Page 51 of Not that Impressed
SoIstart bossing people around. “Mom? Can you arrange our flight while Will and I grab what we need? Dad’s going to need the jet to get to Cabo so he can make calls on his flight.”
“Yes, I can do that.” Mom gets up and hurries to her laptop in the kitchen.
I turn to Dad. “You’ve already called the police, right?” I guess.
“FBI,” he says brusquely. “He took her across international borders.”
Straight to the top. “What have they said?”
“They’re sending agents over to get information from us. We’ll need them to coordinate with the Mexican authorities.”
I reach over to touch his arm. “What, Dad?”
He sighs. “Libby’s seventeen, almost eighteen. She went with Hollis willingly. I’m worried they’re not going to make this a priority.”
“We can prove what kind of guy Grayson is,” I reassure him, and Will grunts in agreement. “You know people. You can make them take this seriously. That’s why you get the jet.” I force a smile at my lame joke.
Dad puts an arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him. “Be careful.” His voice breaks.
“Will’s coming with me, Dad. I’ll be fine.”
He pulls back from me. His gaze goes to Will, and Will nods at Dad in a reassuring way. Well, I assume it’s reassuring because it is to me. Dad gives me a tight-lipped nod.
Mom comes back from the kitchen. “I emailed the tickets to you.”
I step away from Dad to hug her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She presses her face into my shoulder for a moment and then pulls away too, taking Dad’s hand in hers. “I’m going to stay here in case Libby comes back.”
Janelle steps into our family circle, putting an arm around Mom. “I’ll stay here with Mom.” We close ranks together, hugging for several moments. Janelle begins whispering a prayer, and we offer soft amens when she’s done. One more moment together and then we all step back, ready to find Libby.
“I’ll walk you out,” Janelle says as I move to Will. “I’ll show you the texts Libby sent me.” I nod slowly in agreement, and the three of us head out. Will takes my hand, which is bold since twocameras are pointed in our direction. It says a lot, in such a small gesture, about his feelings for me. It’s a steadying, calming influence in the middle of this chaos.
When we reach the front door, she looks down at her phone in frustration.
“Another text?” I ask hopefully.
She shakes her head. “Not since you said she called, even though I’ve sent her a couple more. I’ll keep trying.”
We’re quiet as we leave the house and walk down the sidewalk. I glance over my shoulder a couple times to make sure no cameras followed.
“Why are the cameras still here?” I ask Janelle when we reach the driveway. I have the screenshots of Libby’s texts already. Janelle walking us out was an excuse for us to talk alone.
“Dad doesn’t want to come out and say what Grayson did to Anna without her permission, but letting Victoria film our family’s reaction to Libby running off with him and letting people draw conclusions about a twenty-five-year-old guy taking off with a seventeen-year-old is the best he can do. The network will probably leak clips right away.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that angle, which tells me how focused I am right now. I’m usually the one using the cameras for my ulterior motives. “Smart,” I say. Will gives an approving nod.
Janelle wraps her arms around my neck. “It’s not your fault she did this. Libby’s impulsive. She’s seventeen and she thinks she’s mature.”
Will shifts at my side, letting go of my hand so I can hug my sister. “I should’ve done more to convince her. Showed her the letter or something.”
“She still might not have believed you. You saw how she was with Mom and Dad.” Janelle leans back. “Just bring her home.” A small smile creeps onto her lips. “That was pretty brave, Will. Coming when you knew you might be the next big story onBeing the Bennets.”
“Charlie wants to be here,” Will says. He takes my hand back in his. “He’ll come as soon as you say the word.”
Janelle’s cheeks bloom with pink, but her eyes are hopeful. She still shakes her head. “I don’t want to be forced into telling the world about us.” She gestures toward the van behind us. She clenches her jaw in frustration.
“Whatever you decide, he doesn’t care. He wants to be here for you,” Will insists.
