Plain Jane (24 page)

Read Plain Jane Online

Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Plain Jane
5.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“No. No, not at all,” he said, relief flooding his voice. “I need to get back to the office myself. Tomorrow we leave for Aspen.”
“Please, Todd, let me pay. I was the one who invited you to lunch.”
“We keep a running tab here. Don't worry about the bill. It was so nice to see you again. Let's do it again sometime.”
“Thank you. Thanks, too, for all this material,” she said, indicating the manila envelope.
“It was nothing, Jane. I was glad to do it.”
She put her napkin down and stood up. “I'll be in touch about the article. Will it be all right to call you if I hit a snag?”
“Certainly.”
In the lobby, Jane said, “Don't wait for me, Todd. You go ahead. I want to go to the ladies' room. Thanks again for lunch.”
“My pleasure.” He gave the hatcheck girl a five-dollar bill, then handed Jane her coat.
In the tastefully decorated bathroom, Jane sat down on a velvet-covered chair and gasped for breath. Mike was going to throttle her when she told him what she'd done. Trixie would call it kicking ass. Big-time. “You have a big mouth, Jane Lewis,” she said to her mirrored reflection. “Not only do you have a big mouth, you don't know when to keep it shut. Now he knows you know.” She started to turn away. “Wait a minute, what do I know?” she said, turning back to the mirror. She knew that one of Connie's rapists had worn a thick wrist bracelet and the other had been wearing some sort of medallion around his neck. She knew Connie suspected that Todd knew about the rape. She knew Connie's parents hadn't liked him and that he'd wanted money rather than useful household wedding gifts. She knew he'd lied when he said he hadn't known what to do with himself for months after Connie's death. If that were true, how could he have gotten to know the woman he married only one year later? And she knew that there was something weird about Brian Ramsey, Todd's former teammate, seeking her out for treatment. There was something she was missing, but at the moment she didn't have a clue as to what it was. “Shit!” she said succinctly.
“That about sums it up,” a waitress said over her shoulder as she entered the ladies' room.
“Excuse me. I just had lunch with Todd Prentice. I think he comes here a lot. Do you know him by any chance?” Jane asked, grabbing at straws.
“Are you kidding?” The waitress rolled her eyes. “He's hit on all of us at one time or another. He's a lousy tipper, too. Why?”
“Oh, he just hit on me, too, and I was wondering what kind of guy he is.”
“He's the kind of guy that cheats on his wife. Give him a wide berth is my advice.”
“Thanks. I will. Have a nice holiday.” She tossed the manila envelope into the waste bin.
“You, too.”
Jane pulled out onto the highway and accelerated to the speed limit. Every two minutes she checked her rearview mirror to see if anyone was following her. She was so full of anxiety and tension she thought she would explode.
She headed straight for the McGuire farm, to Trixie and Fred. They would calm her down.
 
 
Trixie needed a break. Wrapping Christmas presents was a taxing job. She'd been at it for hours. Spools and rolls of gaily colored ribbon were everywhere. Yards and yards of paper covered the long dining-room table, the buffet, and the server. Dozens of presents were lined up against the walls waiting to be delivered to the police department. It was Trixie's way of making good on her promise for the use of the police car. If she ever finished, Fred would deliver the presents in time for the annual Christmas party at seven o'clock. Only seven more to go. Fred was absolutely useless when it came to tying bows and getting Scotch tape on without wrinkles in it. Two left thumbs.
Flash prowled among the presents, sniffing and poking them with his snout. One moment he was contentedly browsing and the next he was running to the kitchen door, barking.
Company.
“Janie, girl! What brings you here in the middle of the afternoon ? Start wrapping, honey. Fred has to get these to the Christmas party before seven. I know something is wrong, so talk while you wrap. Each present has a name stuck on it, so be extra careful when you fill out the tag.”
Jane reached for a roll of paper. “You aren't going to believe what I did, Trixie. God, I don't believe I did it either. You know me and my mouth! Just the other day I convinced myself that Todd Prentice should be added to the mix. You know what, Trix, I was right. I had him so rattled I thought he was going to hop right out of his Jockeys. He had three, that's three, Trix, double Rob Roys. Didn't eat a thing. At the time I thought I was being clever. Now I'm not so sure. I might have gone a little too far.”
“Let's take a break. Coffee or tea?”
“Neither. How about some ginger ale?”
Jane sat on the floor rubbing Flash's belly as she recounted her luncheon with Todd Prentice. “I honest to God told him I still had Connie's clothes in my old trunk. Do you have the bag or do I have it? I can't even remember.”
“I have it. You were going to take it a couple of times, but you never did. Once you even had it in your hand to take with you and you changed your mind. Unless, of course, you took it and didn't tell me. When we finish wrapping, we can check the garage. Do you want to go to the party with Fred and me tonight?”
“Thanks, but no. Mike is coming over. I still have some of my own Christmas stuff to do. What do you think about all this, Trixie?”
“I think you're bringing it all to a head. But to tell you the truth, I'm not sure if it's good or bad. What's your next move?”
“That's just it, Trixie, I don't know. I suppose I need to get out a magnifying glass and look through my college annual to see who's wearing thick bracelets and medallions. If they're football players, I might be onto something. And I need to go through the rest of Connie's disk. But other than that—I don't know where to go from here. What would you do if you were me?”
“Sit back and wait,” Trixie said without a moment's thought. “If Prentice is as you say, in the mix, you put him on alert. Correct me if I'm wrong here. You think he was somehow personally involved with your friend's rape that night?”
“It depends on your definition of personal. He wasn't there, if that's what you mean. Oh God, I forgot to tell you about the disk. Stop what you're doing and pay attention, Trixie.”
Trixie's face went from curious to amazement to disbelief as Jane recited the events of finding the disk and reading it. “I'm not even going to ask who you think might have put your name on the disk. Now I see where you're coming from. I don't like this, Janie. If Prentice is involved, and I don't know how he would be, but let's say he is, he's going to alert everyone. I don't even know who everyone is. I should be able to figure this out since it's what I do for a living, but I can't. The boys that harmed your friend that night are now grown men with families and probably good jobs. They won't want anything to disturb their tidy little lives. If any of them find out that you're causing a stir there's no telling what they will do. You could be in danger. Do you think Brian Ramsey was sent to you with a concocted story as a sort of red herring? You know, to see if you knew anything or to get a reaction out of you? I hate clichés, but if that's the case, they should have let sleeping dogs lie.”
“That's exactly what I thought, Trixie. But then Betty Vance came along. Was all that planned, or was it a coincidence ? Was all that to give me a nudge to see if I'd push the envelope? Maybe it's all one big mind game.”
“Sweetie, how would you feel about having Flash stay with you for a while? Two dogs are better than one. He adores you. Fred and I are going to worry ourselves sick over these new developments.”
“No. Olive is good. She knows the moment someone turns off the highway. She can literally smell the UPS guy's truck. Mike is with me at night. I think he might be moving in. I'm
hoping
he will. I'm not home during the day, and once my practice is gone, I'll be here working with you. If it will ease your mind, I can have an alarm system put in on the first floor.”
“Do that, honey. It will definitely ease my mind.”
“I'll call right after Christmas. They aren't going to be able to get to me till after the New Year, though. No one conducts business between Christmas and New Year's.” Jane went back to wrapping presents. “So, how's the new book coming?” she asked, changing the subject.
“You mean
Pigskin Bloodbath
?”
“Egads! Is that what you're calling it?”
“What else? It deals with the murder of an entire college football team. This one was Fred's idea. You know how he loves football.”
Jane's curiosity was piqued. “Who's the killer?”
“I think it's the guy in charge of the point spread, whatever that is. A fixed championship game or something. I've been so busy with Flash, I just gave Fred his head and let him run with it.”
“Oh! Trixie, do you mind if I go into your storage room and fish out some of your older books, the ones Mike doesn't have? I want to give them to him for Christmas. Will you autograph them?”
“Sure, but don't tell him the truth.”
“I won't.”
“Go get them. Fred will sign them for you.”
“I love you, Trixie,” Jane said, throwing her arms around the little woman.
 
 
It was five o' clock and already dark when Jane parked her car alongside the steps leading to her back porch. The skin on her forearms prickled as she climbed from the car, ever grateful to Fred for insisting on the sensor lights. She bolted up the steps and into the house. Olive welcomed her as though she'd been gone for a month. “Do you want to go for a run, Olive? Around the house a few times then right back in. I'm locking this door so use your doggie door. I'm going to change my clothes. You better be in here when I get back down here. Understood?” The springer looked at her with questioning eyes, her tail swishing back and forth. “It's okay, I'm just spooking myself. Ten minutes.” Olive bellied out the doggie door and was gone.
Jane walked through the house to her office, turning on lights as she went along. Her gaze swept the room and settled on her desk. The Lucite container was sitting on top of her computer keyboard, the green frog on top of the monitor. She whirled around. The tremor in her legs forced her to sit down. “Okay, what is it this time?” she demanded, her voice so shaky she hardly recognized it. She answered her own question by opening the Lucite box and removing the disks. She counted them, once then a second time. They were all there. The rubber band was still at the bottom of the box. She knew the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a rush of cold air swirl around the room.
Jane whirled about. “Is anyone there?” she asked, peering into the dark corners of the room.
“Just me, Billy,”
a voice answered.
“I'm over here, next to the bookcase. Bad things are happening. You have to be careful.”
Jane clenched the armrests of her chair and stared at the apparition. For some reason she wasn't afraid. “All those other times I saw you—I wasn't dreaming, was I?”
“I told you, you weren't, but you wouldn't believe me.”
“So . . . what you're saying here is that you're a ghost. A real live ghost.”
“Yes. I know you don't believe in ghosts, but we really do exist. And we don't all rattle chains or try to scare people. I prefer the word
spirit
opposed to
ghost,
and I definitely do not like being called a spook.”
“Okay, I can accept that. I think. Was it you who moved the box of disks and taped that paper to the disk?”
“Yes. Did it help you?”
“I'm sure you already know the answer to that. Tell me how you knew that letter was on that disk? More to the point, what do you know? Share your thoughts with me, Billy.”
“You're too isolated way out here. This is a very old house and easy to break into. I don't want you to worry, though. Jeeter and I will watch out for you. He's playing with Olive in the kitchen. I wish you would call your friend.”
“Who? Mike?”
“No. Your lady friend. The one who is troubled.”
“If you're referring to Betty, I can't do that. She's the patient of another colleague, and I can't poach. That means it wouldn't be professional.”
“I think she needs your help.”
“If she needed my help, she would call me. She hasn't called all week. She is having dinner with my godparents on Christmas.”

Other books

A Most Improper Rumor by Emma Wildes
Hard to Resist by Shanora Williams
Onward by Howard Schultz, Joanne Lesley Gordon
Sophie the Hero by Lara Bergen
StarMan by Sara Douglass
The Ophir by Irene Patino