Too Close to Home Page 23

  Patty wrinkled a lightly freckled nose. “No way. That’s so not my thing and you know it.”

  Jenna gave a little laugh. “Well, I can’t say it’s mine either, but I’m going.”

  “This is so not cool.”

  Rolling her eyes, Jenna wondered how she’d put up with Patty this long. The girl was really starting to get on her nerves. “Patty, go home. Or wherever. I’m going to go chill out next to a fire and roast marshmallows, sing songs, or whatever they do at these things. I’m going to forget my life for a while. Now give me my phone.”

  She held her hand out. Patty had been messing with the device and Jenna wondered if she’d have to fix her screen saver back to the picture she’d snuck of Bradley. She looked at the screen. Nope. His gorgeous face peered back at her. The one guy at school she was interested in and he just didn’t seem the least bit interested in her. How depressing. And she couldn’t figure out why. Maybe she should just ask him. What would he do if she walked up to him bold as you please and asked. Jenna shuddered at the thought. No way.

  She shoved the phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “I’ll see you tomorrow night if you want. We can go get some ice cream or something.”

  “Fine,” Patty huffed. “Go be with those losers. See if I care. I’ve got something better to do anyway.”

  “What?”

  “None of your business.”

  “You’re such a snot.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Call me if you get bored and I’ll drive up to get you.”

  Jenna gave her friend a small smile. “So, you don’t hate me?”

  “Not much. A little maybe.”

  Laughing, she pushed Patty ahead of her out the bedroom door. “Come on and walk me down.”

  All laughter ceased as she watched Patty drive away. Jenna’s reasons for wanting to go on this trip came rushing back double time as she once again caught sight of the man her father had hired to protect her, sitting in his car across the street.

  Yes, she’d made the right decision to get away from it all. No doubt about it. Maria’s mother waited in the driveway.

  “Bye, Grandma, Grandpa, see you tomorrow.”

  Connor slammed the last drawer shut. “Nothing. It’s clean.”

  “I told you I had nothing to hide. What is it you think I’ve done?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Abbott, I can’t share the details of that with you right now. We already have a team searching your office. If we don’t find anything there, then I suppose we owe you a huge apology.”

  “All right”—the man bristled—“I really must draw the line here. I’ve tried to be cooperative, answered your questions, put up no resistance to your search. But now, you’re done.”

  Samantha eyed him. “Actually, we have a warrant for the office too. So, if you’ll excuse us . . .”

  “Victoria?” Mr. Abbott called to his wife.

  She glided back into the room. “Yes?”

  “I’ll be down at the office. They have a search warrant for that too.”

  Expressionless, the woman nodded and returned to wherever she’d come from.

  Jefferson Abbott led the way out the door and rode with Connor and Samantha. Fifteen minutes later, they’d acquired two uniformed officers and Dakota. Everyone followed the lawyer onto the elevator. At the third floor, they stepped off and headed left. Jefferson stopped at the second door on the right and swiped a card across the beam. Once inside, Samantha decided the office felt like a vacuum if you discounted the team ready to participate in the search. Empty and waiting, not the busy hive of activity she’d, for some reason, expected.

  Samantha wondered out loud, “I thought lawyers put in weekend hours.”

  Jefferson quirked a small smile. “Not necessarily. Big law firms in bigger cities? Sure. Here? Every once in a while. Come on in.”

  Neat, organized—plush. The office reeked of money. Samantha looked at Connor, who didn’t seem fazed in the least. He went straight to the file cabinet and got to work.

  Jefferson settled himself in the chair on the other side of the desk. “If you people would just tell me what you’re looking for, I could probably save you a lot of time and energy.”

  Connor turned and sighed. “We need to see your adoption records for the last fifteen months.”

  The man laughed, but there was a definite lack of humor in the sound. “Are you kidding? Those records are closed.”

  “And my search warrant is the magic word to open them.” He nodded. “Please?”

  “Fine.” The word came out through gritted teeth, but he complied.

  Connor rubbed his face as the man gathered the files. “You don’t keep this stuff on the computer?”

  “Yes, but we also have hard copies. Sometimes we get reference letters, correspondence, medical records, and whatnot that we have to keep up with. Hence, the old-fashioned record keeping and the filing system.”

  “Right. Show me the Steadwell file, will you? That seems like the logical place to start.”

  Abbott handed it over.

  Samantha peered over Connor’s shoulder as he thumbed through it. “That receipt’s not in there.”

  “I noticed.” He turned to Jefferson. “Shouldn’t a copy of that receipt be in the file?”

  “Of course.” He got up and took the file from Connor. Placing it on his desk, he methodically went through every paper in the folder. “I don’t understand.” Confusion crinkled his forehead. “We keep everything together. The one that you found, was it the original?”

  “No, it was a copy.”

  “Then, the original should be in here.” He shut the file and sat down. “I . . . I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sorry.”

  Connor paced, thinking. Wondering where to go after this. He turned back to the officers still searching. “Keep working, people. Samantha, you coming with me? We’ve got a couple to interview.” He looked at Dakota. “We’re going to find the Steadwells.”

  “I’ve got this covered,” Dakota said. “I’ll also see that Mr. Abbott gets home.”

  “Thanks.”

  Samantha followed Connor into the elevator and out the building. Connor was already on his cell working to get in touch with the Steadwells.

  The Agent stood in the shadow of the plastic ficus tree, head bent, eyes watchful. Everything was spiraling out of control. He’d texted Jenna the address and time, but she had replied saying she wouldn’t meet him tonight. She wanted to postpone it. Then almost immediately after that, she said she’d changed her mind. Yes, she would meet him.

  He’d decided against the little café he enjoyed so much. Somewhere different. He’d had to find a new place since the one he normally frequented was now under surveillance. But he’d scoped this place out and it would do the trick. He also knew where the security cameras were and where to sit in order to minimize his exposure.

  He thought about the other café where he’d ditched Sydney’s cell phone. Sydney. One of the two girls who’d failed him. Sydney and Miranda. Miranda had been easy to dispose of. To kill. She’d aborted her own baby. Fury filled him at the thought, and he snorted, forced himself not to think of her. She hadn’t earned the right to occupy a place in his thoughts.

  But Sydney . . . she’d simply failed to fulfill her destiny. Failed to carry a child full term. She’d aborted almost as soon as she’d gotten pregnant. Three times. After the third time, he’d realized she wasn’t one of the deserving ones.

  As a result, she would be eternally punished. Never to be found. Never to be honored in death by those who loved her. He’d decided against sending a note to tell them where he’d hidden her. It was much more fun to watch them squirm in wonder and frustration as they struggled with their fruitless search.

  And now Jenna.

  He had special plans for her. That father of hers was proving quite annoying. Nothing seemed to scare him off. Not even having a killer show up at his kid’s school had derailed the man from the case. And Samantha, she’d jumped right into the inve
stigation. At first, he’d been a tad worried that she would be a problem, but had quickly come to the conclusion that while they both were causing him problems, the detective was the one that would cause him the most grief. And he was the one who needed to be taken care of. The solution to The Agent’s problem should be walking through the glass door any moment now. He sighed and checked his watch. She’d better be on time.

  The doors opened, and a family of four walked in. Restless energy suffused him. He really needed to get the girl and hurry back. But he forced himself to be still, to wait patiently, be invisible to those around him.

  A dark-haired teen approached the restaurant. Ah, there she was. He straightened, pulled the ball cap lower around his ears. Time to throw out the line. And reel in his catch.

  It was as simple as that.

  24

  Jenna stepped out of the church van and looked around. Beautiful. It wouldn’t get dark until around nine o’clock. Plenty of time to drink in the vastness surrounding her. The campground held tents of various shapes and sizes. The RV park was within shouting distance. The showers and toilets resided behind the dark wooden structure to her left.

  A pay phone captured her attention. She looked at her cell. Very low signal. She wondered if she could text from up here. Probably. Sometimes a text went through when a call itself would fail. But . . .

  Who cared? She was here, she was free.

  “So, what do you think? Glad you came?”

  Jenna smiled at Maria. “Definitely. I needed this.”

  “I think we all did.”

  “True.” But she wanted to say, “Not as bad as I did.” But that would sound pretty selfish, so she kept her lips closed. The sound of a rushing river pulled her to the left. Maria followed.

  “How’s your father doing? With Andrew’s death and all. I know they were partners.”

  Jenna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, Maria, I don’t want to be rude, but I came on this trip to get away from all of that. I don’t want to talk about my dad, Andrew, or any other icky or sad topic. I’m here to forget my life for the next few hours.”

  Maria lifted an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Sure.”

  Relief filled Jenna. “Thanks.”

  “Wanna go wading?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Let’s help get stuff set up so we can head down to the river.”

  The girls made their way back to help set up camp, but the four chaperones who’d accompanied them shooed the teenagers away. “Go enjoy yourself.”

  Jenna, Maria, a teen by the name of Spike, and the biggest surprise of the day, Bradley Fox, let out a cheer. “To the river!”

  Jenna brought her backpack that held her towel, sunscreen, and a bottle of water. Her collection of key chains rattled as she walked, and she smiled at the racket. Her dad complained about the noise, but Jenna knew he didn’t really care that she kept them. Her mother had given her every one of them.

  “So, Bradley,” she initiated conversation as they walked. “I didn’t know you came to this church.”

  “I don’t. I’m a friend of Spike’s. His dad and mine work together and he invited me along. I didn’t have anything better to do, so—” he shrugged—“here I am.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Bradley gave her a long, measured look, then he smiled. “Yeah, me too.”

  Jenna tossed her backpack to the ground and pulled out her water bottle. Then she slid out of her flip-flops and stepped into the river. The current flowed swift and hard. She almost lost her footing, but a strong hand on her arm kept her upright.

  Turning, she smiled at Bradley. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He helped her over to a large rock where they sat side by side, dangling their feet into the water. “So, how long have you been going to this church?”

  “Hmm. I don’t actually go there. I visited last week, then the shooting happened . . .”

  “Yeah, I heard about that. I didn’t realize you were there, though.”

  “My dad’s the one investigating the case.”

  Realization lit his eyes. “Is that why you have a shadow following you everywhere at school?”

  Cutting her eyes at him, she gave him a little grin. “Noticed that, did you?” She shrugged. “Yeah, but I haven’t seen him lately. Maybe he decided nothing was going to happen up here in the boonies.”

  “Are you scared?”

  Jenna looked down into the water. Was she? “No, not really. Not for me anyway. It’s my dad he wants.” She raised her eyes back to Bradley’s. “That scares me. I’ve already lost my mom . . .”

  She looked away again, unable to believe she was opening up to this guy like she was. Forcing a smile, she stood. “Come on, let’s wade.”

  The next hour and a half passed in a blur of splashing and laughing. Jenna felt the weight of depression, sorrow, and worry fall from her shoulders as she frolicked like a little kid again.

  Maria proved herself true and didn’t bring up any touchy subjects. Instead, Jenna learned about the girl’s background. That her parents were missionaries and Maria’s goal was to follow in their footsteps. Her love of God touched something deep in the recesses of Jenna’s heart. In fact, Maria reminded her of Samantha in that regard. Interesting.

  Tired, yet relaxed in a way she hadn’t been since before her mother died, she flopped onto her towel and laughed at the others’ antics.

  Out of habit, she pulled out her phone and checked it. She had two text messages. The first was from her dad asking if she was all right. She answered that she was fine.

  The next text message made a liar out of her. She wasn’t fine. Patty’s text said, “Met Danny. He was mad you weren’t here, but glad to meet me. Wants me to see his studio. Going with. C U later.”

  What? But she’d canceled that meeting.

  And Patty had been playing with her phone before they left.

  Jenna scrolled back through her sent messages. And there it was. Patty, the little sneak, had sent a message saying Jenna had changed her mind and would meet him.

  All of Jenna’s tension rolled back onto her shoulders. She started to reply to Patty, to blast the girl for doing something so careless—never mind the fact that she herself had seriously considered it—when another text flashed back on her screen. Another one from Patty. This time nausea swirled. “Get help. Danny is a—”

  She never finished the message. She’d hit the send button fast. Which meant her friend was in danger.

  Jenna dialed her dad’s number, but the call wouldn’t go through. She jumped up, rustled up some change from the bottom of her backpack, and ran to the pay phone.

  Fingers shaking, she dialed his number and got his voice mail. In a rush, she blurted, “Dad, Patty’s in trouble. She’s gone to meet a guy named Danny who she met online and I think she needs help. They were meeting at some coffee shop on Chester Street. I don’t know if she’s still there, but you’ve got to . . .” Jenna trailed off and sighed. Her dad was busy. He’d never stop what he was doing to find Patty. Not when he was busy looking for a killer.

  Jenna hung up and dug out more change.

  Connor heard his phone ringing from somewhere near the vicinity of his feet, but couldn’t stop yet to grab it. He’d dropped it when he’d pulled into the Steadwells’ drive practically on two wheels.

  Absently, he noted the place looked deserted. Great. He opened his door, then knelt down to snatch the phone from the floorboard. Looked at it. An unknown number had called.

  Samantha climbed out and headed for the front door. He listened to his voice mail and froze, heart thumping in sudden fear. At the end of the message, he immediately dialed the number Jenna had called from.

  “Sam, get back in the car.”

  She looked back at him, a frown marring her forehead. Shrugging, she loped down the front steps and looked at him, questions churning in her steady blue gaze.

  “Dad? Dad, is that you?”

  Relief nearly sucked the stren
gth from his knees. “Jenna, what’s going on?”

  “You’ve got to get over to that coffee shop on Chester Street.”

  Connor flipped the phone to speaker so Samantha could hear. They both climbed back into the car as Jenna continued.

  “Patty’s meeting this guy named Danny who she met online. And I think he’s dangerous. She sent me a text message that said, ‘Get help.’”

  “Where’s your bodyguard?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. He was sitting in front of the house when we left, but I don’t remember seeing him behind the van driving up here. I just figured he decided I was safe with this group, but now . . .” They were about thirty minutes outside of the city. “I called a cab, Dad, I’m coming home.”

  “No!” Connor shouted as he headed toward Main Street. “You stay put.”

  “She’s my friend, I’m coming.”

  Hearing the stubbornness in his daughter’s voice, Connor wanted to swear. He knew she’d be in that cab the minute it arrived if he didn’t do something. Then again, leaving Jenna up there with unsuspecting, innocent potential victims probably wasn’t a good thing. If that guy decided to show up and grab Jenna and one of the church people tried to defend her . . .

  “I’ll send someone to pick you up. I don’t want you alone.” And that someone would make sure Jenna was nowhere near any of the trouble going on around here.

  “Fine, I’ll wait here, but just hurry, will you?”

  Samantha looked at him. “I can call Tom.”

  Connor nodded. “Do it.” He couldn’t ask for better protection than a former fed.

  Samantha got on her cell and made the arrangements, then nodded to Connor. “He was working his security guard job, but is getting off work immediately and will be on his way within minutes.”

  Samantha got back on her phone, trying to track down the Steadwells. She worked on the computer in the squad car, internet access compliments of the broadband card. “I’ve got two numbers for the Steadwells.”

  She rattled them off and Connor dialed as he drove. Again, he put the phone on speaker for Samantha’s benefit. It rang four times, then went to voice mail. The next number did the same.