An Eggshell Present: An Abishag’s Fourth Mystery (Abishag Mysteries Book 4)

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An Eggshell Present: An Abishag’s Fourth Mystery (Abishag Mysteries Book 4) Page 9

by Michelle Knowlden


  I knew what he meant. “Blame you? She’d never believe it. No worries. She’ll be so pleased that you’re recovering, she’ll get over her disappointment in me.”

  Because I could not stop myself, I kissed him again but he was already asleep. “G’night, Sebastian.”

  In the hallway, Tina looked less angry than confused. Further down the hall, Luke was on his cell phone. Kat said carefully, her eyes full of warnings, “We’ve been telling Miss Crowder about Sebastian waking last week, but that his status is still uncertain.”

  Tina turned to me. “He’s been talking, they say…”

  Kat cut in. “But he was not entirely making sense which can sometime happen with the comatose. It doesn’t entirely constitute a recovery.”

  Kat was a hero for trying to cover for me.

  “I’m sorry for not telling you, Tina,” I said. “These ‘awakenings’ can be like Kat, Kathmandu, said—random synapses firing.” I didn’t say anything about the guarded optimism of the doctors or that in the last few days, he had been making sense.

  “He was supposed to die at home when it was his time.” She sounded fretful.

  I squeezed her hand. “The hospice aide felt it was not yet his time, Tina. Neither did I.”

  She exhaled. “What’s done is done. Please consult with me in the future, Leslie. His family should be making these decisions, not an Abishag wife.”

  She was right, but her words still stung. I ducked my head. “Of course. Do you want me with you tomorrow when the doctor gives the test results?”

  “I’ll talk to Duarte and my daughter-in-law tonight and let you know,” she said abruptly.

  I bit my lip. “Kat and I will go home…return to the townhouse till we hear from you. Good night, Tina.”

  She nodded and swept down the hall, not acknowledging Kat’s mumbled, “Good night, Miss Crowder.” She passed Luke without speaking to him either.

  After she turned the corner, I exhaled in relief. “That went better than I expected.”

  “She treated you like rubbish,” Kat growled.

  “I deserved it. That’s her son. I should have called her.”

  “That’s what I told you, but now I’m not so sure.”

  I couldn’t prevent myself from grinning. “Sebastian didn’t want to tell her. He just told me so. Said she could be difficult.”

  Kat linked her arm with mine. “He said that? Sounds like he’s better.”

  “What time is it?”

  Kat checked her cell. “3:30. Wow, feels later.”

  I nodded, but my gaze strayed to Luke heading for us.

  “Sorry, had to take that call,” he said. “Everything okay with Miss Crowder?”

  “We won’t know till after she talks to her oldest son,” I said.

  Kat snickered.

  I hadn’t meant to be funny, but Tina often had to be told how she felt. In the past, she had looked to me to react agreeably or anxiously or sadly. Today she hadn’t taken any cues from me, probably because she no longer trusted me. I was afraid of what Duarte might tell her. He had a negative view in general and disapproved of me in particular.

  No two brothers were more different than Sebastian and Duarte.

  I added, “She’ll call me tonight.”

  Luke’s phone buzzed again. Absently, he squeezed my hand. “I should take this. See you tomorrow.” He moved away before I could answer, but flicked me with his perfunctory professional smile as he passed.

  I gnawed a thumbnail and looked at the emergency room where Sebastian lay out-of-sight.

  Kat nudged me. “You’ll see him soon enough, Les. You need to get some sleep, and then we’ll have goulash with Dog.”

  That reminded me. Dog and Sebastian had a secret. Something they’d kept from Kat and me. Yeah, I’d take a nap when I got home, but Dog wouldn’t get any rest till he told me everything.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  At the townhouse, we found the grocery bag near the front door where she’d dropped it. The soy meat was still half frozen and the sour cream for Dog looked okay, too. The mushrooms did not.

  “They should be wild mushrooms anyway.” Kat glared fretfully at the ones that had turned an unhealthy dark gray. “I’m calling our landlord.”

  She meant Professor Stegner, the landlord of the house where we’d lived while at college. We’d moved the last of our belongings late July and received half of our security deposit back. In their second year there, Kat and Stanley had been experimenting with various chemicals, leaving unsightly consequences to the kitchen counter and the laundry room floor. Their experiments did yield an excellent solvent for six different corrosive acids.

  I raised an eyebrow. “The professor has wild mushrooms?” Maybe I’d eat Captain Crunch instead of the goulash.

  “He’s a big believer in foraging for ‘em. I’ll call him and leave a note for you if I go.”

  I nodded. Suddenly aware that I’d had little sleep in the last 20 hours, I said, “Don’t wake me till you need me.” I headed for Sebastian’s old room upstairs.

  Then, of course, I couldn’t sleep. Worry about Tina’s reaction and worry about Sebastian alone in the hospital kept me awake. After I heard Kat head for the loft, I reached under the bed for the eggshell present. I stared at the rainbow shell. Gently, I tapped the engagement ring and watched it swing in the eggshell. For the twentieth time, I wondered how Sebastian planned asking me to marry him.

  I tucked the resin mountain under the bed again and peeked out my door. Kat was asleep in the loft. Maybe the professor had no mushrooms, which would be a relief. Or maybe he couldn’t meet with her till later. His illegal activities kept him busy.

  Sneaking down to the study, I slipped into the hospital bed I’d shared with Sebastian. His indentations marked the bed, and the sheets smelled of him. And though it had never been a place for me to rest, I slept deeply.

  Hours later, I woke groggy. Backlit by the hallway light, Kat stood in the doorway.

  “Les?”

  “What?” I mumbled.

  “Tina’s on the landline.”

  That woke me up fast.

  I’d hardly said hello, when Tina spoke in a rush. “Duarte and I talked, and we’re entirely in agreement. Tomorrow, Monday morning, I’ll be calling the Abishag agency to cancel your contract and dissolve the marriage. Duarte will contact our lawyer. We appreciate your service to Sebastian, but we’ll handle his medical needs now. Please vacate the townhouse tomorrow, as soon as possible. It would be best if you and the Kovics were gone before Sebastian returns.”

  ***

  Kat looked stricken after I hung up the phone and told her what Sebastian’s family had decided for him. Strangely, I felt calm. I think I hadn’t been able to sleep earlier because subconsciously I knew it would happen—Sebastian would be taken from me. There would be no happily-ever-after.

  Because I couldn’t bear her grief, I went to the kitchen, cinched the belt on my robe, and started the coffee maker.

  She stood behind me. I could almost hear her wringing her hands. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m calling the agency now. Tina probably forgot that they have a hotline.”

  “Can they stop her from canceling the contract?” I heard a thread of hope in her voice.

  I stopped watching the trickle of coffee slowly filling the pot and spared her a sympathetic look before I shook my head. “It’s all about the family and the money they bring, Kat. When their lawyer calls, it’ll be about paying the final bill and what, if any, settlement would be expected.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Maybe Sebastian will protest.”

  “Maybe.” I didn’t believe that would happen.

  “Don’t you care?”

  Her words stung, but my Abishag serenity didn’t fail me. “After I call the agency, I’ll call Connor. I don’t exactly trust that Tina and Duarte will take care of Sebastian, especially long term. Connor will.”

  My voice trembled at the end. When Kat reached for
me, I moved to the cabinets and pulled out a coffee cup.

  “This isn’t what Sebastian would want, Les,” she said.

  The image of the rainbow eggshell with the engagement ring flitted through my thoughts till I squashed it. I filled the coffee cup, wondering if it would be the last time I’d drink coffee in the townhouse.

  “It’s the way it is. His family has power of attorney. No doctor will say Sebastian can make his own decisions with the amount of brain damage he’s suffered.”

  With the coffee cup in hand, I headed for the shower.

  “I can’t believe you’re giving up,” she said with despair.

  My Abishag stone face slipped. “If you have a better idea,” I said fiercely, “let me know.” I stomped to the bathroom, dribbling coffee down the hall.

  After my shower, a very long one, I found the townhouse deserted, but smelling of stewed tomatoes and sweet paprika. Kat left a note saying she was meeting with Professor Stegner. I guess he did have some wild mushrooms.

  I left a message on the Westwood Abishag Agency hotline, and a clerk returned my call fifteen minutes later. I knew by his questions that he didn’t quite know how to direct my call. On the wedding night with my first Abishag husband, I had found a dead body in the kitchen and didn’t know who to call at the agency. In this situation, there was only one answer. I needed to talk to Florence Harcourt.

  By the time she called me back thirty minutes later, I had packed my things from the downstairs bedroom. Only what I’d wear tomorrow hung in the closet.

  Her stern voice didn’t fill me with trepidation, only relief. She made me go through all that had happened in the past two weeks—from Sebastian’s awakening to his seizure to Tina’s call.

  “Thank you, Leslie. You’ve summarized the events concisely. I will let our attorneys know how events have changed and prepare myself for Miss Crowder’s call tomorrow.”

  “The marriage license will be revoked?”

  “We’ll see.” Her voice had steely determination. “I’m not entirely sure we can salvage the marriage or the contract, but perhaps we can delay the dissolution.”

  I felt a stirring of hope, which just as quickly died when she added, “Although I’ll suggest you stay on, I believe we should acquiesce to the family taking over for present. You left the boy’s mother unaware of the changes in his situation, and she is understandably angry.”

  “Yes.” Knowing that Sebastian agreed with me about not telling Tina, I only felt wretched for having been found out.

  “That being said, Leslie, you and I also have past experience with Miss Crowder. I believe she will quickly weary of caring for her son.”

  My hand tightened on the phone.

  “My first concern is and will always be for the reputation of the agency. If she does retain our service but does not wish to retain you, I will offer her another Abishag wife.”

  My stomach clenched, thinking about Sebastian with another Abishag. I managed to say, “I understand.”

  After ending the call, I threw myself on the couch. Thomas’s mantel clock ticked behind me, reminding me of feeling Sebastian’s heartbeat against my face. After a few minutes, I checked the time. Nearly nine. Dog would be home soon.

  Which reminded me …

  I picked up my phone again, found the card given to me earlier today, and dialed the number.

  “Yes?” He sounded as if he was sitting in a car, a siren wailing not far away.

  “Connor? It’s Leslie.”

  “Mrs. Crowder, how is Sebastian?”

  “Sleeping when I left him.” I took a deep breath. “I thought you should know that Miss Crowder may be making different arrangements when Sebastian returns home. She’ll talk to the Abishag agency tomorrow, possibly terminating my contract. I’m not sure how that affects her contract with your hospice agency, but I thought I should call.”

  “Thank you for letting me know.” There was a crispness to his voice that hadn’t been there before. In judgment of me? Distancing himself from an Abishag cast-off?

  Wrapping myself in the dignity of Sebastian’s Abishag wife for at least a minute longer, I said, “I appreciate all you did for my husband. Thank you. Please take care of him.”

  I think he said something, but I hung up before I started crying.

  By the time I heard the front door open, I had packed my things in the upstairs bedroom, leaving only sheets to be stripped for the laundry and my things in the bathroom. And 95 eggshell presents lining bedrooms, the sitting room, and shelves in the study. And the 96th eggshell present under the bed upstairs.

  “Anyone home?”

  At the familiar voice, I hung over the railing in the loft. “Dog. I’ll be down in minute.”

  At the last minute, I stuffed the eggshell present with the engagement ring into an old backpack of Sebastian’s and slung it over my shoulder.

  Dog waited till I dropped it on the couch and enveloped me in a hug. “Kat told me. You okay?”

  “No.” My voice was muffled against his broad chest.

  “Where’s Kat?”

  I wiggled from his arms and wiped my eyes. “She needed mushrooms for the goulash so she went to see Professor Stegner.”

  His face lit up, and he took an appreciative sniff. “I thought I smelled Kat’s goulash.”

  I heard my Soul parking in front of the townhouse. “Sounds like she’s home now.” Then reminded myself that I should stop calling Sebastian’s townhouse home as I headed for the kitchen. “I’ll set the table.”

  I didn’t want to watch them greet each other, reminding me again of my loss. As if to spare me, Dog quietly left the house to meet Kat in the driveway.

  I dumped a bagged salad into a bowl and put it on the table with bottled dressing. Sitting at the table when they moved into the kitchen, I tried not to listen to the quiet rumble of their voices as Kat mixed mushrooms into the goulash.

  They carried bowls of heaped up goulash into the dining room, sour cream on Dog’s.

  “There’s more if you want it,” Kat said.

  I took a bite, more to appease Kat than because I was hungry.

  “Professor Stegner said we could use our old house,” she said. “He’s making some repairs, and the first renters aren’t moving in till January.”

  Which would be better than returning to my parent’s Orange County house. “That’s okay with me, if it’s okay with you.”

  I felt rather than saw Kat exchange a look with Dog, and I looked up alertly.

  “Or maybe it would be better to move closer to Dog’s hospital?” I said.

  Dog shrugged. “We can talk about it later. We should stay together for now.”

  “Don’t do it for me,” I said.

  “For Sebastian,” Kat said. “We’ll stay available till everything’s resolved. And I’m still working at Vote Greene Headquarters. I don’t want to move too far from it.”

  I set down my fork. “Why?”

  She glowered at me. “I slaved over dinner. Keep eating.”

  I picked up my fork.

  “Why are you still working for Dad’s campaign?” She started to speak, but I cut her off. “We three have always been a package deal with Crowder Industries. Since they’re paying for Dad’s bookkeeping, you probably aren’t working there anymore.”

  “I’m assuming I am till told otherwise. I need to talk to you about what the Irregulars and I have found so far.” She looked pointedly at my bowl. “I can talk while you eat.”

  I made a face. “In a second. First I want to find out what secret Dog and Sebastian have been keeping from us.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dog choked on his goulash. Kat’s spoon clattered in her bowl.

  “Secrets? You’ve been keeping secrets. From me?”

  Still coughing, he grabbed his water glass. While he drank, I said, “Sebastian couldn’t remember what the secret was, but he knew it was important.”

  He shot an uneasy look at Kat. “The police contacted Sebastian
last summer. Adam Reich’s back.”

  “Who?” I asked, but Kat was quicker than me.

  “Annette Reich’s brother? The one who disappeared after she tried to kill us?”

  I froze. Although I didn’t like talking about it, I still had nightmares about Annette shooting and narrowly missing Kat. She blamed the Crowder family for the death of her father. Thomas Crowder might have prevented her father’s imprisonment but chose silence instead. She had been determined to kill me, Thomas’s Abishag wife.

  “Does Adam Reich want to kill me, too?” My voice rose as I spoke, squeaking on the last word.

  Dog patted my hand. “We don’t know that. Sebastian got you that job with Professor Telemann, thinking you might be safer in the desert and hired a security company to keep an eye on you when he couldn’t. The police were watching for Reich, too.”

  “That was a year ago.” I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Someone with the same murderous rage as his sister might be gunning for me, and I hadn’t a clue.

  “When the Professor was shot,” Dog said, “Sebastian told the police about Reich, in case it was Reich who shot Doctor Telemann while looking for you. But we know that turned out differently.”

  My thoughts went in another direction. “Was Sebastian dating me just to make sure I was safe?”

  “Of course not,” Kat said. “He loved you.”

  Dog seemed suddenly fixated on his goulash. I thought I had my answer. Our time together last year, all those eggshell presents, had been a sham. Had the engagement ring only been another means to keep me safe?

  “Is Sebastian’s security agency still watching me?”

  “I called them after Sebastian’s accident,” Dog said. “Since Crowder Industries had them on retainer, they were then. I don’t know if Sebastian’s brother has cancelled it since, but I can check. The police keep me updated on the search for Reich. I talked to them last week, and they told me that he hasn’t been sighted for over a month.”

  I couldn’t seem to focus on what he was saying. “Did Reich cause Sebastian’s accident?”

  Dog hesitated too long.

 

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