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Authors: Fern Michaels

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BOOK: Finders Keepers
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Whimpering, Thea climbed from the car and on rubbery legs walked over to the cooler. Instead of looking down into the red ice-filled cooler, she raised her eyes to see a rusty pink stroller nailed to the wall next to a frayed and tattered rope. She reached out for the edge of the cooler before she dropped to the ground in a dead faint.
Barnes took his time walking over to where his wife lay on the ground. He dipped his snowy white handkerchief into the ice water in the cooler and let it dribble down her face. She sputtered to wakefulness.
“Time to get up, Thea. Here's your cream soda. They're deposit bottles, so you have to drink it here and leave the bottle. How much do I owe you?” he asked the elderly man who had pumped his gas.
“Eight dollars and twelve cents will do it and a quarter for the pop. You folks just passing through?”
“You could say that.”
“I seen you lookin' at that there stroller hanging on the wall. A little girl was kidnapped right here at this station, a long time ago. That there rope belonged to the dog that tried to save the little girl. The dog died a little while back. They never did find the little girl. The case ain't closed. Don't 'spect it ever will be closed. Them FBI fellers come by once or twice a year to check on things. Nothing like that ever happened in Ashton Falls before and probably won't ever happen agin. Is your missus feelin' better now? Looks a bit peaked.”
“Female problems,” Barnes said in a low voice as he fired up a fresh cigar. “Where do you put the empties?”
“Jest sit it on top. I cleaned your windshield. They tell me city folks like to get their windows cleaned. No charge.”
“Thank you very much,” Barnes said.
“Yes, thank you,” Thea managed to say as she staggered to the car where she hunched herself into the corner.
“Why did you do that, Barnes? You were never a cruel man. Why?”
“I did it for you, Thea. I know it was a shock. Now we are going back home and pick up our lives. The next time those ‘FBI fellers,' ” he said, mimicking the old man, “come around, he's going to remember the lady that fainted under the stroller and mention it. I am as guilty as you are, Thea. I'm not trying to absolve myself. I simply don't understand how I allowed you to do the things you did all those years. I guess I was a coward. I saw how happy you were, but I also saw how unhappy Jessie was. I wish I could tell you how many times I wanted to take her out of her bed in the middle of the night and return her to Ashton Falls. Sending all that money to her family didn't make the guilt go away. We are both miserable excuses for human beings. I want some semblance of a normal life now that Jessie's gone. With or without you, Thea. By the way, we're going home now.”
Her voice quaking with fear, Thea whispered, “What did you mean when you said Jessie wasn't coming back? Did you mean after the party or next week?”
“I mean she isn't coming back. Period. She's had enough of the both of us. I think sometime soon she's going to remember what happened that day. I know I've said it before, but the feeling grows stronger each day. We should start to think about moving so if that day does happen, we won't be around to be arrested. Neither one of us would do well in prison, Thea. I've been thinking about Spain.”
“I think you're losing your mind, Barnes. Jessie would never leave us. We're her parents.”
“She left us. She's not going to Georgia Tech, I'll bet my last penny on it. When she said good-bye it was good-bye in every sense of the word.”
“I don't want to hear talk like that, Barnes.”
“The reason you don't want to hear it, Thea, is because you know it's true. You've been in a state of denial for so long you don't know what the word truth means any longer.”
“She's in Atlanta. When we get home we can call her, and I'll ask her point-blank.” Thea's voice was pitiful when she said, “I finally figured out why you're so cruel to me. You've never forgiven me for not being able to give you children. You need to blame God for that, not me.”
“That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said to me.”
Thea ignored him and spent the remainder of the trip home crying into soggy tissues. Barnes winced at the litter on the floor.
It was almost dawn when Thea tiptoed into her husband's room. He was snoring lightly. Satisfied that he wouldn't hear her, she crept downstairs and out to the parked car. She was going to Atlanta.
 
Twice she almost fell asleep at the wheel. Most of her energy gone, Thea pulled off the highway for strong black coffee three different times. Her adrenaline kicked in when she approached the Buckhead area where Jessie had gone to visit. When she parked the car behind Sophie's racy sports car, she was still trying to figure out why Barnes had said such ugly things to her. Jessie's car was nowhere to be seen. A quick glance at her watch told Thea it was a little after eleven. All the stopping and starting had delayed her by an hour and a half.
She knew this house as well as she knew her own. She let herself in the unlocked front door and made her way up the steps. The sickening smell of flowers and stale alcohol and cigarette smoke followed her. No one seemed to be stirring. She wondered if her old friend Janice was in residence or was off on some jaunt.
Thea opened the door to the room Jessie had always stayed in, a huge smile on her face. The room was neat and tidy, with no sign of an occupant. She moved to the connecting door and opened it. Sophie was sprawled across the bed in her underwear. Thea checked out the bathroom. Her daughter was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes started to burn. Was Barnes right?
“Sophie, wake up,” Thea said, shaking the girl's shoulder.
“Mrs. Roland! My God, what are you doing here?”
“I'm looking for Jessie. Where is she? I didn't see her car.”
Sophie yawned elaborately. She detested this wild-eyed woman standing in front of her. “The reason you didn't see her car is because Jessie isn't here. She left after she talked to you yesterday.”
“Left? Where did she go? Don't lie to me, Sophie.”
Sophie shrugged. “I don't know where she went.”
“We both know that's a lie. I know all about how you two girls shared secrets. If Jessie went someplace, she would tell you.”
“There's a first time for everything. You look tired, Mrs. Roland. Would you like some breakfast or perhaps take a nap.”
“I don't want either one. What time did she leave?”
“I wasn't really paying attention. Noon, perhaps a little later. What time did she call you? She left right after that.”
“Why? Why would she do that? She was looking forward to your party.”
“I think you need to ask yourself why she left, Mrs. Roland, since she made the decision to leave after she spoke with you.”
“I'm calling the state police. They'll find her and bring her back.”
Sophie bit down on her bottom lip. More than anything she wanted to tell this woman what she thought of her. “Do what you have to do, Mrs. Roland. I'm going to take a shower. Stay as long as you like. I'm leaving for school as soon as I get dressed. It was nice seeing you again.”
Thea Roland waited for three days before she made the return trip to Charleston. She walked like a frail old lady, her eyes red-rimmed with all the tears she'd shed. It was her husband's cold whispered words that sent her flying to her bedroom, where she stayed another three days. Over and over his words drummed through her head. “Now, Thea, you know what those people felt like when you took their daughter away from them. This is your just punishment.”
A week to the day of Barnes's ominous words to his wife, the Rolands left for Spain.
5
Jessie's gaze swept around the motel room. It was spartan but clean and neat, absolutely unlike the five-star hotel suites her parents always chose when the family took a trip. She liked the small out-of-the-way motel with soda machines on each floor and the small fragrant coffee shop off the main lobby. The towels were coarse but snow-white, the soap sweet-smelling.
Her hair still damp from the shower, Jessie finished dressing. She looked forward to ordering a hearty breakfast in the coffee shop. If she wanted greasy bacon or sausage topped off with sawmill gravy, there was no one to tell her a fruit cup and Shredded Wheat with skim milk would do nicely. She might even buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke them, one after the other, while she drank four cups of coffee. She could dawdle all she wanted as long as she left a generous tip. She could buy the local paper and read it while she had her first cup of coffee.
Freedom was heavenly.
Jessie left the motel, put her bags in the Jeep, paid her bill, and had one of the best breakfasts in her life. It was noon when she remembered her promise to call Sophie. The last road sign had said there was a rest stop thirty miles down the interstate. That was okay. Sophie would probably still be sleeping off her party.
Forty minutes later, mindful of Sophie's warning to drive the speed limit, Jessie pulled off the exit road that led to the Windjammer Rest Stop. She used the rest room, then ordered two hamburgers, french fries, and a large Coke. While she waited for her food, she dialed the number of the blue phone in Sophie's bedroom.
“How was the party, Sophie?”
“Never mind the party, Jess. Your mother is here. She called me a liar. She knows I know where you are. Don't worry, I didn't say a thing. I'm out of here as soon as I finish packing. She's going to call the police to be on the lookout for you. Pile your hair on top and jam a hat on top of your head. Be sure to wear your sunglasses. They won't spot you in a million years. For whatever this is worth, I don't think I've ever seen your mother look so ragged. Your father isn't with her. Where are you? Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. I slept like a baby last night. I ate this monster breakfast, and I'm going to eat a huge lunch. I'm in some little town right on the border between Virginia and North Carolina. I stopped when I got tired. I'm going to drive to Washington, D.C., and spend the night there. Tomorrow I'll start out for New York. I'm in no hurry.” Jessie's voice turned wistful. “Was the party a success?”
Sophie picked up on the wistful sound of Jessie's voice. “It was like all the other parties. We danced all night. The food was all gone. No one drank that much, so there were no fights. I think it broke up around three or so. No, we did not go skinny-dipping in case you're wondering. Listen, Jess, call me tomorrow when you're ready to leave Washington. Maybe you should stay on an extra day or so and do some sight-seeing. You'll love Washington. It's another way of saying the trail will grow colder if you aren't on the highway. Kick back a little, Jess. You earned it. Are you nervous?”
“Not at all. I wish you were with me, though.”
“If you ever really need me, Jess, send up a flare. I belong to your old life. You have a new life now, so don't look back. I'll handle things here. Don't forget to call me at my apartment back at school. I want you to promise to check in every day until you're settled in New York.”
“Okay, Sophie. Drive carefully. Do the speed limit and don't pick up any hitchhikers.”
“That's my line. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”
Jessie paid for her lunch and ate it in the car as the Jeep tooled down the interstate, the radio blasting at full volume.
Next stop: the nation's capital.
 
She'd done it all, seen everything the most famous city in the world had to offer. She'd taken tours with other tourists, walked neighborhoods to get a feel for the real people versus the politicians of the city, and then she'd taken the Jeep to drive around the city and the outlying areas on her own. She'd gotten lost more times than she cared to remember. She'd even treated herself to a picnic lunch in Rock Creek Park. Twice she'd gone to Georgetown University to walk around the campus and talk to the people in the admissions office. There was no doubt in her mind that she could enroll in the prestigious university for the next semester if she wanted to. The big question was, did she want to? The game plan called for New York; switching at this late date probably wouldn't be wise.
She loved the power and history of the city. She toyed with the idea of getting a job and taking night courses. Was that wise? Probably not. Better not to disturb the status quo. But instead of paying attention to her concerns, Jessie turned to the classified section of the
Washington Star.
While her knowledge of the city was limited, she at least had a vague idea of the different areas as she searched out apartment rentals and job opportunities. All the job ads required experience. How was one supposed to get experience if no one would hire you? Sophie would know. Without stopping to think, Jessie placed a call to Sophie, who picked up on the first ring.
“Sophie, it's me. I want to switch plans but I need your help. Tell me what you think of this idea.” Fifteen minutes later, Jessie wound down as she waited, hardly daring to breathe, for her friend's response.
“I think it's a great idea. I knew you were going to love Washington. Let me get my thoughts together. I think, Jess, that you should work on the Hill. My mother knows some very influential people in Washington. When I was little, the senator from our district used to come to our house. Mother went to school with him. I could call him and ask if there are any jobs available. In this world it's not what you know but who you know. If you're really interested, I can get you a resume that will blow their socks off. We can fudge a little here, hedge a little there. No one really checks those things anyway. If Senator Timrod vouches for you, you are in, my dear. Do you think you would like working for a senator or a congressman?”
“Would I ever. Yes, I would.”
“Okay, this is what you do. Go shopping. Buy some nifty clothes while I work on this. Don't stint either. Get a new hairdo and make sure it's fashionable. You're sure, Jessie, this is what you want?”
Was it? “Yes, Sophie, it's what I want.”
“All right but this is going to take a little time. I have to switch everything from New York. What about school? Our educations are paramount.”
“I'll go nights.”
“Be sure you do. Working and going to school isn't going to be easy. I'm glad we didn't do anything with your trust-fund monies. Check out the banks and let me know which one you want to use. I'll call you the day after tomorrow. My decks are clear here. I registered yesterday, so my time is my own until Monday. I bet I could do this for a living if I wanted to. Hanging out my first year at college with what my mother called ‘undesirables' gave me a slight edge on how to get things done when you don't want other people to know your business. My father might not have been a driving force in my life, but he knew how to wheel and deal. I guess I inherited his instincts. Too bad I want to build bridges.”
Jessie's voice grew jittery. “I don't want to do anything illegal.”
“There's illegal and then there's illegal. I'll keep it in mind. I know exactly how to do this. If anyone wants to run a background check on you for any reason, I'll fix it with one of my mother's companies to cover for you. I'll set up a whole file. It's not as though you're assuming a new identity or anything like that. You're still going to be Jessie Roland. That isn't going to change unless you get married. As long as you pay your taxes and don't cheat the government, I don't see anything wrong with what we're contemplating. The social security number now is . . . a tad iffy. People do this all the time I'm told. I read
True Crime Reporting
on a monthly basis. You would be amazed at the helpful hints they give out for just this kind of situation. If you want to change your mind, now is the time to do it before I get this all under way.”
“No. I'm okay with all of it. My parents will never suspect I work for the government. Right now that's all I care about. If you work for a senator or a congressman, what do you do?”
“I don't have the foggiest idea. You're talking to a girl who has never held a job in her life. I'll find out when I call Senator Timrod. Whatever it is, you can handle it. Probably social stuff, you know, making appointments to get their hair cut, arranging luncheons, sending flowers to their wives. Opening the mail. Maybe some typing. Junk like that. You have wonderful social skills, and you're an excellent typist. That report you typed for me last year didn't have one mistake. Working on the Hill probably pays very well, too. When a scandal breaks you'll be one of the first to hear it. Make sure you call me right away if you hear something because I love political gossip and scandals. You get off for all the government holidays and when it snows. It's got to be a breeze of a job. Give me a yes or no right now.”
“I love this city, Sophie. I feel very comfortable here. Yes, yes.”
“Okay, hang up so I can get started. Whoever would have thought you, Jessica Roland, and me, Sophie Ashwood, were into subterfuge? If your mother could only see us now.”
“I don't want to talk about my mother, Sophie, not now, not ever.”
“Okay, I hear what you're saying. This is the last time I'll bring up your mother's name. I called home, and the housekeeper told me your mother stayed three whole days before she finally left. She didn't eat a thing the whole time, and she didn't sleep in any of the beds. There weren't any wet towels, so I have to assume she didn't take a shower either. That's pretty sad, Jessie. Wouldn't it be nice if we had mothers we could call Mom. I always wanted to do that. I know you did, too. Listen, there is one other thing before we lay this to rest. Why did your father give you a Catholic St. Christopher's medal? I only know that because it says so on the medal. The medal bothers me, and I don't know why. Southern Baptists do not buy Catholic medals. Maybe you were left on someone's doorstep, and it was around your neck. Think about that one, Jessie Roland!”
Jessie hooted with laughter. “Call me when you have things all set. I'm going to go out to look for an apartment. Thanks for everything, Sophie.”
“My pleasure.”
 
Five days later, Jessie Roland moved into a three-room furnished apartment at 1755 Kilbourne Place in Mount Pleasant, within walking distance of Rock Creek Park. The small, cozy apartment was only a few blocks from the bus line that with transfers would take her anyplace in the city. She also registered to take six credits in the evening at Georgetown University. The only thing she didn't have was a job, but according to Sophie it was just a matter of days until Senator Timrod could line something up for her.
The call arranging the interview came on a Tuesday morning just hours after Jessie's phone was hooked up. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded old and querulous. The reedy voice said an interview was scheduled with Senator Angus Kingsley himself, the senior senator from Texas, in his offices in the Rayburn Building promptly at two o'clock.
Jessie looked at the clock. She had less than three hours to prepare. She was a whirlwind then, picking and choosing from her new wardrobe. Should she drive herself, take the bus, or opt for a taxi? She finally decided on a taxi since she was unsure of the transfer route and she needed to be on time.
Mindful of Sophie's admonition that less is more, she carefully applied her makeup. The object, according to Sophie, was to look like you weren't wearing makeup. Would the day ever come when she could do things on her own and not depend on Sophie and her special brand of wisdom? Of course it would. She just needed patience.
Jessie stood back from the long mirror she'd purchased at Woolworth's to examine her appearance with a critical eye. The hunter green suit was the perfect color to complement her eyes. The white-silk blouse with the narrow tie at the throat was definitely feminine. Small pearl earrings, also from Woolworth's, along with her Timex watch, were her only jewelry. The small black-leather purse matched her shoes, which she knew were going to give her a blister on her little toe before the day was over. She took a deep breath.
I know I can do this. I
want to do this. I will do this.
“If I'm lucky by this time tomorrow, I might be a working girl in this city. An independent working girl. I can learn to be frugal, to make it on my own.” Sophie said talking to oneself was a dangerous pastime. Jessie stuck her tongue out at her reflection. Then she giggled. “Please, God, let this work for me.”
 
He was a tall, pleasant-looking man with clear blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He was impeccably dressed, his crisp shirt whiter than milk. Jessie thought she could see her reflection in his shiny black shoes. When he folded his hands in front of him, she noticed that his nails were clipped short and manicured.
BOOK: Finders Keepers
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