UNSEEN (3 page)

Jenna fumbled with the phone, "Yeah. Hold on, Jake's talking to me."

"
We can talk about it later."

"
You sure?"

"
Yes. I'm sure." He leaned over the couch and gave her a kiss. "I'll see you tonight."

Her brow furrowed. "I might be late."

It was easy for him to guess why. Jenna had worked hard to secure the understudy position for a major musical production at the Sunbury Theater, and today was her day to run lines with the cast. She’d heard rumors of a talent scout stopping by, so this was a big day for her.

"
Knock 'em dead," he whispered.

"
They're as good as dead." She smiled.

Jenna went back to her conversation, and Jake grabbed his briefcase off the counter. His eyes fell on the beautiful white flower laying in the grout between the rose colored tiles. He wanted to just throw the thing in the trash, but it was easy enough to fill a glass from the sink and plop it in. Besides, Jenna liked flowers. Perhaps he would even score a point or two. The little flower fit perfectly in the tall thin glass. Jake admired his handiwork, for a fraction of a second, before heading out to work.

To his relief the old woman was nowhere to be found.

Chapter 3

Jake ran down the granite steps of his apartment building, cell phone pressed firmly against his ear. "Yes. I have three pages of leads. I plan to be at it all morning... Yes, I know there's a deadline." His mind was so lost in the conversation, he missed the little girl hopping on the sidewalk and almost slammed right into her. She hopped backwards, lost her balance and toppled to the ground.

"
Are you okay?" He juggled his briefcase and phone. "I'm sorry. Can you hold on a second, Bob? What? Yeah. Okay. I'll see you in a sec." He flipped the phone closed and bent down. "Are you hurt, honey?"

The little girl seemed dazed at first, but quickly recovered and climbed back to her feet. "Ah'm okay. Nuthin’ ith bwoken."

He looked her over anyway. All he needed was to start the day off with a lawsuit. "I'm really sorry, sweetheart. I didn't see you there."

She looked up with big eyes. "Don’t wowwy. Thumtimes ah’m gwothed in thtuff too."

He squinted down at her. "Gwossed in stuff?"

She squinted back, and pursed her lips. "You know, in-gwothed."

He stared at her blankly, trying to translate in his head.

She put her hands on her hips. "Not wookin’ weyer ah'm gowin."

"
Oh!" He laughed. "Yes. I need to watch where I'm going."

"
With all that mutho math, yaw gonna huwt thum-one."

He gave her a quizzical expression. It was odd to hear one so young using the term muscle mass, and the way she stood facing toward him, engaged in the conversation, reminded him more of an adult than a child.

She held her hands clasped in front of her pink ruffled shirt. "But ah fawgive you.” Her eyes were trained on his as she spoke. "It hoppinth."

He smiled and shook his head. "Well—I will try harder to watch where I'm going."

The little girl shrugged. "Okay. Thee you wound."

He looked at her amazed.

"
Unless theyor thumpin elth you wanna thay."

"
No," he blinked. "Ah, hey..." He looked behind him, realizing for the first time that he was talking to a toddler. "Where's your mommy? You shouldn’t be out here alone."

"
In dayor," she said, pointing to the apartment building.

Jake remembered the news piece about the Cape murderer, and a nervous snake curled in his gut. "She lets you play outside by yourself?"

"
No, sheeth right dayor." The little girl pointed to the front of the apartment building. Jake could see the profile of a very pregnant woman sorting through a handful of mail just inside the glass doors.

"
That's your mommy?"

"
Yup, lookin’ at mayol."

"
Well you better catch up before she misses you."

The little girl smiled up at him. "It wath nithe to meet you."

"
It was nice meeting you, too.” Jake smiled down at her. "I'll see you around."

She began climbing up the granite steps. Jake turned and jogged down to the parking lot and got in his car.

The ride across town was uneventful. But the time he normally would have spent rehearsing sales scripts was spent watching the scene with the little girl play out over and over in his mind. He couldn’t believe how mature she’d acted. Most of the children Jake knew were loud and full of energy. They definitely didn’t know words like muscle mass or engrossed. And, they certainly wouldn't have recognized the subtle cue that a conversation was coming to an end.

Jake slammed on the brakes, only narrowly avoiding a collision with a sandy-haired boy with freckles. His mom and two freckly sisters had already reached the other side, but he had stopped in the middle of the road and was looking up at something of interest.

A horn bleated behind Jake’s car, then sounded again.

"
Lady, do you mind!" Jake yelled out the passenger window at the woman on the sidewalk.

She looked around, then gave him a puzzled look. The girls glared.

Jake glared back.

Was she his mom? She had the same fair skin and freckles and sandy blond hair.

"
Hey! The light’s green!" screamed the driver behind him, followed by another beep.

Jake gripped his steering wheel and leaned toward the passenger window again. "Lady! You want to get your kid under control?"

"
Are you talking to me?" she hollered back.

Jake shook his head in frustration. What was going on with these people and their children? Parental neglect was running rampant in Sunbury. He rocked back into his seat, and stared out at the sandy haired boy, who was now staring back.

Jake tapped his horn, and scowled. At this point there were multiple horns going off, and every pedestrian in sight was looking in his direction—as though he was the problem. Were they all blind? Did they not see the boy in the middle of the intersection?

His hand shot to the door handle, but, before he could open the door, the boy turned and started hopping toward the curb.

Jake stabbed his foot on the gas pedal, and the tires screeched as he peeled off down the road. He slammed the stick shift into second, then third, but forced himself to refrain from punching the gas pedal a third time. He didn't need to add a speeding ticket to his list of irritations for the day; his finances couldn't handle one more shred of debt. In the end analysis, there was simply no money to float a temper tantrum at this time.

He pushed on through traffic, staring numbly at the bumper of the car in front of him. In his mind he could see the mother and the other pedestrians with their judgmental stares and frowns of disapproval. Why were they looking at him? Why weren’t they looking at the child obstructing traffic?

None of it made any sense.

Chapter 4

Jake stared at the papers littering his desk, then slid the phone in toward him. There were enough names to keep him busy for several days, but he didn't have days. He needed to finalize at least two contracts before the close of business, or there were going to be cut backs. Last year it was a week of vacation time. His boss, Bob Miller, had gathered everyone in the conference room and explained that the company could not sustain four weeks paid vacation time, and that he was deeply sorry, but something had to be cut. Jake believed him. Bob had introduced health insurance initiatives, 501ks, and in-work fitness programs to help relieve stress and make the team more productive. There was no law requiring him to do these things, and it wasn't a corporate tactic to draw employees from other software firms. Data Tech was the only software company within eighty miles of Sunbury. Bob was just a good guy, and a great boss.

Jake considered himself the luckiest man on earth to have snagged a job straight out of high school. It was a data entry position and didn't pay much, but it got his foot in the door. In four short years he’d been able to triple his salary, hopping between jobs within the company, and now he was on the short list for junior programmer. But he had to run sales calls first; it was a right of passage within the company. Every programmer had to know the software well enough to convince someone else they needed to buy it. It was also Bob's personal philosophy that a programmer hungry enough to make a sale is a programmer hungry enough to make a program the client wants to buy.

"
Hey, Jake."

He looked up.

Debbie Jones, Bob's secretary, stood sideways in the entrance to his cubicle showing off her enormous belly. She looked like a snake that had just swallowed a hamster.

"
You need to cut back on the brews, Deb.” He pointed. "You’re getting a pot belly.”

She scowled playfully. "Bob wants to talk to you in his office at nine, okay?"

"
Did he say why?"

"
Nope. He probably just wants to go over sales prospects with you."

Jake looked at the papers on his desk again. There wasn't room to add more prospects, but maybe Bob had some closers. It would be a relief to work on a couple that had already been primed. He leaned back in his chair with a squeak and smiled up at Debbie. "So, when you gonna have that thing?"

She rubbed her belly, and her eyes sparkled. "Three more weeks, end of July."

"
Do you know what it is yet? I mean, other than a baby?" He froze, as if something startling had just occurred to him. "It is a baby, right?"

She ignored his joke. "Jack and I want to be surprised, so we didn't find out. I thought everyone knew that."

"
We-ll, I don't get up to the fourth floor very often. I think they're afraid I'll lead an insurrection."

"
He really has you busting your butt, doesn't he?"

"
Yeah, but it’ll only be for awhile. Soon this will all be nothing but a fond memory, and I'll be coding with the big boys."

"
I bet you will," she said, backing into the aisle and disappearing behind the partition. "Nine a.m. In Bob's office.”

He saw the top of her head bobbing away.

"
Yes, ma'am."

Jake looked at the clock. He had fifteen minutes, enough time to make one call, if all went well. He slid the pages around searching for the most promising lead. It would be nice to go to the meeting with something already in the can.

As he scanned the sales documents, he gradually became aware of a low steady thumping coming down the aisle. Jake turned and looked, but there was no head above the office dividers. The stomping got closer. And louder. Soon a little blond boy appeared in the entrance to his cubicle.

"
Amazing," said the little boy, panting. "This is definitely my favorite part. I don't know why you guys don't do this all the time."

Jake blinked.

The boy bolted off down the aisle, his loud stomping heard clearly as he circled the entire outside of the sales office. Jake stood and looked over his divider. He could still hear the stomping, but couldn't see the boy. He looked around. A few co-workers were talking on their phones in nearby cubicles, and Debbie was standing near the elevator with someone from accounting. No one was paying any attention to the running boy. No one. Where was this child's mother? And why didn't anyone care to stop him from making this unholy racket?