Sinister Winds (Storm Series Book 2), page 16
Abby felt her pulse quicken. Long ride... where was he taking her? For that matter, how had he found her in the first place? “Nate,” she said, trying to sound calm. “How did you find me?”
A laugh escaped him as he adjusted the towel. “It’s simple actually. I lost track of you after the storm. I did a search of your house. It was easy to deduce what had happened. They hadn’t found ole Jacob yet, so it was easy to get into the house and have a look around. Pity you couldn’t have seen the fruit of your efforts. The man looked pretty disgusting after spending all that time in the water. Smelled even worse.” His nose crinkled with disgust.
Abby watched his face with a mingle of relief and disgust as she pictured Jacob’s bloated and rotting body. Her knees went weak.
Nathan tightened his hold on her. Pulling her up, he opened the door and guided her onto the porch. “Now we are going to walk to the van, nice and easy like. Just like I said. A happy couple on their way out for a drive.”
She glanced at the tree crew working on the other side of the street and considered calling out to them.
“Don’t even think of it. Unless...you get your kicks out of seeing people die.” He removed the gun he’d held at the small of her back. Resting it on her shoulder, he took aim at one of the old men in the bucket. “It would be so easy. Click, click, click, three dead old guys. What do you say, Abby? Do you think I should put them out of their misery? Surely they don’t like going to work every day at their advanced age. We’d probably be doing them all a favor.”
She swallowed, remembering the kindness of the men only moments before. It dawned on her they might wonder what she’d done with the dog.
“No! No,” she said more calmly. “Please leave them be...I will go with you.”
“Good girl,” he said, lowering the gun. “Now we will walk to the van and chat as if everything is just dandy.”
She nodded her agreement and they started across the street. Nathan looped his arm through hers, keeping her close.
“Searching the house could not have led you here,” Abby said, picking up the earlier discussion.
“No, your boyfriend did. You see, I was looking out the window and saw a body. Turned out it belonged to Merrick. You’d have thought all that water would have washed him away, wouldn’t you? Lucky for me, his body got caught up in the bushes.” Nathan led her around to the passenger’s side and opened the door. “You and your boyfriend are not really very good at this, are you? You’re supposed to get rid of the bodies after you do away with them.”
“I’ll try to remember that in the future,” she said, sliding into the seat.
“After I realized you two were in cahoots, it didn’t take much digging to find out where his old man lived. I took a chance that you’d be joining him. People are so predictable.” He held the gun on her as he fastened the seat belt across her tethered arms.
“Smile.”
“What?”
“One of the old dudes is looking this way. I want you to smile so he can see everything is okay.”
She did as she was told.
“Okay, now kiss me,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“Not on your life!” she said, narrowing her eyes.
He looked past her, bringing the gun up. “What about on theirs?”
“You’re a sadist,” she said, faking a smile.
“Baby, you have no idea. Oh, and in case you are planning your escape, I just thought you should know that I called the cops after I left New Orleans. I told them where to find Jacob’s body and let them know I’d witnessed some marital troubles between you and your husband. I told them I figured you killed the man and used the storm as a cover.”
She felt the blood drain from her face as the gravity of her situation hit her and realized she had no proof to the contrary. She would end up in jail, and the baby would be taken away. Any scenario she played in her mind ended the same. It appeared she and her baby were destined to be separated. Nathan leaned in and kissed her. She just sat there, numb, not offering to kiss him back.
“I can see we really do need to work on your man-pleasing techniques. If you treat your future owner like that, he will demand his money back. I have a reputation to uphold,” he said before closing the door.
She watched helplessly as he walked around the front of the van, opened the driver’s side door, and got in. He slipped the keys into the ignition and started the van, placing it into gear.
“You know the rules, Darling,” he said, easing his foot off the brake.
His words sent a chill along her spine. He sounded so much like Jacob that she panicked, screaming and fighting against her restraints. The van surged forward, causing one of the tree guys to jump out of the way. Suddenly, a loud thump hit the roof. Nathan slammed on the brakes, sending a body tumbling over the windshield and onto the hood. Abby screamed, “Edward!”
Edward held on to the wiper blades in a struggle to keep from falling to the ground.
A sadistic smile played across Nathan’s face as he calmly placed the van into park, opened the door, and fired.
Abby screamed as Edward sank down the length of the hood, disappearing from sight. Nathan turned and pointed the pistol in her direction. A loud gunshot pierced the air, sending Nathan backward. His gun discharged as he fell, shattering the window beside her. Abby screamed as her door jerked open.
“It’s okay, Abby,” the man said as he hurried to unbuckle her seatbelt and used a blade to cut the ropes. She now recognized the man as Gary, one of the men from the bucket truck. The bucket! She remembered the sound on the roof just before Edward slid into sight. Edward had been the second man in the bucket of the truck. The one who had always kept his face from view. The one who had leaped from his perch to save her.
“Edward!” she said, pushing her way past Gary and rounding the van. She found him lying in front of the van with a gunshot wound to the chest.
Soaked in blood, he struggled to breathe. “I saved you, Little Missy, didn’t I?”
Sinking to the ground, she placed his head on her lap. “Yes, you did,” she sobbed.
Gary returned to the van, reappearing a moment later, handing her the towel, which she pressed into the wound.
The third man, Rob, the one who had loaned her the dog, appeared into view with Nathan, who was cuffed and bleeding from the shoulder.
Nathan groaned as the man tugged on the cuffs without any regard for his wound. He emitted a wicked laugh as they began to lead him away and then glared at Abby.
“I assure you it’s far from over. There are others, you know! They will come for you! You will never be safe. Your child is marked. Your child will never be yours!” he cried out as he was led away.
Abby cradled Edward’s head in her lap, pressing the towel to his chest as he struggled for air.
“Are you still there, girl?” Edward said between gasps.
“I’m here, Edward,” she said, sobbing. She heard the familiar whine of the Mini Cooper and watched as the car slid to a stop. Kevin took in the situation as he raced toward them.
“You tell my son I saved you. Will you?” Edward said between breaths. “You tell him I am proud of him.” Edward closed his eyes as Kevin reached them.
Keven sank beside her and pulled his father close. “I’m here, Pop. You tell me yourself.”
Edward opened his eyes and forced a smile. “I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, but you were never one of them.”
“I love you, Dad,” Kevin said. Tears streamed down his face as he clutched his father to his chest.
“I love you too, son. I nearly missed the chance to tell you how proud I am of you,” Edward said through wheezing breaths.
“Hang on, Dad, help will be here soon,” Kevin pleaded.
“Abby, are you still here, girl?” Edward asked, groping the ground with his free hand.
“I’m here, Dad,” she said, clasping the hand.
“You take care of my son. He needs a strong woman in his life whether he realizes it or not.”
“I’ll always be here for him,” she promised.
“Kevin?” The name came out in a whisper.
“I’m still here, Dad,” Kevin said, leaning closer.
“You take care of Abby too. She needs a strong man.”
“I will, Pop,” Kevin promised.
“Don’t cry, son. This is a good day; I always wanted to die on the job.” Edward took one final breath, and the blood-stained towel stood perfectly still.
***
Abby was not sure how long they’d sat there, her holding on to Edward’s hand, Kevin lying on the ground next to him, both keeping him company until they were peeled away from his blood-soaked body. It was only when she’d been led to the house that she realized the house was now crammed with people. She was guided to the sofa, which she gratefully accepted. Gulliver jumped onto her lap and sniffed her with disdain before hissing and scurrying away. It was only then that she realized she herself was covered in Edward’s blood.
“I killed him,” she said, staring at her hands.
“You killed who?”
She looked toward the voice and saw a woman with blonde hair sitting across from her. Abby frowned. “Do I know you?”
The woman flashed a badge and then held her pen, ready to jot down anything Abby said. “My name is Detective Remmy. We met when they brought you inside a few moments ago. You were telling me what happened.”
Abby looked out the window, watching Kevin, who hovered near his father, while paramedics loaded the man onto a gurney. Kevin dropped to his knees as the paramedic pulled the sheet across his father’s prone body. Abby started to rise and felt a hand on her shoulder.
“He will be okay.” The woman’s words floated around her like a fog.
Abby blinked, not comprehending. “What?”
“I’m sorry, but I need to ask you some questions,” Detective Remmy said firmly. “You said you killed him? Are you talking about your husband?”
“No, Edward. I didn’t pull the trigger, but he is dead because of me,” Abby said.
The detective jotted something on the paper. “Could you elaborate?”
Abby heard the dog bark. “The dog has someone in the backyard,” Abby said, getting up. She walked to the back window and looked out to see Rob and Gary standing beside two uniformed officers. Gary was holding tight to Killer’s leash as Snake gestured wildly in the direction of the house.
“Why did the tree guys have guns?” Abby asked.
“They were friends of Mr. Bishop. They all retired from the force a long time ago. Apparently, they were all doing surveillance, posing as tree guys to get a better view of the house.”
“Edward was the third guy. He jumped onto the van to save me,” Abby said, turning to her.
“Yes, Mr. Bishop was also involved in the stakeout,” Detective Remmy confirmed.
“They saved my life,” Abby said, choking up.
“Your friend doesn’t look too happy,” Detective Remmy said, peering out the window.
Abby followed her gaze. The detective was right. Snake looked even more agitated than before.
“He doesn’t like big dogs,” Abby replied. She reached to wipe her face, saw the blood on her hands, and moved to the sink. Turning on the water, she picked up the bar of soap and thrust her hands under the stream. “I should have gotten a big dog.”
Detective Remmy moved up beside her. “Excuse me?”
“Snake doesn’t like big dogs,” she repeated.
“So it appears,” the woman said, staring out the window.
“If I’d have gotten a big dog, then maybe Edward would still be alive.” Abby pulled her hands from the sink and examined them. Satisfied, she pulled the towel from the hook and dried her arms. Then, seeing her shirt, she stuck the towel under the faucet and then wrung it out before making a futile attempt at removing the blood from her blouse. Unable to clean the shirt, she tossed the towel in the sink and went back to the table, lowering herself into her chair. “They say the baby can hear what goes on around it even while it is in the womb. Do you think that’s true?”
Detective Remmy joined her at the table. “There is enough craziness for children to have to deal with after they’re born. I would like to think a baby is protected while in the womb.”
Abby reached into her pocket and pulled out the chicken’s foot. She studied it, relieved that the blood had not penetrated the talon. “Pearl told me my child would be born with protection.”
Detective Remmy watched her with interest. “Pearl?”
“She was the voodoo priestess I met in New Orleans after my husband had her sister killed.”
Detective Remmy’s eyes grew round. “Mrs. Buckley, I think we should finish this conversation down at the station.”
Chapter Eighteen
As Abby looked around the small room, the walls felt as if they were closing in on her. She’d never been claustrophobic before, but then, she’d never been in an interrogation room either. She shifted in her seat for the hundredth time, trying unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position in the hard plastic chair. She’d watched enough television to know she was being watched. Her gaze came to rest on the large mirror, the only decoration in the otherwise sterile room.
Show yourselves! she willed, peering at the glass. Her silent demand went unanswered, and she tore her gaze from the glass. A sudden urge to extend her arms to see if she could touch the walls struck her. This was nothing like the inquisition rooms they showed on TV. There was no table. No clock so she could gauge how much time had passed. Just a room, a mirror, and two chairs. One chair was padded and looked rather comfortable. The other, the one she’d been assigned, was hard, without so much as a chair cushion. She contemplated moving to the padded chair, figuring whoever was watching her would not want her to get too comfortable; therefore, doing so would probably move things along. Not only was she ready to get this over with, but she also desperately had to pee.
She had been in the room for what seemed like hours, speaking with Detective Remmy and answering the same questions over and over. It was amazing how many ways one could ask the same question. At least the detective saw fit to read Abby her rights on the way to the station.
The baby kicked, reminding her of the seriousness of her situation as a vision of giving birth in a prison cell came to mind, sending a chill down her spine. She looked about the room once more, her heartbeat increasing as she realized the room she now found uncomfortably small was probably larger than the prison cell she’d likely spend the rest of her days in. The baby stretched against her bladder. Abby adjusted in her seat once more and placed her hands on her abdomen to comfort both herself and her unborn child. Another kick greeted her embrace. What am I going to do with you, little one? The thought pulled at her heart. Moms were supposed to protect their children. She wondered if there were programs that would allow her to keep her child with her in prison. Probably not, or women in similar circumstances would be more likely to commit crimes to evade their abuser. She couldn’t let her daughter go into the system. According to both Jacob and Nathan, there were others out there with their sights on her daughter. If her baby were to go into foster care, it was only a matter of time before they found her.
Kevin. He said he would give his life to protect the baby. Would he still feel that way if she wasn’t around to help with the baby’s care? Would he even agree, now that she had literally led a killer to his door? She recalled Kevin sitting in the street crying while his father died in his arms. How could she ask him to raise her baby, knowing she was the reason for his father’s death? Because you have no other choice.
The baby stretched, and she thought of Pearl. Her hand instinctively went in search of the chicken foot, then she remembered someone had taken it from her when they searched her before leading her to the room. She tugged at the bloody shirt she had on, wishing they had taken that as well. Then she thought of Mr. Jefferies and wondered if he’d ever gotten her message. If she’d only been forthcoming with him in the first place…
The door opened, startling her. A man she’d not seen before entered the room carrying a manila file folder that she had no doubt held the evidence that would seal her fate. The door clicked shut as he took the empty seat across from her. She thought about asking for an attorney but knew the attention of a long, drawn-out trial would bring in the press and lead to stories that would attract the attention of those looking to come for her child. Though they might find her daughter eventually, she would do nothing to make it easy for them. Abby steadied herself, wondering if she should save him the trouble and just admit to murdering her husband. Her eyes cut to the mirror, and she wondered who was on the other side. She opened her mouth to ask but thought better of it. She’d come this far; maybe she should just hear what the man had to say.
The newcomer leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and let the file rest on his lap unopened. “Mrs. Buckley, I’m Detective Kyle Rivers. Do you know why we have you here?”
Abby sighed, knowing the guy was probably Detective Remmy’s partner stepping in to ask the same questions she’d just answered. She searched the man’s face and wondered if he was supposed to be the good cop or the bad cop. Either way, he didn’t look like much of a threat. With dark hair clipped so short there was no need for a comb, large brown owl eyes filled with excitement, and a boyish face not yet hardened from years on the job, he looked more like a Sunday school teacher. On one hand, she was pleased they’d sent a baby to interrogate her. On the other hand, his lack of a smile gave her pause. Wrapping her arms even tighter around her abdomen, she shook her head. “No, sir,” she lied.
“You were pulled from your rooftop after Hurricane Katrina. Is that correct?” he said solemnly.
“That is correct,” she confirmed, answering a question that had already been asked and acknowledged multiple times since being in the room.
“Where were you taken?”
“To the airport in New Orleans. Later, they took me to Mississippi, where I spent nearly two weeks in the hospital treated for extreme dehydration and early labor,” she added, then chided herself for giving more information than was asked for.
