Finding Abby: A Romantic Suspense set in the Colorado Mountains (Whispering Pines Mysteries)

by Rhonda Blackhurst

  She flipped the closed sign to open and looked at him. “I hope you’re not coming down with something. Do you feel okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good.” She smiled and walked past him, her flip-flops slapping against her feet with each step, aware of Sam’s presence behind her.

  “What is it, Sam?”

  “Well—” he stammered.

  “What?” she pressed, getting concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? Why don’t you go home and get some rest.”

  “Someone tagged the boathouse again last night. Same place on the backside, same word. Thief. When I went in the boathouse to get the paint to cover it up, it was dumped out. Think Jeremiah could pick some more up today?”

  “Again?” Her brows furrowed as she thought about the movement that had gotten her attention as she stood by the window last night. Apparently, it wasn’t her reflection after all. But something much more disturbing loomed over her. Hunter couldn’t have done this. Holly? Had she come back? Maybe she’d underestimated her and she was retaliating against Abby for making her report herself to the school. She tried to come up with every possibility.

  And then another, even more concerning, thought.

  “Sam, was the boathouse locked?”

  “Yeah. I make extra sure when I leave each day.”

  “Someone broke in then? To get at the paint.”

  “The lock wasn’t broken,” Sam said. “But, Abby, I know I locked it.”

  “I believe you, Sam.” She touched his arm hoping to assure him. “I’ll let my dad know as soon he’s done eating.”

  He began walking out and stopped, turning to look at her. “Ms. S—do you …” His voice trailed off.

  “Do I what?”

  “Well, weird things were happening for a while and now that your ex is behind bars, I thought it would stop.”

  “Me too, Sam,” she said, her voice so quiet she wasn’t sure he could hear it.

  Sam shrugged and walked out the door. “Okay then,” he called over his shoulder.

  Abby took the coffee making equipment apart, giving it a good cleaning, followed up by making herself a latte. She’d just finished steaming the milk when Cooper appeared in the doorway.

  “Hey, Mom. Grandpa’s back with the paint.”

  He no sooner got the words out when Jeremiah came in, setting down two gallons of paint on the counter, along with a handful of flat wooden stir sticks. Sam trotted in and picked up the cans of paint, one in each hand. He looked at Cooper.

  “Hey, buddy. Wanna grab the sticks and give me a hand?”

  Cooper grinned. “Yeah!”

  Abby’s jaw dropped. “Why aren’t you that enthusiastic when I ask you to work?”

  “You never ask me to paint,” he answered as if it were a no-brainer.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Victoria operated the store and Abby followed Sam and Cooper to the boathouse to get a first-hand look. Gabe pulled in and caught up with them, winking at Abby.

  They reached the boathouse and walked around the backside. The only difference was, this time, it was written in black paint.

  “Sam? Do you remember the first time this was done?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Look at the T.”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s exactly the same as last time. The horizontal line is disconnected from the vertical line by about six inches and goes up at the end. The f almost looks cursive both last time and this time.”

  ”What are you thinking, Abby?” Gabe asked.

  “The same person did this both times.”

  “Well, yeah. It would be unlikely different people would do the same exact thing.”

  “What I’m trying to say is that it wasn’t Hunter this time so it wasn’t him the first time, either. That means someone else is being a menace.” She studied the painted word carefully, cocking her head to the side. “What do you suppose they mean by thief, though? It makes no sense.”

  “Just curious, how did Simon and Maggie take it when you took over?” Gabriel asked.

  Abby looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Simon and Maggie? You knew them far better than I did. They would never do this. They loved this place, sure, but they were looking forward to retiring someplace warm, kick back, and enjoy life.”

  “Do you believe that’s what they really wanted?”

  “I do,” she said firmly. “At least I believe Simon did.”

  “Wanna know what I think?”

  “I’m guessing you’re going to tell me whether I want to know or not.” She wrinkled her nose at him, afraid of what he was about to say.

  “You’re right. I am,” he said. “I think maybe we need to take a closer look at Simon and Maggie. It’s the only thing that makes the slightest bit of sense.”

  “Well, I know one thing for certain,” she said, “if this keeps up the paint on this boathouse is going to be six inches thick.”

  After they finished painting, Sam went to get the lawnmower and Cooper wandered into the store.

  “Hey, Madre,” he said, “when are you going to take me to get the rest of my stuff for school?”

  “Madre?” she asked, laughing. “Where did you learn that?”

  “Sam.” He grinned. “I need the rest of my stuff. Can we go now?”

  “Now? I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “I’ve got it covered here,” Victoria said.

  “If you’re sure,” Abby said. “I guess time is running out, isn’t it?”

  Without a moment of hesitation, Abby and Cooper left for town to get the rest of his school supplies. Three hours later, they loaded their purchases—two pair of jeans, skater shoes, a few T-shirts, socks and underwear—into the trunk.

  Abby reached up to close the trunk and stopped. “Hey, Coop, isn’t that Stewart’s car over there?”

  Cooper crawled out of the back seat and went around to his mother, watching as she slammed the trunk closed. “Where?”

  “Over there.” She pointed to her right. “The blue one.”

  “Looks like it. Cool! Wonder what he’s doing here?”

  “Probably shopping since it’s a shopping center.” She laughed at her own humor, but one look at Cooper quickly let her know it was anything but funny. “Well, I thought it was funny,” she mumbled.

  “Good thing someone did.”

  “Cooper Sinclair!” She said, laughing. “Be nice to your mother.” She saw him try to conceal a smile.

  “Mom, are you going to change your last name back to Grandpa’s?”

  She frowned in surprise. “Why would I do that?”

  “You hate Hunter. Why would you want his last name?”

  “Hunter?” she asked, amused. “Since when do you call your father by his first name?” The name sounded odd coming from his lips. Like it was a word she’d never heard before.

  “Since I decided he’s not my dad anymore.”

  “Huh. That’s a pretty big decision.” She waited a moment to see if he would say anything else. That was a big decision for a ten-year-old kid. But he said nothing more. Crickets. “It’s your last name too. I want to keep mine the same as yours.”

  “I could change mine to Grandpa’s too.”

  They each got in the car, Cooper slamming his door so hard she thought the car would shake apart.

  “Johnny and his dad don’t have the same last name,” he said.

  “They don’t?” She realized she didn’t even know his dad’s last name.

  “Nope.”

  “What is his dad’s last name? And why doesn’t Johnny have the same one?”

  “I dunno.”

  His tone was her cue to drop it. She would for now. But she would make a point of revisiting it another time.

  When they pulled into the driveway and drove down the hill to the house, Cooper’s phone started its ring tone. He looked at the screen.

  “It’s Johnny. Can he come back over?”

  “Wha
t the heck? Does he have surveillance on us or what?”

  He put the phone up to his ear. “Just a minute.” He looked at his mom. “Can he?”

  “Yeah, why not. But I’m going to need the two of you to do some work around here, so it’s not going to be all play.”

  “Mom, it’s the last weekend before school.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Cooper. It’s either that or not at all.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled before putting the phone back up to his ear.

  Abby got out of the car, leaving him alone to complain to Johnny about how mean she was.

  “Where’s the kid?” Jeremiah asked as soon as she walked in the door.

  “In the car.”

  “Doing what?”

  “He’s talking on the phone.”

  “Johnny?”

  “Yup. He’s staying over tonight.”

  “Hope he knows how lucky he is.”

  Abby half laughed. “Not so much. He thinks I’m being pretty mean right now, because I told him they have to do some work around here and can’t spend all day playing.”

  “Isn’t that against child labor laws?”

  “After the fit Johnny’s grandmother threw, I’m surprised she even lets him come over anymore. I’m just glad Cooper doesn’t want to go over to Johnny’s because it would be a giant no! Then he’d think I’m really mean.”

  32

  Saturday evening Abby and Gabriel were inside by the fireplace, Abby sipping a cup of tea, Gabriel a glass of sauvignon blanc.

  “Why do friendships have to be so hard?” Abby said quietly as she stared into the fire, her head resting on Gabriel’s shoulder.

  “Thinking about Holly?”

  “Yeah.” She looked up at him.

  “They’re not supposed to be. When they get that way, it means something isn’t right,” he answered gently, the flames dancing in his eyes. “Besides, it’s not possible to have a healthy friendship with a toxic person. Holly is toxic.”

  “I just can’t believe I never saw it before now. I mean, when we worked together, she was part of my sanity there.”

  “Well that’s a scary thought,” he teased, reaching out to hold her hand. “Babe, people don’t always let you see what they don’t want you to. I think Holly was so busy being jealous of you and your life that she would have done anything to have it.”

  She shuddered. “That’s creepy. Thank you for offering to take Cooper to go pick up Johnny. It worked out better that he couldn’t come until this evening.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Gave us a little time to spend together. Alone. Without boys running in and out.” She rested her head on his shoulder again.

  “Well? As much as I love our time together, what time is Cooper planning on coming down here so we can go get Johnny? It’s getting late. Cooper!” His voice boomed, making Abby jump. “Ready to go? By the time you guys get back here it’ll be time for bed!”

  “We’re not planning on sleeping tonight,” he yelled back downstairs. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “He’s definitely a ten-year-old. There’s everyone else’s time, and then there’s his time. And just think, when he gets in his teens, it will be worse yet.”

  Abby laughed softly. “You sure you’re up for that?”

  “Not only am I up for it,” he said, lifting her hair and nuzzling the back of her neck, making her squirm, “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Abby giggled until he stopped. “You don’t mind taking him?”

  “Of course not. Cooper,” he called again, “enough primping. Let’s go already. It’s not Victoria that’s coming over, it’s Johnny.”

  “Haha! Very funny,” he retorted, bounding down the stairs two at a time. He gave his mom a hug and headed for the door, walking right on out, letting it slam behind him. “Come on!” he yelled back toward Gabriel.

  He looked at Abby and winked. “That kid.”

  Cooper ran back in the house and up the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back. I forgot something.”

  “I’ll be in the car waiting.” Gabe shook his head and walked out the door.

  After they finally left, Abby cozied up in front of the fireplace for a bit longer. It was eight-thirty and her dad had just closed the store and headed upstairs to watch some television in his room. He liked watching TV upstairs so he could watch his westerns and not worry about the sound being too loud. “Nothing like watching a shoot ’em up scene with the sound blaring,” he’d told her.

  She settled into the cushions, pulling her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her empty white ceramic teacup sat on the coffee table in front of her. She leaned back, resting her head against the cushion. She yanked on the handle along the side of the couch, causing it to recline. She stretched her legs out and hugged a pillow to her chest. She closed her eyes, letting thoughts of the summer tumble through her mind.

  A knock on the kitchen door, followed by the doorbell startled her. She looked at her watch, shocked to see a half hour had passed. Either she’d drifted off or she’d been so lost in her thoughts she had lost track of time.

  She looked around for some sign that the boys and Gabe were back. Nothing. She turned the corner into the kitchen and saw Stewart looking in at her from the other side of the door’s windowpane.

  She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping back to let him inside.

  “I wasn’t aware you were coming this weekend.” She couldn’t remember him having a reservation.

  “Oh, I wasn’t. I just realized I forgot to sign the check I wrote when I stopped to settle up my account. Do you want me to sign that one or write a new one?”

  “Let me check the safe. It’s probably still in there. You can just sign that one.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “Pops is upstairs watching a movie and Gabe took Cooper to go pick up Johnny.”

  “Oh. Well, if you don’t mind getting that check. I’m kind of in a hurry.”

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.” She walked through the living room, unlocked the door to the store, flipped the light switch, and knelt down by the floor safe.

  She pulled out the deposit bag, stood and unzipped the bag. She took out the bills and checks and began scanning through the checks looking for Stewart’s.

  “Aha! Here it is,” she called over her shoulder “You’re right, there’s no signa—” Suddenly the room started spinning as she stared at the face of the check. The T on the word Two. She’d seen that same letter, exactly, as a matter of fact, all too recently.

  “Problem?”

  She screamed when she heard his voice behind her. She felt her face grow hot, her breath shallow.

  She backed up, check in hand. “Do you think you could write an f for me?”

  “I think we both know that’s not necessary, don’t we, Abby?”

  He walked slowly toward her as she continued to take slow steps backward until she couldn’t move anymore. She was up against a wall. Literally.

  “You don’t look so good, Abby. What’s the problem?” His voice taunted her.

  “Don’t insult me. You know what the problem is.” The spinning was finally slowing down, the room righting itself back up again. “But why? I’ve done nothing to you.”

  “No?” He asked incredulously. “You’ve done nothing to me?”

  He took another step toward her, his shoe clicking on the floor reminding her of Hunter’s gun. Her legs felt rubbery.

  “What about taking something that belongs to me.”

  Thief. Her mind traveled at record speed trying to figure out what he was talking about. “I don’t know—”

  He stepped forward again. Instinct kicked in and a split second later Abby jumped over the counter and bolted toward the door. She cursed the lock and got out in the nick of time, Stewart on her heels. She stopped on the other side of a car, rubbing her shin she’d hit on the bumper.

  “Stay there, Stewart, or—or�
��”

  “Or what?” He said, his eyes glinting in the yard light. “This resort should be mine, Abby. Mine and my boy’s. You just swept in and took what was supposed to be mine.”

  “You’ve said that! What are you talking about?” she yelled. “Why should the resort be yours, Stewart? Why should you—”

  “Because Henry was my grandfather.”

  She hadn’t pegged Stewart as someone who was delusional. But with Hunter and Holly, her track record wasn’t great.

  “Your grandfather?” Buy time, Abby. Buy time. Gabriel will be back soon.

  “Yes, my grandfather. Good old Grandpa left me out of the will.” He chuckled evilly and cocked his head to the side, looking as though he’d allowed his mind to travel to another time. “Of course, in his defense, he didn’t know I existed.” He suddenly snapped back to the present. “My dad knocked up a girl when they were seventeen. I was tossed away like yesterday’s garbage. Ended up in the foster care system. Know what that’s like Abby? Growing up in the foster system? Of course, you don’t. Because you have everything handed to you,” he said, his voice loud, angry.

  “That’s why you wrote thief on the boathouse.”

  “Well, aren’t you a genius.”

  “Locking me in the boathouse and Cooper in the cellar?”

  “A piece of cake. Everyone was busy taking shelter from the storm. They didn’t notice me at all.”

  “Gabe’s camper?”

  “Yup. Easy. People have seen enough of me around here to not give it another thought.”

  She swallowed hard. “Gus?”

  “Ding! Ding! Ding! Yup again!”He grinned evilly. Hey, you’re pretty good at this game. Let’s play some more.”

  Stewart walked toward the rear of the car and Abby inched toward the front, keeping distance between them.

  “Don’t think you can get away from me, Abby. You said yourself no one is home except your Pops who’s watching movies in his room. That television is so loud he wouldn’t be able to hear you scream even if you did.”

  Stewart made a dash around the car and Abby ran for the door, her shin throbbing, until she stopped at the sound of a gunshot.

  “Don’t bet on it, Stewart,” Jeremiah drawled. A daddy can hear his little girl from the other side of the world.”