Pursued (5 page)

The more Jennie thought about it, the more she was convinced that Rocky was not who he seemed. She made a mental note to ask Allison about him. In the meantime, she had a few questions herself. “The grounds here are beautiful,” Jennie commented. “Must be a full-time job to keep them up. Do you do it alone?”

Rocky shaded his eyes with his hand and peered at her. He opened his mouth to answer when a piercing scream from inside the house brought both of them to their feet.

Rocky reached Allison's room only seconds before Jennie. Allison, nearly as pale as her swimsuit, clutched a towel to her chest with one hand and clung to Lisa's arm with the other. Lisa guided the girl to the nearest chair and lowered her into it. Paige and Lisa looked nearly as shaken as Allison.

“What's wrong? What happened?” Jennie and Rocky asked together.

Lisa pointed toward the bathroom.

Jennie ran toward the door. Rocky put out an arm to stop her. “Wait here,” he ordered as he slipped through the open door and looked around.

Jennie glanced back at Lisa. “What's going on?”

“The mirror,” Lisa squeaked. Her voice reflected the fear in her eyes.

Ignoring Rocky's orders, Jennie entered the bathroom. On the large vanity mirror above the sink someone had drawn a crude picture of a rose and written a message in red:

I'M GETTING CLOSER PRINCESS.
PREPARE TO DIE!!!

The last two words had been smudged. “She tried to wipe it off,” Lisa said, coming up behind Jennie. “Paige and I pulled her away. I thought the police would want to see it.”

Jennie nodded, staring at the mirror as the implications settled in on her. The stalker had been here—in this room. Rocky ushered Jennie and Lisa out of the bathroom just as Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont rushed into the room. Whatever had been holding Allison together until then crumbled. The girls took turns telling what they knew, which wasn't much. The mirror had been clean when Lisa and Jennie had used the bathroom earlier to change. Allison, when she'd calmed down enough to talk, verified that there had been nothing on it when they'd gone downstairs to swim.

While the girls were in the pool, someone had gone into the house, sneaked upstairs to Allison's room, written the message, and gotten away without anyone seeing them.

If Rocky had been on the job, Jennie reasoned, it wouldn't have happened. Unless maybe he had done it. Of course, it could have been B.J.

Mr. Beaumont must have been thinking the same thing because the moment Jennie's mind formed the name, he yelled, “Where's B.J.?”

“I'm right here,” she said, pushing off from the wall.

Jennie wondered how long she'd been there. And more importantly, how long had she been home?

“Do you know anything about this?” The harsh tone of his voice made the question sound like an accusation.

For an instant, Jennie thought she'd recognized a glint of hurt in B.J.'s eyes, but when she looked again, she saw nothing but hate.

When B.J. didn't answer, Mr. Beaumont clenched his fist and asked again. “Well, do you?”

“I don't know why you even bothered to ask. You already think I did it.” She turned and walked to the door, then spun around and glared at her father. “If you're so sure it was me, why don't you have me arrested.” B.J. disappeared down the hall, but her words hung on the now-stale air. A door slammed and the windows rattled.

For a moment Jennie thought Mr. Beaumont would explode, then suddenly, like an actor changing scenes, he cleared his throat and began giving orders. Mrs. Beaumont was to take Allison to the “master suite” to rest. He sent Rocky downstairs to his office where they would “discuss the matter” after he'd talked to B.J.

Turning to Jennie, Lisa, and Paige, Mr. Beaumont ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “I'm sorry you girls had to see this. You're welcome to stay, of course…”

“I-I think I'd like to go home.” Paige shifted from one foot to the other. Her tiny features were drawn and pale, reminding Jennie of a frightened bird. “Tell Allie I'll be back in the morning,” she said as she backed out of the room.

Mr. Beaumont nodded and lifted his gaze to Jennie and Lisa. “We'll stay,” Jennie said. “Allison might need us later.” Nothing short of dynamite could dislodge Jennie now. This was getting much too interesting, and she had too many unanswered questions.

Jennie couldn't tell how Mr. Beaumont felt about their staying. He silently ushered them out of Allison's room to a large guest room across the hall. “It would be best if everyone stays out of here for now,” he said, closing Allison's door.

“Maybe we should go too,” Lisa said as she paced across the guest room's plush white carpet. “This is all too weird. I'm sorry I got you into this.”

“Don't be. I'm not giving up until I find out what's going on around here.” Jennie rummaged through her overnight bag.

“What are you doing?” Lisa asked as she came up behind Jennie.

“Looking for something to make some notes on.” Jennie fished around and finally came up with a small spiral note pad. “Okay.” Jennie settled on the bed. Excitement coursed through her. “Let's see what we've got so far.”

Lisa dropped onto a chair and recounted some of the details of the case. Within a few minutes Jennie had listed the various floral deliveries and threatening phone calls she and Lisa knew about. Then she entered the information she had about the man with a gun from the night before and the call to Jennie's house. At the bottom she wrote, “message on mirror—red lipstick.” Jennie scooted off the bed. “C'mon.”

“Where to?”

“Allison's bathroom. I want to have another look. Maybe we can find some clues.”

“No!” Lisa spread herself across the door, blocking Jennie's way. “We can't. It's too awful. Jennie, I can't go back in there.”

Jennie nodded in understanding. “Okay. Wait here for me.”

Lisa started to object, then, as if reading the determination in her cousin's eyes, stepped aside. “All right, but I'm coming too. No way am I staying in here alone.” They crept out of the guest room and down the hall to Allison's bedroom. Jennie turned the knob and eased open the door. The room looked as perfect as when she and Lisa had first arrived. Despite the open window, a strong scent of cleaning solution assaulted their nostrils. “This is strange,” Jennie whispered. “Looks like someone's been in here and cleaned.”

Jennie knew even before she opened the bathroom door what she'd find. Nothing. Someone had wiped away every shred of evidence. “The police aren't going to like this,” Jennie said, then realized with a start they'd probably never been called.

“I'm scared, Jennie.” Lisa tugged at Jennie's shirt sleeve. “Let's get out of here.”

“I can't go yet. Something really strange is going on here, and I intend to find out what. Besides, even if the Beaumonts aren't calling the cops, I am. I want to make sure I can give them a detailed report.”

“You're right. We can't give up now. Allison needs our help more than ever.”

Using a washcloth so as not to leave any fingerprints, Jennie opened each drawer and searched through them.

“What are you looking for?” Lisa asked.

“The lipstick. I was hoping maybe whoever did it might have left it behind. It could be an important clue.” Jennie rummaged through what looked like Allison's makeup drawer. She found about a dozen tubes of lipstick, all in various shades of pink. Jennie closed the last drawer, then picked up the wastebasket. She ruffled through the trash and at the bottom found what she'd been looking for. “Hand me those tweezers,” Jennie said, pointing to an open drawer.

“Why?”

“There might be prints on it. I wonder where the cap is.”

Lisa cringed when Jennie held up the shiny gold tube with its brilliant red lipstick worn down to the nub. “You think that's the stuff he used?”

Jennie shrugged. “Allison ever use red lipstick?”

“Not that I recall.” Lisa wandered over to the open window and rubbed her arms. “What about Paige?”

“Yeah, she does sometimes.” Lisa nodded in the direction of the pool. They watched as B.J. climbed out of the pool, stretched out on a lounge chair, picked up a book, and began to read.

“Doesn't seem to be broken up about it, does she?”

Jennie asked.

“Do you think B.J. wrote the message?” Lisa asked. “I don't know.” Before the incident with B.J. and her dad, Jennie would have bet on it, but something in her face—confusion, hurt—made Jennie question her original suspicions. “It's too early to tell.” Tucking the lipstick into a plastic bag she found in one of the drawers, Jennie stepped away from the window and made another note on her pad regarding the cleanup and the red lipstick.

As she read over the notes again, she stopped with the notation about the gunman of the night before.

“Lisa,” she mused, as she tapped the end of the pen against her lips, “do you think you can remember where Mr. B.'s gun case is? I think we ought to check it out.”

Lisa led the way back to the main living area. “The gun collection is downstairs.” After opening two closets and a pantry, they found the stairs and followed them to the lower part of the house and into a long dark hallway.

“Where's a light switch?” Jennie asked in a whisper as she felt along the wall.

“I don't know. There should be a bathroom…here.” Light flooded the small room, giving them enough light to find the switches in the other rooms.

After going past an exercise room, a room that looked like a miniature movie theater, and a large storage closet, they found the den.

“This is it,” Lisa whispered as she opened the door. Jennie stepped in. The hairs on the back of her neck snapped to attention. Several pairs of eyes peered out of the darkness. A large form loomed off to her right. “There's someone—or something in here,” she yelped.

Lisa stepped up beside her and turned on the light. “Don't worry,” she reassured. “They're stuffed.”

In the light, the form Jennie had seen turned out to be a black bear standing on its hind legs, ready to attack. Jennie's gaze wandered over the room. It looked like a hunter's trophy room—an elk head held a prominent position over the fireplace; a deer, a cougar, and a couple of fish that had to be six feet long nearly covered the walls. In addition to the bear, Jennie noticed a couple of pheasants, a coyote, and several other small animals she couldn't name.

Jennie whispered, “He's got more animals in here than the zoo.”

“Allison said he used to hunt a lot.”

Beaumont's den had a forest green carpet with rich dark mahogany wood. “I wish Dad could see this.” As soon as the words slipped out, her memory kicked in.
He's
gone, McGrady.
Tears stung her eyes and Jennie quickly wiped them away. She glanced at Lisa.

“He would love it.” Lisa gave her a knowing smile and hooked her arm through Jennie's. “Come on. The gun collection is over here.”

A combination book and gun case lined an entire wall of the den. With one swift pass, Jennie found what she was looking for. A metal plate beneath the indentation that once housed a gun read 1880 Colt Lightning­ Pinkerton Detective Agency.

“You think this is the same gun the guy had the other night?” Lisa asked.

“I'm sure of it. But why? Why steal an old gun like this when it's so easy to buy them on the street?”

“Then again,” Lisa said, “why buy a gun when you've got a whole case of them right here?”

Jennie tried to undo the latch holding the doors. “Locked. Whoever took the gun either has a key or had easy access to it. This is beginning to look more and more like an inside job.”

“B.J.?”

“Or Rocky, or Mr. Beaumont.” Jennie pulled the note pad and pen out of her back pocket. “Or maybe Allison herself.”

“Not Allison,” Lisa said, shaking her head. “Don't forget, I walked upstairs with her. Paige and I were there when she found the message.”

“Yes, but while we were swimming she did go inside for a few minutes to use the bathroom.”

“That's true, but so did Paige and I.”

Jennie wrinkled her nose. “We're not getting very far. We're missing something. I just can't think what.”

Jennie entered the information about the missing gun on her note pad. “We'd better get back upstairs before someone notices we're gone.” Jennie turned to go just as the lights went out and the door clicked shut.

“M-Maybe it was the wind,” Lisa stammered.

“Shh…” Jennie put her ear to the door. “Footsteps.” She glanced at Lisa. “Definitely not the wind.”

Jennie switched on the light and pulled on the doorknob. When it wouldn't budge, panic edged in. She gasped, remembering the fire…she and Sarah trapped in that cabin…
Easy, McGrady, pull yourself together. There's no fire…this isn't Florida.

“Jennie, what is it, what's wrong?”

“I…nothing.” Jennie looked at the large wooden door. “I'm just trying to find a way out of here.” She tried to imagine herself taking a running jump, lying flat out and hitting the door with both feet, then quickly dismissed the idea. That was more Gram's speed. Jennie hadn't taken a karate lesson in her life.

She glanced over at the gun case. If she had to, she could break the glass, take out a gun, and shoot the door lock. But she wouldn't—not yet. The thought of having a way out eased her mind.

“We could call the police,” Jennie suggested, then quickly shoved that idea aside as well. This wouldn't be a good time. If they called the cops now, she and Lisa would probably be arrested for breaking and entering. Lisa, still in her swimsuit, didn't have her cell phone and Jennie never carried hers around. Not that she needed it. There was a phone sitting on Mr. Beaumont's desk.

“We could beat on the door and call for help,” Lisa said as she tried the knob again, then raised her fists.

“Wait. I have an idea.” Jennie went back to Mr. Beaumont's desk, checked the phone, and opened the drawers.

“Jennie, you shouldn't…”

She looked up at Lisa. “Do you remember Allison's cell phone number?”

One of the lights on the telephone flashed, and on impulse Jennie picked it up. When no one else answered, she said hello.

“Hi…um…Allison?” The voice sounded out of breath, or like the guy might be nervous.

“Who is this?” Jennie asked, softening her voice so she'd sound more like Allison.

“Did you get the flowers?”

Jennie almost dropped the phone. She put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to Lisa, “It's him…it's the stalker.”

Stay calm, McGrady ... keep him talking.
She took a deep breath to slow her racing heart and said, “Y-yes.”

“Good.” After a long pause, the voice said, “I thought I'd come by later tonight so we could talk.”

“Here?” Jennie could hardly think over the boom­boom of her pulse pounding in her ears. This was too weird. It didn't make sense. Still, neither did stalking people. Her first impulse was to say no.
This is your big break, McGrady. You can catch him red-handed.
“Sure…” she stammered, “that'll be fine.”

“Good. See you around ten.”

“Who is this?” she asked. But the line had gone dead.

Jennie hung up and told Lisa what the caller had said.

“That's perfect. We'll tell Allison and set a trap for him. We'll call the police and they'll nab him and it will be all over…Jennie, what's wrong?”

Jennie stroked her chin and lowered herself into Mr. B.'s soft green leather chair. “That voice…I've heard it before, but it didn't sound the same as the guy the other night…”

“Maybe he disguised his voice,” Lisa said, leaning against the desk.

“Maybe, but something about this doesn't feel right.” Jennie set the nagging feeling aside. She'd deal with it later; right now, she had to get them out of Beaumont's den. Jennie punched the number she'd just been on. Allison answered on the third ring, saying she'd just gotten back to her room.

Leaving out the part about the caller, Jennie told her what had happened and within three minutes, the door opened and Allison appeared. She looked like she'd been on a week-long crying binge. “I'm so sorry this happened. Who would lock you in here?” Allison grabbed at her throat and leaned against the wall. “He's in the house. He's…”

Jennie thought for a moment Allison was going to lose it again. She put her arms around Allison's shoulder. “I don't think so. If he was here, I'm sure he's gone now, unless…”
Unless the stalker is Rocky or B.J., or even your father
. Jennie didn't say the last part out loud. No sense in upsetting her any more—at least not right now. “Never mind,” Jennie finished. “Let's get out of here before your dad catches us in here.”

“Good idea,” Lisa said, guiding them out and closing the door. “I know it sounds terrible with so many more important things going on, but do you think we could eat dinner? I'm starved.”

The detour to food and hostessing mobilized Allison to action. She glanced at her watch. “Oh…of course, it's almost seven. That's a great idea. Let's order a pizza. We'll send Rocky over to Antonio's.”

The girls went back upstairs and spent the next few minutes putting together an order. Rocky shifted impatiently as Allison specified their pizza toppings. He clearly did not want to go, and Jennie couldn't help but wonder why. After all, he was supposed to be working for the Beaumonts.

Jennie, Lisa, Allison, and a disgruntled B.J., whom they'd found sulking in her room, took the pizza and drinks to the pool area. For the next half hour they gorged themselves. Detective work—or maybe it was being scared out of your wits—sure gave you an appetite. The four of them managed to put away a large pan pizza supreme and two pitchers of diet cola.

Reluctant to talk about the stalker, they kept the conversation on a safe level and discussed the party instead. At least Lisa and Allison did. B.J., strangely silent, stared at some spot on the other side of the pool. Was she involved in all this…and if so, to what extent? Had B.J. written the message on the mirror? Had she locked them in her dad's office? Did she know the guy was coming over? That might account for her behavior.

Soon Jennie would have to broach the subject of the stalker's visit. She'd wait as long as she could, but sooner or later, Allison would need to know about her guest. Jennie glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty. But not yet. In half an hour, she promised herself.

Jennie leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The trouble with mysteries was that there were always so many angles…so many questions.

Who would want to stalk Allison? Why would someone steal a gun from Beaumont's gun case? Why stalk Allison? Why send love notes one time and threats the next? Why write a message on Allison's mirror? Why lock her and Lisa into Beaumont's den? And why would the stalker call to announce his arrival as if he were setting up a date? It didn't make sense.

Jennie opened her eyes and caught B.J. staring at her. The girl quickly looked away then jumped to her feet. The chair she'd been sitting in clattered to the concrete floor. She stooped to pick it up. “Look…” she began. “I-I have something to tell you. I…”

Jennie leaned forward.

“Not here,” B.J. said. “Al's room.”

They silently took the remains of their dinner into the kitchen and headed upstairs. Once inside the cotton candy room, B.J. closed the door and leaned against it. “I'm the one who locked you in the den.” B.J. dropped into the chair nearest the door. As though reading the question in Jennie's mind, she added, “But I didn't write that message, I swear it. I guess I was just upset that everyone suspects me.”

Jennie opened her mouth to deny the accusation, but B.J. cut her off. “Don't bother denying it…I can see it in your eyes. Anyway, when I came in from the pool I heard you downstairs and…I don't know…I guess I just wanted to scare you or something. I'm sorry.”

“I never suspected you.” Allison came up behind B.J. and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks.” B.J. hunched her shoulders forward. “Anyway, I think I know who the stalker is.”

All talk about the den was forgotten. “Who?” the girls asked together.

B.J. straightened. Her arrogant look had returned. Jennie half expected her to say, “That's for me to know and you to find out,” or “You're the detective, you tell me.” But she didn't. She glanced at the door and whispered, “Rocky.”

Jennie let out a long breath. She'd suspected him herself, until the phone call in the den. Now it didn't seem likely—unless the call was just another ploy to scare Allison and he had no intention of showing up. “Do you have proof?” she asked.

“No—not exactly. It's just that I've been watching him. Dad hired him a couple of days after I came. There's something weird about him. He's no gardener, that's for sure. He's always snooping around.”

“That's true,” Allison said. “I catch him looking at me all the time. Part of the problem is that Dad asked him to keep an eye on me. I don't mind when we're out running around, but it certainly isn't necessary in the house.” Allison drew in a ragged breath. “He gives me the creeps.”

“Have you told your folks?” Lisa asked.

Allison nodded. “Daddy just told me I was imagining things and that Rocky came highly recommended.”

Jennie dropped into a white wicker chair with a pink pad.
Recommended by whom?
“Not that I don't trust your dad, Allison, but I'd sure like to know more about Rocky. Do you think we could find out where he lived before he moved in here?”

Allison frowned. “Dad would probably have records in his computer—or in the file cabinet in his office, but there's no way…”

“Well, never mind,” Jennie said, an idea forming in the back of her mind. “Maybe between us, we can ask the right questions. In fact…” Jennie turned to Lisa. “You'd be perfect. He hasn't really met you yet. Why don't you get him alone and ask him about his past?”

“O-o-oh.” Lisa grinned. “Undercover work. I like that.” She turned her back and looked over her right shoulder, giving the others a sultry pout. “How's this? Think he'll be so swayed by my charms he'll tell me everything?”

Jennie laughed. “He'll probably run the other way. Just act natural.”

“Look,” Allison called from the window. “There he is now—cleaning the pool.”

Jennie and B.J. hurried to the window and looked over Allison's shoulder. “Perfect. Okay, Lisa, this is it. Go on down there and pretend you're interested.”

Lisa joined them at the window and peered into the garden below. “That won't be hard. He's really cute.”

She ran out of the room and returned only seconds later with her emerald swimsuit and headed for Allison's bathroom. She stopped in the doorway. “Ah…Jennie…what about…you know.”

“Go ahead and get your suit on. I'll tell them.” “Tell us what?” B.J. asked.

Jennie told them about the phone call she'd taken earlier. “Like I said, Rocky could be involved somehow; it didn't sound like him, but who knows. He could be disguising his voice to throw us off.”

Lisa came out of the bathroom and headed for the door. “I'm ready…I guess.” She sounded reluctant and Jennie didn't blame her.

“You don't have to do this,” Jennie said.

“I know, but you're right. I'm the only one he doesn't really know. Besides, you'll be here—won't you?”

“He won't try anything with a house full of people,” B.J. assured.

Jennie gave Lisa the same assurance, but as she stood at the window with the others, she offered up a prayer just in case.