Abandoned

  ABANDONED

  Patricia H. Rushford

  Copyright © 1999 by Patricia Rushford

  First e-book copyright © 2014 by Blackstone Audio, Inc.

  All rights reserved

  Trade: 978-1-4829-9400-1

  Library: 978-1-4829-9399-8

  PATRICIA RUSHFORD is an award-winning writer, speaker, and teacher who has published numerous articles and more than thirty books, including What Kids Need Most in a Mom, The Jack and Jill Syndrome: Healing for Broken Children, and Have You Hugged Your Teenager Today? She is a registered nurse and has a master’s degree in counseling from Western Evangelical Seminary. She and her husband, Ron, live in Washington State and have two grown children, eight grandchildren, and lots of nephews and nieces.

  Pat has been reading mysteries for as long as she can remember and is delighted to be writing a series of her own. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Romance Writers of America, and several other writing organizations. She is also the codirector of Writer’s Weekend at the Beach.

  1

  “He’s going to kill me.” Jennie McGrady hurried down the hall to Mr. Baker’s office. She was ten minutes late for her appointment to discuss her upcoming science project and to get next week’s assignment.

  “Jennie, wait up.”

  Jennie stopped at the door and turned toward the familiar voice. “Hi, Annie. What’s up?”

  Annie Phillips gave her a half smile and hurried toward her. Her shiny ink black hair bounced on her shoulders as she ran. “I need to talk to you.”

  Her blue gaze darted around the near empty hallway as though she was afraid of being overheard. Most of the kids were in classes, and Annie was obviously late for hers. She looked up at Jennie, who was about a head taller. “Do you have a minute?”

  Jennie glanced inside the office, where Mr. Baker sat at his desk, waiting for her. “Not right now. I’m late. How about after school?” Jennie had planned on going home after her appointment, but Annie seemed eager to talk. “I could hang around for a while—I need to use the library anyway. I could give you a ride home.”

  “I was going to meet Shawn, but I guess I can see him later.”

  “We could get together tomorrow—”

  “No! That may be too late. This is important. Allison said I should talk to you. She said if anyone could help, it would be you. Lisa told me the same thing.”

  “I thought I heard someone.” Mr. Baker stepped out of his office and turned to Annie. “Did you need something? I have an appointment with Jennie right now, but I’ll be glad to—”

  “No. Um …” She flashed a hall pass. “I was just on my way to the office to pick up some papers for Mrs. Adams. I saw Jennie and stopped to say hello. I … I’d better go.” Annie backed away. “I’ll meet you out front after school, Jennie.” She turned and hurried back in the direction she’d come.

  Jennie stared after the petite figure. “She seems upset about something.”

  “I noticed that in class today. Probably nervous about whether she’ll be elected Fall Festival Queen.”

  “Hmm.” Jennie doubted that but didn’t say so. What she’d seen in Annie’s eyes was not anxiety about the possibility of her reigning over the fall festivities, but something far more serious. A lump settled in the pit of her stomach as her intuition started sending out warning signals. Jennie had no idea what Annie wanted to talk about. She did know one thing, though—Annie was afraid of something … or someone.

  2

  “Jennie?”

  “Um … oh, right.” Jennie reluctantly shifted her attention to the teacher. “Mr. Baker, I’m sorry I’m late. Nick is home sick today, and I had to stay with him until Mom came home. She was late coming back, and to top it off, there was a huge backup on the freeway by the Oregon City exit.”

  He laughed. “It’s all right, Jennie. Your mother called and said you were running late. It’s not a problem. I was just grading papers. Speaking of which …” He smiled, and his warm brown gaze twinkled from deep-set eyes on a narrow face. Mr. Baker had the lean look of a vegetarian—tall, with a lot of brain and not much muscle. “The one you did on acid rain was excellent.”

  “Thanks.” Jennie ducked her head and smiled.

  “I especially liked the interview with the head of the environmental agency. Nice touch. A lot of kids forget that they can use real people in their research.”

  “That was the fun part. I actually interviewed him on the Internet.” Jennie’s parents had finally given in to her request and set her up with a modem and an online service. She loved it, especially email.

  “You really ought to think about going into the sciences, Jennie.” He led her into his cramped office and sat in a cushioned executive chair with wheels, then motioned Jennie to sit in the worn but serviceable straight-backed wooden chair in front of the desk. A makeshift bookcase overflowed with reference books. Boxes of files sat on the floor waiting to be tucked into the three-drawer metal file cabinet. “You have a passion for this sort of thing.”

  Jennie shrugged and gave her usual answer. “I’ll think about it.” Though she enjoyed all of her subjects, her real passion was for law enforcement. She planned to become a lawyer and maybe someday a real detective. She loved the idea of following in her grandparents’ and father’s footsteps. They’d all worked in various law enforcement agencies. Her father had recently left the Drug Enforcement Agency and taken a job as a homicide detective with the Portland police.

  “So, Jennie.” Mr. Baker handed her the paper she’d aced and leaned forward, resting his thin arms on his desk. “What are your plans for the science project?”

  “I’m doing it on fetal development. My mom is pregnant, so I thought I’d monitor her progress.”

  “Yes, I heard about that. How is she doing?”

  “She had a few rough weeks with morning sickness and everything, but she’s a lot better.”

  “Good. How are you feeling about the homeschool situation this year? Are you keeping up?”

  “Sure.”

  “There was some talk about your coming to Trinity full time this year.”

  Jennie nodded. “It didn’t work out. With Mom sick so much, she hasn’t been able to work, so we just have Dad’s income. Besides, Mom still needs my help with the house and Nick.” Because Jennie’s mother needed her at home, they had worked out a flexible program with the private school where Jennie would be partially homeschooled and would attend Trinity when she needed to be there for tests, lectures, special assignments, or meetings with various teachers.

  “Are you happy with that?”

  Jennie shrugged. “Yeah. Sometimes I miss out on things at school, but Lisa fills me in.”

  “Good. Now tell me about your science project. How are you planning to do your presentation?”

  “Besides the fold-out display you suggested, I’ll have actual models of a fetus in different stages of development. I’ve already talked to a friend of Mom’s from a crisis pregnancy center. She said she would loan me a set of models. I’m planning to access a lot of the materials on the Internet and thought I’d interview Dr. Phillips too—if he has time.”

  “I’m sure he will. Paul Phillips is an excellent source for you. I hear he’s one of the best pediatricians around. Your project sounds like it will be a good one. I trust you’ll enter it in the City-Wide Science Fair.” He opened a folder and pulled out a flyer. Handing it to her, he added, “It’s not mandatory that you do, but I think with you and Gavin in the fair, Trinity High stands a good chance at taking home top honors.”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Baker. I don’t mind presenting it for the class, but
doing it in front of judges—um … I’m not much of a speaker.”

  Disappointment flitted across his eyes. “Nonsense. You’ll do a great job. Just pretend the judges are all students. And think of what winning will do for our school. We need to generate some excitement and build up morale. Losing the school and so many students has dampened spirits a bit.”

  The school and church had been destroyed in an arson fire, and Trinity High was now housed in a remodeled warehouse while their school was being rebuilt. The warehouse was adequate but not nearly as nice as their other facility had been. At any rate, Jennie kept reminding herself, at least they had a school. “Um … Mr. Baker, isn’t it against the law to get your students to comply by making them feel guilty?” Jennie tossed him a teasing grin.

  Her science teacher raised his eyebrows. “Not to my knowledge.” A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “As they say, all’s fair in love and science projects.”

  “I think that’s ‘love and war.’” She shook her head. “All right, I’ll think about it. If it turns out really well, I might.”

  Jennie loved being an honor student, but she didn’t especially like the extra pressure the teachers put on her. It didn’t seem fair that they’d push you to greater heights when you were already on top. Fortunately, in this case she could say no without it affecting her grade. Why fight it, McGrady? she said to herself. You know you’re going to do it. Since when have you been able to walk away from a challenge?

  “I guess that’ll have to do.” Mr. Baker leaned back and tapped his pen on his knee. “I’ll be glad to help in any way I can. I’d like to see your rough draft by next Friday. If you have any questions, give me a call.”

  “I will. Thanks.” Jennie did a quick calculation. Today was Thursday. She had seven days. She also had a history test Friday, which meant she’d be working on the project most of the weekend.

  “In case you do enter your project, you’ll want the guidelines.” He handed Jennie another paper, which she briefly scanned and tucked into her backpack with her report and the first flyer.

  Jennie made her way to the school office to pick up her mail. The wall of mailboxes was new to the students this fall. Rather than get handouts and miscellaneous notes and graded papers in class, the teachers and secretary would usually place them in the individual boxes. Jennie used the small key on her key chain and opened the metal door. Inside was a copy of their school paper, the Trinity Tidings, and a note from DeeDee, her coach, reminding her about the swim meet that afternoon at four-thirty. Jennie winced. She’d forgotten all about it. Not that it mattered much. She would have shown up for practice anyway.

  “Hi, Jennie,” Mrs. Talbot greeted as she eased her ample frame around her desk.

  “Hey, Mrs. Talbot. How’s the hip?” The secretary had been seriously injured in the fire and had spent nearly a month in therapy.

  She offered Jennie a wide, dimpled smile. “Good as new. Got rid of my crutches a couple days ago. Doc says he’s never seen anyone my age heal so fast. Told him it was the Lord’s doing. Can I help you with something?”

  “No. Just picking up my mail.” She stuffed it away without looking at the rest.

  “In that case, I may as well just give you this.” She pulled a pink flyer from the stack in her hands. “It’s for parents—a reminder about the work party for our rebuilding project Saturday.”

  Jennie deposited it in her backpack, thanked Mrs. Talbot, and left. She got as far as her car before she remembered her meeting with Annie. Ordinarily she would have gone straight to the pool to swim laps. She glanced at her watch. School wouldn’t be out for another hour and a half. She sighed, unlocked the car, pulled out her history text and a note pad, then tossed the bag in the back.

  “Might as well study,” she mumbled. Taking her book back into the school, she hurried down the long corridor to the library. Several students meandered about the small room or sat in cubicles at computers. The shelves, what few of them they had, were filled with books—all of them donated. Their beautiful library and several thousand books had been destroyed in the fire. People had been generous, and in time many of the books would be replaced. Even so, an ache returned to Jennie’s heart whenever she thought of the fire. Michael, the youth director and a good friend, had died from the severe burns he’d received when he’d gone back into the burning building to rescue Mrs. Talbot and some of the others.

  Jennie swallowed the lump in her throat and concentrated on her notes for Friday’s test.

  When the bell rang, Jennie snapped her book shut and headed for the door. By the time she’d made it through the crowd, talked to several friends, told her cousin and best friend, Lisa Calhoun, she’d see her at the swim meet, and paused for a drink of water, Annie was already waiting.

  “We’ll have to hurry,” Jennie said. “I forgot about the swim meet this afternoon. I can take you home, or you can come to the meet if you want.”

  “I’m not sure. I probably should just go home.”

  Shawn Conners, Annie’s boyfriend, drove past them as they approached Jennie’s car. “Hey, Jen.” He braked, then leaned out the window of his black BMW and waved. “You’re not forgetting about the meet, are you?”

  “Not a chance. You going?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” He gave her a thumbs-up, then turned to Annie. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

  Annie nodded. “Actually, I’ll see you at the pool. Maybe you could take me home after?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  A couple toots on his horn and he drove out of the parking lot. Jennie unlocked the door, set her history book on the floor in the back, and climbed in. Though the temperature was in the midsixties, the intermittent sun had turned the car into an oven. Jennie opened her window and suggested Annie do the same.

  Annie set her book bag on the floor between her feet and snapped her seat belt in place. She seemed angry about something.

  “Want to talk about it?” Jennie asked.

  “What … ?” Annie whipped back around to face Jennie. “I … that van over there. I think it’s the one that’s been following me. That’s why I changed my mind about going home.”

  “Over where?” Jennie looked in the direction Annie pointed. There were a ton of vehicles coming and going. Parents picking kids up. Kids with their own cars driving out.

  “That turquoise minivan across the street.”

  Jennie spotted it right away. “Any idea who it is?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s see if we can find out.” Jennie eased into the line of traffic leaving the school, but instead of making her usual left, she went right so she could drive past the van in question. “Shoot, I can’t see. The windows are tinted. Write down the license number and we’ll check it out later.”

  Jennie checked the rearview mirror. The van had gone the opposite direction. “They’re definitely not following us.”

  Annie released a long breath. “Maybe they didn’t notice I was with you.”

  “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? You think someone’s been following you?”

  Annie bit her lower lip. “Yes. It started after the Oregonian announced our Fall Festival celebration and ran the pictures of us. I got to thinking about the case you solved for Allison when she was on the Rose Festival Court. She said you might be able to find out who’s been following me. I catch sight of the van every once in a while. Maybe the person isn’t even driving that van. Maybe it’s just that I notice it because it’s such a bright color.”

  When Jennie made a left at the light, Annie put the sun visor down and fished in her bag for her sunglasses.

  “Are you sure you’re being followed?”

  “Yes. You know the feeling you get when someone is watching you? I get chills up and down my spine. My hair feels like it’s standing on end, and my stomach gets all tied up in knots.”


  Jennie took her own sunglasses from the holder on her visor and slipped them on. “Have you gotten any notes or strange phone calls?”

  “No.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m being paranoid. Shawn seems to think so. I don’t have any proof or anything. It’s just that I have this feeling. I was hoping maybe you would—you know, watch me leave school sometime to see if anyone is following me. I don’t know.” Annie turned in her seat. “Do you think you could help? I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Have you talked to your parents or the police?” Jennie turned right again, setting them on a course that would take them to Lake Oswego, where their meet was being held and where their school had been. The only part of the school remaining, in fact, was the gymnasium and pool complex, which had been a separate building connected to the school by a long breezeway.

  “What would I tell them? I have no proof. No one has tried to contact me.”

  Jennie pursed her lips. “There really isn’t much I can do except check the license plate. In the meantime, it might help for you to keep a diary. Write down the times you feel like you’re being watched. Maybe we can establish a pattern and do some watching ourselves.”

  “Thanks, Jennie. Somehow I knew you’d help.”

  “Do you mind if I ask Lisa to help too?”

  “Not at all.” She folded her arms. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Charity. She hates me. I’m not sure why.”

  Jennie glanced over at Annie. “Charity? I’ll admit she can be a pain, but I really doubt she’d go that far.” Charity Brooks was nearly as tall as Jennie, but more filled out. Basically, she was gorgeous and knew it. Her golden hair had a spiral perm, and her skin glowed from a summer in the sun. “Does she have a teal minivan?”

  “No—at least not that I know of. But she could be renting one.”

  “Not likely. She’s too young.”

  “Well, maybe she borrowed it from someone.” She sighed. “You’re probably right. It’s just that she seems so vindictive.”