Sleep No More

by Susan Crandall

  “Do you think it’s more than coincidence that he’s hanging out with your kid?” Kitterman asked.

  “I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  “Neither do I,” Kitterman said. “I’ll get this info out to our patrols. And I’ll see if I can find anything on Toby Smith. Have any idea what he looks like?”

  “No. But you can ask the owner at Hi Flying Comics in Preston. Toby hangs out there.” Jason was certain that the police would have better luck getting information out of the owner than he could.

  He almost asked Kitterman to have the patrols keep an eye out for Bryce’s car. But he wanted to check all of his friends’ houses and their hangouts before he got the police involved in locating his son. Besides, he didn’t want the police to divide their attention from finding Abby.

  “All right,” Kitterman said. “I’ll keep you posted—hang on.”

  There were muffled voices, as if Kitterman had covered the mouthpiece with his hand. When he spoke to Jason again, he said, “The battery must be out of her phone. We can’t locate it.”

  Jason closed his eyes and sent a rare prayer to heaven for Abby’s safety.

  What had seemed like a really good idea a few hours ago didn’t look so great now that Bryce had Abby unconscious in his back seat, her hands bound behind her with duct tape. What had sounded like a logical plan to fix more than one problem, now felt more like he’d started an avalanche.

  Why hadn’t he thought this through more completely? What if he scared the crap out of her and she told anyway? Then both he and his mom were in deep shit.

  He beat his palms against the steering wheel. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Tears burned his eyes. He sniffed and refused to cry. That only backed them up in his chest until he felt he’d choke on them.

  Get a grip!

  It was done. He couldn’t undo it. God! He should have gone with his instincts and made certain she hadn’t seen him. It would have been harder to do, but then he could just dump her somewhere and no one would ever know.

  He kept driving around country roads, afraid to take the next, now necessary, step.

  His cell rang. Shit, it was probably his dad again.

  It wasn’t.

  “Where the hell are you?” Toby sounded pissed. “Something go wrong?”

  “No.”

  “Then why aren’t you here yet?”

  “I don’t know, man.” He ducked his head and swiped the sweat from his forehead on his T-shirt sleeve. “I just don’t think we should do this. It was a bad idea.”

  “Too-fucking-late. There’s no going back now. Get your ass here, before the cops find you.”

  Bryce shot a look at his back seat. How long would the chloroform Toby had given him to use keep her out?

  Toby was right. How would he explain if the cops stopped him?

  All he could do now was hope the plan worked.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Jason called Bryce again, not expecting him to answer. He regretted sending that text message. It might only serve to delay Bryce’s response since he now knew he was in trouble.

  Jason drove past all of Bryce’s friends’ houses, the park and Jeter’s arcade. His son’s car wasn’t at any of those places. He decided to head out to Abby’s. Maybe he could find a clue the police had missed—or maybe Bryce was out there breaking windows. Either was a long shot, but it beat the hell out of sitting still doing nothing.

  As he drove past Randall and Roberts, he saw Lucy standing on the side street, talking to a man in a suit. Jason circled around the block. He had to double-park and put on his flashers because the streets were so packed with cars calling on the Robard family. He felt more comfortable leaving Brenna in the car on this little traveled side street for a couple of minutes than letting her hear what he was about to say to her mother.

  When he got out, he realized the man Lucy was with was Senator Robard.

  From the immediate guilty looks on both Lucy and the senator, it didn’t take a nuclear physicist to figure out there was something going on between them. Apparently that was one accusation Jessica Robard had right.

  Jason now understood at least one of the secrets that had been making Lucy act strangely of late. He hoped this was the only one. And he hoped there would be no fallout from this poor judgment that would affect the children.

  The senator made a quick comment to Lucy, then disappeared back into the funeral home.

  “What are you doing here?” Lucy snapped. It was clear she’d been crying.

  “Jesus, Lucy, really? You dropped off our daughter at the curb, without even making certain I was available, so you could hook up with the senator at his dead son’s viewing?”

  She sniffed and turned her back on him. “You don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure I do. And so will anyone who got a look at you two out here.”

  She looked at him with venom in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to see me anymore—just because he’s feeling guilty because he was with me when Kyle had his accident. I have to make him see—”

  “I thought I made myself perfectly clear.” Jason didn’t have time for Lucy’s drama; he’d stopped to deal with an issue. “When you drop Bren off, either you walk her in, or call me to come out and get her.”

  “If you’re so worried about perverts, maybe you should move your office out of the house.”

  Jason referred all pedophiles and sexual deviants—not that there were many seeking help in little buttoned-up Preston—to another doctor who specialized. Lucy knew that. But he didn’t take the bait.

  “If you ever pull a stunt like this again—”

  “What? What are you going to threaten me with now? Jesus, you treat me like I’m a twelve-year-old!” she snapped.

  Twelve-year-old was about right, but that wasn’t his current argument. “This isn’t about you and me. It’s about keeping Brenna safe. Now I’m going to get her out of the car and you’re going to behave like a responsible mother and take her home.”

  “Bryce was supposed to be home to watch her—”

  “Yeah, about that,” Jason said. “Do you have any idea where he is?”

  Her gaze shifted away. “He’s an adult.”

  “He’s a boy who needs to know his parents give a shit where he is and what he’s doing.”

  Her head snapped up. “Well, you are not his parent.”

  He literally bit his tongue to keep words that would only inflame the situation inside his mouth. “Listen, I have to go. Will you take Brenna?”

  “Of course. Stop making it sound like I abandoned her.”

  Jason knew he was partly to blame for the derailing of this conversation. “Okay… all right.” He went to the Explorer and opened the rear passenger door. “Come on, Peanut. You’re going home with Mommy now.”

  Although he’d shielded her from hearing the argument, her serious eyes said she was well aware it had transpired. He felt like a heel.

  Before he left her at Lucy’s side, he hugged her. “Everything is okay, sweetie.”

  “Love you, Daddy.”

  “You, too.” Then he said to Lucy. “If you hear from Bryce, have him call me.”

  She turned and walked away without another word. Bren followed solemnly behind. He watched until they got into Lucy’s car before he turned for the Explorer.

  He’d almost shared his fears about Bryce with Lucy. He wanted her to know Bryce’s sudden shift to deviousness and irresponsibility was serious. At the same time he feared that if she knew, she would do whatever she could to help Bryce cover his tracks. God knew, Bryce had done it often enough for her.

  Just as Jason was heading back to the Explorer, he heard a girl call, “Dr. Coble! Dr. Coble!”

  He looked up and saw Maggie on the porch of the rectory. “Wait, Dr. Coble!” She sounded panicked.

  Maybe she knew something about Abby.

  Jason trotted across the street. They met on the
sidewalk at the bottom of the rectory steps. She was holding a video camera.

  “What is it, Maggie? What’s wrong?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to look at the video. Uncle Father told me it wasn’t finished and put it on his desk at home. I just wanted to see the pictures of the church, I promise, that’s all I wanted to do.” Maggie was talking so fast her words slurred together.

  “Whoa, slow down. Why are you so upset?”

  Her blue eyes widened. “I saw this—and I didn’t know what to do. I prayed to St. Jude—and he sent you! He answered my prayers.”

  “Why did you need to pray to St. Jude?”

  “This!” She held up the small video camera. “Uncle Father… he… he’s dying!”

  Bryce got out of his car in front of the old tin-roofed fishing shack where Jason had taught him how to gut and clean a fish. It was in the woods by the river—far enough from the road that they could leave Abby here and no one would happen across her.

  “Put up a fight, did she?” Toby asked, eyeing the scratches on Bryce’s face and arms.

  “You said it would knock her out right away.”

  “Did I? Maybe I was wrong.”

  “Damn right you were wrong.” None of this was going according to plan. “I wish we hadn’t started this.”

  “Man, I’m hanging my ass out for you,” Toby said as he walked to the passenger side of the car. “It’s your mom we’re protecting. You want her to go to jail?”

  “No, but, if the hypnosis didn’t make Abby remember, maybe she won’t ever—”

  “You told me that your dad said she remembered taillights. Sounds to me like it’s already started. Do you want to wake up every day for the rest of your life thinking that this will be the day they come and haul your mom off to jail? Besides, this fixes two of your problems at once. She won’t tell on your mom for killing the senator’s kid and she’ll stop screwing your dad.”

  Bryce regretted ever confiding in Toby. If Bryce had kept his worries to himself, he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Toby said, opening the rear passenger door. “We need a more permanent solution.”

  “Permanent?” Bryce opened the driver’s side rear door. Abby was on her side, her wrists duct-taped together. Her hair covered her face.

  “Yeah, like as in for eternity,” Toby said.

  The plan was to let her know they meant business, maybe threaten to hurt her dad, make sure she was too frightened to ever tell and “persuade” her to stop seeing Bryce’s dad. Stupid as it sounded now, it had seemed logical when Toby had laid it out.

  Bryce looked at Toby, trying to figure out if he was serious. Toby was an excellent bullshitter, loved to yank your chain.

  “Nah,” Bryce said. “Stick to the plan.”

  “No, dude. Can’t you see? This is way better.”

  “I was on board for scaring her,” Bryce said, wondering at what point he actually thought he had control of this situation. “Not… that.”

  Toby took a look at Abby’s bound hands. “Aww, Jesus, is that the best you could do? Cross the wrists, man, don’t tape them side by side.”

  “She’s out. What does it matter?” Bryce said, almost wishing she’d awakened and gotten free before they got here. “We’re sticking to what we’d planned.”

  “Shut up and grab her feet,” Toby said.

  Bryce’s heart was beating too fast and he was getting lightheaded. “You’re shittin’ me.” Toby had to be messing with him, seeing how far he could bluff Bryce into going.

  Toby looked him in the eye. “No man. This is the only way.”

  He looked dead serious.

  Bryce had had enough. He put his hands on his hips. “Why do you care what we do with her? She didn’t see you, you can walk.”

  “Because you’re my friend, man. And this bitch is fucking up your life.”

  “We stick to the original plan,” Bryce said firmly, his heart’s erratic beats pounding in his ears. Once he showed Toby he couldn’t be pushed, maybe he’d stop this ridiculous game. “She’s my problem. I decide what happens to her.”

  Toby shook his head, as if Bryce was missing the entire point. “Why put a plug in the dam when you can drain the whole lake? This will take care of everything for good.”

  Bryce pressed his lips together and shook his head, too afraid that if he opened his mouth, his voice would show him for the frightened kid he was.

  “Did you get the gun from the glove box of your dad’s car?” Toby asked.

  “It wasn’t there.” Thank God. Now maybe Toby would shut up about killing her.

  Toby gave Bryce a soulless grin that made him want to puke, and pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket. “Then we’ll have to improvise.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Maggie’s face was streaked with tears. She tugged on Jason’s arm, bobbing up and down a little as she held the video camera in front of his face. “I don’t want Uncle Father to die! You have to do something!”

  “Hold on, Maggie,” Jason said. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know! I can’t find him.”

  “What makes you think he’s dying?”

  “This!” She shook the video camera. “He said it.”

  Jason needed to get moving. Find Bryce. Find Abby.

  “Where’s Mrs. White?”

  “Shopping. I was supposed to be babysitting Uncle Father and I lost him. He was supposed to be taking pictures of the church. But he wasn’t—” She flipped open the little screen and pushed a button. “Look!”

  Jason and Maggie stood in the afternoon shadow of the rectory so Jason could see the screen, at least a little. The picture was dark. He squinted and leaned close, shielding the screen from as much light as he could. It was Father Kevin. It looked like he was in… a confessional.

  “Let’s go inside where I can see this better,” he said.

  Maggie immediately started up the steps, pulling him along with her. “We have to hurry.”

  Once inside, Jason took the camera from her and hit play.

  The sound was low. He turned it up.

  “With my death, I am committing myself to eternal damnation. I do it of my own free will, a sacrifice that must be made. I see no other way than to embark on the path I now take. Once I am dead, both my beloved Maggie and my sister’s life’s work will be saved.”

  Maggie said, “See. He’s dying!”

  Jason shushed her, feeling his entire world was spinning out of control. What in the hell else could happen today? “Hold on, we need to listen.” He rewound the video and listened to what he’d missed.

  “A few months ago I discovered gross misuse of funds and illegal transportation of goods in the organization, Children of Conflict, of which I am director. Using the face of Christian charity, this money has gone against everything Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior stands for.

  “Through murder and intimidation, threats and blackmail, they have taken control of our organization. I am certain the helicopter crash which claimed my sister and her husband’s lives in Afghanistan was no accident. Unfortunately, I have no proof. God will sit in judgment on those who are responsible.

  “But I do have proof that COC has been diverted from its Christly work. All proof, including a letter from my sister written before her death, is being held by a person of my choosing, who will upon my death deliver it to the authorities. That threat of exposure is the only thing that has kept me alive this long. They have demanded I turn the papers over, or they will take my dear Maggie from me. They feel assured that as an ordained priest, I will not take my own life. They underestimate my commitment against the vileness of their purpose. I have decided I would rather commit my soul to eternal damnation than be a party to their evil deeds.

  “Someone has been sent to intimidate and manipulate me.” He absently touched his swollen face and Jason knew the priest’s injuries were not caused by a fall down concrete steps. “I would gladly give my life, but cannot sacr
ifice my beloved niece. And now the poison is spreading—and I am responsible.”

  At this point Father Kevin closed his eyes—actually one eye, as the other was still swollen closed—and took a deep breath. That breath set off a coughing spell that was so clearly painful that Jason winced.”

  “In a moment of confusion and desperation I was too weak to do what I know must be done; that night I put my death in the hands of God. I am ashamed to say that the life that was taken was not my own, but that of Kyle Robard, an innocent. I called for help, but I’d been followed and was forced to leave the scene. These people have gone to a lot of time and trouble to establish their system. They are not about to let my conscience get in the way.

  “Now Abby Whitman’s life is in danger because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. At first I thought she was keeping my secret voluntarily, but now know differently. I have to end this.”

  At this point, Father Kevin made the sign of the cross and began: “O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you—”

  Jason stopped the video with his heart beating violently in his chest. Father Kevin was sick all right, sick at heart.

  COC served children in war-torn countries—Afghanistan, Northern Africa—hotbeds of terrorism and illegal arms trade. Who knew what kind of things Father Kevin’s organization was being used for.

  And if the priest was responsible for Kyle Robard’s death, well, that had pushed him completely over the edge.

  Father Kevin’s car was white. Taillights… Abby saw taillights. She must have come upon it while Father Kevin was still there. That’s why he’d made that pleading call for her not to tell.

  But there was no way that Father Kevin broke into Abby’s house and left that message on the mirror.

  … now I know differently. Father Kevin knew who had been threatening Abby. If he could find Father Kevin…