Secrets I Have Kept

One

Jennifer Barret glanced at the clock on the white wicker table beside her bed for at least the hundredth time that night. Midnight. She paced, her arms hugged across her chest.

Where are you, Dad? she whispered. Why are you so late?

She paused by the phone, lifted the receiver, and dialed her father’s office at Orion Laboratories. The answering machine clicked on. She hung up. Something was wrong. But what?

In her mind she played back her father’s phone call earlier. How long ago was it? Six o’clock, she thought. She was on her way out the door to go to the basketball game with her best friend, Iris, when he called. Saxet High was one win away from the state tournament, but her dad told her to stay home until he got there. He had sounded tense, jittery, even frightened. So she obeyed. And that was the last she had heard from him.

She tossed a pile of shirts and jeans to one side, flopped down on her bed, and ruffled the ears of the blue-speckled dog curled on the pillows. Dad’s not at work, Chopin, she said. Where do you suppose he is?

The dog opened one eye a hairline crack and yawned.

Jen joked to hide the unease growing inside her. What’s that you say, boy? You think Dad is at Lani’s, doing whatever old people do on a date? Do they kiss?

She wrinkled her nose at the thought. If Dad is at Lani’s, then why did he order me to stay home, when he hasn’t shown up? Thanks to his phone call, I missed the most important game of the season. She sighed. I don’t understand him anymore. Ever since he met Lani he’s acted like a lovesick schoolboy, while here I sit, bored to death. It isn’t fair.

With her emotions switching from worry to irritation, she dialed Lani’s house, ready to complain, and got her second recorded message of the evening. She dropped the receiver in its cradle. I do not talk to machines, she told Chopin.

The dog sat up, his amber eyes alert and on his girl.

Soft music rolled from the CD player—Schubert’s La Serenade. Branches of the mulberry tree outside her open window scraped against the roof. The red-and-white curtains rustled in the crisp spring breeze. Jen shivered and hurried to close the window. The glare of headlights coming down Harmony Road caught her eye. Dad’s home, she said with relief. Finally.

The vehicle drew even with the iron gate at the end of the gravel drive, half a mile from the house, but instead of turning in, it stopped and sat there for a minute. Even at that distance she could see it was a car. Her father drove a pickup. The car then sped off, disappearing around a bend in the road.

It wasn’t Dad, she said, disappointed. This isn’t like him, Chopin. He always calls me when he’s delayed. Or when he’s going to Lani’s.

At that moment, the phone rang, making her jump. She grabbed it. Dad, what is going on? Do you know what time it is? When are you coming home?

Silence on the other end.

Hello? Dad?

The line went dead. Wrong number? She hung up.

The phone rang again.

She yanked it to her ear. Listen, you... you creep. I don’t know who you are, or what game you’re playing, but it’s rude to hang up on a person. Get some manners. Talk to me. Say something.

A deep, masculine voice said, Jennifer? What’s wrong? You sound upset.

Oh, Mitch. I thought... Never mind. She stretched across the bed, her anger fading. I’m okay. But it’s been a strange night. Did you call me a few minutes ago?

No. Why?

Someone did, but they hung up, without a word. It was probably kids playing a joke, choosing numbers out of the phone book, the way we used to, saying ‘Is your refrigerator running? You’d better catch it.’ Remember?

Yeah, Mitch said, a hint of worry in his voice. Are you there alone, Jennifer?

She bit her lip. Great, she thought. Why did I tell him about the call? He’s so protective of me, worse than Dad, if that’s possible. Neither of them seem to realize I’m sixteen now, a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need Mitch hovering over me. Why didn’t I keep quiet?

I’m not alone, she snapped, sharper than she intended. Chopin’s here.

Mitch was quiet, and she instantly regretted the way she had snapped at him. He cared for her, too much. They had been friends and neighbors all their lives. She knew that he wanted to be more than friends, but she wasn’t ready for a serious relationship yet, with Mitch or anyone.

Chopin wriggled closer and rooted his nose under her hand, wanting to be petted. She obliged and scratched the dog’s chin.

You still there, Mitch? she asked.

Yes.

I’m sorry. I am a little upset, but it’s not your problem. Let’s talk about something more interesting. How was the basketball game? Did Saxet High’s star senior score lots of points?

A few. I only play my best games when you’re there. I missed you, Jennifer.

Yeah, I’m sure you missed me with half the girls in school drooling over your brown eyes and begging to feel your biceps. Oooh! Mitchie, baby, she teased, those rippling muscles. She puckered her lips and made loud smacking noises into the receiver.

Talking to Mitch brought order back to her confusing night and helped her forget about her dad, at least temporarily.

He chuckled. You’re the only girl allowed to touch my biceps or any other part of my anatomy.

I don’t believe that. Is Iris allowed? Or that cute redhead I saw you with last week?

Nice try, Jennifer, he said, suddenly serious, but you can’t distract me that easily. Is your father home?

Mitch’s persistent questions were beginning to annoy her. He will be soon.

I knew it! You are alone! What if that phone call was the burglar who’s been terrorizing the county for the past month? Maybe he was checking to see if anybody was home. He hit the Smiths’ house late last night and stole some expensive jewelry. What if he breaks into your place?

The doors are locked, and Chopin—

Chopin rounds up cattle. He’d run from a burglar. I’ll be over in a few minutes.

That isn’t necessary, Jen said. But she was talking to thin air.

She slammed down the receiver. Mitch was impossible. This whole situation was a nightmare. She sat up, reached over, and switched off the CD player. The room grew eerily quiet. She rubbed her arms, trying to decide what to do. I could call Sheriff Loban, she thought. What would I say? My dad is missing? Of course he’s more than likely on a date. The sheriff would love that. I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Dad and Lani probably went to the late movie and then to eat and forgot about the time, and me.

Chopin slapped a wet doggy-kiss on Jen’s nose. His tail wagged from side to side, like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.

I don’t fool you for a minute, do I, boy? she said. And you are absolutely right. So much for being independent. I’m glad Mitch is coming over. I can’t handle this by myself. I need company, and advice. A shoulder to lean on is always nice, especially Mitch’s. We’ll wait for him downstairs.

She rose, tucked her shirt in her jeans, and tugged on her boots. She pulled her long, honey-gold hair into a ponytail and was tying it with a green silk ribbon when the floor outside her door creaked. She swept a quick look across the room. Dad? Is that you? Mitch?

No one answered.

The door murmured quietly, as someone opened it. Tears of relief flooded Jen’s eyes at the sight of her dad’s husky figure. She forced them back. Thank goodness you’re home, she said, willing the tremors from her voice. I called the lab. I called Lani. I was afraid you’d had an accident or something.

Her father pressed a finger to her lips. Shh, Jennifer. I’ll explain on the way to Lani’s.

We’re going to Lani’s? Why?

He took a deep breath, peeled back the curtains, and peered outside, as though he hadn’t heard her. Get Chopin, Jennifer. Let’s go.

At the mention of his name, the Australian cattle dog leaped off the bed, padded to the door, halted, and looked back at his girl. His tongue drooped out the corner of his mouth as he waited patiently. Next to chasing cattle, riding in the pickup was Chopin’s favorite thing to do. Five minutes later, Sam Barret drove his cranberry-red pickup, lights off, out the back entrance of the old Victorian house, where Jen had lived her whole life. He headed west, down a dark Texas back road, toward Lani’s home in Saxet, the nearby town.

Inside the pickup, Jen scrunched against the seat, her fingers buried in Chopin’s thick fur. Her dad was strong, dependable, always in control. What had happened to make him this tense, this nervous? Why are we running to Lani’s in the middle of the night? she asked, confused.

It’s a long story, Jennifer. The less you know, the better. Her father shoved his glasses higher on his nose. I’ll tell you this much. I’ve run into some problems at the lab. Until they’re solved, I want you to stay with Lani. She’s expecting us.

Only once before had Jen seen her dad this uptight—after her brother’s accident, years ago. She was more puzzled than ever. Problems, Dad? What kind of problems? Did you grow a man-eating plant? Or shrink Dr. Morgan? Or turn your assistant into a pumpkin?

Her father did not laugh at her futile attempt at humor. I have reason to believe your life is in danger, he said thinly. Trust me on this one. And, Jennifer, if anything happens to me... go to Lani. She’ll explain.

Jen shivered. Why hadn’t she grabbed her jacket? But it wasn’t the cold that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. It was her dad’s words—if anything happened to him. Fear curled inside her. She reached over and touched his arm to reassure him. Or herself?

A red BMW zoomed past them. Jen leaned forward. Dad, that was Mitch. He’s on his way to the house. We have to go back.

There isn’t time. Once Mitch realizes we aren’t home, he’ll leave. Her dad glanced Jen’s way. You know how I feel about that boy, Jennifer. You spend too much time with him. He has a wild streak that’s just asking for trouble. Stay away from him, before he hurts you.

Mitch is my friend, she said in his defense. He’d never hurt me. If you’d give him a chance—

He had his chance. End of discussion. My concern now is your safety.

Jen looked out the window. They’d had this discussion many times. Her dad had his reasons for disliking Mitch, and she understood, but she didn’t have to agree. To the west, gray storm clouds were building. Lightning flashed. She clutched Chopin tightly.

Safety from what? she asked, not sure she wanted to know, asking nonetheless.

Before her dad could answer, a car came up behind them, fast, its headlights a glare in their rearview mirror. Without warning, the car rammed their rear bumper with a crackling jolt that popped Jen’s head back. She let out a squeak, more in surprise than pain.

Her father gave her a quick look. You all right?

I think so.

Buckle your seat belt then, Jennifer, and hang on. We’ll try to outrun him.

As soon as she was strapped in, her dad hunched over the steering wheel, gripping it so hard the bones in his hands pushed against his skin. His knuckles stretched white. He mashed the accelerator to the floorboard, and the pickup shot ahead.

The car kept pace, dangerously close. Suddenly, it whipped to the other side of the road, pulled even, and veered into the side of the truck.

With a jarring, tooth-grinding crunch, the vehicles collided. Jen bit her lip, tasted blood. Her hand flew to her mouth as she caught a glimpse of a silver Mercedes.

Metal screeched against metal.

Sparks flew.

Tires squealed.

The Mercedes swerved into them again, sending the pickup skittering across the soft shoulder of the road, where it jumped an irrigation ditch and came to rest in a field of winter wheat. Plumes of dust billowed up around the truck, like smoke from a prairie fire. The Mercedes parked a short distance in front of them. The door on the driver’s side opened.

Jen’s father fumbled in his shirt pocket, pulled out a crinkled candy wrapper, and scribbled some numbers on it. He folded the paper into her hand. Get to a phone, he said. Call this number. If no one answers, call Lani. He kissed her on the forehead, leaned across the seat, and pushed open the door. Now get out of here.

What about you?

Don’t worry about me. Get help. And don’t look back. No matter what. Understand?

No, but I’ll go. She stuffed the candy wrapper in her pocket and slipped out into the night. Taking a deep breath, she glanced around to