Jealousy by Debbie Kluge Author's Note: Well, guys, I may live to regret this, but I'm going to throw my hat into the fanfic ranks. I call this "Jealousy" and hopefully you will see why!
The halls of Rockport High School were filled with the sounds of
slamming doors, mingled conversations, and laughter. Teenagers milled
around in groups or moved toward classrooms along the long hallway.
Here and there a few adults could be seen watching this milling group
with expressions that ranged from apprehension to amusement. Two young
people moved down the hallway from the far end. The boy, blonde and
blue-eyed, looked downcast.
" . . . and it's only Tuesday! Dad won't even let us start packing
before this weekend." Mischief sparkled in her green eyes as the
redheaded young woman with him laughed.
"Why do want to start packing this weekend? We don't leave for London
for another month. And then we have about two weeks of prep work before
we can even think about leaving for Cairo. If you start packing now it
will only make waiting even harder. You better start concentrating on
getting all your special assignments done, Jonny Quest, or you may end
up staying behind to finish the term!" Jonny looked stunned.
"Dad wouldn't do that, Jessie . . . would he?"
"Well, if it were me, I sure wouldn't push him. You don't really think
he's going to let you fall behind a term simply so . . ."
"Jessie . . . Jonny! Hey, guys, over here . . ." Jessie and Jonny
looked up to see Michael Short, a fellow classmate, standing with a
group of people over by a bank of lockers. He was waving at them
frantically. "Hey . . . come over here . . . I've got someone I want
you to met." As Jessie and Jonny approached the group they saw Michael
standing with three other people. Two of them were about medium height
and had longish brown hair and brown eyes. They appeared to be somewhat
ordinary, except that they looked exactly alike. Jessie smiled at the
pair and said, "Hi, Bobby . . . Matt . . . how's it goin?" They made a
sharp contrast to the young man who had hailed them. Michael Short was
almost six feet tall, gangly and had a staggering shock of green hair.
Jonny looked up at Michael and grinned.
"Green this week, huh? What happened to the orange?" Michael looked
hurt and couldn't seem to come up with an answer. Jessie broke in
quickly.
"Don't mind him, Mike. I think it looks . . . huh . . . striking. When
are the basketball tryouts?" Mike blushed and hung his head. Bobby
volunteered,
"They start tomorrow. Mike figures that if he stands out they'll notice
him and pay more attention." Jonny shrugged.
"I don't know why you bother. You're the best basketball player we
have. You're a cinch to make the team." Mike turned a little redder,
and then hurriedly changed the subject.
"I want you to meet someone. This is Francesca Hamilton. She just
transferred here from California. She's only been here about two
weeks."
Jessie and Jonny both turned to look at the girl who had been standing,
almost hidden, behind their three friends. Jessie's first thought was
that she seem awfully young to be in high school. But on second
inspection she realized that the new girl wasn't young; she was just
tiny . . . and BEAUTIFUL. She couldn't have stood more than 4"11". Her
skin was pale and clear without a trace of a flaw and her blue-black
hair fell to her waist in a softly waving cascade that seemed to frame
her entire form. She was wearing a blue dress that clung to her body in
a way that seemed to accentuate every curve. Jessie looked into her
face and was met with a guileless look. *I've never known anyone with
violet eyes before,* she thought. She glanced down at herself and
suddenly felt grubby in her long pink T-shirt, purple spandex pants and
tennis shoes. She glanced over at Jonny and was instantly irritated.
His face wore a stunned look. He licked his lips and said,
"Uh, hi. I'm . . . uh . . . nice to . . . uh . . . oh, wow!" Bobby
snickered slightly and his brother looked smug. Mike stifled a laugh.
Jessie abruptly held out her hand.
"Hi. I'm Jessie Bannon. And this semi-moron is my friend, Jonny
Quest. He can usually talk. I guess his brain just died or
something." The girl smiled as she took Jessie's hand. Somehow, Jessie
suddenly felt like the sun had come out from behind a cloud.
"Hi. It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about both of you. I'm
glad we've finally met." Her voice was soft and melodic. "Everyone
says you've done a lot of traveling. So have I. I'm hoping we can
compare notes and see if we've been to any of the same places." Jonny
suddenly seemed to find his voice.
"Hey, that would be great! It's lunch time. The cafeteria food here is
lousy. Want to go out for a burger? There a place not far from here
and we can still make it back for afternoon classes . . ." His
enthusiastic smile suddenly faded. " . . . unless you have a lunch
class . . ." Francesca smiled sweetly.
"That would be wonderful. Bobby and Matt both have classes and Mike has
basketball practice. And I'm afraid I don't know much of anyone else."
*That's weird,* thought Jessie. *How could she not know anyone if she's
been here for two weeks?* " Are you coming, too, Jessie?" Jonny broke
in quickly.
"No. Jess has some . . . um . . . library research to do over lunch.
DON'T you, Jess." The look he gave her said very clearly that if she
didn't, she had better find some, and quick. Jessie looked at him with
disgust and said,
"Oh yeah, LOTS of research. It may take me DAYS to finish it. You go
right ahead and I'll just get myself off to the library." Jessie
steamed as she watched Jonny and Francesca move off toward the main
doors. As they neared the entrance she watched with disbelief as Jonny
reached out and took Francesca's books and tucked them under his arm.
They were both laughing as they walked out the door.
*********
Jessie had been doing a slow burn all day. She would have liked to have
gone to lunch with Jonny and Francesca and gotten to know the new girl.
And she had NOT had any library research to do, so she had been left at
loose ends for lunch. Most of her friends either had already left for
lunch or had classes. She discovered, suddenly, that she wasn't hungry
so she ended up wandering through the school library looking for
something to read. Unfortunately, she had already read everything in
the school library. By the time it was time for her next class she had
moved from disgusted to angry. And the afternoon did not improve.
After her last class she hung around her locker waiting for Jonny.
After about 15 minutes, she went looking for him but was not able to
find him anywhere. As she was walking back to her locker Matt
approached her. He was in a hurry but stopped to say,
"Hey, Jess, I ran into Jonny at the end of fourth period and he asked me
to tell you that he was going to walk Francesca home after school and
then bum a ride home with Mike after basketball practice. He said you
should go on home and he would see you later." Jessie sputtered,
"But . . . but, we were supposed to go to the mall this afternoon. Dad
was to pick us up there at about 5:00!" Matt shrugged.
"Sorry. All I know is what he told me. Well, I gotta go. See you
later . . ." Jessie ran frantically for the parking lot hoping to
catch a ride home, but the last car pulled out just as she left the
building. She thought about calling her father but decided against it.
She sighed and set herself to walk the three miles to the mall. She had
no more than arrived when her father, Race Bannon, arrived to pick her
up. He grinned at her.
"Hey, Poncheta. Ready to go? Where's Jonny?"
"Oh, something came up at school, and he'll be home later. I'm all
set." He looked at her quizzically as she rose from the bench.
"I thought you were coming here this afternoon to buy stuff to take with
you next month." She shook her head.
"Didn't find anything I liked. Come on. Let's go home."
Jessie was silent all the way home. Race tried to engage her in
conversation once or twice but finally gave up after all he received was
grunts or one word answers. He looked at his daughter, thought of
trying to ask her what was wrong, and then decided she would talk when
she was ready. When she got home she went straight to her room and shut
the door.
The more she thought about the whole thing the more angry she got.
Jonny had no business treating her that way. What did he think she was,
chopped liver? So what if Francesca was new. That didn't give him the
right to . . .
"Jessie, time for dinner!" She walked into the dining room, still
seething. Jonny was no where to be seen. Benton Quest walked in from
the kitchen carrying a bowl and set it on the table.
"Where's Jonny?" Jessie spread her hands as she moved to sit down.
"Got me. I haven't seen him since before lunch." She sat down and
stared at her plate. Suddenly the idea of food made her feel slightly
ill. From the front of the house a door slammed and Jonny came hurrying
in. He was flushed and a little breathless.
"Sorry I'm late. I got a ride home with Mike and basketball practice
ran late."
"You should have called," his father told him severely. "We were
starting to worry." Jonny looked at Jessie blankly.
"Didn't you get my message?"
"No." *What am I doing?* thought Jessie. Race looked at his daughter
oddly.
"Well, I met this new girl at school today," Jonny began
enthusiastically. "She's from California. Her father was just
transferred here, and she's traveled a lot, and we were talking about
all the places we've been, and . . ." Jessie tuned the conversation out
as she pushed her food around on her plate aimlessly. Why had she lied
about not getting Jonny's message? He was sure to find out that Mike
had told her.
" . . . and she's really nice. I really, really like her." Jessie
shoved her chair back and rose abruptly.
"May I be excused?" Jonny gaped up at her. She looked at him and said
sarcastically, "I have a lot of library research to do." Jessie turned
on her heel and stalked out. Jonny sat there for a minute, and then
jumped up and followed her out.
"Jess . . ."
Benton Quest and Race Bannon looked at each other. Finally, Benton
commented,
"Do you get the feeling we've missed something here?"
**********
In the mouth of a dark alley near the outskirts of Rockport a silent
figure watched and waited in the shadows. It was nearing midnight. The
object of the man's scrutiny had entered the house across the street at
6:00 that evening and hadn't set foot outside since. A shadow moved
further up the street and was gone. The man in the alley tensed and
stared up the street intently. Nothing else moved. Slowly the figure
relaxed again. A few minutes passed and suddenly an arm circled his
throat and his arm was twisted up sharply. He felt a sharp object
pressing against the center of his back. A voice hissed in his ear.
"No sudden moves unless you want to be very dead. Who sent you?"
"Baxter."
"Why?" The man shrugged slightly.
"Why does Baxter ever do anything? He doesn't trust you." The man's
arm loosened fractionally.
"I told him I wouldn't tolerate a watcher on this job. It's too
dangerous. I'll get his merchandise but I'm the one taking the risks so
he plays this my way or the deal's off. You go back and tell him that
contact's been made and things are proceeding according to plan. I will
contact him . . . my way . . . in a week. You got that?" The arm
tightened again. The figure in the alley nodded jerkily. And suddenly,
as mysteriously as he appeared, the stranger was gone.
*This has to have been the worst 10 days of my life,* thought Jessie as
she picked herself up from the ground. She was wet, muddy and cold.
Flag football was not supposed to be a violent sport, but somehow this
particular game did not seem to be working out that way. She lined up
and, as the whistle blew, dodged her defender and ran up field. Just as
she turned to check for the ball, it struck her in the back of the head.
She fell heavily to the ground in the mud and lay there swearing to
herself. Abruptly it began to rain. *Oh, why not,* she thought
wearily. *It just goes with the rest of the week.* Someone offered her
a hand up and, as she rose, the PE teacher gave up and called it a day.
Jessie made her way dispiritedly across the field and headed for the
door to go in and clean up. It was the last period of the day and she
was ready to go home. She and Jonny were supposed to work on packing
this evening. Their dads had left yesterday to fly some equipment to
New York so it could be loaded on a transport for shipment. They would
be back tomorrow to load up the stuff she and Jonny were packing
tonight. It was going to be tight. They should have worked on it
yesterday but Jonny had wanted to help Francesca study . . .
*I hardly ever see him any more,* she thought. *And when I do, all he
ever does is talk about HER!* Jessie wasn't sure, but she thought it
was possible she hated that girl more than she had ever hated anyone in
her life . . . including Jeremiah Surd. She wondered what Jonny would
think about THAT. Considering what few conversations they had managed
to have during the last week, she had a fairly good idea what he would
say. Most times recently "conversation" could be better described as
"argument." And that might even be kind.
She wondered where he was. As if on cue, the door opened and there he
stood. She blinked. He had left early this morning and she hadn't seen
him. He stood before her now in a pair of navy blue corduroy pants, a
white button down shirt, a blue pullover sweater, and a tie. His hair
was neatly combed. She stared at him in disbelief. Beside him stood
Francesca Hamilton. Jessie eyed her with loathing. As usual she looked
exquisite . . . just like a china doll. She made Jessie feel clumsy and
plain . . . ugly maybe . . . just like she always did. Jonny stared.
"Geez, Jess, what happened to you? You look like a reject from a mud
wrestling tournament."
*Oh, fine . . .,* she thought.
"Nothing that won't clean up. I'll be ready to go in about 10 minutes.
Where do you want me to meet you?" He looked uncomfortable.
"Actually, I wanted to tell you that you should go on home and I'll be
there later. Francesca's dad finally has a free night and she wants me
to meet him. We're going to go to dinner. I should be home by about
8:00. I checked with Mike and he says he'll give you a lift, no
problem, so I'll see you then, OK?" She glared at him, hands on her
hips. He shifted uneasily. Finally, in a soft, dangerous voice, she
said,
"What about the packing?" He said hurriedly,
"I'll be home to help soon. You get started and we'll finish it up once
I get there. Look, I gotta go. I'll see you later." Francesca smiled
sweetly and took Jonny by the arm, cuddling up to him as they walked
away. Jessie was sure Francesca was laughing at her. She stood there
watching them until they were out of sight. Then she turned and,
pulling open the door forcefully, entered the building. SLAM. Jessie
turned and looked back to see chips of brick and mortar settling to the
ground. The door still shook.
The locker room was rapidly emptying out as she came in to get cleaned
up. One of the few girls remaining called to her from across the room,
"Hey, Bannon, I hear you've lost Jonny Quest to Francesca Hamilton."
Jessie turned her back and ignored her. "I hear that he took her out to
lunch about two weeks ago and he's been trailing around after her like a
little lost puppy ever since." Jessie turned and looked at her.
"I wouldn't know about that. I'm not his keeper." The other girl
snickered.
"I always did say he was too fine for the likes of you. They make a
really great looking couple." Jessie glared at the other girl in anger.
"What would you know about it?!" The girl laughed derisively and waved
a hand at Jessie as she walked out the door.
"At least Francesca knows how to be a girl!" Jessie turned white and
began to shake in fury. * I hate her, I hate her, I HATE HER!*
Becca, one of Jessie's teammates from the flag football game, looked up
from her seat on a wooden bench nearby and commented softly,
"Girl friend, you're bein' a fool. That black-haired witch is bad
news. There's somethin' not right about her. I swear she was layin' in
wait for him from the day she set foot in the door. I heard she was
askin' about him from the first afternoon. And you're not helpin'
yourself any by just lettin' her have her way without a fight. You
better do somethin' or you're goin' to lose him for good!" Jessie
looked at her helplessly, halfway in tears.
"But what do I do? How can I compete with her? He's never even said
anything that would . . . he doesn't . . ." she paused desperately, then
finished in a rush, "he's never been mine to lose!" She looked at
Jessie for a long time, then shook her head sadly.
"You ARE a fool. Just mind what I said. There's somethin' not right
about her."
As Jessie stood in the shower and let the hot water run over her head
she thought about the things Becca had said. She wished she could talk
with somebody about this . . . her mother, maybe. Definitely NOT her
dad, though. She shuddered at the very thought of THAT conversation.
Shying away from what she was feeling, she began thinking about
Francesca.
*There IS something not quite right about her.* Jonny had talked
non-stop about her from the day they met, but in thinking about it, it
didn't seem to amount to much. Basically, she knew that she came from
California with her father about a month ago; she liked to take long
walks, preferably clinging to Jonny while she did it; and, supposedly,
she had traveled extensively with her father. Jessie suddenly realized
that they didn't know any thing more about her now than what Mike had
told them the day he introduced them. And Jonny had spent practically
every spare moment with her he could find. Jessie did not doubt that he
had repeated everything he knew since he hadn't stopped talking about
her since they met. In that instant, Jessie made up her mind that she
was going to find out everything there was to know about this girl if it
was the last thing she did.
**********
Jessie stood silently in the dark corridor outside the school office and
listened. The only sound she could hear was the ping of metal as it
cooled. The blowers for the heating system had just kicked off. Softly
she reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic card. It was the
Quest Enterprises credit card. Her dad would kill her if he knew what
she was doing. But she HAD to get Francesca's social security number.
She had tried doing generic searches through the public records, but had
not had enough information to get any where. She finally decided she
was going to have to have some information to start from. And the only
place she could think of to get that information was from the school
admission files. And if she got caught . . .
She shoved that thought away and concentrated on getting the office door
open. With a soft click it popped open. She had to be quick! She knew
the night janitor was due in soon. She closed the door softly and moved
quickly to the bank of file cabinets at the back of the room. Locked!
And she didn't think she had anything that she could use to get them
open. Maybe she could find something in a desk drawer. There were
three desks in the office. She had no luck in the first two, but in the
third she found a ring of miscellaneous keys. The second key she tried
opened the file cabinets.
She checked quickly through the files until she came to the one marked
HAMILTON, FRANCESCA. She opened it up and scanned the contents
swiftly. Not much there. Name, address, father's name, social security
number for both of them. Interesting, the only prior address listed was
was a PO box. No former employers. Mr. Hamilton was listed as
self-employed. The office copy machine was kept in the back of the room
in a small alcove. She decided to risk it and took the file back
there. She gave a small prayer of thanks because someone had forgotten
to turn it off so it was ready to go. Quickly, she copied what little
information was in the file and then returned the file to be cabinet.
Carefully, she locked the cabinet again and returned the keys to the
desk where she found them.
Just as she was getting ready to leave she heard the sound of the fire
door closing and footsteps coming up the hall. She looked around
frantically as she heard someone outside the door jingling a set of
keys. Quickly she dived under the desk farthest from the door and
crouched there, waiting. She heard the door open and suddenly the room
was filled with light. She huddled where she was, frozen. She heard
the rustle of paper and realized that the janitor was emptying the waste
baskets. She looked helplessly at the waste basket sitting three inches
from her toes. The silence of the building was broken abruptly by the
shrill sound of a phone. The janitor answered it on the second ring.
"Hello? Oh, hello Mr. Pike. No . . . no, I haven't been in the
basement tonight. I just got started. Water valve? Sure, I can run
down there right now and shut it off. You say they'll be here in about
half an hour to work on it? Not a problem. I'll listen for them and be
sure to let them in. Will do. Ok. Bye." Footsteps moved out of the
room and down the hallway. Suddenly Jessie heard the fire door open
and, a moment later, close. She was up and out the door in an instant.
She ducked down the hallway and slipped quickly out the gym room door.
Her knees shook as she leaned against the wall in shadow trying to catch
her breath. *That was TOO close.* It took her about 15 minutes to get
back to the place she had hidden the motorcycle she had ridden across
country to get here. As close as she could figure it, she had about
half an hour before Jonny would be home . *If he's on time,* she
thought sourly. She revved the engine and headed for home.
**********
Jonny Quest sat quietly in a very fancy dining room on the outskirts of
Augusta. When Francesca had suggested dinner with her father he thought
she had meant in one of the local seafood restaurants that lined the
coast. He had no idea they were going to head into Augusta! It was
already after 9:00. Oh boy, was Jessie going to be pissed! He smiled
softly to himself. He had never found anything that had gotten under
Jessie's skin like Francesca had done. He could practically see her
boil every time she laid eyes on the dark-haired girl. He thought
quietly about the last two weeks. It had been really flattering to have
a girl like Francesca interested in him. Certainly he had never known
anyone as beautiful. *No*, he thought, *that's not true. I know ONE
other girl who is more beautiful.* Jonny smiled to himself again. But
he was going to have to do something about the situation very soon. All
his friends at school thought he was about the luckiest guy alive. But
Jonny was uneasy. While it felt really great to have someone like
Francesca pay attention to him, it didn't seem to be enough. She just
didn't seem to have much to say for herself. She could listen to him
for hours, but try and get her into an intelligent conversation and
things just died. And she didn't seem to like to DO anything. She
didn't like to swim, or skate, or ride motorcycles or ATVs, or any of
the stuff and Jonny and Jessie always did. *Face it, Jonny Quest . . .
you're bored.* He suddenly realized that he desperately missed the time
he used to spend with Jessie. *At least she has a brain,* he thought
wryly.
"So, young man, you say your father is out of town for a few days?"
Jonny abruptly focused on his dinner companions. David Hamilton sat
directly across the table from him. He looked remarkably like his
daughter with the raven-black hair and pale skin. His eyes, however,
were a hard, pale, watery blue. Somehow, those eyes made him nervous.
He felt like they were sizing him up for something.
"Uh, yes sir. He'll be back tomorrow. He only had to go to New York to
move some stuff up to a cargo company for shipping. He called last
night to say they should be home early tomorrow afternoon."
"They . . .?"
"Oh, Race went with him. Race is Jessie's dad." This comment was
directed to Francesca. Her expression seemed to darkened just slightly
for a brief instant, but before Jonny could be sure, she was all smiles
again. She leaned against him slightly and cooed,
"Jonny's dad is soooo cool, Daddy. He talks about him all the time.
They're really close." In a hearty voice, Mr. Hamilton commented,
"That's just fine. I really would like to meet him. I have a number of
investments that I think he might be interested in." Jonny perked up
slightly,
"Investments, sir? Are you a broker or something? I don't think
Francesca's ever said." Mr. Hamilton waved his hand vaguely.
"Investments, stocks, bonds, business opportunities, things like that.
You might say I help people clarify their future." *That's an odd way
to put it,* Jonny thought.
"But I suppose we should think about getting back. I have some work to
do tonight and Francesca tells me that you also have things to do." He
waved at a waitress and asked for the dinner bill. Francesca turned and
smiled softly at Jonny.
"I know Jessie will be missing you. We really are terrible, keeping you
out this late. And after you told her you would be home by 8:00, too."
Jonny got the uncomfortable feeling that Francesca was maliciously
amused by the thought that Jessie might be angry. Suddenly, Jonny knew
he was going to end this association just as soon as he possibly could.
**********
Jonny eyed the big house in the distance with relief as he keyed the
entry code into the gates. Mr. Hamilton's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"You appear to live in quite a fortress, young man. Your father must
have some very valuable things to have such tight security." Jonny
stiffened slightly at the man's tone of voice.
"My father does important work. It wouldn't be smart to leave some of
the things he works on unsecured."
"Of course. Perfectly understandable. Well, it certainly has been a
pleasure meeting you, son. As always, my little girl has excellent
taste in friends. I hope to see you again very soon." Jonny stepped
out of the car and turned back a little stiffly.
"Thank you for an interesting evening. I'm sure we'll see each other
again. Good night, Francesca." Jonny turned and walked toward the
front door. As he stepped onto the front patio the lights came on,
illuminating the entire front of the house. Jonny walked up, inserted
his key and entered, closing the door behind him. David Hamilton sat
briefly with a sardonic smile playing around his lips. Then he put his
car in gear and moved slowly down the drive toward the main gates.
"Well, Francesca, my dear, that proved to be a very interesting
evening. I believe that providence has smiled upon us. Shall we take
advantage of our opportunities?" Francesca Hamilton smiled thinly.
Gone was the soft beautiful face and sweet smile.
"Oh, I believe so. I really do." And she began to laugh.
WHAM! Jonny winced as the door closed softly. There was a brief
silence, followed abruptly by a resounding crash. Angry footsteps
crossed the floor followed by the loud SLAM of a door. Then there was
silence. Jonny looked at his watch. It was 10:25. Well, she had a
right to be mad. Cautiously, he stuck his head around the door and
peered into the family room. Packing crates and boxes where strewn
everywhere. Miscellaneous equipment, manuals, books and other items lay
scattered over surfaces throughout the room. Jonny viewed the disarray
with dismay. He knew they were supposed to be doing a bunch of packing.
And he also knew Jessie had been bugging him about it even before their
fathers left. But he had no idea there was this much to do. No wonder
she was angry. If he ever got out of the dog house on this one it would
be a miracle.
He moved quickly through the house and entered his room. Five minutes
later he reappeared wearing old jeans and a t-shirt. Jessie was still
no where in sight.
"Jess . . .?" He looked in the kitchen, the dining room and finally in
her bedroom. Nothing. *Where could she be?* He went back into the
kitchen and checked the back door. Unlocked. With a little sigh of
relief he realized she must have gone out to the lighthouse for
something. He surveyed the family room and decided he might as well get
started. Maybe she wouldn't be so angry if she came back to find him
working. A few minutes later he heard the back door open and glanced up
from his packing crate to see Jessie standing in the door.
"So you finally decided to come home." He looked at her earnestly.
"I'm really sorry, Jess! I didn't mean to be gone that long. It . . .
it just kind of . . . worked out that way." He trailed off uncertainly.
Jessie stood in the door for a minute and then moved quietly to a
packing crate on the other side of the room. Jonny watched her in
perplexity. He expected her to be angry . . . she certainly sounded
angry when he came in. He looked at her a little more closely and said
uncertainly,
"Are you OK? I really didn't mean to stick you with all of this." Her
head was bowed, her hair obscuring her face as she knelt and randomly
shoved stuff into a box. She just shook her head. Jonny rose abruptly
and crossed the room to where she was sitting on the floor. "Jessie,
what is it?"
"I'm fine. I'm fine." But she wasn't fine. She had never felt like
this before. Like she was being torn apart from the inside. What was
wrong with her . . .? She shook her head angrily. She had spent an
hour hunting through all of the public databases she could think of and
she had been unable to find out anything about Francesca Hamilton or her
father. Social security numbers, dates of birth, nothing had brought up
anything. It was as though they didn't even exist. Finally, in
frustration, she had returned to the packing. She had been so angry . .
. until she heard the car door. She had risen to go to the door, but
something had stopped her. She suddenly realized she was afraid of what
she might see. With that she had thrown the stuff she had in her hands
to the floor and had fled the main house. She had sat out in the cold
of the night near the lighthouse and cried. She hadn't known what else
to do.
Jonny reached a hand down to turn her to face him. She jerked away but
not before he saw that she was crying. He sank slowly to the floor
beside her.
"Jessie . . ." It was barely a hoarse whisper. She looked at him
quickly through blurred vision. The pain and confusion on his face was
plain. "Jessie, I . . ." ; he swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to . . .
I mean . . . PLEASE don't cry . . . Francesca is just . . ."
And, just as suddenly, the anger was back again. She flung herself to
her feet and stormed across the room.
"Stay away from me! Francesca . . . Francesca . . . Francesca. That's
all you ever talk about any more. Morning, noon and night. Who is this
person?! She a non-person, that's what she is. A complete non-person.
She doesn't exist anywhere. Not here. Not in California. Not
anywhere. And neither does her father! Non-person's, both of them!"
Slowly what she was saying to him began to penetrate.
"Wait. Slow down. What do you mean, non-persons?"
"I mean they don't exist! No birth certificates, no mortgage records,
no credit history, no visas, no work history, nothing! They just . . ."
Slowly she sputtered to a stop. Jonny's expression was vacant with a
slight frown. He finally looked at her and asked softly,
"How do you know?"
"Because I looked, that how I know. I looked everywhere. They just
don't exist!"
"Maybe you just didn't have enough to go on."
"I had social security numbers and dates of birth! That should be
enough." He looked at her sharply.
"Where did you . . ." her expression stopped him ". . . no, no never
mind. It doesn't matter." He sat for a minute longer. She watched him
closely sensing that something was happening.
"What . . ." He suddenly smiled bitterly.
"You know, I think I've been set up." She approached him hesitantly.
She didn't like the look on his face. She thought it was a combination
of disillusionment, recrimination, pain and another emotion she couldn't
quite place. He looked at her. "Both Francesca and her dad spent the
entire evening pumping me about Dad and his work. And just like the
chump I am, I told them everything they wanted to know and even let them
in through the main gates." He rose quickly and walked across the room
to a partially buried computer sitting on the desk. He shoved
everything unceremoniously onto the floor and began typing quickly. The
screen came to life with an image of the road and main gates to the
compound. A dark sedan moved sedately down the drive, but just before
it reached the gate sensors it pulled off and parked silently under a
canopy of trees. If he hadn't seen it pull in he wouldn't even know it
was there.
Jonny stared at the screen for a long minute and then looked at Jessie.
"That's the tape from the surveillance system. They've been free on the
grounds ever since I got home. I didn't bother to reset the security
systems when I came in." Jessie looked at the car parked under the
trees.
"What do they want?" He shrugged.
"I have no idea. Take your pick. But one thing's certain . . ."
Jessie looked at him quickly, concerned by the tone of his voice " . . .
it isn't me."
"Jonny . . ." He turned away angrily and moved toward the phone.
"I'm going to call the cops." But before he could get there, Jessie
exclaimed,
"Look!" She was staring out the window toward the lighthouse. It was
totally black. Then, a flash of light appeared briefly in a lower
window. "They're in the lighthouse."
"They're definitely going after something of Dad's." He picked up the
phone and listened briefly. Then he set it back in the cradle again.
"Dead." They just looked at each other. Suddenly, Jessie grinned at
him.
"Well, we're in it up to our necks again, aren't we?" A slow smile
tugged at one corner of Jonny's mouth.
"As usual. Hey, maybe the cellular will work!" As he moved toward the
bedroom, Jessie headed for the computer terminal.
"I'll try sending an e-mail message to Dr. Quest. If we're lucky he's
on his computer and he can call the cops. He may even know what they're
after!" But before either of them could reach their destination the
quiet was shattered by the sound of a gun shot. Glass in the window
near Jessie exploded and she dropped like a stone.
"Jess!"
"Stay there! I'm OK. Can you see where the shots are coming from?"
Jonny peered cautiously around the corner of a wall as Jessie crawled
out of line of the window. Another shot rang through the room and
shattered a valuable pre-Columbian pot sitting on a shelf on the other
side of the room. His dad would be pissed about that. It had been a
gift from the Colombian ambassador.
"Looks like someone on the catwalk of the lighthouse with a rifle."
Jonny reached down and grabbed Jessie's arm, hauling her up and out of
the line of fire. As she peered around him trying to catch sight of the
gunman, his arm slid around her waist. She looked at him quickly. He
was VERY close. She had never really noticed how blue his eyes were.
"Jessie, I'm sorry for . . ." A little breathlessly, she said,
"Not now! We need to stop these guys first. I don't want to have this
conversation while we try to duck bullets!" Reluctantly, he let her go.
"Now, HOW do we stop them?" Jonny thought for a moment.
"We should be able to put the gunman out of commission if he stays on
the catwalk. The trick is going to be to get whoever is inside. Can
you tell who's on the walkway?" Jessie peered around the corner again
quickly.
"I don't think it's her. I can see a silhouette against the sky and it
looks too big. And Jonny, we need to get that light back on. There's
no telling what ships are out there. Without the light one of them may
run aground!" He grinned at her.
"Oh, I have every intention of getting the light back on! In fact, I'm
depending on it. Come on." They both moved along the wall toward the
hall leading to the bedrooms. As they passed the wall switch Jonny
reached out and killed the lights. "They'll have more trouble hitting a
target they can't see." They slipped quickly into Jonny's room where he
moved to his computer and started working at the keyboard.
"Yes! They haven't fooled around with the computers. I'll override the
system and set the backup power to kick in at the lighthouse in 10
minutes. As soon as it kicks in, the beacon will come back on and it
should blind our gunman." Jonny looked around. Jessie was no where in
sight.
"Jess?" She reappeared carrying a grappling hook and a length of rope.
"I sent a note to Dr. Quest in New York and to the Rockport police. I
don't know if they'll get it, but . . ." She tossed a set of climbing
gloves at him. "They'll expect us to come in from the main door. I say
we go in by the window on the sea side. I know it's open because I left
it that way this evening." He grinned at her in the flickering light of
the computer screen.
"Slammin'!" They both moved quickly toward the kitchen. Another
gunshot sounded and they heard another window break in the family room.
They moved to the kitchen door.
"They don't know where we are. They're shooting randomly trying to keep
us pinned down. Jonny . . . one thing . . ." Jessie stopped him with a
hand on his arm.
"Yeah?"
"If there's a fight in there . . ."
"Yeah?"
"Francesca's MINE." Jonny grinned in the darkness. Crouching low, both
of them sprinted for the path that led to the lighthouse. Keeping low
they moved into the undergrowth near the base and headed toward the
seaward side. Another shot rang out, but again it appeared to be aimed
at the house. Jonny quickly checked his watch.
"Let's go! We only have about six minutes before the backup systems
come up and the beacon comes back on. Man, I hope that new pilot system
Race installed for the beacon works! This whole thing will be bust if
the beacon light has to warm up." Jonny heard a soft POOF of air and
then the distinctive sound of metal on stone as the grappling hook
caught in the window. The both froze, waiting to see if the sound
brought anyone. After a few seconds, Jessie yanked hard on the rope and
then began to climb. Jonny followed quickly. Three minutes later they
stood in inky blackness inside the lighthouse. They moved quickly up
the stairs keeping one hand on a nearby wall. Dim light resolved itself
into a door that opened into the lab. A tiny figure could be seen
moving around by the light of a flashlight. Papers and data tapes were
strewn everywhere. As they watched, Francesca took another handful of
papers and flung them to the floor in disgust. Suddenly, they heard her
say,
"I've looked everywhere, Dad! They just aren't here. They must be at
the house. Keller said there should have been plans, computer backup
files and probably a prototype." She paused then answered irritably,
"No, I don't know how big it was supposed to be. He didn't say. Can
you tell where Quest and Bannon are?" Jonny tapped Jessie on the
shoulder and pointed upward. She nodded, then quickly laid a hand on
his arm. She looked at him and her eyes seemed to say *Be careful*. He
touched her cheek lightly with one finger, smiled and was gone. Jessie
turned her attention to Francesca, her face turning hard. She checked
her watch and waited patiently. With no warning all the lights came on
and Jessie could hear a pained exclamation from above. She shot through
the door, hit the floor and rolled. A gunshot sounded and floor tile
chips sprayed from a spot two inches from her head. She rolled to her
feet behind the computer console and in one fluid movement lunged for
Francesca's gun hand. It went off again sending sparks from a computer
panel across the room as they grappled for the gun. Jessie twisted her
arm and yanked her over her shoulder sending the tiny woman flying to
land hard in the middle of the floor. The gun went sailing in the other
direction.
Francesca rolled to her feet, snarling. Gone was the beautiful, sweet
faced girl. In her place was a snarling, hate-filled woman with death
in her eyes. A knife suddenly appeared in her hand. In the distance
Jessie heard the sounds of sirens and a helicopter coming in fast.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs outside the room and David Hamilton
flashed by at a full run. Francesca backed toward the door, the knife
weaving and darting. In that instant, Jonny erupted through the door.
Using his own momentum against him she shoved him hard and he went
sprawling at Jessie's feet effectively blocking her advance. Francesca
stared at Jessie in hatred.
"This isn't over, Bannon. I owe you now and you're going to pay.
There'll be another time and another place." Jessie responded coldly,
"I'll look forward to it." And then she was gone.
**********
". . . and that's pretty much the end of it, Dad. The police and the
Coast Guard searched the grounds but they couldn't find either one of
them. The car's still there but Francesca and her Dad have completely
disappeared. Jess and I checked the lab as best we could and as far as
we can tell nothing is missing, but . . ." Jonny shrugged. Jessie
added,
"Since we don't really know what they were searching for it's kind of
hard to tell if anything is missing." Benton Quest shook his head as he
reached for the coffee pot on the kitchen counter. It was 4:00 in the
morning and none of them had gotten any sleep. He and Race Bannon had
arrived home about an hour before, after a frenzied flight from New
York. Jessie's call for help had come just as Benton was getting ready
to shut down the computer and go to bed. He shuddered to think what
might have happened if her message hadn't gotten through. His frantic
call to the Rockport police had sent reinforcements out in force to the
compound. The police notified the Coast Guard, who had already noticed
the lighthouse beacon was inoperative, and had been trying to call the
compound to check on the problem.
Neither one of the kids appeared to be much worse for wear, although
both looked tired as they sat at the kitchen table. More than once he
thought he had caught stealthy looks cast between the two of them, but
they always seemed to occur when the other wasn't looking. Benton shook
his head slightly. Something was going on there, but darned if he could
figure out what it was.
"There's something ringing a bell in my mind about the name Keller,"
Race commented. He held his coffee cup in both hands, seeming to soak
up the warmth, "but I'm not sure what it is. Maybe I'll check with some
of my contacts and see if it rings any bells with them." He set the cup
on the counter behind him and moved purposefully toward the living area.
As he moved past the family room door, he looked in and shook his head.
"What a mess."
Benton looked at his son and Race's daughter. As he watched, Jonny cast
another one of those stealthy looks at Jessie. She was staring at the
surface of the table, lost in thought.
"Jonny?"
"Yeah, Dad?"
"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Jonny assumed an innocent
expression.
"No, I don't think so. Jess, have we left anything out?"
"Hum . . . what? Oh, no . . . no, I don't think so." Jessie's face took
on an expression very similar to the one on Jonny's. Benton sighed.
"OK. Then both of you need to get some sleep." He looked at both of
them sternly. "And tomorrow you will both spend the day cleaning up
that mess in there." He shook his head. "You certainly don't seem to
have gotten very far with the packing. What were you doing while we
were gone?" Jessie and Jonny exchanged a quick look. Jessie said,
"Well, there's been a lot going on at school recently." She rose and
went to Benton Quest and gave him a hug. "Thanks for coming to the
rescue, Dr. Quest." He smiled at her fondly.
"As long as you're both alright. Now off to bed - both of you." Jonny
rose.
"'Night, Dad."
"Good night, son."
The two of them moved quietly through the rubble of the night's
adventures. They both stopped near Jonny's bedroom door and looked back
again, briefly. A lot of things had gotten broken that night. Jonny
took a deep breath and said abruptly,
"I've been a horse's you-know-what the last couple of weeks, Jess. I'm
really sorry. I . . ." Her hand covered his lips gently and she shook
her head.
"Maybe we've both learned some hard lessons recently. Maybe one day
we'll talk about them. But right now is probably not the time." He
looked at her for a minute, the pain clear in his eyes.
"I've never seen you cry before . . . at least not like that . . . not
when you weren't hurt." She looked at him with a look he couldn't read.
"There are a lot of kinds of 'hurt', Jonny. Go to bed. We'll talk
later." And she walked into her room and closed the door quietly.
Jonny stared at it for a long time before going in to bed.
**********
Monday morning dawned bright, clear and cold. Race Bannon and Benton
Quest sat over coffee while Jonny stood at the kitchen counter wolfing
down a bowl of cereal. He looked at his watch and then raised his voice
and yelled,
"Hey, Jess. Come ON. We're going to be late for school if you don't get
a move on. Mike will be here any minute." Race rose and walked to the
counter to refill his cup. He caught a movement out of the corner of
his eye as he waved the pot in Benton's direction and asked,
"More, Ben . . ." He froze in mid-word, his mouth hanging open. Benton
and Jonny stared at him and turned to see what he was looking at.
Jessie stood framed in the doorway, a coat over one arm, her other hand
on her hip. Her hair was brushed until it shown like fire. Her green,
full sleeved blouse turned her eyes the color of faceted emeralds and
her black leather skirt ended well above her knees revealing a great
deal of her very shapely legs. Jonny looked dazed.
"Well, if we're going to be late, then let's go." He shook his head as
if to clear it, dumped his cereal bowl in the sink and grabbed his coat
from the back of his chair. A grin was starting to form on his face as
he moved past his father. Benton could have sworn he hear a soft
"Slammin'!" as his son passed him heading for the door.
As Jessie turned and moved toward the front of the house she smiled
secretly to herself. *People can think what they want,* she thought,
*but MY parents didn't raise a fool!*
THE END
Debbie Kluge
raoul1@advant.com