Moving Target (14 page)

“Where are you taking him?” she asked, nodding toward Kirby.

“The county jail in Moorestown,” he replied.

“Can I meet you there?” Nancy asked. “We
need to get my friend to the clinic right away. We'll take her in. Cancel the ambulance.”

“All right. Follow us. We'll escort you.”

Ned and CJ had covered George with the blanket and were carrying her to the truck on the makeshift stretcher.

“Wait a minute,” Nancy said to the officers. “How did you find us? This road is totally deserted.”

“We would have been out on the county road if it hadn't been for your friend back at the lodge,” one of them replied.

Nancy's brow furrowed. “Mr. Kipling?”

“No, no. The young woman—tall, blond. She apparently saw Kirby taking you and your friend to the van, and she followed on her bike. She watched him turn onto this side road. So when we got to the lake, she told us which way to go.” He paused. “If it hadn't been for her, we would have gone in the wrong direction.” He touched the brim of his cap in a brief salute. “Well, we'll see you in Moorestown.”

Jennifer, Nancy said to herself, after he left. Jennifer had told the Moorestown police how to find them. Why? Before the night was over, the police were going to learn that she was working with Kirby and Palumbo. Nancy shook her head. She would have to sort things out later.

She hurried to the truck. “CJ,” she said, “I'm sorry I ignored you. I was so worried about George. How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine,” he said, patting her shoulder.

“I'll get into the back with George,” Nancy said. Ned and CJ got into the front, and Ned started the motor and pulled out behind the police car.

CJ looked back over his shoulder at Nancy. “How's she doing?”

“The same,” Nancy replied.

“Was Kirby responsible for my trip to the hospital, too?”

“Partly,” Nancy said. “The idea was his. Kendra actually put the drugs in the bottle. The water was intended for George.”

“Will somebody please tell me what's going on?” Ned said. “I feel as if I've come into a bad movie about an hour late.”

Nancy laughed. “I'll tell you what's been happening here, if you'll tell me where you found this truck.”

“That's easy,” Ned replied. “CJ and I biked over from Moorestown after they released him from the hospital, and we got to the lodge about the same time as the police. When we figured out that they were looking for Kirby and Kirby was gone and that you and George were gone too, we decided we'd better follow them. Mr. Kipling couldn't stand to see two grown men wailing about their lost loves, so he loaned us his truck.”

“Ned, you are certifiably crazy!” Nancy said.

• • •

The nurse in the emergency room at the hospital registered surprise when she saw CJ. “I didn't expect to see you again so soon,” she said.

“We need a gurney,” CJ told her. “We have someone injured outside in a truck.”

“Right away!” she said, and called for an orderly.

The emergency room doctor was with George for what seemed like hours. At last the nurse came into the waiting room. “Slight concussion,” she said. “We'd like to keep her overnight for observation. She's right down the hall, third door to your left. The doctor's with her.”

Nancy moved quickly down the hall and quietly opened the door to George's room. A young woman in a white jacket was standing by the bed.

“How is she, doctor?” Nancy whispered.

“I'm fine, Nan,” George murmured, as she squinted at Nancy through half-opened eyes.

The doctor smiled. “Fine might be an overstatement,” she said as Nancy introduced herself. “But she should be feeling better by morning.” She motioned Nancy toward the door. “Right now she needs to rest. I think the worst thing she'll experience is a very bad headache.”

Ned and CJ were waiting for her at the desk.

“Let's go over to the police station and get that over with,” Nancy said wearily.

The officers who had picked up Kirby were waiting for them in a small conference room. Sergeant Whitcomb, the older man, pulled out a
chair for Nancy and motioned for her to sit down across from him. “We've been in touch with the Emersonville police,” he said. “And we've picked up Jennifer Bover.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She sure doesn't look like someone who'd be mixed up with that pair,” he said.

“What's going to happen to her?” Nancy asked.

Sergeant Whitcomb shook his head. “I don't know. Lieutenant Easterling's with her right now. I guess he hopped in his car not long after you talked to his sergeant,” he said. “I don't have any problem booking Kirby. Not counting tonight's charges of kidnapping and assault with a deadly weapon, we've got enough on him now to lock him up for years. But I don't know about the girl. She probably saved your life. Easterling may cut a deal with her, if she agrees to testify against Kirby and the man they're holding in Emersonville.”

There was a confusion of voices outside the room, and Sergeant Whitcomb got up and went to the door. “Down here!” he said, waving at someone. He turned to Nancy. “Do you mind if Easterling sits in while we talk?” he asked her. “You boys go and get yourselves some coffee,” he said to Ned and CJ, without waiting for Nancy to answer. “There's a fresh pot in the front office.”

“I don't mind,” Nancy said. “It will save me from having to tell the whole story again.”

“Just what I thought,” said Sergeant Whitcomb.

When Nancy finished making her statement, Lieutenant Easterling leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. “Sounds to me like you don't think Jennifer Bover's a criminal,” he said, shrewdly eyeing Nancy.

“That's right. I don't,” said Nancy. “I think she made a bad choice and got caught up in something that kept getting worse. I think she must be feeling very alone and scared.”

Easterling nodded. “Right on both counts.”

“May I talk to her?”

“Follow me.” He stood up and led Nancy down the hall to a small room.

Jennifer was standing at the window, looking out on the street, when the door opened. She turned around at the sound, and Nancy could tell she'd been crying. Lieutenant Easterling sat down at a round table in the corner and shuffled some papers.

“Jennifer,” Nancy said, walking toward her.

Jennifer looked at her hesitantly.

“Can we talk?” Nancy asked.

Jennifer nodded, and Nancy motioned her to one of the straight-backed chairs at the table.

But apparently the sight of Nancy was too much for Jennifer. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and sobs came from her throat in short bursts. “Why are you here?”

“Two reasons,” Nancy replied. “First, I want
to thank you for following the van and telling the police which road we took.”

Jennifer sniffed and nodded.

“You probably saved our lives,” Nancy said. “And second, I want to help you.”

“Why?” Jennifer asked. She blew her nose. “I'm so ashamed. I gave you nothing but grief! And if George hadn't been mistaken for me—” She stopped, and an anxious look crossed her face. “George!” she said. “Where is she?”

“She's in the hospital. Kirby cracked her on the head with his gun. Concussion, but she'll be okay. They'll release her tomorrow.”

Just then Lieutenant Easterling cleared his throat. “This is unofficial,” he said. “I'll take an official statement when we get back to Emersonville, but I'd like you to tell Nancy and me how you got mixed up in all this.”

Jennifer nodded. “It seemed so innocent,” she said. “Palumbo came into work one night with a package, all wrapped up, and said he had to get it to his friend, who was leaving for New York that night. Since I got off work at ten and he didn't get off until two, he asked me to deliver it. He said that there were documents in the package that his friend needed for a meeting in New York.”

“Did he offer you money?”

“Not exactly. He said his friend would make it worth my while, that there was a lot of money at stake in the meeting and the documents were crucial to its success.”

“So you agreed?”

“Sure. I didn't see anything wrong with dropping off a package.” She got up and walked to the window. “The weird part came when he asked me to leave it on the steps of an apartment building on Montague Street. I mean, I figured if the documents were that important, I should hand them to somebody and not just leave them, but Palumbo said no. He said his friend would be watching for me and that it was too late at night to ring the bell. That I might disturb other people in the building or waken somebody's dog or something.”

Nancy propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “Didn't you think that was odd?”

“Of course I did. I should have figured out right then that his friend didn't live in the building, but it was a one-time favor for a co-worker. I wasn't going to make a federal case out of it. I didn't know it would happen again.”

“Did you deliver to the same place every time?” Lieutenant Easterling asked her.

Jennifer shook her head. “No, I made three deliveries to three different places. The second time he asked me to deliver a package, I was told to leave it on top of a garbage can in an alley. So I was definitely suspicious. I mean, this is a weird way to get something to a friend, right?”

“So why didn't you refuse?” Nancy asked.

Jennifer wiped her eyes with a tissue and took
a deep breath before answering. “Because he gave me two hundred dollars for delivering the first package,” she said. She blew her nose. “I couldn't afford to turn it down. At least, that's what I thought then.”

“Did you open the second package?” the lieutenant asked.

“No. But when he asked me the third time, I decided I had a right to know what I was delivering. So I opened that one.”

“And found the emeralds,” Nancy said.

Jennifer nodded. “They were the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. I tried them on. I loved them! I packaged the rest of the stuff back up and delivered it.” Her voice grew soft. “But I kept the emeralds.”

“Did you know they were stolen?”

“I suspected it, but I didn't know for sure until it was in the paper Thursday morning. The article said that there had been a burglary that hadn't been discovered until Wednesday, and the article mentioned the emeralds. I didn't know what to do then. All of a sudden I was part of a burglary ring. And to make matters worse, I was pretty certain that I'd been seen when I made that third drop.”

Lieutenant Easterling shifted in the chair. “Where did you leave that package, Jennifer?” he asked.

“On a bench in the city park,” she replied. “I thought I heard someone in the bushes, and I had
a premonition—a spooky feeling—that I was being watched. I dropped the package and ran.”

“Could you identify Kirby as the person who was watching you?” Nancy asked.

“No,” Jennifer replied. “I never saw more than his shape in the shadows. But I knew he'd seen me. Suddenly I realized that he'd know there should have been emeralds in the package, once he opened it. I panicked. So I signed up for the bike trip—anything to get out of town—and I called in sick.”

“And made an appointment to have your hair colored,” Nancy added.

“Yes.” Jennifer's voice was very small. “When things started going wrong on the trip, I suspected I'd been followed. But George looked more like me than I did, at that point.”

“Why were you looking for a post office?” Nancy asked.

“I thought I'd mail the emeralds anonymously to the Emersonville police.”

“And the bus?”

“I wanted to get away. Escape! I felt trapped.”

“But you didn't ransack my room at Bannon or tamper with George's bike?” Nancy asked.

“No, no. That all must have been Michael—who thought George was me.” She turned to Lieutenant Easterling. “What's going to happen now?”

His heavy gray brows furrowed over his blue
eyes. “Well,” he said, “while your part in this can't be overlooked, you did assist in the apprehension of a criminal and probably saved the lives of two people. Also, you don't have a record. The judge may be lenient.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not exactly,” Lieutenant Easterling said. “I'm going to take you back to Emersonville tonight so you can talk to your attorney.”

Jennifer looked up in surprise. “I don't have an attorney,” she said.

Nancy smiled at her. “Yes, you do,” she said. “I'll call my father. I'm sure he'll represent you.”

Jennifer's eyes filled with tears. “How can I ever repay you?” she asked.

“No need,” said Nancy. “See you at Emerson. Ned and CJ are waiting for me in the front office.” She waved a quick goodbye and left.

• • •

The next morning the hospital called to say that George was being released. Nancy borrowed Mr. Kipling's truck for the short drive to Moorestown.

“Are you sure you're ready to get on that bike again?” she asked George as they drove back to pick up their things.

“Of course I'm ready! You don't think I'd let Erik beat me by default, do you?”

Nancy rolled her eyes upward in resignation. “George, you could have been killed last night.
There are half a dozen people who'd be glad to drive over here from Emerson and pick you up. You took such a whack on the head, I was sure you'd have a serious concussion or a fractured skull.”

“Just another example of Kirby's stupidity,” George said, peeling an orange she'd saved from her breakfast tray.

“What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

“If he'd been smart, he would have known how hardheaded I am!”