Jubilee's Journey (Wyattsville #2)(75)

Jubilee said nothing but began picking at a loose thread on the placemat. After a few seconds she glanced sideways at Ethan and, seeing his head tucked down, returned to picking at the thread.

When Olivia disappeared into the bedroom to call Anita, the two kids scooted out the door, climbed on their bikes, and headed toward Monroe Street. It wasn’t often that Ethan so flagrantly defied Olivia’s rules, but in this case he had no alternative. Jubilee had pleaded with an urgency that made it impossible to say no.

“We can’t stay long,” he’d warned. “If we’re not back by lunchtime, Grandma’s gonna know something’s up and she’s likely to come looking for us.”

“A few minutes,” Jubilee promised. “I just wanna tell Paul about Aunt Anita.”

At Monroe Street they paused for the light, and as soon as it turned green they continued to the hospital.

Loretta was on duty that day, and she was none too happy to see Ethan Allen and his sidekick sneaking toward the hallway elevators. “Hold up there!” she called out and scurried across the lobby. Seconds before the elevator door opened, she nabbed Ethan Allen by the back of his shirt and didn’t let go.

“You let go of him!” Jubilee screamed and gave her a kick in the shin.

The sharp edge of Jubilee’s Mary Jane shoe caused a bump to rise up, and Loretta momentarily loosened her grip. With a strong tug Ethan Allen pulled free, but before he got two steps away Loretta screeched, “Security!”

It seemed the officer came from out of nowhere, a burly policeman who towered over the two kids. “These monsters,” Loretta stammered, “were trying to sneak in again.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again. They’ve done it before. The boy’s been in trouble any number of times, and the girl’s related to that shooter who was in ICU.”

“Is that true, son?” the officer asked.

Ethan shrugged. “It ain’t how she says.”

“Oh?” The officer raised an eyebrow. “So what’s your side of the story?”

“We wasn’t sneaking nowhere. We come to visit Jubilee’s brother.”

“Liar!” Loretta huffed.

“Enough.” The officer shot Loretta a warning glare, then turned back to Ethan. “So, who is this brother you’re here to visit?”

Jubilee spoke up. “Paul Jones.”

“See?” Loretta snapped. “Crime obviously runs in that family!”

“Let them tell the story,” the officer warned. He turned back to the kids. “Are you aware Paul Jones is no longer here at the hospital?”

“Not here?”

A tear was already overflowing Jubilee’s left eye. “Where is he?”

Before the officer had time to answer Loretta said, “Hauled off to jail where he belongs!”

“Missus Clemens!” the officer growled. “Go back to your desk, and leave this to me!”

By then Jubilee was bawling so loudly the folks back in Campbell’s Creek most likely heard her.





When the telephone rang at eleven-fifteen, Olivia thought it might be Anita calling back with a decision. Their conversation had gone reasonably well, and while Anita hadn’t agreed to anything she did concede that having full responsibility for a child might be a bit overwhelming for a woman in her position.

“I’m divorced,” she’d said sadly. “Husbandless. Freddie was a good man but I constantly picked at him, blamed him for my own shortcomings. I suppose it’s because after I lost Ruth…” The remainder of what Anita wanted to say never came. Olivia waited for nearly a minute thinking she might go on, but the only thing she added was a long heavy sigh. The weight of that sigh ricocheted through the telephone wire and spun Olivia back to the days when she too had been alone. The days after Charlie’s death, the days when no friends knocked at the door or delivered casseroles. Those days were long and lonely. They were something she would not wish on anyone, let alone this poor unfortunate woman who was Jubilee’s blood relative.

Before hanging up the telephone Olivia suggested Anita come for dinner sometime soon. She didn’t specify when but left the invitation open-ended.

When Olivia picked up the receiver for the second time she was prepared to say Sunday. “Come for dinner on Sunday,” is what she was going to suggest, but the caller wasn’t Anita. It was Loretta Clemens.

Loretta’s voice was almost gleeful. “I don’t suppose you know where that ill-mannered grandson of yours is right now, do you?”

Right off Olivia suspected Loretta knew something and was itching to tell. “At the moment, I suspect he’s at the playground,” she said warily.

“Ha! A lot you know! He’s nowhere near the playground. He’s here at the hospital with that little ragamuffin he’s befriended.”

During the past two days Olivia had come to know the sound of Jubilee’s wail, and she recognized it in the background. “Oh, my God! Is Ethan Allen okay? What’s wrong with Jubilee?”

“Nothing that a little discipline won’t fix,” Loretta replied smugly.

“Loretta, if you’ve done something to those children—”

“I’ve done nothing. They did it to themselves.”

“Did what?” Olivia demanded.