Laughing, she got out of bed and wrapped the thick fabric around her.
“You can use the shower while I take care of the horses.” Ethan tugged on socks. “There’s an electronic tablet in the nightstand. You can take it with you today in case you get bored.” He kissed her before leaving the room.
Abby grabbed her overnight bag from the dresser. Her body might feel relieved from last night’s emotional purge, but her face looked like a truck had run over it. Then backed up and run over it again.
She splashed cold water on her swollen eyes while the water heated. As the hot spray poured over her shoulders, Abby remembered Ethan’s hands and mouth on her body. Her skin flushed, and she didn’t know whether to be happy or humiliated. He’d seen her at her worst, a rare moment of self-pity. She rarely allowed herself to wallow, but last night she’d wanted to stay in Ethan’s arms. Her terror got the best of her, and she’d fled to the kitchen where she promptly turned on all the lights—which illuminated both the room and her failure in stark reality. The temptation to run and hide had nearly been unbearable.
She hadn’t been there more than ten minutes when he found her. And what he gave her was so much more than sex. More than comfort and compassion, he refused to let her retreat into herself. He made it clear that whatever her issues, he wasn’t letting go. She didn’t have to go back to being alone. But could she do it? Her entire life had taught her that all relationships eventually ended in disappointment or betrayal. Or both. Even her mother had let her down in the end, abandoning her daughter through suicide. Could she let Ethan in? The thought of losing him created a hollow space behind her breastbone.
Abby dressed in fresh jeans and a turtleneck. She opened Ethan’s nightstand and took out the tablet. Thin and light, it fit easily into her purse. Abby went to the kitchen. Pale light washed the room in shades of gray. No Zeus, but an empty bowl sat on the floor. Ethan must have fed him and taken the dog out with him. He’d also made coffee. Shouldn’t he be back? She went to the window. An overcast sky hung low over the barn. The forecast was for a couple of inches of snow later in the day.
She grabbed her jacket and borrowed a hat and gloves in the mudroom. One sniff of the morning air verified that a storm was on the way. The barn door was partway open. She went inside, inhaling the comforting smell of hay and dust and large animal bodies. Zeus greeted her with his typical snort and trotted out of the barn to lift his leg on a nearby pine tree.
“Ethan?”
“In here.” His voice carried from the second stall.
Abby gave the pony a pat on the way by. The bay horse was in the middle of its stall. Its blanket had slipped sideways and tangled around its legs. Ethan reached for a strap, but the horse shifted sideways.
“Is everything all right?”
“No. I have to cut these straps, but he won’t hold still.” Ethan went back to the head and shushed the animal until it calmed again. “If I give you the number, can you call my cousin Ronnie?”
“Why don’t I just cut the straps for you?” Abby opened the stall door and eased inside. The horse eyed her but didn’t move.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“He seems to be calm as long as you’re at his head.” Abby moved forward.
Ethan considered. “OK, but come up here by his shoulder and let him sniff you. Watch his ears and his eyes. Rolling eyes, tense posture, or pinned ears means he’s not happy. And no sudden movements.”
But the bay stood while Abby took Ethan’s pocketknife and cut the nylon straps. The blanket dropped to the ground. Ethan moved the horse away. Abby collected the ruined blanket and left the stall.
Ethan joined her. He closed the half door and fastened the sliding bolt. Then he turned and kissed her. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” She nodded toward the bay. “He looks a lot better today.”
“He does. No fever. His appetite is back, and he’s not quite as skittish.” He steered her out of the barn.
“Hold it right there.”
Abby looked up, right into the barrel of a shotgun.
Ethan froze.
Mr. Smith, the old bastard who’d starved his horses.
Ten feet in front of Abby, the wiry old man pointed a shotgun at her head. His arthritic hands were steadier than Ethan would have expected. Behind him, a rickety truck and rusted horse trailer were parked in the barnyard.
Panic scrambled in Ethan’s chest. He’d been worried about Abby’s past. He hadn’t considered his job could put her at risk. He pushed her behind him. His hand clenched in front of his hip, but his gun was in the house. “Put the gun down, Mr. Smith.”
“Those are my horses. I’ve come to take them back.” Mr. Smith jerked the barrel toward the house. “You all get out of the way so no one gets hurt.”
Ethan didn’t budge. “Put the gun down, Mr. Smith.”
Smith peered around him. A mean glint shone from his eyes as he focused on Abby. “Get out of my way, or I’ll hurt her.”
Ethan’s blood chilled. He made sure Abby was completely behind him, but now what? Without taking his eyes off Smith, Ethan spoke to Abby. “Call 911.”
“If she moves, I’ll shoot.” Smith’s eyes sharpened. “At this range, the buckshot will definitely get you, but I might get lucky. Some of it might hit her too.”
A load of buckshot at this range would blow a hole in Ethan the size of a potato. Since his body armor was in the house with his weapon, using his body to shield Abby was the only strategy that came to mind. It wasn’t much of a plan, but he couldn’t risk any shot getting past him to hurt Abby.
Something big and tan moved in Ethan’s peripheral vision. With a short bark, Zeus barreled at Smith. The gun swung toward the dog. Ethan lunged forward, grabbing the barrel and shoving it toward the ground. He ripped the weapon from Smith’s hands just as Zeus’s bulk hit the old man dead center and took him to the ground.
Smith rolled onto his belly and covered his head with his hands. “Get him off me!”
Standing on the man’s back, Zeus growled. The dog’s inch-long fangs were millimeters from the back of his neck. A string of saliva dripped from the dog’s curled lips and landed on Smith’s jacket collar.
“Easy, Zeus.” Ethan moved forward, unsure of the dog’s intent.
Abby was beside him. “Good boy. Come here.”
Except for a flicker of his ear, Zeus ignored her. Under the huge canine, Smith whimpered. If Ethan was sure the dog wouldn’t break the guy’s neck, he would enjoy the sight of Smith getting some animal payback.
“Zeus.” Abby deepened her tone. “Come!”
The dog eased off Smith’s body with a reluctant sigh, but his eyes kept focus on the prone man even as Abby took hold of his collar and tugged him farther away.
“Don’t move, Mr. Smith,” Ethan said. He had no doubt if Smith so much as blinked, Zeus would be on him, and there wasn’t a thing Abby would be able to do to stop him.
Ethan moved in. In a few deft movements, he had Smith’s arms behind his back. Abby called 911.
“I didn’t see that coming.” Ethan used his knee to pin the man to the ground. “My handcuffs are in the house. Could you grab them for me?”
Abby put Zeus in the house before the on-duty police officer came to collect Smith. Back outside, she handed Ethan the cuffs with shaking hands.
Ethan secured Smith’s hands behind his back with a metallic snap. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “We can’t seem to catch a break.”
“No, we can’t. I’m sorry. I never considered that I could put you in danger.” Ethan stood. Nausea rolled through him. Fear for his own life didn’t even come close to the panic at the thought of Abby taking a load of buckshot.
“It’s not your fault. I know better than anyone that life doesn’t come with any guarantees.”
They waited
in silence for the approach of sirens in the quiet winter morning, and Ethan struggled to process the fact that his job had nearly gotten Abby killed.
Krista opened the basement door. The harsh chemical smell that assaulted her nose told her she was right about where Joe got his meth. He was making it in her house. If she wasn’t a total waste of space, she’d have noticed.
“Joe?” She gripped the banister. Her balance was off, and her fingers felt even weaker than her knees. The wooden basement steps creaked under her socks. She finally caught a couple hours of sleep this morning after spending the night wide-eyed and twitching.
Still, she couldn’t wait until Joe came back so she could do it again. The first time he’d made her. The second she’d gone to him. Like she was doing now. Nothing had ever chased away her sadness before, made her feel like her problems had flown away. The downside was that it didn’t last.
Had he left any down here?
She flipped on the light switch. The cellar was messy. Piled randomly on top of one another, boxes and discarded furniture cluttered the slab. She stepped off the stairs. The concrete was ice-cold and unyielding under her feet.
The far corner had been cleaned of debris, and Joe had covered the windows with towels. A scale, a hot plate, and rubber gloves sat on a low table. A nearby box contained a strange mix of household chemicals. Empty cold medicine boxes littered the floor.
She didn’t know anything about making meth, only that it was dangerous, but right now she didn’t care. The sadness was coming back, the ache that turned her inside out and made her think about doing something to end it for good.
Wait.
What was that?
She stepped closer. Panic skidded through her belly.
“Krista?” Joe’s boots thudded on the steps. “What are you doing?”
“I-I was looking for some more.” She jerked her eyes off what she instinctively knew she shouldn’t have seen.
“You have to wait until I give it to you.” His voice sharpened. He tilted his head.
Krista’s heart went trapped-rabbit.
Joe’s gaze traveled behind her. “You shouldn’t have come down here, Krista.”
Nausea rose in her throat. Her stomach heaved, and last night’s alcohol bubbled sour into her mouth. Joe came closer. He raised a hand and backhanded her across the face. Pain exploded through her cheek. Her legs folded, and she crumpled to the cement.
“Greedy bitch.” Joe stood over her. “I have to punish you for disobeying.”
“I promise I won’t say anything.”
“Oh, you won’t say anything.” Joe wrapped his hand in her hair and dragged her to her feet.
“Ow,” Krista cried.
Joe turned, anger gleaming from his dilated eyes. He’d been using without her. “You’ll do what you’re told, you fucking bitch.”
Fear slid through her bowels. He pulled a gun from the back of his pants and shoved the muzzle into her mouth. The metal tasted oily and sharp. “I will blow the back of your head onto the cinder blocks if you make one more sound. Do you understand?”
Krista’s head nodded like there weren’t any bones in her neck.
Joe took the muzzle from her mouth and ran it down her breasts to her crotch. “I wish I had time to punish you properly.”
Terror vibrated in her chest. Krista bit her tongue to hold back a moan.
“I have some cleaning up to do.” He stroked her cheek with the gun. The sight scraped her skin. “I wish I had time so we could have some fun. Or at least I could. But I have a delivery to make. Then you and I are going somewhere.”
No! She couldn’t leave. When would Derek be home? She thought it was afternoon, but time had been floaty that morning. School got out at three.
“Oh, you don’t like that idea?” Joe’s mouth split in a nasty grin.
“N-no.” She shook her head. The vibrating fear had amplified to trembles that shook her skeleton from her heels to her head.
“Well, I can’t leave you here. You know too much now.” Joe’s brows lowered as he considered something. “Would you rather wait until the kid gets home? Then he can come with us.”
A chill sprinted through Krista’s blood. The best thing she could do for Derek was get Joe out of the house. She shook her head again. “No. I’ll go with you.”
“That’s what I thought.” Joe produced a pair of handcuffs from one of the boxes. “I brought these especially for you. I’d intended to use them more for recreation. Hopefully we’ll have time for that later.” Light from the bare bulb on the ceiling joist glinted off silver. Joe snapped one cuff on her wrist. He dragged her to the wall and snapped the other ring around a pipe.
Joe opened an empty box and started loading it. “I won’t be much longer. I promise. Then it’s just you and me, baby.”
“Anything?” Ethan walked into the chief’s office and perched on the edge of a chair.
The chief took off a pair of frameless reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. “No. She didn’t recognize anyone. I tried to get some more information out of her, but she isn’t the easiest victim to interview.”
Ethan pictured Abby’s frustrated middle-of-the-night tears, and the calm that had followed the release of three years of pent-up emotion. “She doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“I guess not.” Mike leaned forward. He placed his elbows on his desk and pointed at the file with his reading glasses. “The case files on her kidnapping are awfully thin. Not much more information here than in the system. The hard evidence is in here, but most of that was compromised.”
“You think the Harris cops are holding out on us.”
“I doubt it. Sure, the scandal of a dirty cop wouldn’t help a department already skewered by the press. The prosecutor came in and cleaned house. I doubt he wants his new department soiled by an old crime.” The chief leaned back in his chair. He knew all about dirt and scandal. Westbury had its own political scandal of murder and deceit a few months back, and the fallout had almost cost the chief his life. Since then, the townspeople had elevated him to hero status. His support hefted a lot of weight. “But I think it’s more likely that Abrams didn’t put all of his notes in the file.”
“No sense incriminating himself.”
“Exactly.” The chief dropped his glasses on the blotter and rubbed his neck. “Stick close to her, Ethan.”
“I’d already planned on it.”
The chief nodded. “I thought so.”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“I don’t want anything to happen to her, and there’s no indication she’s anything but a victim.” Chief O’Connell scraped a beefy hand across his ruddy face. The sound of beard stubble rasped. “You have my full support.” The chief gave him a wry frown. “It’s not like I can throw stones.”
The chief and his fiancée, who was the center of a big murder case, were getting married in a few weeks.
“Thanks.” Ethan stood. Even though it didn’t affect his decision to protect Abby, it was good to know the chief had his back. Not that Ethan expected anything else.
“Is she cooperating?” the chief asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t know for how long.” Ethan voiced his fear. “What if this drags out? What if she wants to go back to living like a normal person?”
“I don’t know.” The chief closed the file. “Let’s take it one day at a time for now. Tonight, you keep her safe. We’ll address tomorrow in the morning.”
Ethan collected Abby and Zeus from the conference room. The lack of sleep from the night before and a day spent looking at photos on the computer showed in her eyes. “You want takeout or something from my mother’s vast stores of leftovers?”
“Either is fine.” Abby stood and let him steer her out of the building. “I need some fresh clothes and dog food. I’d also like to pick up the rent
al car.”
“You could just return it.” He climbed into his truck.
“I’d rather keep it for now,” Abby said. “Hopefully, this will all be over soon.”
“Maybe,” Ethan agreed. Optimism was a good sign. Unless she wanted the car because she was planning to go somewhere without him. Wait. Why read into her response? Last night they’d crossed a line. Their relationship was no longer professional or casual. She’d let him see her most terrifying secrets. She’d let him in. She’d trusted him. Surely she wouldn’t break that trust now. Not after what had passed between them.
He drove to Abby’s house. Night had descended on the small neighborhood. Abby’s house was dark.
Ethan made a U-turn and parked at the curb.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide with alarm. Was she afraid to go in?
“What’s wrong?” He touched her arm. She jumped.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Eyes glazed, she shook her head. “The lights aren’t on.”
Ethan followed her gaze to the dark house. “Should they be?”
“Yes. They’re set on timers.”
“That’s right. You told me that last night.” The hair on Ethan’s neck quivered. He glanced at the surrounding houses. “It looks like the whole neighborhood is down. Probably a blown transformer.”
Why hadn’t he noticed? Moonlight reflecting off the snow-covered ground brightened the evening and camouflaged the lack of electricity.
“I’ll check it out. You stay in the car and lock the doors.”
“No.” She grabbed the door handle and opened the door. “I can’t wait here by myself in the dark.”
Oh. He squeezed her hand. “OK, we’ll stay together.”
There was as much determination as fear in Abby’s face. Her gloved hands shook, and in the gray moonlight, her face was as pale as the icy sidewalk. She was working hard to control her terror, but her body looked like the wind whipping off the street could knock her over.
She Can Hide (She Can Series) Page 18
