Keeping Secrets--Part Four

4247 Maplewood Dr.

Wednesday, January 23, 2002 

5:15 PM 

Investigate.

Looking down at what she’d written, Jenna let out a sigh.

It was all very well to say that she should investigate—to talk about investigating. In real life, though—it was another matter entirely. She was only twelve years old—almost thirteen, Jenna reminded herself. Not that the extra year made that much difference. She still couldn’t drive, couldn’t work apart from occasionally babysitting which meant no real money. Investigators—real investigators—followed people around.  How was she supposed to do that? Jenna wondered.  Follow after people on her bike?  Call a cab or stowaway in the trunk of the ‘Vette?  None of these ideas were practical—in fact, they were downright silly. Jenna let out her breath in a hiss of frustration.

This wasn’t working out at all.

There must be something there, though—just had to be. Something else she could do—something that maybe she’d overlooked.

Like what?

In the Scarlet Pimpernel Marguerite had discovered Percy’s secret identity by searching his study. That was where she’d found the ring, bearing the seal of the Pimpernel.

But Jenna was never going to search Mom and Dad’s room again—not ever. Her own attempt at a search had only found a gun holster and won her a conversation with her Dad that she definitely didn’t want to repeat. She knew that her parents had done—that—obviously they had or else she wouldn’t be here. But Dad trying to talk to her about it—Jenna cringed inside at the thought, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks.

‘Maybe there’s nothing to investigate,’ the little voice in her head whispered. ‘This could still be your imagination working overtime. ‘

Then Jenna looked down at her list. All the things that were strange—that didn’t fit.

‘No,’  she told herself firmly.  ‘There’s something there—I know it.’ She had almost three pages now—it wasn’t three pages of imagination. It just couldn’t be.

Except she’d never be able to prove it—never be able to find out what all this stuff actually meant.

Still no Mom at the mansion next to the school today—though she had spotted the chauffer this morning before school. He had been outside, talking on his cell phone.  Jenna had been too far away to hear what he was saying but from the way he’d strode back and forth, clutching the phone tightly in one hand and gesturing with the other she’d gathered he wasn’t very happy.  Jenna had managed to watch him until the bell rang and she’d had to rush to class.

She really wished her cell phone had a camera—

“Jenna, look at these.” Grandma swept into the room—hastily Jenna stuffed the notebook under a pillow, sitting up.

“What is it?” she asked, trying to sound normal –casual.

“I picked up these party invitations at Hallmark,” Grandma handed her the packet, still wrapped in plastic.  “Thought they looked just the thing for a teenage slumber party.” 

Jenna looked down at them—the large purple letters which announced  ‘Party’—set  against a pink background dotted with multicolored stars.

“Those are really pretty, Grandma,” she said. “Very cool—thank you.”

Grandma smiled. “Well, after all—if you’re going to invite your friends, you might as well invite them in style, right?”

“Right,” Jenna repeated. “We’ll invite them in style.”

“Once we set the exact time and date you can write these out,” Grandma told her. “In the meantime I should get back to dinner—and let you get back to your diary.”

Her diary— what diary? For a few seconds Jenna stared blankly at her before comprehension dawned. She must mean the notebook. “Yeah,” Jenna said. “I should get back to my—um—my diary.”

“You know, your mother was just like that at your age—always scribbling down something into her notebook about her friends, her dates—all kinds of things.”

If only the things she wrote about were that normal, Jenna thought. Out loud she said. “It’s good to write things down.”

Grandma patted her shoulder. “Very true, darling. Dinner will be ready in an about an hour.”

Jenna smiled. “Okay.” Once Grandma had left she slid the notebook out from under the pillow.

“—just don’t know, Billy.” 

Dad’s voice—coming from below her window—talking to Billy—question was, what were they talking about?

‘Only one way to find out,’ Jenna’s heart pounded loudly in her ears as she carefully slid open her window just a crack—she didn’t want Dad to look up and see.  Looking straight down she could make out the top of his head—the cell phone in his hand.

“I have another meeting with him Saturday,” Dad was saying.  “Yeah, I know it was supposed to be earlier—hopefully Groesbeck’s a bit more forthcoming this time.”

Groesbeck?  Jenna wondered if that was the man she’d seen in the mall—the white/blond man.  What was he supposed to be more forthcoming about?”

Suddenly Dad looked up –almost right at her—oh gosh—Jenna crouched on the floor, keeping her head down and hoping he didn’t see her or hear how fast her heart was beating. After a few moments she mustered the courage to look out again.  Dad was still there—he must not have seen her or he’d have been up here like a shot. She let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“No—no I still don’t know what his game is,” Dad replied.  “Still going to play along—never know what he could lead us to.” A brief pause. “No, I told you—backup might spook him.”

Backup?  Cops called for backup—she knew that. Cops—and who else? Jenna was going to have to remember all this to write down—she didn’t want to grab her notebook right now and risk attracting attention.  

“Oh, and Billy, speaking of backup have you heard from—” More silence. Dad ran his hand back through his hair. “No—yeah, I know.”  Even from up here Jenna could hear the worry in his voice.  “Tell Francine to let me know when you do hear, huh? Bye.”

Billy—and Francine. Jenna’s hands trembled as she closed her window. So they were a part of it.  Just like she’d thought earlier.  And Mom—maybe Grandma—though picturing Grandma leading some kind of double life—

‘But why would that be stranger than anything else?’ she added silently. ‘Why would that be stranger than Mom?’ The thought of Mom living life as some kind of a socialite was just—Jenna couldn’t think of words to describe just how strange it was.   And the film company—it had to be part of this too— whatever ‘this’ was. And Dad’s next meeting was on Saturday.

If only there was a way that she could go too…

SMK SMK SMK SMK

Lee pocketed his phone with a sigh. Still no word from Amanda—he knew how zero contact operations worked—he’d  worked a few himself in the past.   And Amanda could handle himself—Lee knew that. Still, not knowing how she was, not being able to see her, talk to her, to touch her—it was making him crazy.   He couldn’t wait till she came home, when he could take her in his arms—hold her body close to his, his lips bending down to meet hers—

A soft thump from above caused Lee to look up. What had—his eyes focused on Jenna’s room. For one split second he could’ve sworn that he saw something—a shadow—some movement behind the patterned lace curtains?   But before he could focus on it the shadow had disappeared.

Had the shadow been Jenna? He wondered. Was she watching him? Eavesdropping on his conversation? For one brief moment  Lee considered confronting her, asking her directly. But no—that would be a bad move.  If she hadn’t been she’d be indignant that he’d accuse her of such a thing and if she had—either way there would be a barrage of questions from her—questions he wasn’t prepared or willing to answer right now.

When had this happened? When had everything he said suddenly become the wrong thing?  And when had his sweet trusting daughter been replaced by this girl who constantly questioned him?  This girl who skulked around—went searching through his drawer looking for God only knew what—he was pretty sure  it hadn’t been a condom because of the look of utter mortification  on her face when he’d tried to approach the subject.

‘Pretty sure,’  the little voice in his head reminded him.  ‘That doesn’t mean you’re completely sure, does it?’

And he wasn’t, Lee thought. He wasn’t completely sure about anything. How could he be? One moment Jenna was upbeat and happy—the next moment brooding and quiet—watching him out of the corner of her eye— in a split second her mood could change. Overhead a bird squawked repeatedly—if he didn’t know any better he’d swear the thing was laughing.

‘Welcome to teenage life, Stetson,’ it seemed to be telling him.

If he ever needed Amanda, he needed her now.

Thursday, January 24, 2002 

8:25 AM 

“Got everything?”  Dad asked as she climbed into the ‘Vette.

Jenna nodded. “Everything I need—books, homework—lunch money—”

“Good to know.”

Silence. Jenna tried to think of something to say—anything to fill the silence—anything but the myriad of questions that filled her head.

‘What do you really do? Just what are you and Mom hiding from me? What’s everyone hiding?’ 

Questions she couldn’t ask him, not just yet—not until she had a lot more to go on. The meeting on Saturday would probably answer a lot of the questions—the only problem being that she still couldn’t figure out how she would be able to be there.

‘Have to stop dwelling on this,’ she thought. The best solutions usually came when you weren’t thinking at all. Jenna thought of turning on the radio—dad always grumbled and grumped about her music—her ‘noise’ as he called it—but he was usually smiling when he did it—it was Jenna’s opinion that he actually enjoyed some of it.

This morning, though—she really wasn’t in a music mood.

“How are your classes going?” Dad asked her.

“They’re going fine,” Jenna replied. “I like my teachers—and my classes are fun.”

“That’s good to know, munchkin.” 

“We’re reading the Scarlet Pimpernel in English,” she told him. “Have you ever read that book?”

“No, but I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s a cool book.” Jenna watched him closely as she spoke. “About a guy named Sir Percy Blakeney who pretends to be kind of a frivolous person—he acts like he’s not very smart, but really he has a secret identity.”

Dad’s expression didn’t even change—no reaction at all. If the subject matter had any effect on him, Jenna thought— he certainly didn’t show it.  “What kind of secret identity?” he asked her.

“As The Scarlet Pimpernel—he’s rescues people from the guillotine.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“It is—he has people after him like this guy named Chauvelin—oh and then his wife finds out what he really does—she spies on him.”  They had pulled up to a stop sign and Dad glanced over at her.

“What next?” he asked. 

“Well then she has to rescue him before he gets caught,” Jenna said.  “I haven’t read the whole thing yet so I don’t know if it turns out okay.” 

“I’m sure it does—in books like that the hero always wins.”  More silence—Dad pulled into the car line.

“Other than classes, how is everything else going?”

“Okay—I mean—everyone’s pretty nice—” they were drawing close to the mansion—the limo still parked in the front.  Jenna stared at it fixedly.

“Everyone?” Dad prompted.

“Well, almost everyone.” Jenna replied. “Terri can still be kind of mean but it’s not too bad.” 

“What do you mean, she can still be kind of mean?”

The door to the mansion suddenly opened—Jenna sucked in her breath as Mom—the dark-haired woman who looked like Mom, stepped out onto the porch. She was wearing an elegant –looking cream-colored suit. A cream-colored suit in the morning?  At home Mom usually wore shirts and jeans. But not here, apparently.  If it was Mom and not someone else.

For a brief moment the woman’s gaze turned towards them and Jenna froze. Did she see them? Could she see the car? She thought her heart was going to beat right out of her chest.   Before she could do or say anything more the woman turned and went back inside.

“Jenna!”  Dad was staring at her now, his eyes concerned. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

She hadn’t—she hadn’t heard him at all.  “I’m sorry,” she replied.  “My mind just wandered for a second, that’s all.”

“Wandered? Wandered how?”

“Just wandered—Dad it’s no big deal.”

“Why do you keep staring at that house next door?”  Dad asked.

“Staring at the house next door?”  Jenna repeated.

“Yeah. Come to think of it you’ve been doing that for a couple of days now. “

He’d noticed—she didn’t know that he had noticed.  But he hadn’t seen her, Jenna realized—the woman who looked like Mom. “I just was always curious about it, that’s all,” she said. “Don’t you ever wonder who lives there?” 

“Someone with a lot of money, munchkin,” Dad told her. “Now what was that you were you saying about Terri being kind of mean?”

“Well she’s not nice,” Jenna said.  “She’s never nice to me—she glares and says stuff, but at least she’s not going out of her way to pick on me right now.”

“You’ll let the principal or someone else know if she does, right?”  Dad asked.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

“That’s good.” They pulled to stop in front of the school.

“Well I should go before I’m late,”   Jenna said. She turned to leave when Dad turned towards her, taking her hand in his.

“You know that you can talk to me too, right?”  He said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I mean it, Jenna. You can talk about anything you want—school, friend, clothes—even, you know—boys.” He said the word ‘boys’ like they were some kind of dread disease. For a minute Jenna held her breath, sure he was going to mention the stuff in the drawer again—

“I guess what I’m trying to say,” Dad continued—Jenna let out a sigh of relief. “Is that I want you to feel free to talk to me — and whatever you have to say, I promise I’ll understand.”

‘I don’t know—I don’t know if you’d understand this,’ Jenna thought. “I know that,” she said out loud. “Really, I do.”

The words he wanted to hear, she knew. Dad smiled—he pulled her into a hug. “Love you, munchkin.” 

“I love you too, Dad.” 

SMK SMK SMK SMK

‘Did she see me?  Oh my gosh—’

Legs trembling, Amanda sank down into a nearby chair in the foyer.  She breathed deeply, in and out, fighting for composure.

“Are you all right, Ms. Greenwich?”

Amanda looked up into the face of the butler, Hans. “I’m fine,” she said. “Really—I just had a moment.”

“If there’s anything you need—a glass of water, perhaps?”

“No thank you—I don’t need anything.” 

He inclined his head slightly. “As you wish, ma’am.  Oh, and one more thing. The master, Mr. De Vrees  would like to meet with you in his study as soon as you’re able.”

“Thank you,” Amanda said.  “Please let him know that I’ll be there directly.” The butler nodded again and left.  

Jenna.

It really shouldn’t have come as such a shock, she thought to herself. Jenna’s school was right next door, after all—she had known that before she’d taken the assignment. At the time it had actually been a comforting thought, knowing that she would still be near her child.  But seeing that car at that exact moment had been—

Maybe she was worrying over nothing.  Chances were that Jenna hadn’t seen her—that she still didn’t know what was going on.

But she could’ve, Amanda reminded herself. It was possible. And if she had what might be going through her daughter’s mind? Dressed like this Amanda hardly resembled the mother that Jenna was used to seeing. The same mom who went to PTA meetings and made brownies for her bake sales, who stayed up nights sewing Halloween costumes—baking Birthday cakes—

Birthday cakes—Jenna’s birthday was only six days away—she had to be there—the first birthday since the kidnapping. This time last year she’d been so frightened, wondering if she’d ever see her youngest child alive again, and now—

“I want to make good memories, Mom,”  Jenna had said.  “I want this birthday to be happy.”

“Sweetheart, it will be, I promise. We’ll make it the best.”

The best—Amanda still wanted that—but she couldn’t do much stuck in this house while Jenna—

If Jenna saw her she would recognize her—of that she was absolutely sure. She would see her and she’d just know—the same way that Amanda would’ve known her own mother at that age, even in disguise.

So maybe she hadn’t seen her—maybe.  But if she had—

‘I’m not even there to explain any of this to her—’ Lee was there, of course, but sometimes his attempts at explanation could be a little—awkward—at times, especially where Jenna was concerned.

“Daddy—why do you look that way?” A then four-year-old Jenna had stared at Lee as if he were a stranger—taking in his dirty attire, his fake beard and disheveled appearance—she’d pressed closer to Amanda, her hands clutching her mother’s leg.

For a moment Lee had been at a loss for words—Amanda had seen the panic in his eyes. He couldn’t tell her the truth, of course—that he was going undercover to nab a double agent—

“It’s for –um—it’s for a movie, Jenna,” he’d said finally.

“What movie?”

“A movie about—” Lee hesitated.  “About homeless—homeless animals  Stray cats and dogs—animals that don’t have a home.”

“No home?”  Jenna had asked—her voice doubtful.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Amanda had quickly jumped in.  “Daddy’s just in a costume for this movie.” 

“Right see? It’s just a costume—look.” At that point Lee had stepped closer, dropping to one knee. Jenna drew back at first but finally stepped forward, reaching out a tiny hand to touch his fake beard.

“It feels funny,” she’d said critically. “I like you with no beard.”

Lee had laughed then—pulling her into a hug. “Yeah, I like me with no beard too, munchkin.”

But Jenna wasn’t four anymore, and explanations that had worked then weren’t going to fly. Already she was starting to notice things—to ask questions that they wouldn’t be able to put off forever—

“She’s still too young.”

“She’s nearly thirteen, Lee—almost a teenager, remember?”  At the mention of that word Lee had tensed, running his hand back through his hair. Amanda had continued. “She’s going to want to know the truth—she deserves to know.”

“Amanda, she’s been through a lot this last year—a hell of a lot. Why do we need to add to the trauma she’s already experienced?”

Would it necessarily have to be traumatic? Amanda wondered. It would be a surprise, of course, but one she thought that Jenna would be able to cope with if they handled it right—if they sat her down— if they both talked to her and calmly explained—

The soft chime of the grandfather clock in the hallway brought Amanda hurtling back to the present. The sooner she wrapped up this case, the sooner she’d be able to be home with her family. Rising to her feet, she made her way down the oak-paneled corridor to De Vrees’ study.

“Ahh—Ms. Greenwich,” Mr. De Vrees smiled.  He had been seated behind his desk; he rose as she entered the room.  “I trust you’ve had a pleasant morning?”

“Very pleasant, thank you.”

“And have you met my associate, Mr. Caspar Groesbeck? “  De Vrees gestured towards the blond man who stood beside him.  “Mr. Groesbeck, allow me to present Ms. Victoria Greenwich.”

Mr. Groesbeck took her hand. “A pleasure, Ms. Greenwich,” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Amanda replied.  For just a moment a strange look flitted across his face—was it fear?  The look was gone as quickly as it had come, however—and Mr. Groesbeck stepped back.

“Ms. Greenwich is considering funding our little enterprise,” De Vrees said.

“That is correct,” Amanda said.  “At this time, though I’m afraid I know very little about the details of this –enterprise. “

“Well luckily, that’s what we’re here to rectify.”  De Vrees gestured to a nearby chair. “If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll  tell you exactly what we have in mind.”

SMK  SMK SMK SMK

Saturday, January 26, 2002 

9:30 AM 

“Absolutely not,” Dad replied.  “It’s out of the question.”

“But Dad, we have to.”  Jenna followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen.  “This is our only chance.” 

“Jenna, your slumber party is this next Friday,” Dad told her. “You can’t tell me that this is the only—we can get stuff later in the week.”

“When? You’re busy all week—and I have school.”

Dad sighed.  “Your Mom can—”

“Mom can when?”  Jenna crossed her arms as she faced him. “When will Mom be back?  Do you even know?”

“Jenna—” Dad’s voice rose slightly. “I’m warning you.” 

She was pushing it—she knew that—and the frustration in her Dad’s expression spoke volumes.  Despite that Jenna couldn’t seem to stop—she had to be there—had to find a way to see that meeting if she could.

‘I need to know what’s happening—what’s really going on.’ 

“You know this is the best time to go shopping.” She made her tone as wheedling as possible and put on her best pleading face.  “Dad, please.” 

“Munchkin—the thing is, I’ve got some errands to run this morning—you don’t want to be along for boring old errands.”

“But Dad—”

“Listen—you stay here with your Grandmother this morning, okay? Then later on in the afternoon I’ll come back and take you shopping. How does that sound, huh?” 

Terrible, Jenna thought—her heart sinking down to her knees. This wasn’t going to work—she was going to be stuck in this boring house while Dad went out—

“Jenna can’t stay here with me, Lee,” Grandma came downstairs. “Captain Curt and I are spending the day together—we planned this two weeks ago.”

“Can’t you reschedule?” Dad asked her. 

Grandma raised her eyebrows. “Reschedule the Washington Golf and Country Club?”  

“No—no of course you can’t.” The expression on Dad’s face was positively frantic—he looked from Grandma to Jenna and back again. “Couldn’t Jenna go with you?” 

“Dad—I don’t play golf.”

“Well you could learn, couldn’t you?  You’d have fun there.”

“No, I wouldn’t have fun,” Jenna said. “I said I don’t want to go there—” Dad shushed her.

“Of course she can go,” Grandma said. 

“Then it’s settled,” Dad told her.

She couldn’t win—no matter what Jenna did she was stuck—

“In fact,” Grandma added, “there’s a young man that I think you’d like to meet.”  

“Wait a minute. A young man?” Dad may have looked frantic before; now he looked like his eyes might bulge out of his head.

“A very nice young man,” Grandma told him.  “He’s a nephew of Captain Curt’s –his name is Pierce.”

“Pierce?”   Dad repeated.

Grandma nodded. “Pierce Andrew Curt. He’s only fifteen years old but very mature for his age.”

“Fifteen?”  Dad was beginning to sound like a parrot.

Jenna’s eyes met Grandma’s. 

‘Play along.’  She seemed to be telling her silently.

“Pierce sounds nice,” Jenna said. “Is he—um—is he cute?” 

“He’s very nice looking,” Grandma’s smile widened.  “He even has a learner’s—”

“That’s okay,” Dad said quickly. “Jenna’s coming with me, aren’t you? We’re going birthday shopping.”

“That’s right—I’m going with him.”

“Shame,” Grandma patted Jenna on the shoulder. “Maybe next time. You two have a nice day, all right?”

“We will,” Jenna said.

 TBC