What Lies Beneath-Chapter Six

Thursday, September 5, 2002

3:35 PM

“Dad you shouldn’t have grabbed Jenna’s arm like that,” Christy said breathlessly as she followed her Dad into the parking lot. “You really scared her—why did you do that? Dad?” But if he heard her at all, he gave no indication. “Just tell me what you were doing.”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Dad said. “Stay out of it.”

“How am I supposed to stay out of it?” Christy’s voice rose. “Jenna’s my friend. Just tell me. Please?”

Suddenly Dad whirled around. The look in his eyes—Christy had never seen that look before. She took an involuntary step backwards but he grabbed her wrist, pulling her close, squeezing hard just like she’d seen him do with Jenna—Christy couldn’t suppress a gasp of pain. Tears spilled from her eyes, running down her cheeks.

“I’m not telling you this again, Christy,” Dad said. “Defy me one more time and you won’t like the consequences. Understand?”

Christy nodded numbly. “I understand.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but if you get me angry I have no choice. I love you—why do you want to push my buttons and make me do these things?”

“I’m sorry,” Christy told him. “I won’t make you mad again, Dad—I promise.”

The scary look melted, replaced by a wide smile. He let go of her wrist. “Good girl—I knew I could count on you.”

Christy wasn’t sure why, but the smile seemed even worse than the anger had been.

3:45 PM

Dad was silent as they walked over to the Corvette. He unlocked the doors and Jenna climbed into the passenger side, putting her backpack on the floor. She tried to buckle herself in, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t quite make the pieces fit together.

“Here,” Dad said. “Let me help you with that.” The safety belt clicked as he fastened it around her.

“Thanks.” Jenna said.

Dad started the car and put it into gear as he pulled out of the school parking lot. “How’s your arm?”

Jenna stared at him. “Sorry?”

“Your arm.”

“My arm?” Absently she studied the red marks covering her arm and wrist. “It doesn’t hurt a lot.”

“We can put some ice on it later if it doesn’t improve,” he told her. “I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.”

“But I still don’t understand what was going on. I mean, Christy’s dad –” Jenna said. “—it was almost like he was trying to—” she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the word.

“No almost about it, Jenna.” Dad told her. “That man was planning to kidnap you.”

“Oh.” That was all that Jenna could manage at the moment. Part of her had guessed it but she hadn’t really wanted to believe—she clasped her hands and pushed them down between her knees, trying to make the shaking stop. She could feel Dad’s eyes on her.

“I’m sorry—I really don’t want to scare you,” he said. “But after what happened here I think you deserve to know the truth.”

“What is the truth? Why would he do that?” Dad didn’t reply at first, staring straight ahead. His fingers tapped at the steering wheel.“Please tell me.”

“I can’t give you the entire story—as much as I’d like to. Most of what you’re going to want to know is classified.”

“So it’s to do with you and Mom—with your jobs?”

Dad took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s to do with our jobs.”

“Is Christy’s dad a spy?”

“Not really—let’s just say that he’s involved with some very bad things.”

“Well Christy told me that she thought something was going on—she thought he might be stealing again.”

“Oh believe me; this goes much deeper than embezzlement.”

“How did I get involved?”

Dad ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure. All I can figure is that he found out that we’re involved in the investigation—he probably thought taking you would give him some leverage.”

“He wanted to use me to get to you?” Jenna asked.

“That’s his style.”

“And I almost got into the car with him.” Jenna swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the growing lump in her throat but it didn’t work. “I should’ve known that something wasn’t right.”

“Come on, you can’t blame yourself,” Dad steered the car into the IFF parking lot, stopping briefly to show his ID to the guard on duty. “Christy is your friend. You didn’t have any reason to think that anything bad would happen.”

“Will he—will he try again?”

Dad pulled into a parking space near the front of the building. He looked over at her. “He probably will—I wouldn’t put it past him. I’m very sorry.”

“So what happens now?” Jenna asked. “What do we do?”

“Well the first thing we’re going to do is see about getting you some protection. And the second—”

“What’s the second?”

“We’re going to help you learn how to protect yourself.”

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The Agency

4:15 PM

“Lee, just where are you? Amanda and I have been waiting over ten minutes.”

“I know that, Francine,” Lee said. “I’m out in the parking lot now—We just ran into a little trouble.”

“We? What kind of trouble?”

“Let’s just say that I’m bringing Jenna in.”

A quick indrawn breath. “Tell me what happened.”

“Our chief suspect, Peter Blakeney—he tried to take her.”

“Oh my—is she all right?”

“Well she’s a little shaken up but I think she’ll be fine,” Lee said. “I think we’re going to need to put her under Agency protection.”

“How did she get involved to begin with? After all that Jenna’s been through this is the last thing she needs.”

“It wasn’t exactly my idea either,” Lee snapped. “From what I can figure, Blakeney found out about the investigation and decided that he could use Jenna —our children are friends, after all.”

“Just great, Scarecrow,” Francine said. “Okay—bring her in—I’ll have a team standing by to debrief her.”

“A debriefing?” Lee repeated. “Is that really necessary?”

“We have to find out what she knows,” Francine told him. “Don’t worry, Dr. Pfaff will be the one doing the questioning--she's used to him.”

“All right,” Lee said. “We’re coming in now.” He flipped his phone shut. “Come on,” he said to Jenna as they got out of the car.

“Dad, what’s a debriefing?” Jenna asked.

“It just means they want to ask you a few questions,” Seeing the apprehension on his daughter’s face, Lee ruffled her hair. “Don’t be nervous—it’s not a big deal.”

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4:30 PM

Don’t be nervous. Dad had told her that. Jenna was trying really hard not to—but so far not being nervous didn’t seem like a very easy thing to be. She sat in a leather armchair in Francine’s office—one foot tucked under her and one leg pulled tightly against her chest. Her parents were there too, sitting on a nearby sofa and holding each others’ hands.

“Do you mind if this has to be recorded, Jenna?” Francine asked her.

Jenna shook her head. “I don’t mind.” She watched as Francine pushed a button on the recording machine.

“I’m going to be asking you a few questions,” Dr Pfaff told her. “If there’s anything you don’t want to answer you only have to say.”

“I understand,” Jenna said.

“What happened at the school with you and Christy?” Dr. Pfaff asked.

“She was mad at me because my parents said I couldn’t have dinner at her house,” Jenna said. “Christy told me that her dad was really upset about it— and she accused me of not wanting to come because her dad had been in prison.”

“I see,” Dr. Pfaff said. “And after that?”

“I followed her outside and her—her dad was there.” Jenna tried hard to keep her voice steady. “He said that my parents had told him to pick me up.”

“Did you believe him?”

“Not really, no. But I couldn’t think of any reason that he would be lying and I trusted Christy and all— but I still felt like there was something wrong. That’s why I was going to call and check.”

“On your cell phone?” Dr. Pfaff asked.

“Yeah. That’s when Mr. Blakeney—when he grabbed my arm.” At the recollection Jenna’s voice began to shake in earnest. “I tried to pull away but he just squeezed tighter—he pressed my wrist and it hurt—he made me drop the cell phone.” Jenna heard her mother’s gasp. “And then I—”

“And then you what?” Dr. Pfaff asked.

“Nothing,” Jenna focused on the dark green patterned carpet at her feet. “Dad came and then we left. There wasn’t anything else.”

“Sweetheart, if something else happened you can tell us,” Mom said. “It really will be okay.”

Jenna took a deep breath. “What happened is that I froze—when Gary grabbed my arm I just—I mean I couldn’t move and his eyes were so icy—they were blue just like—oh my gosh.” She rubbed her hand over her face, realizing what she’d just said. Christy’s father was named Peter. His eyes were brown, not blue. How could she have thought—her cheeks burned.

“Jenna,” Dr. Pfaff said. “Jenna, look at me.”

Jenna lifted her head.

“It’s very normal to flashback in times of trauma,” Dr. Pfaff told her. “Even to hallucinate. We’ve been through this before. You’re okay.”

“I know you’ve said that—that it’s normal,” Jenna said. “It’s just a little embarrassing.”

“Well it really shouldn’t be. Now is there anything else you can tell us?” Dr. Pfaff said. “Anything else that Christy or her father might have said or done?”

“All Christy’s told me is that she thinks her dad is involved in something,” Jenna said. “She hasn’t said anything else about it.”

Francine looked at her watch. “Interview terminated at 4:45."

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“What’s next?” Amanda asked as they stepped outside of the office. Jenna was still in there, talking to Dr. Pfaff.

“We’ll assign a team to protect Jenna—effective immediately,” Francine said. “I don’t know if Peter Blakeney will make another move on her, but if he does we’ll be ready for it. We can also move all of you to a safe-house if need be—hopefully it won’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” Lee repeated. He looked at Jenna through the office window, still curled up on the sofa, her arms wrapped protectively around her body.

“Lee, what is it?” Amanda asked him.

“Amanda, if I hadn’t been there on time—” Lee’s hands clenched—he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Don’t think like that,” Amanda said. “You were there on time.”

“What if I hadn’t been?” Lee’s voice rose. “You heard, Amanda—you heard how she froze again. If I hadn’t been there Jenna would’ve been helpless to stop that creep from doing whatever he wanted. This can’t keep happening.”

“It’s not exactly Jenna’s fault,” Francine said.

“No,” Lee said. “You’re right, Francine—it’s my fault—our fault. We haven’t given her the skills to cope with these situations.” He paused. “But we can—starting now.”

Amanda looked at her husband. “Tell me what you have in mind.”

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5:00 PM

“Here you go.” Mom handed Jenna a blue sweatsuit. “It’s the smallest they have—it should fit, but if anything’s too long you always can roll it up.”

“Thanks.” Jenna started to pull on the sweatsuit. It was a little big on her but it wasn’t all that bad. She rolled up the sleeves of the sweatshirt, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through her right arm.

“Let me see that.” Mom drew in her breath sharply as she looked at Jenna’s arm, her fingers probing gently. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry this happened.”

“It’s okay—it doesn’t hurt that bad,” Jenna said. “Mom, I really don’t know about this.”

“You don’t know about what?” Mom asked her.

“Self-defense,” Jenna said. “I tried that stuff before, remember? With Gary and Rudolpho. It didn’t really work very well, did it?”

Mom was silent for a moment, just looking at her. “How do you mean it didn’t work very well?”

“What do you mean, how do I mean? I didn’t get away or beat them up, did I?”

Mom shook her head. “That’s really all you think?”

“But Mom—”

“Listen to me, Jenna. With Gary you managed to get his cell phone and let us know where you were—and you stopped Rudolpho from drugging you and bought some time until we could get there,” Mom said. “Personally I think that’s pretty impressive.”

“True.” Jenna said. “I didn’t get away, though, did I?”

“Well you tried—you just need more training. That’s what we’re going to help you with.”

“Amanda—Jenna!” her dad’s voice floated into the locker room. “We’re ready.”

“Ready?” Mom asked her.

Jenna attempted a smile. “I guess so.”

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“The most important part of self-defense is attitude,” Francine told her. “Trusting your instincts, being confident, and most of all, staying calm. You have to stay in control of the situation. That will all get easier with practice—which is something you have to do a lot of. Just learning these things is no good—you have to practice these moves until they become second nature.”

Jenna nodded, not sure how she should reply.

“Now what we’re going to do today is go over various ways of escaping if someone grabs you,” Francine said. “There are several techniques if someone has you by the wrist. Let me show you. Lee?”

Dad walked over.

“Let him take your left wrist, Jenna—we don’t want to risk hurting your right arm any further.” Francine said. Dad’s fingers wrapped around Jenna’s wrist.

“Now how would you get out of this?” Francine asked.

“I—” Jenna tried to pull out of her dad’s grasp—he didn’t have a tight grip but she couldn’t seem to budge him. She tried twisting her wrist a little as she pulled but that didn’t work either. She tried to pull once morel. No good.

“Don’t keep doing the same thing over and over. Think.” Francine told her. “What are some other things you could do?”

“Stomp on his foot,” Jenna said.

“Good,” Francine nodded. “Try it—stomp down as hard as you can.” Jenna did—Dad gritted his teeth as her foot came down on his—a small sound escaped from between his lips but he still didn’t let go. If anything his grip tightened slightly.

“That didn’t work,” Francine said. “You need to try something else.”

Jenna’s mouth was dry. Again she tried to pull her arm back but it didn’t work. Her heart felt like it was galloping and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

“Jenna?” Dad’s voice sounded muffled and far away.

“Sweetheart?” Mom’s voice. “Stay with us—don’t panic—you’re safe. Just breathe.” Jenna did. Gradually she felt her heartbeat slowing down to normal.

“All right now?” Francine asked.

“Fine.” Jenna said.

“Now I’m going to show you a technique,” Francine said. “What I want you to do is trap your Dad’s fingers with your right hand.”

Jenna grabbed Dad’s fingers, holding them in place.

“Good,” Francine instructed. “Now roll your left arm over, grab his wrist with your left hand and press down as hard as you can—just like that.”

Jenna pressed down and Dad fell to his knees, grimacing with pain. Immediately Jenna let go of his arm and stepped back. “Dad I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Dad stood, rubbing his arm. “I’m not hurt, munchkin—really.”

“There are a few other things you can do when someone grabs you like that,” Francine said. “Since the fingers are the weakest part of the grip you can jerk your wrist in the direction of the fingers and snatch it away. That might not always work, though—especially not with larger men like your Dad.”

“What else can I do?” Jenna asked.

“Well another move is to trap his fingers again—like that—and then you can twist and use your heel to kick the side of his kneecap .” Francine demonstrated the motion for Jenna. “Your feet are always an excellent weapon and the knee is a good target. But don’t actually do that right now—the last thing we need is to carry your father out of here on a stretcher.”

Dad shot Francine a look. “Very funny.”

Francine smiled. “I thought so too, Scarecrow,” she said. “Next we’re going to work on escaping from a grab from behind.”

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4247 Maplewood Dr.

7:30 PM

Getting old stunk.

Lee sank onto the family-room sofa, carefully propping his sore leg up on the footstool. The television was on—another sitcom—somehow they all seemed alike these days. Canned laughter filled the room. The telephone rang. Lee turned the volume down on the set and picked up the receiver.

“Stetson residence.”

“Hey, Lee—it’s been a while.”

Lee sighed. “Augie it’s only been a few weeks. Something you wanted?"

“Actually it’s about something you want. Word on the street is that you’re looking to acquire some information.”

“Go on,” Lee said.

“If you are, I might have a lead for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Not over the phone,” Augie said. “It’s not secure, you know? Meet me at my mud-wrestling bar at 12:30. We can arrange something then.”

“I’ll see you then,” Lee said. “Goodbye, Augie.” He hung up the phone

“Here’s an icepack, Dad.” Jenna walked in from the kitchen. “Mom thought it might help your knee a little bit.”

“Thanks, munchkin.” Lee put the pack on his knee. “I’m sure it’ll help a lot.”

“Was that guy Augie just on the phone?” Jenna asked.

“That was him, yeah.”

“He’s a strange guy.”

Lee laughed. “ Believe me, strange doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Jenna said nothing in reply, just stood there staring at him.

“Something else you wanted?” Lee asked.

“Not really, no.” Jenna bit her lip. “I just still feel awful about what happened—”

Lee groaned. “—we’ve been over his ten times already. I’m fine. Really.”

“I really meant to kick out to the side—I didn’t mean to actually hit anyone. I certainly didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“I want you to stop this,” Lee said. “I mean it. Stop. Sit down right here.” Jenna did. Lee took a deep breath and began:

“First of all, I’m not mad at you at all—I’m proud of you. You did very well for a first lesson—you controlled your panic and used your instincts.” Lee paused. “And secondly, if someone ever does grab you from behind I want you to do exactly what you did to me—I don’t want you to hold back because you’re worried about hurting some bad guy. Got it?”

“Got it,” Jenna repeated. “But seriously, how is your knee?”

“Well—it does hurt a little,” Lee said. “But there’s no permanent damage done. How’s your arm?”

“The same,” Jenna said. “I still can’t believe that Christy’s dad almost did that—it seems so weird." She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I mean when I was six I’d go to play over at Christy’s house—he was always so nice. At least he seemed that way.”

“He’s bad news,” Dad told her. “I can’t tell you everything, but trust me—he’s not someone you want to be around.”

“He’s not going to give up, is he?” Jenna’s voice was small. “When will it be over?”

Lee pulled his daughter into a hug. He could feel her shaking slightly as he smoothed her hair. “It’ll be over very soon, Jenna.” Lee told her. “I promise you. We’ll stop him.”

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4300 Maplewood Dr.

8:30 PM

“Wife still not home yet?”

Peter sighed. “Don’t remind me, Elana—I had a hard enough time explaining to my daughter why I lied to her about that.”

“I bet. How’s your other little houseguest?”

“I didn’t pick her up yet.”

“What the—why haven't you?”

“It wasn’t exactly on purpose,” Peter snapped.“Her father showed up and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t risk drawing unnecessary attention “

“We need that girl.”

“You don’t think I know that? I tell you, I’m working on it.” The sound of rock music floated down the stairs. Peter smiled to herself.

“I certainly hope you are.”

“Don’t worry,” Peter said. “I’ll get Jenna Stetson—and now I think I have the perfect tool to use.”

TBC