Sinister Winds (Storm Series Book 2), page 11
“I can carry my own bag,” Abby repeated.
Belinda pulled her bag from the seat, lowered it to the aisle, elbowed her way back a couple of steps, and motioned Abby into the aisle. For a moment, Abby considered resisting but decided the woman hadn’t actually done anything but offer to help. Besides, her purse was indeed as heavy as it looked and, as such, would make an excellent weapon if warranted.
Chapter Twelve
After the short flight from Alanta to Norfolk, Abby stared out the window, watching as the plane landed, did a slight hop, and touched down once more. As it continued along the runway, the chimes of multiple cell phones rang through the cabin followed by the hum of voices speaking into their phones. Abby powered up her phone and texted Kevin to let him know her plane had landed, then stuffed the phone in her pocket and pulled her purse from under the seat, clutching it tight in front of her as the plane rolled to a stop. Abby watched as passengers rose and began pulling bags from the overhead compartments. Not too long ago, she’d arrived in New Orleans thinking she’d hit bottom with everything she had to her name stuffed into the confines of her car. Now, everything she owned was stuffed into the bag sitting in her lap. Granted, there was enough cash in the bag to buy anything she needed, but she couldn’t stop thinking that the cash was tainted. A part of her had actually been disappointed when Jefferies didn’t try to confiscate it. Cheer up, Abby, you’re scraping the bottom of the barrel; there’s nowhere to go but up from here.
The man who’d been sitting next to her stood, saw her looking, and motioned her out in front of him.
“Thank you,” Abby said, sliding out of her seat and following the line to exit the plane.
Belinda was waiting for her when she reached the waiting area and stepped up beside her as she walked. “The luggage area is this way. Take your time, it’ll be a few moments before the bags reach the turnstile.”
“I don’t have any bags,” Abby reminded her.
Belinda’s eyes grew round. “Shit, girl, I thought you just meant no carry-on.”
“Nope.” Abby laughed and waved a hand across her body. “This is everything I own.”
“You’ve lost your husband, had to be rescued by helicopter, and have nothing but the clothes on your back. I’m telling you, girl, I would be much more upset than you seem to be,” Belinda replied.
“I’ve cried a million tears in the last week. It doesn’t do anything but give me bags under my eyes.” Something Belinda said nagged at her. She stopped walking and turned to the woman. “How did you know about the helicopter?”
“ABBY!”
Abby looked to see a flash of pink at the end of the restricted – passengers only hallway. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight of Kevin wielding a sign that read Welcome Home, Sunshine. They embraced, remaining intertwined for several moments as the stress of everything she’d been through melted away. Finally, she pulled back and was glad to see she wasn’t the only one blubbering like a baby. She looked for Belinda, thinking to introduce them, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. She turned her attention back to Kevin. “I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my whole life.”
“Me too, Sunshine. You look a bit pale, though. I think I may have to find a new name for you,” he said, eyeing her critically.
“It’s just from being in the hospital for over a week. You can’t get much of a tan from a hospital bed,” she said as they began walking.
Kevin gave her a worried glance. “Are you sure everything is okay with the baby?”
“Relax, Kevin, everything is fine. It was just dehydration. They gave me fluids and the baby’s heart rate is fine now. That’s why they kept me so long, to make sure we were both okay.”
He let out a sigh. “As long as you’re sure.”
“They would not have let me fly if they didn’t think I would be okay,” she said to reassure him.
“This way to the baggage claim,” he said with a tilt of the head.
“No baggage,” she said, patting her purse.
He eyed the bag dubiously. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but the bag is hideous. I hope you have a change of underwear at least.”
“Nope. Just a hospital toothbrush, a few hair essentials, and a cheap comb. I don’t even have a change of clothes.” She felt her lips quiver.
Kevin, seeing her distress, took her by the arm. “Don’t you worry, Sunshine; we have some great malls around here. We’ll get your closet full in no time.” Kevin’s face became serious. “You’re what matters, not things. Things can be replaced.”
“I know.”
“Then you should also know that I’m glad you and the baby are safe. I will take care of you now,” he said, pulling her arm through his and escorting her from the building.
As they walked, Abby had the feeling of being watched.
***
Abby was exhausted by the time they finally made it to the house. They’d stopped by Lynnhaven Mall so she could pick up enough clothes to keep her going for a few weeks and two new pink shirts for Kevin before heading to the Great Bridge section of Chesapeake. As Kevin drove through the older neighborhood with large, established trees, it crossed Abby’s mind that it looked like a perfect neighborhood. She was quick to remind herself that nothing was ever perfect. She would never fall under that assumption again. Nothing was as it seemed and there were no Norman Rockwell neighborhoods in real life.
“This is it,” Kevin said, pulling into the driveway of a single-story red brick ranch with black shutters. “Doesn’t look as if Dad is home.”
“Good, it will give me time to take a shower,” she said, relieved. She wasn’t looking forward to meeting the man who’d locked Kevin in the closet as a boy, even if she was grateful for the skills he’d gleaned from the experience.
“Relax, Sunshine. Dad is an okay guy.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “So I’ve heard.”
“He’s mellowed with age,” Kevin said, opening the trunk and pulling out several clothing bags.
She followed him into the house and stood in stunned silence, staring at the décor. Green carpet, bold curtains with oversized flowers, and a black and white plaid couch.
Kevin shrugged his shoulders at her unspoken comment. “I’ve begged him to let me remodel, but he refuses. I think he’s afraid I’ll make it too gay.”
“Like anything can be worse than this,” Abby said with a flourish of the hand.
“His taste is all in his mouth,” Kevin said, flipping on the turquoise lamp.
“It’s like a garage sale vomited in here,” Abby agreed.
The couch cushion moved. Abby peered closer. “Gulliver?”
The cat rolled onto his back and meowed a soulful cry.
“What on earth is the matter with him?” she asked, her voice etched with fear.
“Too many donuts,” Kevin said with a sigh.
“Shit, Kevin!” Abby said, staring at the lethargic feline.
“Not me, Dad. He found out Gulliver likes donuts and thinks it’s fun to watch him eat them.” He sat the bags down. “In the old man’s defense, he’s never had a cat before.”
The second Abby reached him, Gulliver let out a barrage of feline cries, head-butting against her and purring his contentment. A sea of tears rolled down her face, falling onto the oblivious cat. “Oh, Gulliver,” she sobbed. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
Kevin joined her on the couch. “I guess maybe he’s been depressed and drowning his sorrows in jelly donuts I’ve not seen him this excited in weeks,” he said with a twinge of guilt.
Abby tried to hold back the tears, but the effort was futile. Once opened, the floodgates refused to close. It was the first time since her wedding that she truly felt safe. She was still sobbing long after Gulliver had settled peacefully in her lap.
Kevin left the room and came back holding two bottles of water and a box of Kleenex. He handed her one of the water bottles and the box of tissues, which she gratefully accepted.
He sat beside her, opened his water, and took a drink. She leaned against him in companionable silence until her tears subsided.
“Something tells me this is not just about jelly donuts,” he said at last.
They had only spoken twice during the time she was in the hospital. Kevin did not know of the events that took place after his departure. He had not asked, and she had not offered. Abby struggled to find her voice, afraid the words would bring a new onslaught of tears.
“Jacob is dead,” she said, her voice trembling.
“I know. If he was alive, he would have found you by now,” he said, taking a swig of his water.
“I killed him, Kevin.”
He nodded. “The gun?”
“No, I tried, but in the end, I couldn’t pull the trigger.”
“Probably for the best; a gunshot wound is pretty hard to explain, even if it is self-defense,” he said practically. “If you didn’t shoot him, then how?”
“Remember when Pearl said the way up is the way out? Well, when the water came in, I knew what she meant. I went upstairs and pulled the trunk over the opening so he couldn’t get up. The water was in the house by then, and he drowned,” she said, explaining the events of the day.
“Wait, you moved that trunk? By yourself? That thing had to weigh at least a hundred pounds,” he said incredulously. “How in the heck did you move it?”
“I’ve been asking myself that for weeks. I keep reliving it over and over. I told Mr. Jefferies the truth, but every time I see a cop, I’m afraid they’ve come to arrest me. He said everything I told him was off the record, but what if he was lying?” she said, sobbing out a fresh wave of tears. “I mean, I didn’t shoot him, but my fingerprints are on the gun. What if they decide the bullet holes are enough to arrest me for attempted murder?”
“Bullet holes? I thought you said you didn’t shoot him?”
“I didn’t. I shot the closet door,” she said, blowing her nose.
“Why would you shoot the closet door?”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “Because you weren’t there to pick the lock.”
Kevin laughed. “Silly me for leaving during a hurricane. I guess we should have worked on your sleuthing skills.” He was quiet for a moment. “Okay, so the cops come in, find the body, and then find the trunk over the opening. Maybe the water got so high the trunk floated over the opening?”
“No, I wasn’t sure at first, but from what I’ve seen on the news, it’s not likely the water got much higher than the floorboards of the attic. Besides, I moved the trunk back before I left.”
“You moved it twice? How?”
She shrugged. “I have no clue. I honestly don’t remember the first time, but the second time took some doing.”
“Remind me not to mess with you,” Kevin replied.
“I’m scared, Kevin. I know what Mr. Jefferies said, but I don’t want to have this baby in jail.”
Kevin took hold of her hand. “There is no way they can prove you blocked his exit. Look at you. You’re pregnant. Even if you weren’t, the trunk weighs nearly as much as you. Your husband drowned. So, technically, you did not kill him.”
“I helped…”
“You did not kill your husband. He died like many other unfortunate souls during that awful storm,” he said, cutting her off.
“But…”
“Your husband drowned, Abby,” he said more firmly.
She nodded.
“Now say it.”
“My husband drowned,” she said.
He squeezed her hand. “That’s right. Now you put that guilt to bed, Sunshine. You know as well as I do that he would have pulled the trigger if the roles were reversed.”
She hadn’t thought about it like that. Kevin was right. Even knowing she was in the attic, Jacob didn’t hesitate to shoot through the floorboards. If he had killed her, he would have told himself it was her fault for making him do it—saying she should have played by the rules. She let out a sigh. Her whole life had been one big game of chess, with Jacob moving the pieces. “You sound like Gomez,” she said. She told him about her rescue and the conversation with the man while in the chopper. “You would have liked him.”
Kevin sighed. “Sounds like a dream date.”
She laughed. “Spin it all you like, Kev. It was more like a nightmare.”
Kevin placed an arm around her shoulders. “You’re going to be okay. You’re safe now. You and your bundle of joy. Jacob’s dead, you have a friend in the FBI, and no one’s going to ever hurt you or your baby again.”
She must have gone white because Kevin jumped off the couch and hovered over her like a mother hen.
“What is it?” he said, his voice rising.
“The baby!”
Kevin’s eyes darted to her stomach as his voice rose a whole octave. “What, are you in labor again? Oh God, it’s too early for that. Isn’t it?”
Gulliver jumped up with a hiss.
“Kevin, sit down. You’re scaring Gulliver. I’m not in labor,” she said firmly.
“Then what is it?” he insisted as he sat next to her once more. “You look like you are going to pass out.”
“It’s the baby. Jacob has already sold it. He took a deposit for it. I told him to call the person, but the phone lines were dead. What if they find me? What if they try to take my baby?” She could feel her anxiety building, but she couldn’t control it. She reached for the purse and opened it for him to see.
Kevin looked inside the purse and cocked his head. “You’re walking around with that and you let me pay for your clothes?”
“I couldn’t chance opening the purse at the mall. Besides, I told you I’ll pay you back.”
“I’m not worried about that. I was just giving you a hard time. You didn’t tell your FBI friend about the cash?”
“He knows I took some, but not how much. He knows it was ill-gotten, but not how. Maybe I should have told him about Jacob selling our baby.”
“Perhaps, but then again, I’ve always felt it best to follow your gut, and for some reason, your momma bear instincts told you not to.” Kevin placed his hands on her shoulders and held her gaze. “Abby, you are my best friend, and that baby is probably the closest I will ever come to having a child of my own. I will protect it like a mother tigress protects her cubs.”
“No, I can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous. This is my mess, not yours. I can’t ask you to get involved,” Abby protested.
Kevin firmed his grip on her shoulders, his eyes pleading with hers. “I got involved the minute I smashed the lamp over the goon’s head. In case you’ve forgotten, I killed a man for you. I can only hope the flood washed him away, but if not… Bottom line, we are in this together. You, me, and our baby!”
“Ahem.”
Kevin let go of her shoulders and scrambled to his feet to face the man who’d just entered. Aside from the plucked eyebrows, spiked hair, and a preference for pink clothing, there was a slight resemblance between the two.
Kevin smiled at Abby. “Abby, this is my dad, Edward Bishop. Dad, this is Abby. She is going to be staying here for a bit.”
This was obviously news to the man, who arched an unmanicured brow and spoke in a decidedly lower voice. “Is that so?”
“Yes, just until we find a place to stay,” Kevin assured him. “We’ll be taking Gulliver with us.”
“We’ll discuss all of that later. First, I’d like to know a bit about the mother of my grandchild.” Edward glanced at Abby’s stomach and then directed his attention to his son. “Since it looks as though we still have a bit of time to deal with that, I reckon we’ll start by having you tell me about the dead body you left in New Orleans and why I am just now hearing about it.”
“That would be bodies,” Abby corrected.
To his credit, the man did not flinch. Of course not. Kevin said he was a retired police officer; the man had probably heard it all. Abby watched as he pulled up a chair, turned it around, and sat facing them.
“Let’s take this from the beginning,” Edward said in a steady voice that spoke of years of practice.
Chapter Thirteen
Abby spent the better part of an hour telling Edward and Kevin everything she could recall from the moment she’d arrived in New Orleans until her arrival in Virginia. While she’d left out some key points when telling the story to Jefferies, as painful as the truth was, she didn’t hold back this time. Both Kevin and Edward remained silent, only weighing in when they needed something she said clarified. “God, how could I have been so stupid?” she said when she’d finished. “Looking back, there were so many red flags.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Little Missy. The man was a master manipulator. You saw only what he wanted you to see,” Edward said.
“You should have asked me. I could have told you the man was a Dick,” Kevin said sourly.
Edward shot his son a dirty look and then turned his attention to Abby once more. “I’ve heard a lot of strange things on the job, but this one takes the cake. I can see where your man Jefferies would be unsettled. We are taught to think outside the box, but I don’t remember this scenario being taught at the academy. I’ve heard of guys dreaming about their cases or having victims haunt their dreams, but this … this is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.”
“That’s because it’s voodoo, Dad. You wouldn’t know, because you’ve never been to New Orleans. God knows I’ve tried to get you to come for a visit.”
“That’s enough, Kevin,” Edward replied.
Kevin crossed his legs and wrapped his slender fingers around his knees. “I’m just saying that maybe if you’d have come, you might have a better feel for the black magic.”
Edward started to comment. Abby cut him off. “Kevin, why don’t you tell your father what happened to Merrick?” It wasn’t that she needed or wanted to hear the details of the man’s demise, but something told her Edward needed to know how far his son had gone to protect her.
Kevin uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in his chair. As he spoke, his hands moved to emphasize each sordid detail. “I knew something was wrong just by the sound of Abby’s voice, so I tiptoed to the front window. Sure enough, the goon was no longer in his car. I knew he must be inside, and that if I came down, he’d kill us both. Obviously, I didn’t want that to happen, so I went out the window. I shim…I mean, jumped to the porch and used the front pillars to climb down. My foot hit one of the planters and I knew I was done for. I held my breath, but the goon never came out. I snuck inside and heard him saying God-awful things to poor Abby, and that’s when I bashed him over the head with the lamp.” Kevin grew tall in his chair, wiggling with delight. “I’m not going to lie, that felt good! I mean, that guy put off some seriously scary vibes.”
