Fear Familiar Bundle (150 page)

"I doubt that very much." Jennifer kept her face as controlled as he had earlier. "Thanks." She hurried out of the police station and got back into her car. Grand Street Press wouldn't be happy with the recent turn of events, but she had to report in.

F
AMILIAR SAT OUTSIDE
Daisy Adams's bedroom door and listened to the little girl tell her mother what had happened that afternoon. A hot bath, fresh pajamas and a dinner upstairs had put Daisy in a calmer frame of mind.

"No, I didn't
see
Uncle Eugene," Daisy admitted. "But it had to be him. We were in the garden all alone. There was no one else there."

"We'll look into it," Amanda assured her daughter. "There has to be some logical explanation. I can't believe Eugene would do such a thing." She spoke softly.

"I'm not lying," Daisy said, her voice breaking with the strain of her emotions.

"I know you're not," Amanda soothed. "We believe you, sweetheart. Certainly someone pinched you and locked you in the shed, and your father and I intend to find out who did this to you."

"I can't believe he did it," Daisy whispered. "He's always been so nice."

The ringing of the telephone ended the conversation and Familiar dodged back into the shadows as Amanda Adams left her daughter's room and picked up the phone.

"Peter." She was surprised. "Just a moment, she's right here."

She put the phone down and went to get a concerned Eleanor.

For several minutes Eleanor listened. "I'll pack up Jordan and we'll be right there, Peter. How much is the bond?" There was another pause. "I'll get it. Just hang in there until I arrive. We love you."

She replaced the receiver and looked at Amanda. "This hasn't been a very good day. Peter's in jail in Texas. He was arrested when he tried to take pictures of one of those fake safari hunts where men pay outrageous amounts of money to shoot tigers from zoos."

"How terrible." Amanda touched Eleanor's arm. "He isn't injured, is he?"

"They roughed him up some, but he's okay. He needs me to bail him out." Eleanor looked back to the room where Jordan was sleeping.

"I'll book a flight for you. Is there anything else?" Amanda put her arm around Eleanor. "You can count on me. We were like cousins when we were growing up."

"It's Familiar." Eleanor looked around for the cat. She sensed he was listening. "I can't take him to Texas."

"Then he'll stay here, as our special guest. Daisy will love having a cat, even if it's only for a few days."

"Are you sure?" Eleanor looked under the table. "Familiar has a mind of his own. He can be quite a handful."

"If he gets too rowdy, I'll take him to Eugene." Amanda smiled.

"Then you don't believe that about Eugene pinching Daisy?" Eleanor had intended to talk with Amanda and her husband as soon as Daisy had fallen asleep.

"I honestly don't know what to believe. Daisy doesn't lie, but neither does Eugene." She ran a hand lightly over her right eyebrow. "It's a mystery, but one we can look into. At least Daisy is here, safe. I called Sharon Frost. There's been no sign of Mimi, and it'll be dark in another twenty minutes."

"I'm so sorry, and I'm worried." Eleanor pushed her straight black hair back from her shoulders. "I feel like I'm abandoning Eugene in his time of crisis. I'll get Peter out of this mess, and then we'll both come back."

"And don't worry about the cat. He'll be perfectly fine."

Eleanor kissed Amanda's cheek. "It isn't Familiar I'm worried about. It's you." She put her hand on Amanda's shoulder. "Listen, Familiar is…special. He has some peculiarities that go beyond a taste for gourmet foods."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Eleanor hesitated. No one ever believed her when she tried to tell them about Familiar's adventures. They thought she was exaggerating. "Nothing." She smiled. Sometimes it was simply better not to know.

T
HE PLOT DOESN'T THICKEN
, it simply twists. I can't believe Eleanor is going to take off for Texas, but Dr. Doolittle is in something of a bind, it seems. I'm telling you, Peter is a one- man-make-trouble machine. I'll bet when he was taking pictures he was trying to get those people's faces so he could press charges. Good for him. It's horrible the way they take broken-down lions and tigers— many of them are declawed and have never been out of a cage— and shoot them ten feet from the cage door. That's a great safari. That's really something to brag about. And those so-called hunters pay thousands of dollars for the privilege.

I feel my blood pressure jacking up, and it doesn't have anything to do with cholesterol, caffeine, or lack of exercise. What I have to do is focus on the fact that now I'm the only one left to find out what's at the bottom of the accusations made against Uncle Eugene. I know that kindly old gentleman could never do such a terrible thing to a little girl, but if there was no one else in the garden…I checked for footprints, but it was useless. Hundreds of feet had trod all over the place. Little feet, big feet, wide feet, narrow feet. And the shed offered no clues. The door was latched with a rusty nail on a string. Not very technical, but effective enough to keep a small girl prisoner. The only clear fact is that Daisy was deliberately imprisoned. The door didn't accidentally stick.

I'm wondering why. Who would want to frighten Daisy Adams like that? She's a nice little girl. Not loud or mean. Who would want to pinch her and lock her in the dark? Some of the other children, those little savages, playing one of the vile pranks they find so amusing? Or someone trying to set up Eugene Legander? Or Eugene? Those are the possibilities.

I'd like to blame it on that big fat boor who crashed the party. He has a bone to pick with Eugene, and this afternoon I heard his little spiel on the radio about cat owners. That man is a menace to society. He doesn't like cats because even the dumbest cat I know is smarter than he. That Uncle Eugene told him, though. Yes, sir! Eugene to the battle. He's one feisty guy.

Eleanor is packing her bags, and I'm at sixes and sevens. The evening outside is balmy. Perfect for a stroll. I think a visit to Uncle Eugene's home is in order. Luckily it's only a few short blocks away.

Mobile is a beautiful city. The oak trees are magnificent the way they canopy the streets. And some of the old homes here are mansions. Too bad they're crowded on those little bitty yards, but I guess development takes a toll in one way or another.

I love the way the people here talk, so slow and easy. It adds just another degree of charm to a city already brimming with wonderful things.

If I'm not mistaken, that's Eugene's house. Listen! It's the sound of…my word— a manual typewriter going ninety to nothing. And it's coming from the backyard.

Was that a growl? Surely not. Uncle Eugene is a cat man. But it sounded distinctly like a bark. I'd better have a peek. Why, it's Eugene writing away. And he's excited. And he's growling with excitement. Jeez! This man loves his work.

But look at his porch. I can't believe my sharp kitty eyes. Who is that lovely creature silhouetted against the back door? What an elegant neck! What a supple back! Look at the way she arches and stretches! My God, I'm smitten! I must know her name.

This Eugene, he attracts lovely creatures. Feline and human. Speak of the devil, here's that blue-eyed spitfire now, Jennifer Barkley. Ah, the perfect name. Miss Spitfire. And while she's here to keep Eugene company, I'd better check back at the Adamses'. I want to be there to tell Eleanor goodbye and at least pretend I'm going to behave. My little stay in Mobile holds a lot of promise. I'm going to have to figure out a way to get introduced to that sexy kitten I saw at Eugene's. My heart belongs to Clotilde, that's true, but there's no harm in admiring the feline form. Especially when it is grace in motion. Ah, the swish of that tail. Perfection.

"J
ENNIFER
." Eugene stood up at his writing table and went forward to greet her with a hug and kiss.

Jennifer hugged the writer, but she saw the deep concern he tried so hard not to show. Eugene's solution to worry was to work like a maniac. "There's been no sign of Mimi," she said. "And I spoke with Amanda a few minutes ago. Daisy believes it was you. She doesn't want to believe it, but she can't remember anyone else in the garden. And more bad news, Eleanor has had to rush to Texas to help Peter with a project he's become involved in." Jennifer left out the detail that Peter Curry, internationally respected veterinarian and animal protector, was in jail. She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping for forgiveness for the omission. The news would only upset Eugene and there was nothing either of them could do about it. They had their hands full. In the span of the afternoon, suspicions about Eugene had begun to grow. Ugly suspicions and dark rumors— fed by Crush Bonbon and his outrageous, dangerous radio commentary.

"Mimi will turn up." Eugene's chin lifted. "She's a very intelligent child. She has my complete confidence. And as for Peter Curry, Eleanor will get him out of boiling water. She's been doing it for years now."

Jennifer knew that much of Eugene's calm was bravado. He was a man who kept his worries private and, out of respect for that, she changed the subject. "How is the book coming?"

"I've almost finished the final draft of the last chapter," Eugene said, signaling to his worktable. "
The Lizard King
is almost complete. I'll be ready for the reading next Saturday."

Jennifer glanced at the neat stack of manuscript. She was always amazed that Eugene could work on a manual typewriter and produce pages without error. He said it was a talent he'd developed as a secret agent after World War II. She didn't actually believe him— but then again, with Eugene Legander, anything was possible. Anything at all.

"I can't wait, Eugene." She gave him a hug. In the time she'd worked with him, he'd become more a father to her than a client. It wasn't that she failed to take her work seriously. She did that, and she knew she was good at it. But she couldn't deny she was personally involved with Eugene. He was family to her— and invaluable to the publisher.

"Why don't we invite that interesting young man from the newspaper over for a glass of brandy?"

Eugene's question caught her off guard. "James Tenet?" She couldn't believe it.

"That's his name. He seemed rather charming." Eugene's look was innocent.

"If we asked him over, he'd think we were trying to bribe him not to run that story." The idea of James Tenet's company made her panicky. She felt a prick of excitement at the mention of his name, and also a little dread. He liked tormenting her. He enjoyed getting her riled. And he was so damnably good at it.

"The man isn't a fool, Jennifer. He can't possibly believe we're trying to control the press with one glass of brandy." Eugene stacked his already neat pages. "I'll give him a call."

Jennifer knew there was nothing she could do to dissuade Eugene once his mind was set. Now she had to think up an excuse to leave. But she couldn't leave Uncle Eugene alone with Tenet. The reporter might worm all sorts of information out of the writer— and then twist it into a story. Eugene never suspected that anyone was up to anything, but Jennifer's experience was very different. It was her job to make sure no one— especially no newspaper reporter— took advantage of Eugene Legander. And Eugene had no inkling of how ugly the rumors had already become all over town.

With a sigh, she followed him into the house. She had to stay and she might as well accept it. Her only hope was that James Tenet was tied up with a story.

Night had fallen over the city while she and Eugene had talked in the garden. She went around the small house, turning on lights and making sure the brandy decanter was filled. Her job had become part hostess, part publicist, part friend. She was smiling when Eugene replaced the phone and announced that Tenet would be over in less than fifteen minutes.

"He was almost speechless when I told him you were here. Waiting."

"Eugene!" Jennifer whirled around, her blue eyes wide with disbelief. "You didn't tell him I was waiting for him to come here?"

"It flattered his ego tremendously." Eugene poured a small measure of brandy and handed her the glass. "You young people are so terribly complex."

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "The man will think I have some kind of interest in him."

Eugene poured his own glass of brandy, declining to comment. He moved to the sofa, adjusted the stereo to a classical station, and pulled a delicate black-and-white cat onto his lap. "Come along, AnnaLoulou," he said, scratching the cat beneath her chin. "You enjoy a nice scratch and aren't afraid to show it." He looked up innocently at Jennifer. "Cats don't mind letting you know what they want. It's one reason they're hardly ever dissatisfied."

Jennifer bit her lower lip. Eugene was a perceptive man— too damn perceptive for his own good sometimes. She lifted her glass of brandy. "To satisfying our needs, Eugene." She grinned at him over the lip of the glass as she drank. He could play games, and so could she.

It was only moments later that James knocked at the front door. Jennifer poured another brandy while Eugene let him in. He greeted them both with a handshake and a smile, but his gaze lingered on Jennifer, almost a touch against the blue silk blouse she wore tucked into jeans.

"The police chief has issued a formal missing person's report on Mimi Frost," Tenet said as he took a seat on the sofa beside Jennifer. "We're going to run a front-page story on the little girl, with her picture." His brow furrowed. "I certainly hope she's okay."

"Surely she's visiting with another child," Eugene said. "Mimi was always quiet, but there was a hint of the adventurer about her. I wouldn't be surprised if she turns up at the beach."

"I hope you're right," Tenet said. He glanced at Jennifer. "Chief Bixley said you were down at the station house."

Jennifer nodded. "I saw Mr. Frost. Obviously he doesn't have his daughter."