Abby rearranged her face into a composed mask. Too composed. Why wasn’t she freaking out? Wouldn’t most women be crying if they’d thought they might have been raped?
She cleared her throat and straightened her spine. She might be reining in her emotions, but Ethan could see the distress deep in her eyes. “Can I use this computer? I need to check on the status of an inmate at Greenville.”
“Oooo-kay,” Ethan said, his turn to be stunned. “Want to tell us what’s going on?”
She gave him a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. Her face was bloodless, the skin on her face stretched tight. “After.”
Ethan opened the laptop, booted it up, and established a secure Internet connection. Brooke was on her feet again and pacing the tiny strip of floor behind her chair. He slid the computer across the table, turning it to face Abby. Then he got up and walked around to look over her shoulder as she pulled up the website for the Victim Information and Notification Everyday system, otherwise known as VINE, which was a nationwide database to help victims keep tabs on prison inmates. She typed into a few blanks. Her speed with the site suggested practice. She didn’t have to look up any of the inmate information either.
Abby pressed SEND. She interlocked her fingers while the computer chugged. Her knuckles paled under the pressure.
INMATE NOT FOUND.
“No. It has to be a mistake,” she whispered to herself. She typed in the number again.
INMATE NOT FOUND.
The air whooshed out of her in one huge exhale. Her face whitened, and her brown eyes went dark with shock. Ethan pulled her chair away from the table and put a hand between her shoulder blades. He guided her head down. “Breathe.”
“It can’t be right. There has to be a mistake.” She bent forward, hanging her face in front of her knees. “He had three more years before he was even eligible for parole.”
The chief leaned back in his chair and rubbed his jaw. Brooke stared in alarmed silence. Ethan kept his hand on Abby’s back. Her spine trembled under his palm. He wanted to wrap his arms around her but doubted she could handle it.
He moved his hand in a gentle circle. “Who, Abby? Who were you looking for?”
“Zeke Faulkner. The man who kidnapped me three years ago.” Abby spoke to the carpet.
Ethan’s heart dropped into his gut. He barely held back the what? that was screaming through his head.
Abby sat up. “I met Faulkner at my gym. He asked me out, but I said no. There was something creepy about him. I came home from work one night. He was waiting in the bedroom closet. I didn’t see his face, but I knew it was him. He wore very distinctive cologne, and I recognized his voice. He knocked me out. When I woke up, I was in a hole in the ground. It turned out to be an abandoned well.”
“How long did he keep you?” And what did he do to her while he had her prisoner? Ethan dropped his hand to her forearm. He needed to keep touching her, to maintain a connection. Without it he feared she’d withdraw again. She didn’t protest.
“Faulkner never came back. The school reported me missing when I didn’t show up for work. Several people had seen him following me around the gym. When the police started looking for him, they found out he was already in jail. He’d been picked up after a bar fight the same night he grabbed me. They didn’t find me for ten days. The farm was in the Pine Barrens. Luckily, there was a small amount of water in the bottom of the well or I would have dehydrated.”
“Faulkner went to prison?” Ethan asked.
“Yes.” Her voice was distant and disconnected. “They found my hair in his trunk, and he’d left DNA on a cigarette butt near the window he used to gain entry into my house. Faulkner pled not guilty, but he didn’t take the stand. With all the physical evidence, the trial was short, and he was sentenced to eight years. But the prosecutor told me he wouldn’t likely get parole until he’d served at least five.”
“Eight years for kidnapping?” Ethan said through clenched molars. “That’s ridiculous.” But Ethan knew the sentences for violent crimes were often horrifyingly short due to prison overcrowding, tight budgets, and other lame, horseshit-type reasons.
“I’ll double-check with the warden.” The chief stood. “Brooke, can you come with me? Ethan, get that slideshow going.”
Brooke followed the chief out of the conference room.
Ethan flexed his jaw, which ached from grinding his teeth. “While we’re waiting for the chief, I’d like you to watch some video segments to see if there’s anyone at the school who shouldn’t be there.”
“All right.” Abby brought her knees up to her chin and hugged her shins. Her gray skirt was long enough to cover her to the ankles of her black leather boots. Her brown eyes, usually warm, were desolate and vulnerable.
“Can you think of anyone else who has a grudge against you? Anyone else who would want to hurt you?”
A slight hesitation. “No.” She was still hiding something. How bad could it be? She’d already told them a horrific story. What could possibly be worse than that? Ethan’s stomach soured. She’d been kidnapped three years ago, and someone had tried to kill her last Friday. The sky was the limit on surprises after those events.
Abby’s curled body was stiffer than his dress blues. He opened the laptop. He doubted she would see anything, but the distraction might be helpful. Besides, she looked like she was withdrawing, and Ethan wanted to keep her engaged.
Her gaze fixed on the screen, her expression unreadable. Most people would be losing it if they’d learned they’d been poisoned, but Abby had gotten more composed after hearing the news. She hadn’t even flinched at the possibility that she’d been raped.
What. The. Hell?
Ethan tapped on the touchpad to wake the hibernating computer and clicked on the media player. The open file was paused. He clicked PLAY, and the segment rolled.
With bleak eyes, she watched the exodus of students and teachers. What was she thinking? “Let me know if you see anyone out of place or someone you don’t recognize.”
She slid further down in the chair and hugged her legs harder. “OK.” Staring at the screen, Abby pressed her knuckle against her mouth.
She’d only lived in Westbury for two years. Ethan needed to know everything about her life prior to the move. “Any chance you have an angry ex?”
“No.” She didn’t take her eyes off the computer screen. “I haven’t dated anyone since I moved here.”
“Social media accounts?” he asked in case he’d missed her pages in his Internet search. The last young woman attacked in Westbury had broadcast her every activity on the Internet.
“None.”
Ethan had thought maybe if they were alone, she’d talk to him. He was obviously wrong, and her one-word answers weren’t going to help him solve her case. If anyone had a chance to get some information, it was Brooke. Ethan hoped the chief was making that point to Brooke right now. But how could Ethan get Abby to trust him?
“How about family?”
She blinked. The corner of her mouth trembled, but she smoothed out her expression with a sniff. “There’s no one.”
“No one?” As soon as the surprised words left his mouth, Ethan silently cursed his lack of tact.
“My mother died shortly after the trial,” she said in a monotone voice. “I have no siblings, and I haven’t seen my father in years. He wasn’t a big part of my childhood.”
“I’m sorry.” Ethan tilted his head and tried to catch her gaze. Her eyes flickered to his and returned to the computer with a frightening lack of emotion. He’d seen her with her young neighbor and her dog. She wasn’t the cold, controlled person next to him.
What was going on behind that guarded expression? Why was she wearing it? Ethan had to find a way to break through the brick wall she’d constructed. She needed to share whatever secret she was holding back. What he didn’t know could
get her killed.
The chief appeared in the doorway. “The warden just confirmed that Zeke Faulkner was released from prison two weeks ago.”
Abby opened her eyes to total darkness. Her head pulsed with pain. She blinked. Was she blind? She reached up and felt her eyelids with the pads of her fingers. Either something was wrong with her eyes, or the room was totally dark. She touched her forehead and scalp. When she probed behind her left ear, agony blasted in her skull like a bullhorn. Her stomach heaved. Riding the wave of nausea, she curled on her side and breathed through her nose.
The pain eased back to a dull throb. She lay still and listened. A faint scratch sounded on her left, so soft that she turned her head and strained her hearing to catch a repeat. But all she could hear was the muffled sound of wind from above.
She felt the floor around her. Dirt. Her palm slapped a puddle she sincerely hoped was water. Was she in a shed or basement? With slow and deliberate motions so as not to jar her aching brain, she lifted her head then rose to a sitting position. She raised her hands overhead but encountered no ceiling. With one arm still lifted to shield her head, she eased to her feet. She wobbled. Several moments passed until her legs steadied. She reached high over her head. Still she could feel no ceiling. She turned in a circle, arms outstretched.
Sliding her feet across the ground, she shuffled forward. In two steps, her hands hit a rough surface. Her fingers probed. The material was dry and crumbly. Some sort of rough stone.
Where was she? How long had she been here?
Long enough for her hearing to sharpen. A buzz sounded behind her. Following the sound, her head jerked around. An insect brushed against her face. Abby swiped at it, recoiling and banging her elbow on the wall.
She turned around and shuffled carefully in the other direction, each foot sliding forward to make sure the ground topography didn’t change. Two shuffles forward and her fingers hit another wall. She waved her hands horizontally. The wall curved. Her hole was cylindrical and barely wider than her arm span.
Something on her body jingled. Her fingers searched for the source. Straps crisscrossed her torso. She traced their presence around her chest, waist, and the top of each thigh. Cold metal rings hung from the ensemble.
A harness? Oh my God. Rappelling gear.
Even though everything was black, she looked up on reflex. He had lowered her into a hole in the ground. A well?
She stretched her hands high. Nothing was above. She’d been lowered deep into the bowels of the earth. Her eyes probed the darkness above. Fear crawled through her belly. Where was she? Where did the man go who’d taken her? And when was he coming back?
Abby sank into the cold leather of Brooke’s passenger seat and tried to shake off the memory of her kidnapping.
“Are you all right?” Brooke settled behind the wheel.
“Yeah.”
She gave Abby a flat-lipped, sad smile. “Mike wanted me to ask you again if you think there’s any chance you were raped.”
“I don’t think so.” Panic, intensified by her flashback, bubbled into Abby’s throat. “There’s really no way to know for sure, is there? It’s been four days. But my instincts and all the facts we do have say no.” She was going to hold onto that for now because at this moment she couldn’t deal with the alternative.
“I’m so sorry.” Brooke reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re probably right, but you might want to see your doctor.”
Fortunately she was on birth control pills. But what about sexually transmitted diseases? She’d been healthy and hadn’t bothered to find a new doctor since she’d moved. Except for her house and job, she hadn’t done many of the things people did when they were putting down roots. In the back of her mind, had she known this new start was temporary and that eventually she’d have to find another place to hide? Tears burned the corners of her eyes. One escaped, sliding down her cheek.
She buried the thoughts, like so many others. She had to get home. Dig in. Hide from reality. It was what she did best.
Brooke started the engine. “Let’s collect Zeus and some of your things and go back to my house.”
“No.” Abby swiped a thumb under her eye. “I won’t endanger you or your family. Your kids have been through enough.”
“You’re not safe alone. How about I stay with you?”
Abby shook her head. “Your kids need you. I have Zeus. I’ll be fine. The police chief said he’d have someone ride by my house frequently.” Besides, Abby needed time alone.
What was she going to do?
Brooke smiled. “I know Mike and Ethan. They’ll do their best to keep you under surveillance.”
“You have that much faith in them?” Abby leaned her forehead against the cool glass. She had no idea how she’d been poisoned. A patrol car driving by her house wasn’t that reassuring.
“I do. Ethan saved your life.”
“I know.” In her head she knew she should trust him, and her heart agreed. Every time he was with her, it thumped a little faster. But her instincts, honed by a lifetime of betrayal and disappointment, weren’t controlled so rationally.
Brooke turned onto Main Street. “You still want to rent a car?”
“Yes.” Abby didn’t want to be stranded with no way to run should fleeing become necessary. The thought of leaving Westbury filled her with sadness.
They stopped at the shopping center that housed the car rental agency. Abby selected a midsize gray sedan, the kind of car no one noticed.
“I’m going to call you in a couple of hours.” Brooke hugged her good-bye in the parking lot.
Abby got into the sedan. She drove home in silence, her brain too overwhelmed for music. Her eye on the rearview mirror confirmed that Brooke followed her all the way home. Abby turned down her street. A police cruiser already sat at the curb. Ethan was at the wheel. Brooke waved, smiled, and drove off.
“I didn’t expect you here so quickly.” Abby locked the sedan with the fob. Truthfully, she was relieved to see him.
He got out of the vehicle and walked with her to the front door. Zeus barked at the window as Abby opened the door.
Ethan followed her into the foyer. “Do you always leave all the lights on?”
“I don’t like the dark.” Abby tossed her keys in the bowl on the desk. “Not anymore.”
Anger flared in Ethan’s eyes, then softened. “It’s no wonder.”
Zeus rubbed on her legs. “Good boy.” She patted his head and stumbled under the force of a head butt.
Ethan caught her elbow. “The whining is ridiculous.”
“I know.” Abby pushed the dog backward and scratched his head until he settled. “He loves me.”
“Wait here. I’ll check the house.” Ethan walked toward the closet.
Abby hung her jacket on a coat tree by the front door. “OK, but if anyone were here, Zeus would know about it.”
“Humor me.” Ethan checked the first floor and went upstairs. She heard his footsteps overhead, moving from room to room. A few minutes later, his boots clunked back down the steps. “Where’s the door to the garage?”
Abby led him through the kitchen and pointed. She reached for the phone. Even though three years had passed, the number for the prosecutor’s office that had handled her kidnapping case was burned into her brain like a brand. Two minutes later, Abby hung up with an appointment. She dialed the school and left a message that she’d be out for the rest of the week. She never missed work. In fact, she hadn’t used a single sick day the whole year. But there was no way she could focus on teaching until she got some answers, and she’d been on her way home from school when someone had tried to kill her. She could endanger her students.
Someone tried to kill me. The truth hit her with shocking intensity. What were the chances? About the same as being struck by lightning twice? Getting bitten by two sharks?
<
br /> She’d never be safe. Never.
Hands shaking, she started the teakettle. A knock at the back door startled her. Zeus barked, and the furious wag of his thin tail suggested friend not foe. With one hand pressed to the base of her neck, Abby moved the curtain and peeked out the window. Derek stood on the back stoop, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched in defeat. Bracing her spine and gathering her control, Abby let him in. The dog went through his wagging and whining routine. Derek dropped to a knee. Zeus wiped slobber all over the boy’s jacket.
“Where’s the cop?” Derek got to his feet. His gaze pinged around the room.
“He’s checking the house,” Abby said. What would Derek think of the GHB poisoning or her kidnapping? Should she tell him? As much as she hated to frighten him, she had to be straight with him. Being at her house could put him in danger. “The police think my accident wasn’t an accident.”
Derek’s eyes stopped roaming and snapped to meet hers. “Someone messed with your car.”
“Something like that.”
His eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” She didn’t provide the details. It was enough that he was informed about the risk. Maybe he should stay away from her for a while. But what about his mom’s latest? “You need to be careful.”
He gave her a no kidding shrug.
“Maybe you shouldn’t hang around here for a couple of days. I don’t know when or where it happened. It might not be safe here.”
“Safety isn’t a guarantee anywhere.” The look in his eyes was as weary as Abby felt.
The stamp of boots signaled Ethan’s return from the garage. He stopped short. “Hey, Derek.”
“Hey.” Derek didn’t bolt, but his sneakers pointed toward the door as if he wanted to run.
“I was checking to make sure Abby’s house was all clear.” Ethan unzipped his coat. He caught Abby’s gaze. “I didn’t find any sign of an attempted break-in.”
Which meant her Gatorade had probably been tampered with at school. Goose bumps swept across Abby’s exposed skin, and she was relieved that she wouldn’t have to go back to work this week. The thought that her house hadn’t been violated was comforting, though.
She Can Hide (She Can Series) Page 9
