Just as Abby was making the curve in the road, she saw a blue Honda Civic off on the shoulder ahead with its flashers on. She reduced her speed.
There, standing at the front bumper, was Jason’s son, Bryce. He had a hand in the air, waving to stop her.
“Oh, buddy, you are so busted,” she muttered.
She pulled onto the shoulder, right behind the Civic.
CHAPTER 25
Jason had just seen his first patient of the afternoon out the door when a text message came in from Abby.
phone almost dead stopping to c dad c u later
“Dammit, Abby.” He was dialing her number when Brenna came in the door his patient had just exited.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, Peanut.” He disconnected before he finished dialing. “This is a surprise.” Sticking his head out the office door, he looked out into the drive for Lucy’s or Bryce’s car. Neither was there. He was, however, pleased to see the new tires on the Explorer because he might just have to go drag Abby back here and lock her up. “How did you get here?”
“Mom dropped me off. We got out of school early today. Bryce wasn’t home. She said to tell you she had some errands and she’d pick me up later.”
“She just dropped you off?” His voice tightened with anger.
“She saw Mrs. McCutcheon come out and walk down the driveway, so she knew you were here working.”
He realized he was grinding his teeth. He put on a neutral face and asked, “Have you had lunch?”
“Yep.”
“Do you have homework?”
“Nope. And Father Kevin cancelled PSR this week, so I don’t have that stuff, either. Daddy, do you think Father Kevin is sick?”
“I don’t know, baby. Maybe. But he had a fall this week and broke some ribs. I’m sure that’s why he cancelled class.”
“Oh, no. I bet that hurt.” She looked pensive for a moment. “I pray for him every night.”
“That’s the best gift you could give him,” Jason said, marveling at his daughter’s extraordinary compassion at such a young age.
“Okay, then.” He clapped his hands. “I have my last patient in a few minutes. Do you want to watch a DVD or something?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”
She was so used to having her life blown by the winds of her mother’s whims that she wasn’t nearly as affected by this impromptu visit as Jason was. What was Lucy thinking? All she had to do was call. He always took Brenna when he got the chance. But, Jesus, to dump the child on the curb! After he got Bren set up in the den, he’d be calling Lucy. How freakin’ irresponsible.
When he was popping in Charlotte’s Web, he said, “So was your brother home for dinner last night?”
“Yeah,” Brenna said. “Mom’s real mad at him.”
Jason stood and put his hands on his hips. “So am I.”
“I don’t know why. He’s lost it before and nobody got this mad.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “Lost what?”
“His iPod. He lost it again. It’s his new one, the one Mom bought after he lost the white one.” Then she tilted her head. “Why are you mad at him?”
“Mom replaced the white one?”
“Yeah.” She slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes grew large. “Oops! I wasn’t supposed to tell that. Please don’t tell Mommy that I told you.”
“Don’t worry.” He started to walk away, miffed that on top of everything else, Lucy was teaching their daughter to keep secrets from him. Then he stopped and turned back around. “Bren, what color is his new iPod?”
Her eyes were focused on the TV screen. “Silver. It’s cool. Mom had his real dad’s birthday put on it.”
Jason flashed hot, his mouth instantly dry. 226. 2-26. February 26.
Could his son have vandalized the Whitman cemetery?
All of the things that had happened to Abby over the past days raced through Jason’s mind. The police stressed the events were probably connected to the accident. Probably. Not absolutely. Jason had been so focused on the incidents all being done by the same person that he hadn’t seen what should have been obvious early on. The attacks were inconsistent. There were two entirely different levels of things happening to Abby: Vandalism and mischief versus death threats and attempts on her life. Careless loss of an iPod in the cemetery versus a break-in so sophisticated that there was no trace of evidence.
Bryce didn’t have access to a boat, so Jason felt sure he wasn’t behind the more serious issues. But, damn, why hadn’t Jason seen the inconsistencies sooner?
Jason paced outside the den. He went back over the events around Abby’s slit tires. Bryce had made no attempt to hide his displeasure when they’d taken Abby into the house after she’d collapsed on the street.
That morning when he’d come to pick them up he’d been moody. Jason had written it off to a teenage boy being abruptly awakened. Abby’s Explorer had been sitting in the driveway and Bryce hadn’t even asked why they hadn’t driven her car over to pick up Jason’s.
Why would Bryce take such a sudden turn? He was always responsible beyond his years, so protective of his mother and sister—
Protective! That was the key.
Brenna’s words from a telephone conversation a few days ago came back to him: “Bryce said if we’re all real good, you’ll come home. I’ve been good, Daddy. When are you coming home?”
Abby was a threat to reuniting their family. Even though Jason had been clear, he’d thought the children understood… but what if Lucy was feeding them something different?
He dialed Bryce’s cell. It rang six times and rolled to voice mail—as it had every time Jason called him for the past two days.
Then he called Lucy’s cell—and the same thing happened.
Goddammit, where was she?
He looked at the clock. His next appointment was due any minute.
Jason tried Abby’s cell. It went directly to voice mail. Battery must be completely dead.
Then he heard Mr. Jefferies come into the waiting area. Jason was tempted beyond words to tell the man that he had a family emergency and couldn’t see him now. But Steve Jefferies had some serious problems; it would be irresponsible to cancel the appointment.
Stop panicking. Abby was fine. She’d gone to see her dad. Maybe she’d be here by the time Jason was finished with Mr. Jefferies. And maybe Lucy would be back, too. Then Jason could hunt down Bryce and demand some answers.
He took several deep breaths and went to take care of business like the level-headed professional he was supposed to be.
Maggie walked through the front hall and saw Uncle Father with his head stuck in the coat closet. He was making grunting noises, like he was having trouble with something.
“Uncle Father, what are you doing?” She used the same tone that Mrs. White used on Maggie when she thought she was doing something silly.
He jerked his head out of the coats. He looked like she felt when she got caught sneaking cookies before dinner.
“Oh. I thought you were in your room,” he said. “Is Mrs. White here?”
He was breathing hard. His face looked like it really hurt and it made her sad to look at him.
“She went to the grocery store. Do you need help?” she asked.
“I was trying to get the video camera case. The strap is caught on something way back in there. I’m having trouble getting back there with these sore ribs.”
“Uncle Father,” she sighed and shook her head, “I’m supposed to do things like this for you.” She got on her knees and crawled under the coats.
She found where the camera strap was caught on an umbrella and untangled it. When she pulled it out and stood up, Uncle Father had tears on his face.
“It’s okay,” she said, patting his shoulder. “You’ll get better. I don’t mind helping you.”
“I know you don’t.” He smiled, even though he was still crying. “You’re a very good girl.”
“Why do you want the vid
eo camera?” she asked.
“I need to take some video of the church for the insurance company.”
“You’re supposed to be in bed. Do you want me to take the pictures?”
“No, no.” He wiped his face dry. “I need something to do. Lying around is too boring.”
“I know!” Maggie hated not having things to do. Now that Uncle Father was feeling a little better, she wished Abby would call her to work on flowers again.
He said, “Could you carry the bag over to the church for me and get the camera out and ready to record?”
“Sure.” She smiled and picked up the bag. Maybe it was too soon to work with Abby again. Uncle Father did still need her.
As soon as Mr. Jefferies left Jason’s office, he went into the den.
“Did Abby come in?”
Bren looked up from her show. “Nope.” Then she added in a disappointed voice, “Is she coming here?”
“She’s supposed to.” Jason’s nerves were buzzing with worry; this wasn’t the time to address her attitude toward Abby and the future of their family with his daughter. That conversation would take lots of TLC.
He went into the kitchen and called Abby’s father.
“Mr. Whitman, Jason Coble. Is Abby there?”
“Hello, Jason. No, I haven’t seen Abby for a couple of days.”
“If she comes by, would you have her call me?” Jason wondered if the man would remember.
“Sure. I’ll leave a note on the refrigerator, so I won’t forget.”
“Thanks.”
Jason hung up. He looked up the number for Randall and Roberts, then called there.
Jim Roberts answered.
“Hello, Jim, this is Jason Coble. Has Abby dropped off the rest of the flowers for the Robard funeral yet?”
“No. And she’s cutting it pretty close. It’s not like her.”
Jason’s stomach dropped to his knees. “She hasn’t called, either?”
“No.”
“Have her call me when she shows up.” If she shows up.
As he disconnected the call, Jason closed his eyes. Where in the hell was she?
He thought about the text message. Something about it had bothered him when he’d read it, but Bren had arrived and the thought had skittered away.
He brought it up on the screen again.
phone almost dead stopping to c dad c u later
Then he brought up her previous text.
Deputy Bigelow and I are having a party. Wish you were here.
Shit! That second text didn’t sound like Abby sent it.
“Brenna!” Jason called as he hurried into the den. “Shut off the TV, sweetie. We need to go do something.”
“Daaad, it’s almost over.”
“You can finish it when we get back.” Jason shut off the TV himself. “This is an emergency.”
With the word “emergency,” Brenna looked at him with fearful eyes and grabbed her shoes. “What kind of emergency?”
“We need to find your brother.” And Abby. Jason prayed the two were in different places.
“Is he okay?” Brenna asked in a small voice.
Jason stopped and put his hand on the top of her head. “I’m sure he’s fine. He just isn’t where he’s supposed to be.”
“So he’s in trouble.” At least she looked more sad than afraid now.
“Maybe. Now go get in Abby’s Explorer,” he said. “I’ll be right out.”
He watched her from the window as she got in the SUV. Then, just in case, he went to the gun safe and got out his handgun. Then he untucked his shirt and slipped the gun in the back waistband of his pants.
As he grabbed the Explorer’s keys from the kitchen counter where Abby had left them, he called Sergeant Kitterman. The police could comb the roads for Abby much more effectively than Jason could. Jason’s first responsibility was to find Bryce; he just couldn’t turn his son over to the police for vandalism until he talked to him first.
When the Sergeant came on the line, Jason said, “I can’t get a hold of Abby and she didn’t show up at the funeral home after she parted company with your deputy.”
“What’s she driving?” Kitterman asked.
“My car. A silver Nissan Altima.” He gave Kitterman the license plate number. “I spoke to her when she was pulling out onto the road from her lane. That was about twelve-fifty.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Kitterman said and hung up.
When Jason got into the Explorer, he asked Brenna, “Do you know where Bryce likes to hang out? Is he friends with anyone in particular now?”
“He’s all into this comic book stuff. He took me to the comic shop one day after school.”
“The one on Market Street?”
She nodded. “Are you going to yell at him about the iPod?” She looked like she wanted to melt into the seat.
He reached back and patted her on the knee. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe. There’s something else I need to talk to him about.”
“You said it was an emergency,” Brenna said.
“It is. Bryce didn’t go to school today like he was supposed to.”
“I know that. Mom was mad because he was supposed to babysit me after school.”
“And he’s always home when he’s supposed to babysit you. So I want to find him and make sure he’s okay.”
She frowned. “You think he had a wreck or something.”
Jason backed the Explorer out of the drive and muttered, “Or something.”
Jason took his daughter by the hand and led her in to the comic and card shop. It was filled with pimply-faced teenage boys and a few Goth-looking girls. There were two aisles. Bryce wasn’t in either one of them.
Jason went to the register. It was manned by a guy wearing a black T-shirt with skulls on it. He had spiky hair and a goatee. He was too old for the spiky hair and T-shirt by about a decade.
After Jason introduced himself, he asked, “Do you know my stepson, Bryce Patrick?”
The man smiled. “Sure, he’s in here all of the time.”
“Has he been in here today?”
The man’s eyes went narrow and he got busy straightening the comics in the case. “Hey, I don’t get in the middle of family crap.”
“I’m worried. He didn’t come home, and it’s not at all like him.”
The man looked at Jason. “Well, if it’s like that.” He shrugged. “You know how it is, man, parents come in here all of the time trying to make it seem like I’m supposed to keep track of their kids—usin’ me for a babysitter.”
Jason just waited.
“Yeah, Bryce was here earlier. Left with Toby about eleven o’clock.”
“Toby?” Jason didn’t recall any friends named Toby.
“Toby Smith. His grandma lives in town. He and Bryce seem to be tight.”
“His grandma? Toby doesn’t live in Preston?”
The man shook his head. “Visits a lot lately, though.”
“Do you know where his grandma lives?”
The man looked perturbed again. “Dude, you’re pushing your luck. It’s not my job to keep track of every freakin’ one.”
“Hey.” Jason cast a glance at his daughter. “Easy.” Then he asked, “Do you happen to know if they took Bryce’s car? I didn’t see it out there.”
“Well, then I’d say they took Bryce’s car, wouldn’t you?”
Jason decided since he’d already crossed the line, might as well ask one more question. “Do you know what Toby drives?”
The man huffed. “Gray Impala.”
Jason’s breath locked in his lungs. “Dark tinted windows?” Under the circumstances, that Impala had been around Abby too many times to ignore.
“Yeah. Now get outta here, you’re freakin’ out the customers.”
“Does Toby have access to a boat?” Why would he go after Abby? Had he been the one to place the 911 call? Or did it have more to do with Bryce? Dear God, he hoped not.
“How the hell should I know!�
� The man lowered his voice. “Get out.”
Brenna was already tugging on Jason’s hand, trying to drag him to the door.
Once out on the sidewalk, Jason knelt in front of his daughter. I don’t want you to worry. Bryce is probably just off with this friend having fun.”
She nodded solemnly.
“Let’s take a walk around the block.” Jason wanted to see if that gray Impala was parked nearby.
Bren took his hand and walked silently by his side.
They made the circuit. No gray Impala. That gave Jason hope that Bryce and Toby had gone separate ways.
Jason’s cell phone rang.
It was Kitterman. “We found your car about a quarter mile from Abby’s lane.”
“And Abby?” Jason asked, his heart swelling with fear.
“No. It looks like she just pulled to the side of the road. One of the tires is flat. The flowers are still in the backseat. No purse. No sign of struggle.”
“She lost her purse in the fire. She did have a cell. Was it in the car?”
“No.”
“She’s not answering it. Can you use it to locate her?”
“As long as the battery is still in it.”
“I think it’s dead.”
“Doesn’t matter; as long as it’s inside the phone we can locate it. Give me her number.”
Jason recited it, then he heard paper tear and Kitterman tell someone to start locating it.
Jason asked, “Did someone check to make sure she didn’t walk back to the shop? That’d be her nearest phone if her cell’s dead.”
“She’s not there.”
Jason explained his theory that someone other than Abby had sent that last text message. Then he said, “There’s a car that may be involved. I’ve noticed it enough times to make me suspicious. A late model gray Impala with dark-tinted windows. I just found out it belongs to a guy named Toby Smith.”
Jason was so dry that his tongue rasped against the lining of his mouth as he explained how the driver of that gray Impala had befriended his son. He stopped short of saying Bryce had vandalized the cemetery and slit Abby’s tires. He’d give Bryce the chance to turn himself in. Things would go much better for him that way.
Sleep No More Page 25
