Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series (10 page)

“
Thank you, sweetheart,” she said gently, and he nodded. She punched in numbers then held it close. “She’s not answering.” She clicked the phone off and laid it beside her.

“
She’s not ready yet.”

“
When will she be ready?”

“
You tell me.”

“
I don’t know. I don’t know what she’s feeling, or what she’s thinking.”

“
Then let’s give her some space.”

Bobbi crossed her arms across her chest and shook her head. “You have turned a hundred and eighty degrees from yesterday.”

“
Because yesterday I was wrong.”

Just then, the phone rang and Bobbi snatched it up, then paled. “It’s the police,” she whispered. “I can’t . . .”

Chuck took the phone from her trembling hands. “This is Chuck Molinsky.”

“
Yes sir, you have the law firm?”

“
Benton, Davis and Molinsky, yes. Why? What happened?”

“
Your building’s been broken into. We need you to come and give us an idea what’s missing.”

He held the phone against his chest and took Bobbi’s hand. “It’s okay. Somebody broke into the office, that’s all.”

“
That’s all?”

“
Compared to whatever ran through your mind right now, it’s nothing.”

“
You need to get down there.” She pulled her hand back and stood up, steeling herself.

“
I can call Chad.”

“
No . . . Shannon will be home soon. You need to take care of this. I’ll be fine.”

“
Call me when she gets home.”

“
I will.” She kissed his cheek. “The minute she walks through the door.”

* * *

Shannon stuffed the envelope full of cash deep in her purse. Withdrawing her tuition money as cash wasn’t the brightest thing, she admitted, but she might need the money in the coming weeks and couldn’t risk her dad shutting the account down. Monday she’d open a new account at a different bank.

“
What else do you need?” Dylan asked as he pulled out of the bank’s parking lot.

“
Just the basics. A car, a place to stay and a job.”

“
Thought you had a car.”

“
Jack’s hand-me-down? No thanks. And the bookstore will be one of the first places my dad will check, so I can’t go back there.”

“
You don’t need a place to stay.” He grinned and looked over the top of his sunglasses at her.

“
Dylan, I cannot stay with you. Let’s grab something to eat and pick up a newspaper. I’m sure there are decent apartments around.”

“
What are you gonna do for a bed?”

Subtle. Real subtle. Slimeball. “Furnished apartment.”

“
I gotta hand it to you, Shannon. This was a bold move, kissing off your parents that way.”

“
Not my parents, just my dad.”

“
He must have said some really harsh things.”

Harsh, no. Her father was a first-class hypocrite, deflecting attention away from himself by harping on her, the disrespectful wild child. He’d never acknowledge the role Jack played in dragging Brad out on that street. Oh no, poor Jack was grieving. She wasn’t about to stay there.

“
Look, I don’t want to talk about that now,” Shannon said, staring out the window of Dylan’s car.

“
You don’t have to,” Dylan said, reaching across and putting a hand on her knee. “It’s all cool.”

* * *

Bobbi clicked the phone off and crossed another name off her list. Shannon had been gone for six hours and no one had seen her. With Chuck still gone, she paced, gulped coffee and dialed Shannon’s phone every fifteen minutes. The little reassurances she been whispering to herself all morning were losing their effectiveness.

This wasn’t like Shannon. There was more than grief at work here. And she couldn’t dismiss it as just anger at Chuck. Bobbi knew that feeling of trapped desperation. She knew what it was like to be drowning and smothering at the same time, but yet be incapable of reaching for a lifeline. Shannon was there, and Bobbi was only a few steps behind her.

Chuck worried about a curse. There was no curse, just a mother who couldn’t function, who couldn’t parent when her baby needed her. Paralyzed by her grief, she abandoned Shannon the very same way her father abandoned her.

* * *

As the minutes continued to tick by without a phone call from Bobbi, Chuck found it nearly impossible to focus on his office inventory. He brought Chad and Christine in to help him talk to the police but never mentioned what they were dealing with at home. They naturally assumed he was distraught over the break-in. Hardly. So some punks stole a half dozen computers. Insurance would replace the machines, and all the sensitive files were off-site on the server.

When Chad volunteered to stay and help the IT guys get the office back online, Chuck couldn’t get to his car quickly enough. He blasted back toward home until he got to the park. Chuck rolled through it three or four times, zigging back and forth, willing Shannon to appear. When she didn’t, he wheeled the car around and headed home.

What could he possibly tell Bobbi? He was certain, in the depths of his soul, that Shannon would be home by now. And he was wrong. How could he tell her everything would be okay when he no longer knew that?

You brought this on all of us. . . . Everyone has paid because of you. . . .

Chuck was all too familiar with the story of David and Bathsheba, and the judgment God levied on them after their adulterous affair—the death of their child, then violence and rebellion plagued their family.

He and Bobbi had just lost a son through violence and now Shannon was playing the part of Absalom in open defiance of him. He couldn’t dismiss the connection.

You brought this on all of us. . . .

He saw Bobbi peering out the front window when he pulled into the driveway and she was on the porch before he got out of the car. The fear in her eyes spoke more than words ever could. “Call Joel,” he said.

“
He’s on his way.” She fell into his arms and clung to him. “What about your office?”

“
Nothing major. Computers, the conference room TV. Insurance will cover it. The agent’s already been there.”

“
I called . . . half her graduating class, I think. Left a message at Kara’s.”

“
That was good thinking.” He kissed her forehead and led her inside. “Rita and Gavin?”

“
I hadn’t yet. I guess . . . I guess I should. Did the police . . . I mean, did you think to ask them . . .”

“
She’s eighteen. She’s not a runaway. She’s not a missing person yet, and unless we suspect she’s in danger—”

“
What if we do?”

“
Then they’ll take a statement, but they’re not gonna comb the city.”

“
So they won’t do anything?”

“
It’s just a woman having a disagreement with her father.”

She pushed away from him. “Why do we have police? Why do we even have them? Brad gets shot, Shannon disappears and—”

“
Honey—”

“
No, Chuck, I am at my limit. And if anything happens to Shannon . . . you’ll be burying me beside Brad.”

* * *

Shannon clutched the key and the paperwork for the used Civic. It was a little more than she hoped to pay, but it was a Honda. Reliability mattered now. On Monday, she’d buy her own insurance, and that would make it official.

“
All set?” Dylan flipped his phone closed and slid off the hood of his car.

“
Yep. Thanks for your help.”

“
No prob. I still feel like I owe you.”

She felt her face flush when he smiled at her. Stupid involuntary reactions. “I’m gonna start checking out apartments, so I guess I’ll catch you later.”

He dropped his head and kicked at a rock. “I know you don’t need my help, but . . . I mean, I just like hanging out with you.”

“
You want to follow me around looking at apartments?”

“
Yeah. Is that bad?”

“
Yes! It looks really bad. Like I’m looking for a place to shack up.”

“
I know better.”

“
But the landlords don’t.”

“
Just tell them I’m your brother.”

“
That’s even less believable.”

“
I’ll sit in the car and wait for you.”

“
That’s ridiculous. Why would you want to spend the afternoon sitting in your car in apartment complex parking lots?”

“
You’ll think it’s stupid.” He shuffled back toward his car, jingling his keys.

“
What?” She took a couple of quick steps to catch up with him.

“
I got you in really big trouble, but you don’t hate me. I’m not used to somebody treating me that way. You’re different . . . special, you know.”

“
You mean that?”

“
Well, yeah.”

His eyes twinkled when he smiled this time, and Shannon suddenly felt dizzy. Dylan Snider thought she was special. Dylan, the party boy who could have any girl he wanted, and he wanted to spend the day with her. A very boring day at that.

Her dad would totally blow a gasket if he knew she was with Dylan again. Imagine what he’d say if she started dating Dylan. She smiled. “So . . . are you just gonna follow me then?” she asked.

“
Anywhere,” he said.

He rested his elbows on his open car door, his face just inches from hers. He wanted to kiss her. Should she . . . ? Just then, her phone tweeted the arrival of a text message. “Ugh!” she muttered, digging through her purse until she found her phone. “My stupid brother.” She deleted the message without reading it.

* * *

Jack sighed and snapped his phone closed. Shannon wasn’t going to reply, even to an apology. Now his dad was back home, and there was no way he could watch them worry and wonder all afternoon. He had to confess.

He tromped down the steps and found them in the kitchen, his mother in her usual spot, with her usual cup of coffee, but carrying the weight of the world. His dad sat next to her holding her hand, his face drawn the way it was the day after Brad was killed. Even so, his dad looked up and smiled. “Hey, Jack. I wondered where you were.”

“
Mom, uh, Mom said the office got broken into,” Jack said, buying some time, trying to soften his dad up.

“
It was no big deal. You haven’t heard from Shannon, have you?”

Jack felt the breath press from his lungs. “Why would she call me or anything?”

“
Are you okay, sweetheart? You look a little pale.” His mother pushed a seat out for him. “Why don’t you sit.”

He slumped into the chair, certain they could see his pulse throbbing in his neck. “Mom . . . Dad . . . I . . . I mean, Shannon . . . It’s my fault she’s not home yet.”

“
What?” his dad whispered. “How is it . . . ?”

“
I heard what she said last night. About my mother. What she called her.”

Then his adopted mother reached over and squeezed his hand. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you heard such hateful—”

“
But see . . .” Jack pulled his hand back. “I wanted her to apologize—”

“
And she will—”

“
Mom, will you let me finish!” Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I took the spark plug wires from her car. It was childish and immature, and if I hadn’t done that, she would’ve been back by now.”

“
How’s that?” his dad asked.

“
She won’t answer my texts. She’s still ticked off.”

“
I don’t understand how this is your fault, son.”

“
I took a bad situation and made it worse.”

“
Sweetheart,” his mom took his hand again, “you didn’t. You have to believe me. Joel will be here any minute, and Aunt Rita and Uncle Gavin are on their way over. I need you to be strong and help us.” She swallowed hard and blinked back tears. “We can deal with whatever we have to when Shannon gets home.”

* * *

Chuck stole upstairs while Bobbi filled Joel, Rita and Gavin in on everything that had happened with Shannon in the past couple of weeks. He gently pulled Shannon’s note from its envelope, the envelope marked
Mom
and not
Mom and Dad
.

You brought this on all of us. . . .

He dropped the note on the desk. She was sorry. For what? The argument? No. If she was sorry for that, she would have apologized. To both of them. So what was she talking about? Unless . . .

He yanked the closet door open and his heart stopped. Coat hangers. A dozen of them. She wasn’t off pouting for the day, she’d left home.

Just remember that whatever happens, it’s your fault.

His fault. Bobbi downstairs at her emotional limit. His fault. Jack blaming himself. His fault. All these years and his office was broken into now. Right after Brad. His wife. His children. His job. He felt a stab of pain through his chest, and he gripped Shannon’s desk. His health, too?