New Year Heroes: The Sheriff's Secretary / Veiled Intentions / Juror No. 7. Delores Fossen
pulled herself off the sofa and walked to the front door, trying to ignore the small niggle of worry that whispered in the back of her brain.
“They’ve been late once before,” she whispered aloud, as if the audible sound of that thought could ease her concern. The last time, they’d found a stray dog caught in some brambles in the wooded area next to the park. It had taken them hours to calm the frightened mutt and get him untangled.
Mariah opened the door, stepped onto the front porch and looked in the direction of the park, hoping to see them hurrying toward the house with a tale of adventure to share. She saw nobody except Roger Olem, three doors down, watering his flowers.
In another half hour or so it would be full dark.
The humid evening air, redolent with the scent of flowers and sunshine, enveloped her as she left the porch and headed down the sidewalk in the direction of the park. As she made her way, she marveled at the happiness she’d found here.
She’d never meant to make Conja Creek, Louisiana, her home. It had simply been a blip on her road map when she’d left Shreveport on her way to anywhere.
It had taken only a single night spent at a local bed-and-breakfast to make her fall in love with the small, quaint bayou town.
She’d just about given up on happiness before landing here. Eight months ago, life had been about survival, but now she was a respected part of the community, and Billy was happier than she’d ever seen him.
She quickened her pace as the park came into view. If they were here, then she needed to have a talk with Jenny about making sure they got home on time when they decided to leave the house for a little fun.
Her heart dropped a bit when she saw that nobody sat on the swings or climbed on the jungle gym. The only person she saw in the park was one of her neighbors, Rosaline Graham who, since her husband’s death, often spent the hours between dinner and bedtime sitting on a park bench.
“Hi, Rosaline,” Mariah called to the old woman. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen my son or Jenny Jamison lately, have you?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, honey. I just got here a few minutes ago, but I sure haven’t seen them.”
The alarm bells that had just been whispering through Mariah’s head suddenly pealed so loudly she could barely hear anything else.
Maybe they’d chosen another way home. Maybe they were there right now wondering where she was. She started back toward home. After several steps she broke into a run, telling herself not to panic. It wasn’t as if it were the middle of the night. It was only about seven-thirty.
But when she got back to the house, there was still no sign of them. The phone had no messages, and the panic that had tried to take hold of her now grasped her with both hands.
She pulled out her address book and grabbed the phone. The reason Billy had been home today and not at his babysitter’s was because he’d awakened with a sore throat. Maybe Jenny had taken him to the doctor’s office.
The fact that Jenny’s car was in the driveway didn’t matter. From Mariah’s house it was a short walk to Main Street, where Dr. Ralph Dell had his offices.
Her fingers shook as she punched in the phone number. Normally Mariah was the last to panic, and even though she thought there was surely a logical explanation for Billy and Jenny’s absence, she couldn’t help the swell of inexplicable fear that filled her chest.
By nine o’clock she had called everyone she knew to call. Friends, neighbors and schoolmates of Billy’s. None of Billy’s friends had seen him that day, nor had anyone seen Jenny.
She’d been reluctant to call Lucas, knowing that if Jenny and Billy came home and nothing was seriously wrong, Lucas would reprimand Jenny for the next week for worrying her.
But now she had no choice. With each minute that passed, the disquiet she’d felt since waking from her unexpected nap raged into full-blown fear.
She punched in the number for the sheriff’s office, unsurprised when Lucas himself answered the call. “Sheriff Jamison.” His deep, self-confident voice instantly commanded respect.
“Sheriff, it’s Mariah Harrington. Have you by any chance seen Jenny or Billy today?”
“No. Why?” His voice held a sudden intensity and she could see him in her mind. The tight jaw, the disapproving line trekking across his forehead, the thin press of his lips.
“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, but I’ve been home since five-thirty and they aren’t here.” Although she tried to maintain her composure, her voice cracked and tears suddenly stung her eyes.
“I’ll be right there.” He didn’t wait for her to reply.
Mariah hung up the receiver then walked back to the front door and stared outside, watching the night shadows as they moved in to steal the last of the day.
Fear clawed up the back of her throat as she realized that within fifteen minutes or so it would be night. Where was Jenny? And, dear God, where was her son?
LUCAS JAMISON climbed into his car and headed for the Harrington home, already forming the words to the lecture he’d deliver to his sister when he saw her.
God bless that girl, he thought. Sometimes she just didn’t use the brains that she’d been born with. She’d probably taken Billy for ice cream, or decided to get him a burger at the café and had neglected to leave a note.
He just hoped this little escapade didn’t screw up the living arrangement with Mariah. When Jenny’s last boyfriend had broken up with her, she’d not only lost the man she’d believed was the love of her life but also her living space. She’d refused to move back to the family home with Lucas and had bunked on a girlfriend’s sofa for a couple of weeks.
It had been Lucas who approached Mariah about Jenny renting a room from her. He knew Mariah was a widow, alone with her son, and lived in a big enough house that a renter might not be a problem.
But that wasn’t the real reason he’d approached the mayor’s secretary.
Despite being only twenty-nine years old, Mariah carried herself like a much older, much more mature woman. No-nonsense and with cold blue eyes that could freeze a man in his path, she could potentially have the steadying effect on Jenny that Lucas had never managed. Or so he hoped.
“Jenny, what have you done this time?” he muttered as he pulled up to the curb in front of the Harrington house. He hadn’t even turned off the engine before Mariah flew out of the house.
Her chestnut hair, normally pulled back in a tight ponytail, sprung in wild curls around her petite features, making her look far younger than she appeared when she was at her desk in the mayor’s office.
He didn’t have to ask if Jenny and Billy had shown up. The answer to the unspoken question shone from Mariah’s worried blue eyes.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, her usually cool, composed voice holding a telltale tremble.
“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” he said as he fell into step with her and headed back toward the house. “If I know my sister, this is all just some crazy misunderstanding, and she and Billy are probably down at the café eating pie or star-watching down at the park.”
“I’ve been to the park. They weren’t there.” She opened the front door and ushered him into the small entryway. When she turned to face him, her eyes flashed with a touch of impatience. “And I haven’t known your sister as long as you have, but I know her well enough to know that she wouldn’t just take off with Billy and not let me know where they are. Something’s wrong. Something is terribly wrong.”
She might think she knew Jenny, but Jenny had obviously been on her best behavior since moving in here. “You mind if I look around?” Lucas asked. In the two months that Jenny had lived here he’d only been as far as the front porch. Jenny