Pursued by Patricia H. Rushford Page B

terrible with so many more important things going on, but do you think we could eat dinner? I’m starved.”
    The detour to food and hostessing mobilized Allison to action. She glanced at her watch. “Oh…of course, it’s almost seven. That’s a great idea. Let’s order a pizza. We’ll send Rocky over to Antonio’s.”
    The girls went back upstairs and spent the next few minutes putting together an order. Rocky shifted impatiently as Allison specified their pizza toppings. He clearly did not want to go, and Jennie couldn’t help but wonder why. After all, he was supposed to be working for the Beaumonts.
    Jennie, Lisa, Allison, and a disgruntled B.J., whom they’d found sulking in her room, took the pizza and drinks to the pool area. For the next half hour they gorged themselves. Detective work—or maybe it was being scared out of your wits—sure gave you an appetite. The four of them managed to put away a large pan pizza supreme and two pitchers of diet cola.
    Reluctant to talk about the stalker, they kept the conversation on a safe level and discussed the party instead. At least Lisa and Allison did. B.J., strangely silent, stared at some spot on the other side of the pool. Was she involved in all this…and if so, to what extent? Had B.J. written the message on the mirror? Had she locked them in her dad’s office? Did she know the guy was coming over? That might account for her behavior.
    Soon Jennie would have to broach the subject of the stalker’s visit. She’d wait as long as she could, but sooner or later, Allison would need to know about her guest. Jennie glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty. But not yet. In half an hour, she promised herself.
    Jennie leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The trouble with mysteries was that there were always so many angles…so many questions.
    Who would want to stalk Allison? Why would someone steal a gun from Beaumont’s gun case? Why stalk Allison? Why send love notes one time and threats the next? Why write a message on Allison’s mirror? Why lock her and Lisa into Beaumont’s den? And why would the stalker call to announce his arrival as if he were setting up a date? It didn’t make sense.
    Jennie opened her eyes and caught B.J. staring at her. The girl quickly looked away then jumped to her feet. The chair she’d been sitting in clattered to the concrete floor. She stooped to pick it up. “Look…” she began. “I-I have something to tell you. I…”
    Jennie leaned forward.
    â€œNot here,” B.J. said. “Al’s room.”
    They silently took the remains of their dinner into the kitchen and headed upstairs. Once inside the cotton candy room, B.J. closed the door and leaned against it. “I’m the one who locked you in the den.” B.J. dropped into the chair nearest the door. As though reading the question in Jennie’s mind, she added, “But I didn’t write that message, I swear it. I guess I was just upset that everyone suspects me.”
    Jennie opened her mouth to deny the accusation, but B.J. cut her off. “Don’t bother denying it…I can see it in your eyes. Anyway, when I came in from the pool I heard you downstairs and…I don’t know…I guess I just wanted to scare you or something. I’m sorry.”
    â€œI never suspected you.” Allison came up behind B.J. and put a hand on her shoulder.
    â€œThanks.” B.J. hunched her shoulders forward. “Anyway, I think I know who the stalker is.”
    All talk about the den was forgotten. “Who?” the girls asked together.
    B.J. straightened. Her arrogant look had returned. Jennie half expected her to say, “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” or “You’re the detective, you tell me.” But she didn’t. She glanced at the door and whispered, “Rocky.”
    Jennie let out a long breath.