small jeweler's box with the medal, and the papers inside the box. He wrapped it securely with paper and twine before he used a thick black marker to write Jessie's name on the outside. Where the return address would normally go he wrote DAD.
He rummaged in his desk drawer for the spare key to Jessie's car. He used up more minutes telling himself he was doing the right thing before he summoned up all his guts to walk outside. He felt like a sneak when he rearranged Jessie's boxes in her car. He was careful to put his own box next to the accordion-pleated carton so that she would see it when she unpacked her car.
Back in the house Barnes stomped his way to the filing cabinet. His face twisted into a grimace when he recalled words from a movie he'd seen. When you want to hide something, hide it in the open, which was exactly what he'd done.
The folder was thick and full of clippings from the AP wire service. Words like complicity, reciprocity, kidnapping and accomplice ricocheted around inside his head. He had been a willing participant. His hands were clumsy as he shuffled the clippings in the folder. He read them all, but then he'd read them before on nights like this when his guilt threatened to consume him. He wondered if the day would ever come when he would show the folder to
anyone.
At some point he knew he'd destroy the file. He just didn't know when that time would be.
The file drawer closed at the exact moment Jessie poked her head inside the doorway. “You are an early bird today. Aren't those the same clothes you had on last night? You didn't sleep, did you?”
Barnes did his best to smile. He thought he was finally drunk. He must be—the bourbon bottle was empty. “No, I didn't sleep. It's only seven o'clock. I thought you weren't leaving till nine. You don't look like you slept either.”
“Would you like me to make some coffee? We can let Ellie sleep in this morning. It was nice of you to get her that hearing aid, Daddy.”
“Coffee sounds good.” Food, drink, and Ellie were safe subjects. Barnes followed Jessie to the kitchen. He watched her, marveling at her wholesomeness. Thea was going to throw a fit when she saw her jeans rolled to mid-calf and her sockless feet clad in dirty white sneakers. The baggy T-shirt was tied in a knot at her waist and topped off with a cherry red sweater wrapped around her slim shoulders. She wore a leather strap watch with a big face. He wondered where the Rolex was, the one Thea insisted he buy for her. Probably thrown in a drawer upstairs. To his knowledge the dress watch Thea had given her several years ago, encrusted with diamonds and emeralds, had never been seen. It was probably in a drawer somewhere, too, along with all the other pricey baubles Thea bought on a monthly basis. He doubted if Jessie's real family even knew what a Rolex watch was. From his position next to the kitchen window he had a clear view of his brand-new cream-colored Bentley, Thea's Mercedes sedan, and Jessie's year-old BMW. One of the articles said the Larsons drove a ten-year-old pickup truck. He felt sick to his stomach.
“I don't think I've ever seen you in a red sweater before, Jessie.”
“That's because Mama hates red sweaters. I just bought it the other day. Actually I bought two of them. They look so cheerful. I don't know why, but I love the color red.”
Barnes felt his stomach heave. There had been a red sweater in the pink stroller that day when Thea grabbed the child. To his knowledge he'd never seen it since.
Barnes glanced in the dining room; Thea was already seated at the table, dressed for the day, complete with makeup. He felt his stomach start to knot up. “Jessie and I are having coffee in the kitchen, Thea. Do you want to join us?”
“In the kitchen!” She made the three little words sound like her husband and daughter were drinking with the devil in hell. “Jessie is leaving in a little while. Don't you think the dining room is more appropriate? Good grief, Barnes, is this the thought you want to leave with Jessie? Drinking coffee in the kitchen is so tacky. She'll be back in a few days. It isn't like she's going away forever. I packed our bags, Barnes. We'll drive a discreet distance behind her to make sure she arrives safely. Then when she leaves, we'll follow her home. Why are you looking at me like that, Barnes?”

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