Keeping Secrets--Part Five
Party City Superstore
Saturday, January 26, 2002
11:00 AM
“Okay, here we are at last—birthday supplies,” Dad announced. Jenna followed him, pushing the cart into the aisle.
“I never realized how many holidays there were until we came here,” Jenna followed him, pushing the cart into the aisle. “Do you think that anybody actually has a Groundhog Day party?”
“Well if they don’t, there’s a whole lot of stuff going to waste.” Dad said. “Okay—this part looks like the teen section—you see anything you like?”
Jenna looked where he was pointing. There seemed to be an awful lot of ‘Sweet Sixteen’ stuff—a sea of pink and white—but she wasn’t sixteen—at least not yet. If Dad got all stressed out over thirteen how would he feel when she was old enough to drive? She looked up at him, his gaze fastened intently on the shelves.
“Dad, thanks.” She told him.
He glanced down at her. “What for?”
“You know. For doing this—this shopping stuff.” Jenna hesitated. “I know I kind of railroaded you into it.”
“Hey—you didn’t railroad me into anything, munchkin,” Dad said. “I’m having fun.”
“Really?”
“Really. So what do you think of these here? They’re kind of cute.” Dad pointed to the lavender paper plates which read ‘Look Who’s 13’ in bright pink letters.
Jenna nodded. “They do look cool.”
“That they do,” Dad replied. “And look—we can get matching napkins, cups, a centerpiece, streamers, balloons—even hats—” Jenna made a face. “What is it?” he asked.
“I’m not so sure about hats—do you think they’d be kind of baby?”
“Personally, I don’t think so, munchkin—but it’s really up to you.”
Up to her—Jenna hesitated, looking at the hats. She did have to admit that they were cute like Dad said—and they did have glitter on them. And besides that she’d had hats at every other birthday party—part of her really didn’t want to give up the tradition just yet.
“I think—I think we’ll get some hats,” she said. “I like them, and if someone doesn’t want to wear them they don’t have to.”
“Good call,” Dad agreed. Together they placed the things in the cart. “Okay—what else do we need?”
“Well we don’t need pizza because we order that—”
“Just tell me what we do need.”
“There’s chips and dip,” Jenna began, thinking aloud. “Only not sour cream and onion because Tamara’s allergic to onions and not clam dip because Lisa swells up if she eats shellfish. And maybe Cheetos because Christy likes them but then she might eat them all but hopefully she won’t and then there’s soda of course—” her voice broke off when she saw Dad’s grin. “What is it?”
“Nothing—it’s just sometimes you’re an awful lot like your Mom sometimes,” Dad ruffled her hair. “What about a cake?”
“Mom said she was going to make me a chocolate peppermint cake with homemade peppermint icing,” Jenna watched her Dad closely as she spoke—noting the way he tensed as soon as she mentioned Mom in conjunction with her birthday party. “But if she’s not back in time—”
“Jenna, I promise—she’s going to do everything she can to be back in time.”
“You said that it’s possible, though—it’s possible that she won’t be.”
One hand back through his hair, as always—his eyes refused to meet hers. “I know what I said, but your Mom will do everything possible—”
Everything possible—he kept saying that, but still there were no phone calls—apart from the ones with Billy and the weird one in that language—no postcards from Mom—nothing. Just the woman next to the school who might or might not be—
“She’s okay, though—isn’t she?” The words were out of Jenna’s mouth before she’d even had time to think them through. Dad stared at her in amazement.
“What??”
“You would tell me, wouldn’t you?” Jenna asked. “I mean, if Mom was in some sort of horrible accident or if she you know—ran off or something you’d let me know, right? You wouldn’t just lead me on?”
“Listen to me. If anything like that had happened you would know,” Dad said. “I would never hide something like that from you. Ever.”
‘But you are hiding things,’ Jenna thought, looking at him. ‘Aren’t you? You’ve been hiding things from me, other things—’ How was she supposed to know what was true and what wasn’t? Nothing was what it seemed to be—she just didn’t know anymore
“Your Mom is fine,” Dad continued. “I don’t know when she’ll be back from this assignment but I can tell you that she’s all right. Nothing bad has happened.”
She believed him—wanted to believe him—she really did.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I know you’d tell me. I guess I just miss her, that’s all.”
“I know you do.”
“I get frustrated— not being able to talk to her.”
“Yeah, you and me both.” Dad replied, hugging her briefly. “Listen, why don’t we get a cake mix? That way we’ll have it just in case.”
“That sounds good. Can we get a lemon cake mix with chocolate icing?”
“Chocolate and lemon?” Dad sounded doubtful.
“Yeah, I think they would taste good together.”
“Well if that’s what you want, munchkin—that’s what we’ll get, once we find the cake section. But Jenna—about earlier—”
“What about earlier?”
“You’re not really interested in meeting fifteen-year old boys, are you?”
“No.” Jenna watched a relieved smile spread over her father’s face. “Well—not yet. Maybe someday, though—if they’re cute.”
Dad’s smile faded.
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1:30 PM
“So do you understand what I’m saying now?”
“That boys can’t always be trusted, especially if they’re older than me.”
“That’s right—”
“And that older boys who like younger girls don’t always like them for themselves—they like them for other reasons?” Dad wouldn’t tell her what the other reasons were, exactly, but Jenna had a rough idea.
Red crept up past Dad’s shirt collar. “Basically, yes.”
“And that if a boy really likes me he’ll listen to me and respect me, right?” Jenna said. “Dad, it’s really okay— Mom already talked about this with me.”
“She did?” Dad asked. Jenna nodded. “Well—that’s good then. But like I said before, I used to be a boy, so I know—”
“Dad—where are we?”
The ‘Vette had pulled into a narrow side street—almost an alleyway. To Jenna the place looked completely deserted. Garbage littered the cracked and broken sidewalks and most of the windows had black iron bars on them. Dad pulled up next to a place that would’ve read ‘Randy’s Pool Hall’ if not for the missing ‘n’ in Randy.
“What are we doing here?” Jenna asked. This couldn’t possibly be where the meeting—
‘I asked to come along.’ Her heart thudded dully against her ribcage. Just what had she gotten herself into? She looked at Dad—his knuckles almost white as they clutched the steering wheel—she could see that knot in his jaw.
“Dad?”
“Jenna—I have a little errand to run,” Dad said. “I’ll only be a few minutes—in the meantime I want you to stay in the car and keep your head down, okay?”
Just like the time when she was six. “But Dad, I want to—”
“I’m serious. This isn’t a good neighborhood. Promise?”
“Yeah.” Dad squeezed her hand and got out of the car. Jenna kept her head down—she heard the door shut and then the little beep that told her he’d locked the doors. Lifting her head slightly she watched him walk through the pool hall door. Had he taken something out of his jacket? Jenna thought that maybe he had but from this vantage point she couldn’t really make it out.
What was going on?
‘I’m never going to find out if I stay in the car,’ she thought.
On the other hand, getting out was taking an awfully big risk. Dad hadn’t been kidding her when he’d said that—it didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was not a good part of town.
‘But I want to know what’s going on—I need to—”
After another moment’s hesitation Jenna unlocked the door and climbed out. There was one window in front of the pool hall—bars in front of it, of course. Peering through the bars and through the grimy-looking glass she could just about make out Dad and the man—the same man who had been in Kohl’s –the white/blond man. That must be the one Dad called Groesbeck—had to be. It was too far away to tell what they were saying this time but Jenna watched as Groesbeck pulled some kind of envelope out of his jacket and handed it to Dad.
“Hey there,”
The voice startled her. Jenna whirled around to see a man, wearing some sort of camouflage jacket and carrying a bottle. He smiled as he stumbled towards her, revealing yellowed teeth.
“How’re you?” He drawled—even from here she could smell his breath—his unwashed clothes—even the tips of his fingers were stained black. Jenna swallowed hard—the odor making her stomach churn.
“Fine,” she managed to say, backing away as much as she could—she could feel the cold metal of the bars through her clothing.
“Sure look it, sweetie,” the man laughed when he said that—as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever heard—a laugh that degenerated into a violent hacking cough. “You wouldn’t have a dollar or two, would ‘ya?”
“No, she wouldn’t.” Dad’s voice. Oh gosh—she hadn’t even heard him approach. He stood beside her now, one hand resting protectively against Jenna’s back—his other hand on her elbow.
“Sorry, mister,” the man said. “Just askin’”
“We’ll be going now,” Dad said.
“Yeah, well—see you later.” Jenna watched as the man disappeared down the street—then she looked up at Dad.
“You see,” she started to explain. “What actually happened was—”
“Save it. Just get in the car, Jenna,” Dad’s voice sounded calm, but she could hear the anger there. “Right now. You and I are going to have a long talk.”
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“You all right?” Dad asked as she got back into the car.
“I’m okay.” Jenna managed to fasten her seatbelt, surprised by how badly her hands were shaking.
“Are you cold?”
“Yeah—a little bit.”
“I turned on the heater—it should warm up soon.”
Dad put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. Safe now, was safe—Jenna focused on controlling her breathing—gradually her heartbeat began to settle into a normal rhythm.
“He didn’t touch you, did he?” Dad asked.
“No,” Jenna shook her head. “Nothing like that. He just talked.”
“Just talked.” Dad repeated. “What a comforting thought. Jenna did I or didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?”
Jenna paused. She couldn’t tell him what she’d really been doing—what she’d seen—that man giving Dad the envelope. Couldn’t confront him with this, not until she knew what she was talking about—until she had more to go on. Questions hung in the air, felt but unspoken.
What were we doing there in the first place? Who is that man? And what was in that envelope?
“You did tell me to stay,” She replied. “But I—”
“But you what? You what, huh?” Dad’s voice rose. “I told you very clearly and you just thought you’d disobey me for what—just for the hell of it?”
“Dad, I—”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? How stupid? ”
Stupid. Jenna’s face burned—she looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them in her lap.
“Answer me,” Dad said. “Just tell me—give me some idea of what was going through that hard head of yours, because right now I don’t know.”
“He just—” she fumbled for the right words. “All he did was ask me if I had money. I didn’t think—”
“That’s just the point. You didn’t think—you didn’t think at all.”
“I know that—”
“No you don’t, Jenna.” They pulled up to a light—she could feel his eyes on her—each word felt like a missile as it hit—Jenna kept her eyes wide, trying to stop her tears from escaping. “You don’t know what that guy was thinking—what he might have been planning to do. If I hadn’t been there God only knows what might have happened.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re sorry? You would be sorry if something had happened to you—but by then it would be too late.”
“By then it will be too late.” In her head Jenna could hear Gary’s voice saying those words—his cold eyes as he’d leveled the gun at her, pulling the trigger—
Around this same time last year—
‘No, no—I won’t think it—I won’t.’ She closed her eyes, trying to breathe, to fight the feelings welling up inside.
“Munchkin,” Dad touched her shoulder. “Look at me.”
Jenna opened her eyes. They had stopped, she realized—at the Kroger’s parking lot. She looked over at Dad. “What are we doing here?”
“I didn’t think we should have this talk while driving.” Dad hesitated. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but what you did just now was very dangerous. I just hope you realize that.”
“I do. But I really didn’t mean—” Dad held up his hand, silencing her.
“Let me finish, all right? We were in a very rough part of town. And I’m glad that nothing worse happened, but you need to understand that when I tell you to do something it’s only because I love you and I want you to be safe. Do you understand?”
“I do understand.”
“Do you?” He shook his head. “I swear, sometimes you’re just like your—”
“Just like my what?”
“Never mind.” He took her hands. “Jenna, listen. This time last year I didn’t know where you were, who had taken you—and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again. That’s not an experience I want to repeat. Ever.”
Jenna’s voice was small—she could see the pain in her Dad’s eyes—how badly she’d frightened him. It made her feel bad—she never wanted to hurt him. “I don’t want to repeat it either. I’m sorry. “
“Well it was my fault too, munchkin—I never should’ve taken you to a place like that—but there was something I needed to do. So I’m sorry too.”
“What did you need to do there?” she asked.
“That’s—it’s kind of a long story.”
“Was it film business?”
“It was—” Dad let out his breath in a long sigh. “It was related. That’s really all I can say.”
Related how? What kind of ‘film business’ could you do in a pool hall anyway?
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” Dad asked. “About what you were doing—getting out of the car like that?”
For a moment Jenna really wanted to tell him—to talk to him—she opened her mouth—
“No,” she told him finally. “There’s nothing to tell.” An unreadable expression flitted across Dad’s face—for a minute Jenna thought he was going to push the issue—to say something else, but he simply squeezed her hands and kissed her forehead.
“Okay,” he said. “Listen, as long as we’re here, why don’t we pick up some ice cream, huh? We’re going to need some for the party.”
“Rainbow sherbet? And chocolate peanut butter—that’s Lisa’s favorite.”
“Whatever you want, munchkin.”
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“There’s nothing to tell.”
Lee glanced over at his daughter as she held the freezer door open, lips pursed, dark eyes methodically scanning the rows of ice cream.
Did he believe her? Was this nothing more than teenage moodiness and rebellion—simple growing pains? At first he had thought maybe it was—only now—
Jenna let out a sigh. “Oh this is impossible.”
“What’s impossible?”
“I can’t find the chocolate peanut butter—not anywhere. What am I going to do?”
It was unbelievable. She was worried about chocolate peanut butter ice cream—when only a half-hour ago he’d found her in front of the pool hall—cowering against the wall—cornered by some wino—
‘If I hadn’t been out there in time—’ Lee recalled the fear that had coursed through him when he’d glanced out through the window to see Jenna flattened up against the bars. Bidding a hasty farewell to Groesbeck he’d stuffed the packet into his jacket pocket and run out there—
“Isn’t there another flavor that Lisa would like?” He asked her.
“Let me think—oh, here—” Standing up on tiptoe, Jenna grabbed the container. “Rocky road. Lisa likes that too.”
“Maybe you should get more than one, though. You don’t want to run out.”
“Good idea.”
Nothing to tell.
Was she being honest with him? The more Lee thought about it, the less sure he was. But if she was lying to him what was the truth? And what had she been thinking, getting out of the car?
‘I told her it was dangerous—I ordered her to stay put.’
Like that had ever worked, he thought drily. God knows, it had never worked with Amanda. And Jenna was her mother’s child in so many ways—barely a teenager but with her mother’s inability to stay put—her curiosity—her need to know what was going on—
Had Jenna witnessed the meeting with Groesbeck? And if she had, how much had she seen? He’d told her it was film business but from watching her face he could tell that she wasn’t entirely convinced.
It had been so easy when she was young—when she pretty much believed whatever he told her. But now—
“Someday we’ll have to tell her.” Amanda’s words rang in his ears. Lee had always pictured ‘someday’ as being in the far future. When she was sixteen, maybe—maybe even seventeen.
Certainly not now. Not after all she’d already been through this last year—it would just be overwhelming.
“Dad, are you going to tell me?” Jenna’s voice broke into his reverie.
“Tell you what, munchkin?” Lee fought to keep his voice as calm as possible.
“Whether I should get mint chocolate chip too?”
“I—” Relief overwhelmed him—and for a moment he just stared at the canister in her hand, his mind completely blank. “I think with rocky road and sherbet that would probably be overkill.”
“You’re right—I think we’re good with these four.”
“Yeah, you’ll all have so much sugar in you that you’ll never go to sleep,” he teased.
Jenna rolled her eyes. “Da-ad, honestly.”
“Only saying,” Lee replied. “Do you need anything else?” She shook her head. “Well in that case we’re good to go.” He followed Jenna as she wheeled the cart up to the checkout line.
“I hope that weird lady isn’t doing checkout today,” Jenna said.
The sudden change in subject threw him completely—he stared at his daughter. “What weird lady?”
“You know,” Jenna said. “The one last month who dropped all our cans that one time and handed one of the cans back to you with a piece of paper wrapped around it?”
“Yeah—that was definitely weird.”
“I’ve never seen her though, not after that day—maybe she got fired.”
“Maybe,” Lee agreed, his mind racing. The information that contact had passed on had helped to unmask an unscrupulous arms dealer. At the time he hadn’t thought that Jenna had noticed the paper though—he thought that he’d pocketed it pretty quickly.
What else had she noticed? What other things had she seen?
“Someday we’ll have to tell her.”
Lee had a sinking feeling that the moment would come soon.
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Sunday, January 27, 2002
IFF
1:30 PM
“Looks like he came through this time,” Billy said.
“Yeah--took him long enough,” Lee replied.
“Better late than never,” Billy told him. “We should know more once we run it through cryptology of course. It does look as though some of the information may be from Amanda.”
“With any luck it’ll be something that helps to bust this ring wide open.”
“Let’s hope so. Did Groesbeck say anything?”
“Well,” Lee hesitated. “To be honest, didn’t have much of a chance to talk. I saw Jenna outside and I—”
“Wait a minute—Jenna was there?”
Lee nodded. “We were shopping for birthday party supplies—it really couldn’t be helped.”
“Couldn’t you have done that at another time?”
“Well, Dotty was going somewhere for the day and she wanted to go. I couldn’t leave her at home by herself.”
“Understood. Did Jenna get into any trouble?”
“Just a little run-in with a wino,” Lee replied, running his hand back through his hair. “To be honest I think she was probably more startled than frightened. She was supposed to stay in the car, Billy.”
“But she didn’t.” Billy grinned. “That sounds oddly familiar. But at least the meeting went well.”
“Yeah.” Lee fell silent, staring down at the carpet.
“Something else on your mind, Scarecrow?” Billy prompted the agent.
“Not really—just that everything with Jenna seems to be up and down these days,” Lee said. “Half the time I don’t know if I’m coming or going. I know you’re going to say that’s typical, but I just have a feeling.”
“What kind of a feeling?”
“That something else is going on with her—something more than just being a teenager.”
Billy’s face darkened. “Something bad? Dangerous?”
“No—” Lee let out his breath in a whoosh. “Nothing like that. At least I don’t think so. But there’s something—something I’m missing.”
“It could be very innocent,” Billy said. “A fight with a friend, trouble with a teacher—even boy troubles.”
Boy troubles. Lee shuddered inwardly—God forbid. He sat down on the sofa. “I don’t know—right know all I have are suspicions—I don’t know anything for certain. You know it wasn’t all that long ago that she came to me with these things—confided in me. Now—she’s just so secretive all of a sudden.”
“She’s getting older, Lee—she wants her privacy—she’s pulling away and I know that can hurt.” Billy looked at him closely as he spoke. “But I have a feeling that if you’re patient she’ll come to you eventually.”
Come to him eventually—how long would that take? For the thousandth time he wished Amanda were here—if he could only talk to her—she’d know exactly what to do. “I hope so,” Lee said out loud.
“She will, trust me,” Billy replied. “And keep me posted—I’m here if you need to talk.”
“Thanks, Billy.”
Tuesday, January 29, 2002
Kenmore Middle School
11:45 AM
“So?” Lisa said. “What do you think of him? Is he cute or what?”
Jenna looked down at the photo that Lisa had handed her— the boy she saw was tanned and very blond, with bright blue eyes and a slightly crooked smile. “What’s his name again?”
“Germy,” Christy grinned, biting into her apple.
“No,” Lisa elbowed Christy. “It’s Jeremy. Jeremy McCormick. Don’t you think he’s good looking?”
“He is very nice looking,” Jenna agreed.
“Nice looking?” Lisa repeated incredulously. “Jenna—he’s hot. He looks like Jonathan—”
“—Taylor Thomas,” Jenna and Christy chorused together. A flush rose up in Lisa’s cheeks.
“We haven’t forgotten your obsession with Jonathan—” Jenna said.
“Not Jonathan,” Christy teased. “It’s JTT, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right, JTT,” Jenna said. “Remember how you had posters of him all over the place? You even wrote him a love letter.”
“So? You wrote one to Zac Hanson,” Lisa reminded her.
“Oh yeah—that,” Jenna winced, recalling her short-lived infatuation with the pop group Hanson. Dad had claimed that if he heard ‘Mmm…Bop’ one more time his brain was going to leak out through his ears. “And then there’s Christy and her thing with Leo.”
“Hey! I’m still going to be Mrs. DiCaprio—one day,” Christy took a bite of her burger. “But that’s beside the point. We’re talking about Lisa and Germy—Jeremy.”
“Whatever—at least my relationship is based in reality,” Lisa retorted. Christy stuck out her tongue in response.
Jenna looked down at the photo she still held. “He’s awfully tanned.”
“Jeremy came here from Hawaii—his dad was stationed there,” Lisa said. “He knows how to surf and everything, isn’t that great?”
“Great, but he won’t be able to surf on the Potomac,” Christy said. “But you’re right though, Lisa. He is really cute.”
“But how are you going to have a relationship when he goes to Williamsburg Middle and you go to Kenmore?” Jenna asked.
“Well we can still email,” Lisa replied. “And talk on the phone, and we can see each other at the mall, maybe—or the skating rink. Oh, and he bought me this rainbow ring, see?”
Jenna looked down at the painted wooden ring on her friend’s finger. “It really is pretty, Lisa.”
Lisa smiled. “Yeah, he got it at Chincoteague and dropped it off at my house—it came in a pretty box, too—I was so surprised when I opened the front door and saw it there.”
“You get to open the front door?” Jenna asked.
“Yeah, sure,” Lisa said. “It’s really not that strange, seriously.”
Not that strange? As far back as Jenna could remember she was never allowed to open or go to the door by herself—that was the rule. It was a safety issue—at least that’s what her parents had always told her.
“You don’t know who might be at the door, munchkin—we don’t want anything to happen to you.” That’s what dad had said. The same rule applied to the telephone. Jenna had just always assumed that everyone’s parents had that rule too. But now—she looked at Christy.
“Christy, can you go to your front door by yourself?” she asked.
Christy nodded. “Yeah. I always have. It’s not a biggie.”
“Face it,” Lisa told her. “Not everyone’s parents are as uber-protective as yours. But on the other hand, if I’d been kidnapped my parents would probably never let me out of the house.”
“That’s true,” Jenna replied.
“Yeah, but what could be so dangerous about answering a door?” Christy said.
Christy was right, Jenna thought. What could be so dangerous? And exactly what—or who—were her parents afraid of?
‘Come on,’ she told herself. ‘Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.’
Then again, maybe it did—and when you added it up on top of everything else—the meetings, the phone calls, the woman in the mansion— the man she’d seen when she spied on Dad—it did seem awfully strange.
Spied on Dad—for some reason that phrase struck a chord. Secret meetings, different languages—the way dad had spoken to Billy on the phone—
‘Oh boy, if I wasn’t crazy before, I know I’m crazy now—’ Certifiable, because it couldn’t possibly be true—
“Jenna?” Lisa’s voice. Jenna turned towards her friend. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Jenna smiled. “Sure—I guess I just zoned out for a minute—that’s all.”
“Just don’t do that at your slumber party,” Christy said.
“No,” Lisa said. “In fact if anyone does fall asleep my sister says we have to put their underwear in the freezer.”
“Oh yeah,” Christy snorted. “Jenna’s parents would love that. Anyway, I’m bringing a bunch of movies and games—”
Spies. Her friend’s voices faded into the background as the thoughts cycled around Jenna’s head.
Couldn’t be true—couldn’t be true—
But what if it was?
One thing she did know—there would be an awful lot to write in her notebook later on.
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4247 Maplewood Dr.
5:30 PM
Mom and Dad are spies.
Jenna sat on the family room sofa, staring down at what she’d just written. She couldn’t leave it like that, a statement. Not when she didn’t know for sure. After a brief hesitation she changed the period into a question mark—a big question mark.
But was it really? Looking at all the evidence she’d written down it actually seemed to make some sort of sense. The strange meetings—weird things over the years—the holster, the different languages—even the way they rescued her. It all fit.
‘But then that means that Billy is a spy, and Francine is a spy, Leatherneck—even that one guy Beaman—’ Though actually she could believe Francine—she seemed like maybe she could be a glamorous spy type. And IFF would have to be a spy organization posing as a film company. But then there was Jeannie, Grandma—even Phillip and Jamie. Even Dr. Pfaff—as weird as that seemed. Who was and who wasn’t? It was the same conundrum she’d run into with the secret identity thing—if one was definitely true then logically the others could be too—just like the truth tables they were studying in math. What was that word—tautology? She couldn’t remember.
“Jenna?” Grandma came in from the kitchen, spatula in hand. Luckily Jenna managed to stuff the notebook under a cushion before she saw anything.
“Hey, Grandma,” she said brightly—probably a little too brightly. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Well I was going to ask you to set the table,” Grandma looked at her closely. “Your father will be home soon and I wanted to have dinner ready. Are you all right?”
“Sure,” Jenna replied. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Grandma said. “You seem awfully nervous to me.”
“Nervous? No, I’m fine.” Jenna practically jumped to her feet. “Here—let me help you with that table—we don’t want Dad to be waiting for his meal.”
“I guess we don’t,” Grandma said. “Darling—you don’t drink coffee, do you?”
Jenna shook her head.
“Take my advice then—don’t start.”
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7:00 PM
“Is the coast clear?” Lee asked, poking his head around the doorjamb.
“Yes,” Dotty said. “Jenna’s upstairs doing her homework.”
“Good,” Lee came inside, carrying two large bags. He sat down on the family room sofa, placing the bags in front of him. “I don’t want Jenna to see her presents before Friday, except for this guy here—” he pulled out a lavender teddy bear with a purple bow around its neck. “I’m going to give this to her tomorrow morning for her actual birthday.”
“Oh Lee, that’s adorable.” Dotty came in from the kitchen, dishtowel in hand. “What else did you get?”
“New pajamas, a robe—slippers—” Lee’s head was down as he rummaged through the bag. “Oh and this—this is the big present.”
“What is it?”
“An IPod.” Lee held it up, still in its plastic packaging. “I hope Jenna knows how to use it because I’m clueless.”
“Trust me, they all know how to use that stuff,” Dotty replied. “That’s an awful lot for a birthday, Lee.”
“Yeah, I know,” Lee said. “But it’s her first birthday since the kidnapping—it’s kind of special.”
“That’s true,” Dotty admitted. “Will Amanda be here for the party?”
Lee sighed. “With any luck. I know she wants to be here—it’s just difficult right now.”
“Well if I know my daughter,” Dotty said. “She’ll do everything possible. But hopefully Jenna will understand if she can’t make it.”
“Yeah, hopefully,” Lee grimaced as he shifted slightly in his seat. One of the cushions seemed to be off somehow—there was something—something hidden here. He managed to work it out from underneath the cushions.
“What is that?” Dotty asked.
“Don’t know—it’s looks like a notebook of some kind.” Lee turned it over in his hands. Jenna’s name was on the front, written in purple ink. One of her school notebooks? If so, what was it doing under a sofa cushion? Absently he opened the cover.
“Oh, that’s probably Jenna’s journal—she was writing in it before I called her to set the table.”
“Journal?” Lee repeated.
“Yes—Amanda used to write in hers all the time,” Dotty said. “Just normal teen stuff.”
Normal teen stuff—personally Lee wasn’t sure that anything to do with teens was ‘normal’. Absently he opened the cover—seeing a sea of purple ink. His daughter, he thought wryly—she could never use a normal color. The writing was a little small for him—he pulled out his reading glasses for a closer look. ‘Strange Things’ that was the heading on the first page.
1. Dad lied about going to the restroom—met with strange man—
‘Oh my God—’ as Lee read down the page his stomach began to twist in knots—was it just him or had it suddenly become very hot in here?
6. Woman who looks like Mom, wearing a fancy dress and visiting a strange house—correction, strange mansion—in a limo??
That explained why Jenna had been looking at that house next door—why she’d asked him questions. She had seen Amanda—what she must have thought—he turned the page, reading all the stuff his daughter had written—pages and pages—not just recent events but things from childhood—
“Oh, and speaking of Jenna’s birthday, I still couldn’t find that book she mentioned—about the girl whose parents are leading a double life? The man at Barnes and Noble had no idea what I was talking about. So I’ll see what else I can find for her.”
“Yeah—good idea.” Double life, secret identity—it was all written here. Chances are there had been no book at all—just Jenna’s way of bouncing the idea off her Grandmother to see what she thought. This explained so much—the strange behavior—everything—
‘All this time—I thought we were doing a good job of keeping this from her.’
How wrong he had been. The words blurred in front of his eyes—suddenly it seemed very hard to breathe. The notebook totaled about five pages in all—including the Saturday meeting with Groesbeck. And then Lee looked down, reading the last sentence. That was when his blood froze.
‘My Parents are Spies’
After that sentence Jenna had drawn a big question mark. So she still hadn’t been entirely sure—but nevertheless—
‘She’s too young—she’s not ready—this can’t be happening, not now.’
Except it was—
Hastily he slammed the notebook shut and stood, putting the volume in the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Ahh—I just—I have a little errand to run,” he told Dotty. “It’s not a big deal—just a little thing I forgot to do.”
“Is everything all right?” she asked him.
“Everything’s fine—I should be back very soon,” Lee said. “Oh, and would you mind—”
“Don’t worry—I’ll put this stuff where Jenna will never find it.”
“Thanks, Dotty—I shouldn’t be long.”
He knew just the person he needed to talk to.
TBC