Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
ABBY
Idecided to take my anger out on the ugly, outdated kitchen island in my new house the next day. I had contractors coming to demolish the kitchen the following week, but sometimes all a girl needed was a good cry and a sledgehammer.
James and Kate were in the living room, painting my walls while trying to hide their obvious flirting.
Good for them.
At least some of us were happy.
Kate poked her head into the kitchen as I wiped dust particles off my cheek. “This doesn’t look like measuring cabinets,” she observed, frowning. “Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”
I spared her a glance just as my weapon came down on the island that doubled as my emotional demons. I was manifesting those bastards into the puke-green laminate countertop. “I’m fine.”
“I despise that word.” Kate pressed her hands to her hips. “Want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
Smash.
“Want to start day-drinking and cry about it?”
“No, thanks.”
Smash.
“C’mon, Abby. You look like someone ripped your heart out,” she said with a sigh. “That, or you have some kind of incurable disease. Shit, are you dying?”
I blew a strand of hair off my face and pivoted toward my friend, holding up the sledgehammer with more aggression than intended.
Kate slunk back with a nervous chuckle. “Am I dying?”
Finally letting a smile slip, I lowered the tool. I debated filling Kate in on my falling out with Cooper the night before but decided against it. “No one is dying. I just had a bad night. My nightmares are getting a little intense.”
She approached me with turquoise paint stains smeared across the front of her overalls.
Tugging on her ponytail, also sprinkled with paint spatter, she sent me a look of sympathy.
“You know I’m here if you want to talk about it.
I had really bad nightmares after my mom died, so I know how much it can screw with your head. ”
I appreciated the offer, but I didn’t just have nightmares—I was living one.
Every damn day.
“I’ll think about it. Thanks for helping me out today.”
“Oh, well, you know I’m only here to spend time with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.
” Kate emphasized the last part by pitching her voice loud and craning backward, peering around the corner to where James was painting.
She laughed when he looked up with confusion before turning back to me and whispering, “I kinda like him. What do you think?”
“I think you should go for it,” I said, sprinkling enthusiasm into my tone. “He likes you, too. It doesn’t always work out like that…you know, the mutual feelings.” Ducking my head, I nibbled my cheek. “You’re lucky.”
Kate studied me, a shadow of concern flickering across her face.
It looked like she might pry further but just nodded, instead.
“Yeah. You’re right.” She slipped her hands into her pockets and stepped back.
“Well, I want to get this room painted and take a nap before my shift tonight. Dad hired another ‘up-and-coming band,’ so it’s going to be a madhouse. Cooper’s even clocking in some hours.”
My ears perked up. “Cooper’s bartending tonight?”
“Yep. Poor sucker.” Kate continued her trek backward, shaking her head with pity. “My brother has this issue with telling people no.”
My insides twisted when Kate disappeared into the adjacent living room. My palms grew sweaty. My indignation flared.
Cooper had no problem telling me no.
The weight of his rejection spiraled through me, and I squeezed the handle of the sledgehammer in a death-like grip. I tossed it to the floor and plucked my cell phone from my back pocket. I was about to text Daphne, but I noticed an unread message from Cooper.
Cooper
Can we talk?
I glared at the text.
My eyes narrowed with disdain before I promptly deleted it. Scrolling through my contacts for Daphne’s number, I typed out a text message and clicked Send.
Me
What are you doing tonight?
Cooper
I sat alone at my desk at the station, trying to get some work in, while periodically checking my phone to see if Abby was ever going to respond.
It had been hours since I’d texted her, so I feared the answer was a very likely no.
Sighing miserably, I leaned back in the chair, interlocking my fingers behind my head.
I felt like shit.
I’d felt like shit since Abby had stormed out of my house twenty-four hours earlier, and I resigned myself to the fact that I’d probably feel like shit until I could make things right with her.
I was usually good at compartmentalizing. I needed to be. It was imperative, given my line of work.
I took a sip of coffee and tried to focus. I was working on a new lead in Abby’s case; a lead she had given me on the pontoon yesterday.
Her brother.
Ryan Stone, an apparent drug addict with a grudge against his sister.
I hadn’t pursued Ryan early on in the investigation because I didn’t have much to go on. All I had was the guy’s record, which, by all accounts, was squeaky clean. I wasn’t aware just how deep the family grudge went. Ryan was clearly not my guy, but he could have hired someone.
Perhaps it was all set in motion for financial gain. Ryan had to know that Abby was the benefactor of Cecily Stone’s fortune. Maybe Ryan or one of his drug buddies had set out to drain her dry.
But…why keep her alive for two weeks and not cash in on her funds? What was the point?
That was the constant hole in the theory that Abby was kidnapped for her wealth. It nagged at me. The money trail was a worthy trail to follow, except for the fact that no money had been taken. All that had come out of the abduction was a traumatized woman and a subsequent criminal investigation.
Why?
Because the suspect was not a killer.
I tapped my knuckles against the top of my desk. It was the only theory that made sense. Whomever had abducted Abby had probably held her for ransom with the intention of killing her but couldn’t go through with it.
The Withered Man had choked.
And if he couldn’t kill her, he couldn’t take her money because then there would have been a live witness—Abigail. So, he’d run. He’d disappeared and went about his life, leaving behind a broken girl and a slew of questions.
Those questions still remained, and something told me that Ryan Stone might be able to answer a few of them.
Picking up the receiver on my work phone, I dialed Ryan’s listed phone number.
According to my research, Abby’s brother lived in Glenview, Illinois and worked in finance.
He seemed like an up-and-up citizen who paid his taxes and drove the speed limit.
But I knew that appearances could be deceiving.
Ryan didn’t answer, so I left a brief message, prompting him to return my call on my personal cell. It was all I could do for now.
Damn, I hated waiting.
The hours ticked by, and I finally completed my shift and clocked out, waving goodbye to Faye as I exited the station. I wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep away my feelings, but my father had put a wrench in that spectacular plan. Instead, I was headed to job number two.
Entering The Crow Bar a little after eight p.m., I nodded at my sister and Lana, who were waiting tables. My father and Henry were tending to the bar, struggling to keep up with the crowd. The band had just begun to play, and patrons were eager to have their glasses filled.
“Coop. Glad you made it,” Dad said, wiping down the bar with a clean rag. “I’m going to help in the kitchen. You’ll be good?”
“Think I can manage.” I eyed Henry at the opposite end of the bar, hoping the asshole kept his distance for the next few hours. “I’ll stay until midnight.”
“That’s great, Son. Thanks.”
My father disappeared through the kitchen doors as I started assisting customers. When another hour rolled by, and I was in the midst of propping lemon wedges along shot glass rims, my sister breezed up behind me and elbowed me in the ribs.
I grimaced. “You really need to find a less painful way of getting my attention.”
Kate tilted her head to the entrance of the bar. “I’m not the only one trying to get your attention,” she said with a wink. “Your girlfriend just walked in, and holy cream cheese on a cracker, she looks good.”
My attention had been earned.
I lifted my head and watched as Abby and Daphne strolled in through the entryway, arms linked. It felt like the scene played out in slow motion as heads turned and jaws dropped.
Holy cream cheese on a cracker, all right.
Whatever the hell that meant.
Abby was wearing a skin-tight, electric-blue tube dress.
It cut off mid-thigh, leaving little to the imagination.
Her heels were high, her head held higher.
Long, curled hair cascaded down her back and shoulders, while her pretty face was painted with more makeup than she normally wore. She looked sexy; I couldn’t deny it.
But she’d looked just as sexy the day before, doused in lake water and seaweed, with streaks of mascara running down her cheeks and sunburn on her nose.
“Damn. Does she have a keg under that dress? ‘Cause I would tap that.” Marky Kravitz slid onto the bar stool in front of me.
I scowled with disgust. The last person I wanted to deal with was Lyle’s obnoxious degenerate of a little brother.
Marky salivated as he leered at Abby. “Please tell me you’ve hit that, McAllister.”
I leaned forward until I was only inches away from Marky’s mayonnaise breath and tried not to gag. “Go be elsewhere.” My tone was dangerous.
Kate peered around me and flipped Marky off with a beaming smile. He puckered his lips at her and made kissing noises, even though his gaze remained fixed on Abby. That gaze remained hard and predatory as he strolled away from the bar counter.
“Just give me a reason to arrest that asshole again,” I grumbled.
Snickering, Kate loaded up her tray and sauntered back out to the dining floor. “I can give you plenty, but you won’t like any of them.”