Pursued by Patricia H. Rushford Page A

could break the glass, take out a gun, and shoot the door lock. But she wouldn’t—not yet. The thought of having a way out eased her mind.
    â€œWe could call the police,” Jennie suggested, then quickly shoved that idea aside as well. This wouldn’t be a good time. If they called the cops now, she and Lisa would probably be arrested for breaking and entering. Lisa, still in her swimsuit, didn’t have her cell phone and Jennie never carried hers around. Not that she needed it. There was a phone sitting on Mr. Beaumont’s desk.
    â€œWe could beat on the door and call for help,” Lisa said as she tried the knob again, then raised her fists.
    â€œWait. I have an idea.” Jennie went back to Mr. Beaumont’s desk, checked the phone, and opened the drawers.
    â€œJennie, you shouldn’t…”
    She looked up at Lisa. “Do you remember Allison’s cell phone number?”
    One of the lights on the telephone flashed, and on impulse Jennie picked it up. When no one else answered, she said hello.
    â€œHi…um…Allison?” The voice sounded out of breath, or like the guy might be nervous.
    â€œWho is this?” Jennie asked, softening her voice so she’d sound more like Allison.
    â€œDid you get the flowers?”
    Jennie almost dropped the phone. She put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to Lisa, “It’s him…it’s the stalker.”
    Stay calm, McGrady ... keep him talking. She took a deep breath to slow her racing heart and said, “Y-yes.”
    â€œGood.” After a long pause, the voice said, “I thought I’d come by later tonight so we could talk.”
    â€œHere?” Jennie could hardly think over the boom­boom of her pulse pounding in her ears. This was too weird. It didn’t make sense. Still, neither did stalking people. Her first impulse was to say no. This is your big break, McGrady. You can catch him red-handed. “Sure…” she stammered, “that’ll be fine.”
    â€œGood. See you around ten.”
    â€œWho is this?” she asked. But the line had gone dead.
    Jennie hung up and told Lisa what the caller had said.
    â€œThat’s perfect. We’ll tell Allison and set a trap for him. We’ll call the police and they’ll nab him and it will be all over…Jennie, what’s wrong?”
    Jennie stroked her chin and lowered herself into Mr. B.’s soft green leather chair. “That voice…I’ve heard it before, but it didn’t sound the same as the guy the other night…”
    â€œMaybe he disguised his voice,” Lisa said, leaning against the desk.
    â€œMaybe, but something about this doesn’t feel right.” Jennie set the nagging feeling aside. She’d deal with it later; right now, she had to get them out of Beaumont’s den. Jennie punched the number she’d just been on. Allison answered on the third ring, saying she’d just gotten back to her room.
    Leaving out the part about the caller, Jennie told her what had happened and within three minutes, the door opened and Allison appeared. She looked like she’d been on a week-long crying binge. “I’m so sorry this happened. Who would lock you in here?” Allison grabbed at her throat and leaned against the wall. “He’s in the house. He’s…”
    Jennie thought for a moment Allison was going to lose it again. She put her arms around Allison’s shoulder. “I don’t think so. If he was here, I’m sure he’s gone now, unless…” Unless the stalker is Rocky or B.J., or even your father . Jennie didn’t say the last part out loud. No sense in upsetting her any more—at least not right now. “Never mind,” Jennie finished. “Let’s get out of here before your dad catches us in here.”
    â€œGood idea,” Lisa said, guiding them out and closing the door. “I know it sounds