The muffled music seemed to originate from the corner of her room by the door, yet no device marred the flat expanse.
An older couple occupied the apartment above and rarely made much noise, except when their grandchildren visited. Hoover returned, still barking.
A mental picture of hanging from the ceiling by her fingernails came to mind. Following the canine back to the living room, Abby gripped her canister of pepper spray tight. Still, she detected no tangible threat. The curtains in front of the slider didn’t move, nor did any lingering shadows after switching on the living room light.
Her canine companion finally settled on a direction to focus her ire. Bouncing from one foot to the other in front of the sliding door didn’t define the nature of the danger, but it seemed unlikely the dog sensed a deer or wild animal. Her keen sense of hearing or smell detected some type of menace.
Terror coated Abby’s body with perspiration.
“What is it, girl?”
Abby had learned well the hard lessons concerning pride and danger. Snagging her cell from the table, she hit the speed dial.
Royden answered before the end of the first ring. “On my way. What’s going on?”
“I-I’m not sure,” Abby shouted to be heard over the dog barking. Now that she was in the kitchen, she heard a faint clinking noise outside the slider. Though she didn’t have perfect pitch, she distinguished the sound as lighter, higher in tone.
Vomit rose to the back of her mouth. To experience terror when alone encompassed a different realm of reality than when Royden stood by her side holding a gun. If not for Hoover, she might have succumbed to her fear.
“I’m at your door, Abs. Coming in.”
She hadn’t heard the clicks of the knob, but in the next instant, Royden rushed inside, his gaze searching for a threat before coming to rest on Abby’s face.
He secured the door and several heartbeats after securing the apartment, tugged her in his arms for a brief hug while listening to her explanation. “Ethan and Billy will be here shortly.”
“If someone were to get inside, Hoover would have their neck between her jaws.”
“I know. But I still want to have a look around outside.”
Time fragmented into different scenarios where imaginary demons melted from the walls, taking shape and form to slaughter the occupants. Somewhere between the time Royden arrived and when he left to clear her rooms, the music had stopped.
If she hadn’t been afraid of sounding insane, she would’ve told him about the soft laughter mocking her thoughts. When she’d pivoted to look behind her, no visible threat had appeared. It hadn’t originated from her head after a couple glasses of wine with dinner.
Royden held her loosely as if afraid of spooking a defensive reaction. His expression equated to someone handling a wild animal on the verge of attack.
“I didn’t imagine the music.”
“I heard it when I first arrived.”
“I didn’t imagine the knocking outside the slider, either.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me right away?” He took her by the elbow and led her to stand beside the refrigerator, a shield between her and the glass partition. “Stay.”
If she hadn’t been terrified, she would’ve barked. As it was, Hoover sat by her side and kept her calm. Intermittent growls depicted the dog’s ongoing displeasure at something outside.
Royden pulled back the curtain and vertical slats, then peered out on the small balcony while talking on his cell. His tone held none of the reassuring warmth in dealing with her. Anger tinged the conversation even as he described the circumstances and directed her brothers to check the area surrounding her unit.
“Thanks, Billy. I assume you’ll call—”
A slight pause.
“Thanks. I’ll wait with Abby until backup arrives. I don’t want to leave her alone.”
The concern in his gaze melted her heart. He wasn’t just her anchor in a whirling vortex of chaos. No, he existed as the solid base, as half of the foundation on which she stood.
Minutes later, she heard the squeal of tires and car doors slamming outside. Her brothers had arrived en masse.
Royden ushered them in, each McAllister angrier than the one before. They’d need to see her before searching the area.
“I’m fine, guys. Just a little spooked.” It was going to be a sleepless night.
“Yeah, but you know we had to see for ourselves, half-pint.” Matt ruffled her hair before heading out.
Their search didn’t take long. Royden kept up a steady stream of dialogue while they waited. Matt was the last to return, his dog Damien by his side.
“I didn’t find anything unusual out there tonight, but Damien and I will come back tomorrow and take another look.” At hearing his name, the dog in question whined, as if eager for activity.
“Sorry to pull you guys out here so late. I feel like a fainting lily.”
“You’re anything but that, Abs.” Royden’s arm circled her waist and snugged her tighter to his side. “I heard the piano music when I first arrived.”
“Music?” Matt and Caden asked simultaneously.
“Yeah, some kind of morbid, classical shit,” Royden muttered. “We need to do a thorough sweep of the apartment. It had a weird muffled quality, but not like it was coming through walls. Source is probably near the bedroom.”
“Ethan and Billy are checking with the neighbors on either side and the floor above and below this apartment.” Matt turned at the sound of the front door opening, a question written in the arch of his brow.
Lucas shook his head en route to the kitchen, his frustration evident. “What’cha got to eat around here?”
“Not much, I’m afraid.” Abby nudged him out of the way to start a pot of coffee. It was one thing she could make that everyone appreciated.
“Abby, you said it sounded like metal clinking against metal?” Royden shoved the window coverings back and opened the slider.
“Maybe some kids were chucking small stones, but I don’t see anything other than the chairs you keep out there.” Matt stepped out behind Royden.
“I didn’t open the curtain but an inch or so.” Abby retrieved mugs and set them on the countertop by the pot.
“I’m glad you’re up on the second floor. Access to your balcony—” Matt’s stream of conversation halted on a sudden inhale.
“What?” Abby pushed Lucas aside to see. The click of the light switch beside the door resounded in her head. She didn’t need more fodder for nightmares.
Dangling from the balcony above and to the side, a shovel twirled in the breeze at the end of a thick piece of nylon rope. The length of the return disappeared in the branches of the nearby tree.
“Someone tied this to the handle, then managed to throw the end up and over the upper balcony before tying it off on a branch.” Matt clicked his flashlight on and leaned over the balcony. “Which is why we didn’t see anything from below.”
The rounded blade of the tool bore evidence of its trade. Red clay clung to the edges. It appeared to be fresh.
Abby took an involuntary step to the side and stumbled over something near the wall. On closer examination, she picked up the object. “Oh, hell.”
“What is it?” Royden turned her to the side. “Sonofabitch.”
The shudder roaring up her spine carried a chill that reminded her of the underground prison. A voiceless plea screamed through her skull. “Royden?”
Matt pulled a nitrile glove from his pocket and took the stethoscope. “Billy, get this to the lab.”
Dark crimson gleamed on the bell and covered the diaphragm. Grim expressions indicated the unanimous concern for a certain orthopedic doctor’s well-being.
“I didn’t—”
“We know, Abs. We know.” Royden turned her into his arms, sliding a hand up her back and cupping her head against his chest.
“It’s him. It’s Zachery, Dr. Carrigan’s brother. Has to be.”
“A definite
possibility.” Royden brushed a kiss across the crown of her head as Lucas and Matt examined the shovel. “If it is, we’ll get him. You’re safe.”
Tears brimmed her eyes at the hoarseness of his voice. If he continued to stand between her and danger, he’d die.
“He’ll kill you to get to me.”
“Nobody’s going to die—at least not one of us.” It was the closest he’d ever come to declaring intent to break any law to protect her.
Just like my brothers, he intends to kill the stalker.
Royden led her to the living room and sat with her on the sofa. The inane realization that she wore pajamas instead of a slinky nightgown registered as one of those facts reflected upon when avoiding a difficult situation.
He didn’t speak, didn’t urge her to open up, but merely sat with his arm around her shoulder. A patient man that knew how to make his quarry spill their guts without uttering a word. She’d teased him about it being a shrink thing, but detective work had honed the skill to a fine art.
“He’s referencing the basement cell, isn’t he? He wants me to remember.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
As if trying to provide their own form of comfort, Damien and Hoover padded to her side. Hoover laid her furry head in Abby’s lap while Damien watched expectantly then whined. The shepherds’ soft fur sifting through her fingers yielded a calming effect.
“It could well be but remember this. You escaped that hellhole and defeated him in the end.”
“I know. I kept my wits about me and bided my time.” Though she’d given the outline of what had happened after her kidnapping, she’d never revisited the horror, fear, and sheer panic that had comprised her every waking moment of captivity. Two days in complete darkness had left its stamp on her psyche and her heart.
“You made a plan and saw it through.” Royden traced small circles between her shoulder blades.
“I’ve told you and everyone else what happened down there.”
“Yes. Yes, you did. And you know that at the very least, he’s going to be in prison for the rest of his life. He’ll never get to you again.”
Royden was great at reiterating facts she either knew or had surmised prior. It was his method of staying with the subject matter, in the moment, and drawing her out when he wanted her to talk specifics. She’d become equally adept at changing the subject.
“Someone is working on his behalf. Or, it’s someone who’s done his homework and wants to mimic what he did to me.”
“And why do you think someone would copy his MO?” The brush of his mouth across the crown of her head reminded her how small she was, yet cherished.
The swirl of his fingertips along her neck grounded her in a way nothing else could, reminding her he remained by her side with every step she took.
“To bring me back to my worst fear? Yet how could he know I haven’t suffered a bigger trauma in my life?”
“Maybe he has inside information.”
“I’ve not spoken about that time with anyone else. I don’t talk about personal information of that nature to anyone, not even to family.”
“Which is why...” He waited for her to finish.
“Which is why it stays bottled up, and I compensate with daredevil activities.” She’d known all along that the small power-packed revelation was something he’d been waiting to hear.
“I believe that’s right.” Again, he said next to nothing and waited.
“I thought I was going to die down there. That you nor my brothers would ever find my body.” A small sob escaped, led to a choked cough, then stormed the floodgates holding her emotions in check.
“But you didn’t give in to fear. You held it together, formulated a plan, and carried it through. You kept your head in the worst possible situation and survived hell. Not everyone can say that.”
“I didn’t crumble.” It was the first time she’d realized and felt the truth of the matter. The knowledge cleared the path for other flashbacks to surface, things she’d forgotten or suppressed.
A shudder forced her entire body to twitch.
“What?”
“I remember spiders. I hate spiders.”
“What else?”
“I heard rats, scratching and squeaking. It occurred to me that if I’d stayed down there long enough, I could’ve befriended them, something I read about in old-world prisons.”
“You’re not the only one with an aversion to them.” He referenced Lexi’s experience with a deranged psychopath.
Abby described the finer details of her captivity while Royden continued to offer support, both emotional and through his soft touch. So lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed her siblings standing at the edge of the kitchen, listening to every word spoken.
The pain etched in their expressions mirrored that on Royden’s face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, guys.”
Royden helped her up, understanding her need to comfort the men who felt responsible for her kidnapping.
“Matt, Lucas, you know it was my own fault. I was the one who left the courthouse without an escort. I got myself into that mess.” Anger forced the words out with more venom than intended.
“And you got yourself out of it, too,” Royden reminded her.
“Jesus, half-pint. You’re my baby sister.” Matt held his arms wide, needing the affirmation as much he did.
“You have to stop feeling responsible for us all, especially me. It’s time you set yourself free to live your own life, on your own terms.”
“I look forward to the day Matt cuts loose,” Royden murmured, a cocky grin tilting one side of his mouth.
She smiled when the rest of them made it a group hug.
“Does this mean you’re going to stop doing all the crazy shit, now?” Lucas brushed the crown of her head with a kiss.
“I suppose so... but I’d really thought about going skydiving. It’s one fear I haven’t conquered. Mitzie says her brother’s in this club—”
“No.” From behind, Royden’s emphatic tone set a limit he wouldn’t cross. “I draw the line at jumping out of a perfectly functioning airplane.”
“So, you’d rather I take up knitting? Perhaps become a card sharp?”
“I don’t want to spend my spare time pulling you out of casinos, either. Thanks, but no.” Matt ruffled her hair and stepped back.
“Then how about helping me find a dog. I want a puppy.”
“That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard you say in months.” Matt’s smile reversed direction and forewarned of an unpleasant conversation ahead.
“I know. I know. I can’t stay here, tonight. Believe me, after this, I don’t want to.” Her questioning glance to Royden elicited a sympathetic smile. “My things are packed.”
Ethan and Billy returned, each shaking their head to the unasked question.
“It seems my stalker is trying to increase the fear factor before striking. He’s playing with me.”
“Which brings me back to the music. Did you recognize the piece, Abby? It sounded like someone took it and put it through a virtual blender.” Royden searched the upper corners of the living room then headed toward her bedroom.
“No, but while held captive, the asswipe had a speaker in the upper corner of my cell. Several times, I thought I heard music, but I was drugged at the time and could have been hallucinating. It’s hard to say.”
“Damn.” From the bedroom, Royden’s exclamation morphed into a string of curses.
Lucas pulled Abby aside as Matt strode toward the source of Royden’s anger. His epithets soon filled the apartment.
“No, Abby. Let Royden and Matt handle it,” Luc murmured.
“I want to see, dammit.”
Royden reappeared in the living room holding a small metal device covered with a thin layer of fabric. “Someone’s been inside your apartment, Abs.”
“That’s how they piped music in my bedroom? Where was it hidden?”
“Behind the grate in the wall vent.”
“Sonofabitch. The prick was in my home!”
Chapter Nineteen
As much as Royden wanted Abby in his home, this wasn’t the scenario he’d foreseen. Lines bracketed her eyes and mouth, the strain of uprooting her entire existence weighing on her shoulders. The emotional toll of their discussion had deepened her furrowed brow.
She needed to get it out. Just because he understood the path of emotional healing didn’t mean he could force her to walk it. Time was a fickle master, taking a victim back to relive their trauma one day, then rocketing them forward into the future on the next.
He’d noted the physical responses to stress in patients during his schooling and training days, which combined to flesh out and guide him through their horrors. Each case left scars on his psyche as they would have with any reasonably sane human. Abby’s though, took pain to a whole new level.
“I know you and my brothers have taken extra security measures.”
The stethoscope found on Abby’s balcony surely belonged to Charlee, yet neither he nor Abby opened that tangled web. He hadn’t heard from Ethan, who’d gone to check on the doctor. No news didn’t equate to good news.
“Yes, and I’ll explain them after we’re settled.”
“I don’t think I’m gonna sleep tonight. That music... despite the obvious attempt to mangle the piece, there was something about it.” She sighed as she set down the bag of perishables taken from her fridge and slid the backpack with Hoover’s supplies off her shoulder. Mindless tasks of putting them away would sort her thoughts. “I can’t put my finger on it.”
“We could sit up for a while, watch a movie, play some cards, whatever.” After setting her suitcase down, he took her jacket and hung it in the hall closet.
Hoover ambled to the kitchen as Abby opened the fridge “Actually, I think I’ll finish this, get Hoover some water, and go to bed. I need to close my eyes even if I can’t sleep.” Putting thought to action, she filled the dog’s water bowl and set it on the floor.
Royden felt her need for contact, to be held secure and know nothing would bring her harm. He’d go to any length to help her regain her former grip on life.
McAllister Justice Series Box Set Page 41
