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Authors: Jools Sinclair

BOOK: 44 Book Five
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I hung up without waiting for him to answer.

Kate came back and took her phone.

“Okay, Abby, I gotta get going.”

She moved closer and studied my face.

“You look better. I’m glad you got some good sleep.”

She started to leave but then stopped.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t get a chance to clean up last night. See what you can do. Looks like you were planning another dinner party or something.”

“What? Sure.”

“See you later, Abby.”

A few seconds later I heard the front door close.

I picked up my phone. It was out of juice. I plugged it in. I would have to call Rosie from work.

I got up and took a shower. I got dressed, put on a little makeup, and headed out to make some coffee.

My mouth dropped open as I stood in the doorway, staring at the kitchen.

Every cookbook in the pantry was out across the granite counter. All 22 of them, my entire collection. All opened to recipes with the corners folded over, black illegible scribbles from a fat marker on the pages.

This is what Kate was talking about. She thought I was planning another dinner party.

She thought I had done this. 

But it wasn’t me.

 

 

CHAPTER 40

 

I didn’t want to scare Kate, but she had to know about the break in. I tried to text her but the message wouldn’t go through. I knew she was busy all morning. I would try her again later.

Someone must have broken in. It was the only possible answer.

It must be connected to what Jesse had been talking about.

Someone was after me, and they had broken into the house last night.

I shivered at the thought as I drove to work. Jack Martin was locked up, but maybe there were more. Maybe there were others who wanted to continue Nathaniel Mortimer’s experiments.

I walked in and said hello to Lyle who was at the register with a customer. He gave me an odd look.

“Hi, Abby,” he said finally. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I said, a little flustered. “I’ll be up here in a minute.”

I put on my apron as Mike came up, scratching at his beard.

“So, ah, Abby,” he said. “What happened to you yesterday?”

“Happened? What do you mean?”

“You never showed up for your shift. You didn’t call in or anything. We left a bunch of messages.”

I shook my head.

“I was here yesterday. Remember? I stocked the storeroom and did inventory. I signed in and everything. I was working with Lyle.”

Lyle was eavesdropping and walked over.

“No,” he said. “That was the day before. I wasn’t even working yesterday.”

“What? No, that was yesterday.”

“Lyle, can you help the next customer?” Mike said.

I followed Mike into the back where he shuffled through papers and handed me the timesheet. I searched for my name, relieved when I found it. I showed him.

“Abby,” Mike said. “That was for Wednesday.”

“Yeah.Yesterday. I was here.”

“No. It’s Friday today. Yesterday, on Thursday, you never showed up for your shift.”

As I stared at the paper, his words sank in.

“So, today is Friday?” I asked slowly.

He nodded.

What was I doing yesterday? I couldn’t remember. Everything was fuzzy.

“Mike, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I must have just gotten mixed up. I wasn’t thinking, I guess.”

“That’s okay,” he said, rubbing his beard again. “It happens. No worries. Mo came in and covered for you. Mostly, we were worried ‘cause we couldn’t reach you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah. Sorry again. I really don’t know what happened.”

 

***

 

During my break I tried to check my messages, but there was something wrong with my phone. It had power and I could see that I had several messages, but I couldn’t access them. My fingers felt strange. Puffy or something.

“I just don’t understand it,” I said to Mike later.

“It’s okay, Abby,” he said. “Really, it’s no big deal.”

When Mo came in, I thanked her for covering for me.

“Sorry, I just spaced out.”

“Been there,” she said.

David showed up for the last two hours of my shift. I was happy to see him.

I told him about Paloma being gone.

“I’ll make a few calls,” he said. “Maybe some of my peeps have seen her.”

I thought that almost 24 hours had passed since Rosie had seen her last. She would probably be able to file a missing persons report. Whatever good that would do.

I had to try to find Jesse again.

It had felt like only a few minutes had passed since I started my shift. But the clock didn’t lie. It was time to go home.

I walked through the door and took out my phone. It still wasn’t working.

David was out in front on a break.

“I’ll call you later if I hear anything,” he said. “Oh, and I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do, but if I did I would tell you that you better apologize to Mo when you see her. Or give her a call tonight. Girlfriend was pissed off and you don’t want her stewing, believe you me.”

“What do you mean apologize?” I said, stopping and looking at him. “I already thanked her for covering for me yesterday.”

“No, not that,” he said. “Something you said to her earlier while you guys were in the back.”

“But I was never even in the back,” I said. “I was out helping customers all day.”

David’s face broke out in a huge grin.

“Boy, someone needs to get home and get some rest, Abby Craig,” he said. “You were back there doing inventory for like hours. Mo said she went to help out and you went all Miami Cannibal on her and chewed her head off. Called her a bunch of names. She was steamed.”

I still didn’t know what he was talking about. I shook my head and walked to the parking lot.

I drove down the street, thinking what a strange day it had been. It started raining again. My stomach was suddenly woozy. I stopped the Jeep and kicked open the door and then threw up in the street.

“What’s going on?” I whispered, bent over in the rain.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and rubbed my face on my sleeve, the stench of vomit all around.

 

 

CHAPTER 41

 

I walked into the house, my head pounding.

“Abby, where have you been? Ty called. He’s looking for you.”

I walked past Kate and stared at the television.

“You’re all wet. Have you been out in the rain? Are you okay?”

She reached over and put her icy hand on my head.

“Oh, my God, you’re burning up,” she said. “Abby, you’re sick. I’ll be right back. I’m getting the thermometer.”

“I’m fine,” I said to her back.

I heard heavy rain on the roof, the sound of it tearing through my skull. I sat on the sofa, but slipped off the leather onto the floor.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” was the last thing I remembered saying.

 

***

Ty pulled me closer.

“You’ll be okay,” he said.

An old movie was playing in the background. I put my ear to his chest and listened to his heartbeat. I felt safe.

“This is the best I’ve felt all day,” I said.

I could hear the rain still, on the rooftop, on the window.

“Here, put this blanket around you. You’re shaking.”

“I think she’s dead. I don’t think she could survive him. He’s too powerful. She’s out there dead somewhere.”

“Shhh,” Ty said. “Just rest. I’ll be back in the morning.”

I was in bed suddenly, darkness around me.

I was hot.

So hot.

Like I was in hell.

 

 

CHAPTER 42

 

I sat up, dizzy, my stomach nauseous again, my throat hurting. My head burning.

“Kate?” I whispered.

I was in bed and I must have been sleeping for hours, since getting home. I was in my pajamas, the volume from the small TV low.

“Kate?” I said again, throwing the covers off.

I was soaked in sweat. I heard her slippers on the wood floor.

“Abby, you’re up,” she said, pushing pillows behind me. “How are you feeling?”

Her eyes were wide and crazy, studying me.

“Like shit on a stick,” I said. “I guess I have the flu.”

“Such a mouth,” Ty said and smiled, taking my hand.

“You’re here,” I said.

“Of course. Kate called me and I came over after work.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost midnight,” he said. “Do you need anything? I’m going to the store.”

“No,” I said.

“Get some rest and I’ll see you in a little while,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I love you, Abby. Try and feel better.”

 

***

 

“Your temperature was up to 103. But you’re cooler now.”

I nodded.

“That’s a good sign,” she said. “Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head.

“Here. Drink some water,” she said. “And then I’ll help you change.”

I sat up, letting her guide my arms and legs into shorts and a T-shirt. I started coughing and shivering as I laid back down while Kate pulled heavy covers over me.

I couldn’t think straight, big black holes in the middle of my thoughts with everything spinning like I was on one of those rides at a fair. Up, up, up in the air, spinning and lost in the sky, spinning and lost.

Spinning.

My arms and legs ached. It felt like I had been running for days. Weeks. My whole life.

 

 

CHAPTER 43

 

I woke up with mud on my feet and rain on my face. I was shivering, standing outside. Lost.

“No! Abby!” she yelled, her words echoing in my ears over and over again. “Don’t do it! Put down the shovel! Put it down!”

I shook my head. Kate was standing in front of me, horror in her eyes. We stood in the rain.

“Kate?” I screamed. “What’s the matter? Why are we outside?”

But she didn’t answer me.

“Abby,” she said again. “Abby, put the shovel down. Drop it. Now!”

What was she talking about? But then I followed my arms up to my hands and saw it.

“Just put it down,” she repeated.

We were standing in the backyard, the rain coming down in sheets. I didn’t want to let it go, didn’t want to let it fall from my hands.

I inhaled, looked up, and let the rain hit my face.

And threw it down behind me.

“Good,” she said. “Now, take my hand.”

We stumbled to the house, like we were drunk. I bent over and threw up in the mud.

“Come on, Abby,” she yelled again. “You need to get inside.”

I just stood there. I couldn’t feel my feet or my hands. I couldn’t feel anything. I tried to breathe, but couldn’t, couldn’t move. The light from the porch burned into my eyes, the smell of mud strong in my nostrils.

Kate was holding a gun.

“You can’t shoot me anymore!” I heard someone shout.

“What are you saying, Abby?” she said, putting it in her pocket. “Take it easy.”

“Leave me alone,” I said as she dragged me over the grass, through the kitchen, down the hallway. “Leave me alone. Get your filthy hands off of me, whore!”

 

***

 

I crept to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run over my hands and splashing some of its cool sweetness on my face, on my neck, in my hair.

“Better,” I said in a low voice. “Much, much better.”

I looked in the mirror.

Those stark eyes, the scar running down my face, the mustache.

Handsome as ever.

 

***

 

I opened my eyes and didn’t recognize where I was.

The dark hallway smelled of coffin varnish, as though the wooden floors had been soaking the whiskey up for decades upon decades. The strong smell of tobacco lingered in the air, along with the stench of sweat. And other bodily fluids.

I stood in the shadows, waiting for someone.

The sound of laughing and yelling erupted from downstairs, drowning out the piano music for a few moments.

I felt different. Strong, like my hands could crush whatever they came in contact with. Like I could bend whatever was between my hands to my liking. As if they were made out of iron.

I heard her coming up the stairs, her heels heavy and leaden against the wooden steps.

The sight of her made the blood in my veins turn to liquid fire. An anger more intense than I’d ever known rushed through me.

But it wasn’t uncontrollable anger. It was a perfect rage. I was in charge of it. Completely. It bent to my will.

She walked past me, her long lace dress dragging on the floor. She was alone. She didn’t see me.

As she opened the door to her room, I lunged out of the shadows and took her by the arm, squeezing it with my grip of pure iron.

“I know you’ve been holding out on me, Inez,” I said, tightening my fingers.

She screamed and looked at me with desperate, animal eyes. The terror made me smile. Her eyes pleaded for a mercy that would never come.

“No,” she blubbered. “I promise you. I wouldn’t do that to you, Clyde. You take care of me.”

“Where’s the money, whore?” I said, pushing her into the room.

She cried out and collapsed down on the floor.

“Why would I do that to you? You let me stay here in your hotel. Why would I keep money from you?”

“Don’t lie to me, slut,” I said, the anger growing stronger.

“I’m not,” she sobbed. “I’m telling you the truth.”

But I knew she was lying. She was like all the rest. Cutting corners and sloppily planning their great escapes. Trying to steal what was mine and make a fool of me. Trying to rob me behind my back.

I wouldn’t stand for it. My iron hands were the instrument of my justice.

I grabbed her and made her stand up.

Soon, they were around her, squeezing tighter and tighter. Her large brown eyes bulged out of their sockets. I wanted to hold a mirror up to them so they could see what she had brought upon herself. I wanted those eyes to witness the wrong of what she’d done. I wanted her to know. I wanted her to pay.

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