Fear Familiar Bundle (166 page)

The tip of the pen tapped on the pad. "I wish we'd been able to get that screen back on the window."

"Not to mention, cleaning up the blood on the upstairs bedroom floor," Jennifer added. "There's no doubt that Crush knows someone was in his home." She felt a sudden defeat. "What has he done with Mimi and Tommy?" She had so hoped to find the children, to rescue them and deliver them safely home. "There wasn't a trace that they'd been there."

"Just the phone, and the clues about the books. Not to mention the…peculiarity evidenced in that room. But it does give me hope, Jennifer."

"Hope?" She looked out from her own misery.

"Hope that the children haven't been harmed. That room sounds as if it were created by someone who cares for children. Maybe not in a normal way, but everything there was for the child's pleasure. The toys, the wallpaper, everything. If Crush has Mimi and Tommy, it may be because he wants them to be his. And this attack on Eugene may be because he feels the children will care for him if they no longer care for Eugene."

The words James spoke gave Jennifer a measure of comfort, but they also made her sad. "How awful," she said. "Never in a million years did I ever think I'd feel sorry for Crush Bonbon. And yet…I do." She looked up, her blue eyes unaccountably filmed with tears. "How terrible to want to be loved, to want to love someone that much."

For all of Jennifer's appeal when she was shooting fire with her eyes and mouth, the tears were James's undoing. He put down the pen and stood. With two steps he was beside her, drawing her into his arms. "It's been a long, long week for you." He kissed the top of her head. "There's nothing we can do now, except wait to see if Crush files a report with the police that his home was broken into. That in itself will tell us a lot." His lips brushed her temple, lingering at the edge of her hair.

Tired did not begin to describe Jennifer's emotional state. She was weary— and exhilarated. The touch of James's hand, his lips, sent pulses of need throughout her, and this time there was no hesitation as she lifted her lips to his.

All of her life she'd used her wit and caustic tongue to drive back suitors. But James was amused by her verbal attacks. In fact, he enjoyed and provoked them. Yet he was also moved by her tenderness. Even as she kissed him, she smiled at a sudden thought. He also had a rapier wit and a quick tongue, and yet he could be gentle and tender. Perhaps, at long last, she'd met a worthy adversary.

"What's so amusing?" James asked, his breath warm against her cheek.

"You. Me." She kissed the stubble of his jawline. "Us."

"Is this a lesson in pronouns?" he queried. God, she was beautiful with that glint of devilment in her eyes. It took all of his willpower not to crush her against him.

"Personal pronouns." Jennifer let her teeth nibble his bottom lip. "Very personal."

"Any chance there might be some verbs attached to those pronouns?"

She chuckled softly against his neck, a sensation that made him groan. "If this is your idea of foreplay…"

Before she could finish, she felt his arm sweep beneath her knees as he lifted her up. His dark eyes looked into hers.

"Yes or no, Jennifer?"

She had never been so certain of an answer in her life. "Yes," she answered clearly.

The lovebirds were a little too much for me last night, so I took an exit through the back door and decided I'd check out the action at Crush's pad. Humans are a definite drawback on a stakeout. They're big. They can't hide. They make noise, and they can't run. Or jump. Or climb. Very unwieldy species. I'll have a lot better chance of success on my own, though I do miss the way Miss Spitfire strokes my back. She's a woman with talented fingers.

This is a great town. Traffic is almost nonexistent in these nicer old neighborhoods. I can't say for certain what's dragging me back to Crush's, but I have this compulsion to spy on him. While the dynamic duo were noticing the lack of a child in his house, I also observed that there wasn't any evidence of a pet. Of course, no self-respecting cat would voluntarily live with a guy like him. But what kind of man is this? No children, no wife, no pet. What does he do with his spare time? That's what I want to discover. And, also, to see if he remains at home. If he has those kids, then someone has to be taking them food and water. Then perhaps I can get Jennifer and James to come up for air long enough to follow him. That is if they live through the night. I must say, they seem to have an abundant supply of energy and ardor. Ah, the combination of youth and love. I remember back in my salad days when I was hanging out behind that palace of Southern cuisine, The Okra Pod. There was a young feline who'd been partially adopted by one of the cooks. He'd bring her out a fried liver delicacy, which she gladly shared with me, and then our thoughts turned romantic. Yes, those were the days. When I was unattached and carefree.

Though I may admire the set of AnnaLoulou's delicious little ears and the way her tail makes a question mark whenever Eugene strokes her back, I am true to Clotilde. True to my commitment.

Ah, but a short trip back in time can stir the blood to a pounding thunder. James and Jennifer are making their own moments to hold and savor in the future. They may not realize it yet, but this kitty could get a job on the psychic hotline when it comes to predicting the future of Miss Spitfire and Clark Kent. It's a done deal— someone should rent the chapel— unless something tragic happens.

Enough of this mushy foolishness. I want to see what Crush is doing. He's up in one of the bedrooms. Not the one where we found James, but the other. Lucky for me magnolias have smooth, tough bark. I've learned a valuable lesson while hanging out in the coastal plains— don't climb pines. That sap is something else and hard on a kitty's fur.

What's that noise I hear? Typing? A soft clack-clack sort of noise. Not like Eugene's old typewriter. It couldn't possibly be. It's too…erratic. It sounds like Dr. Doolittle trying to type a report before the Dame takes pity on him and puts it into the computer. I'll just climb another limb or two and I'll be able to stare him eye to beady little eye— a terrifying thought for me.

Yep, it's Crush! At a keyboard! And he's going to town as fast as his little pea-size brain will let him. Man, he's concentrating like his life depends on it. It's nearly one o'clock in the morning. What could he possibly have to type now?

Maybe a ransom note!

I have to get inside to read what he's done, but I have to wait until he gets up. He'll have to go to the bathroom eventually. Or get something to eat.

Look! There he goes. But, damn it, he's blanked the screen
and
unplugged the machine. May a thousand mice invade his basement. I'm not as good as Jennifer with the invectives, but I'm learning. Now I'll never be able to figure out what he was working on. Even if I break in, I don't have the foggiest understanding of what he was doing on that computer. Whatever happened to the good old days of pens and pads?

Now there's nothing left but careful surveillance. Down the tree and a little walkabout along the edge of the yard. The entire house is dark. Crush's car is still in the drive. There's no sign that he's expecting company or that he intends to leave. I'll just curl up in this little nest of pine straw beside the door and sleep. If anyone or anything stirs, I'll wake up.

J
ENNIFER'S BLUE EYES
opened to dangerous slits as she reached out from beneath the teal sheet and snatched up the clamoring telephone. The weak light that drifted through the wooden blinds showed early morning— and a delightful profile of James Tenet lying beside her still sound asleep. She checked her bedside clock— it was not even seven— and mentally formed a bleak prediction for the person on the other end of the line.

With her teeth clamped together, she picked up the receiver before the phone could ring again. Before she could utter a word, Maji Call started talking.

"I don't know what you think you're doing down there in the decadent South, but it isn't taking care of Eugene Legander's reputation. There's a story on the network news this morning about some brouhaha down there in that backwater town. It seems that radio person has called for Eugene's arrest in the disappearance of two children."

Jennifer held the telephone away from her ear, then, remembering that James was still sleeping, pushed it under her pillow. Even through the layers of feathers she could hear Maji Call's hysterical voice.

"Hold on a minute, Maji," she mumbled into the phone. Burying the receiver deeper beneath the pillow, she slipped out of the room and went to pick up the extension in the kitchen.

"I have no control over Crush Bonbon," she tried to explain, but Maji had worked up a head of steam and she was going to let it off.

Holding the receiver on her shoulder, Jennifer listened as she put on a pot of coffee. As soon as Maji was winded, she'd have a chance to talk. There were times when Maji Call could be a real pain, but she eventually wore herself down into a state of rationality.

Jennifer had finished half a cup of coffee before she got her chance. In five succinct minutes, she'd updated her boss on what had occurred.

"Well, I can see that you've been doing your best." It was as close as Maji could come to an apology.

"There are a lot of things I can't go into," Jennifer said. One of them was the break-in. Her boss would die if she knew Jennifer was sneaking around at night performing illegal acts. "Just trust me. I'm doing everything under the sun to find out who's behind all of this."

"What about those kids?" Maji's concern was real. "Do you think they're okay?"

"I don't know." That was the truth. "But I have to believe that they haven't been seriously harmed. Each day that passes, though, makes it worse. You know that. And I feel so sorry for their parents. And for Eugene. He hides it well, but he's terribly distraught."

"He has a book due, Jennifer. Keep that in mind. He has to be able to work. We're going to have to resolve this. How about if Grand Street Press hires a detective? Hey, that may be a great public relations move. We could get a big name, someone who could create a— "

"No." Jennifer's voice was sharper than she'd intended. "This place is enough of a circus without our side adding to it. Putting fuel on the fire would be the worst thing we could do."

Maji sighed. "You're right. I just got carried away."

For the first time that morning, Jennifer smiled. Maji frequently got carried away. And about fifty percent of the time her ideas were brilliant. The other fifty percent…well, not quite brilliant.

"Call me this afternoon. I want updates every four hours."

"Maji— "

"No, darling. I mean it. I have to stay on top of this. We have an editorial board meeting at four today, and Eugene is a top concern. He must be protected, and I have to have the most current information to present. Jennifer, you're out of New York now. Perhaps you've forgotten how
intense
these editorial meetings can be. I mean, you are living in the land of the siesta."

"Can the sarcasm, Maji. I haven't forgotten. It's been something of a pressure cooker down here, too." Jennifer refilled her coffee cup. "I'm doing everything that can be done, and I'll call you this afternoon."

"Good girl. You have my full confidence. Ta-ta." Maji hung up before Jennifer could reply.

"That woman is slicker than a greased pig in the July sun," Jennifer said to herself as she replaced the phone.

"I see you haven't lost your gift for description. But there's a definite drawl developing in your voice."

Jennifer whirled around to find James standing in the kitchen doorway, his dark hair wet from the shower and a towel around his waist. The faint stubble of his beard gave his skin a darker cast along his jawline. He was so handsome, she stopped and stared.

"At a loss for words?" he teased. "Did you forget where you left me?"

"Coffee?" Her ability for witty repartee was severely hampered by the sudden rush of desire she felt for him. Quick images of the night before flashed in her mind and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

"A modest maiden?" He stepped up beside her and slowly took the coffeepot and cup from her hand, returning them to the counter. "It wasn't really a desire for coffee that brought me in here." His fingers traced a feathery touch beneath her chin. "I wanted a look at you. To make sure I wasn't dreaming."

She knew he could hear her heart pounding. She placed her hand on his chest, still damp from the shower, and felt a corresponding beat. Her gaze never left his, and she thought she'd faint if he actually touched her again. She saw the hunger in his eyes, and the delight, and knew she was seeing a reflection of her own emotions.

"James, what time do you have to be at work?" She smiled.

The jarring ring of the telephone made her freeze. "Don't answer it," she said when she saw him look at it. "I've already had a call from my boss in New York."

A frown touched James's brow. "It could be Eugene," he reminded her. "Besides, no journalist worth his salt can ignore a ringing telephone. It's like ink in the blood."

"Damn, damn, double damn. I'm going to find out who this is, sell them to pirates and then make them walk the plank. Into a vat filled with hungry sharks." She turned away from him and went to the phone. "Hello?"

"Miss Barkley, this is Tommy Franklin's mother. Can we talk?" Jennifer sat down at the table in defeat. The moment with James was lost. She could hear the terror and fear in Mrs. Franklin's voice. "Of course, Mrs. Franklin, what can I do for you?"

James went to the counter, poured her another coffee, and a cup for himself, and retreated to the bedroom.

"I wanted to talk with you before I did anything. An officer was at my house this morning. They believe Mr. Legander is responsible for kidnapping Tommy and Mimi. They want me to go down to the police station and sign papers against Mr. Legander. They say if I sign the papers, along with Mrs. Frost, they can take Mr. Legander into custody and question him."