Sleep No More (34 page)

He disconnected the call, put his phone on silent, and went to greet Mr. Brubecker, his first appointment of the day. He wasn't sure how in the hell he was going to keep his mind on his work with Bryce off who knew where and Abby running around alone.

During the session with Mr. Brubecker--who always spent at least the first twenty minutes complaining about his wife of forty years--Jason's eyes kept straying to his BlackBerry. It was on his desk, shielded from his patient's view by a stack of books.

Finally, a text message came in. He discreetly checked it.

Deputy Bigelow and I are having a party. Wish you were here.

Jason suppressed his smile and refocused on Mr. Brubecker, who was finally getting around to discussing his medical condition.

Two hours and three patients later, Jason broke for lunch. He hadn't heard from Abby telling him she was on her way back into town yet. He almost called her, but didn't want to delay her getting her work finished. He wanted her back here so he could keep a protective eye on her.

Silly, he thought, she was with a deputy sheriff, who should be perfectly capable of guarding her. But when it came to Abby, he trusted no one as much as he did himself. He was invested in ways no officer of the law performing his duty ever could be.

He tried to call Bryce again. When his son didn't answer, Jason texted him, betting he was more likely to read it than to check his voice mail.

You're busted. Call me ASAP.

Jason began to assemble a mental list of places he was going to search for his son if he didn't hear back from him by the end of the work day.

Just as he was headed from the kitchen to his office, he got the call from Abby. His heart lifted at the sound of her voice.

"All packed up and headed to Randall and Roberts. Deputy Bigelow and I just parted ways at the end of the lane. I should be at your house in forty-five minutes or so. I have to change the cards on the arrangements already at the funeral home, and set everything up in the viewing room."

"Let the staff take them into the viewing room," he said, his hand tightening on the phone.

"Probably a good idea."

He'd been braced for contention, probably something about professional presentation or some such thing he'd have a difficult time arguing against. He was still waiting for a "but" when she said, "Listen, can you leave your kitchen door unlocked? That way I won't interrupt you when I get there."

"All right," he said. "And Abby?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

Abby drove slowly toward town; she didn't relish the thought of going back into the funeral home. But, she assured herself, the viewing was still three hours away. The Robards had had their private time with their son this morning--which Abby had unwittingly interrupted. So the chances of another scene with Mrs. Robard were slim.

Abby had managed to do her work by blocking out the fact that these arrangements were for a boy whose death she was responsible for. As soon as she had the delivery behind her, she was looking forward to locking herself in Brenna's room and taking a nap. Maybe she could just stay there until morning. It would be the best way to make certain she didn't give in to her desires and go to Jason's bed again. She'd proven she was too weak to leave when she should.

Just as Abby was making the curve in the road, she saw a blue Honda Civic off on the shoulder ahead with its flashers on. She reduced her speed.

There, standing at the front bumper, was Jason's son, Bryce. He had a hand in the air, waving to stop her.

"Oh, buddy, you are so busted," she muttered.

She pulled onto the shoulder, right behind the Civic.

J
ason had just seen his first patient of the afternoon out the door when a text message came in from Abby.

phone almost dead stopping to c dad c u later

"Dammit, Abby." He was dialing her number when Brenna came in the door his patient had just exited.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, Peanut." He disconnected before he finished dialing. "This is a surprise." Sticking his head out the office door, he looked out into the drive for Lucy's or Bryce's car. Neither was there. He was, however, pleased to see the new tires on the Explorer because he might just have to go drag Abby back here and lock her up. "How did you get here?"

"Mom dropped me off. We got out of school early today. Bryce wasn't home. She said to tell you she had some errands and she'd pick me up later."

"She just dropped you off?" His voice tightened with anger.

"She saw Mrs. McCutcheon come out and walk down the driveway, so she knew you were here working."

He realized he was grinding his teeth. He put on a neutral face and asked, "Have you had lunch?"

"Yep."

"Do you have homework?"

"Nope. And Father Kevin cancelled PSR this week, so I don't have that stuff, either. Daddy, do you think Father Kevin is sick?"

"I don't know, baby. Maybe. But he had a fall this week and broke some ribs. I'm sure that's why he cancelled class."

"Oh, no. I bet that hurt." She looked pensive for a moment. "I pray for him every night."

"That's the best gift you could give him," Jason said, marveling at his daughter's extraordinary compassion at such a young age.

"Okay, then." He clapped his hands. "I have my last patient in a few minutes. Do you want to watch a DVD or something?"

She lifted a shoulder. "Sure."

She was so used to having her life blown by the winds of her mother's whims that she wasn't nearly as affected by this impromptu visit as Jason was. What was Lucy thinking? All she had to do was call. He always took Brenna when he got the chance. But, Jesus, to dump the child on the curb! After he got Bren set up in the den, he'd be calling Lucy. How freakin' irresponsible.

When he was popping in
Charlotte's Web
, he said, "So was your brother home for dinner last night?"

"Yeah," Brenna said. "Mom's real mad at him."

Jason stood and put his hands on his hips. "So am I."

"I don't know why. He's lost it before and nobody got this mad."

Jason narrowed his eyes. "Lost what?"

"His iPod. He lost it again. It's his new one, the one Mom bought after he lost the white one." Then she tilted her head. "Why are you mad at him?"

"Mom replaced the white one?"

"Yeah." She slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes grew large. "Oops! I wasn't supposed to tell that. Please don't tell Mommy that I told you."

"Don't worry." He started to walk away, miffed that on top of everything else, Lucy was teaching their daughter to keep secrets from him. Then he stopped and turned back around. "Bren, what color is his new iPod?"

Her eyes were focused on the TV screen. "Silver. It's cool. Mom had his real dad's birthday put on it."

Jason flashed hot, his mouth instantly dry.
226. 2-26. February 26.

Could his son have vandalized the Whitman cemetery?

All of the things that had happened to Abby over the past days raced through Jason's mind. The police stressed the events were
probably
connected to the accident. Probably. Not absolutely. Jason had been so focused on the incidents all being done by the same person that he hadn't seen what should have been obvious early on. The attacks were inconsistent. There were two entirely different levels of things happening to Abby: Vandalism and mischief versus death threats and attempts on her life. Careless loss of an iPod in the cemetery versus a break-in so sophisticated that there was no trace of evidence.

Bryce didn't have access to a boat, so Jason felt sure he wasn't behind the more serious issues. But, damn, why hadn't Jason seen the inconsistencies sooner?

Jason paced outside the den. He went back over the events around Abby's slit tires. Bryce had made no attempt to hide his displeasure when they'd taken Abby into the house after she'd collapsed on the street.

That morning when he'd come to pick them up he'd been moody. Jason had written it off to a teenage boy being abruptly awakened. Abby's Explorer had been sitting in the driveway and Bryce hadn't even asked why they hadn't driven her car over to pick up Jason's.

Why would Bryce take such a sudden turn? He was always responsible beyond his years, so protective of his mother and sister--

Protective! That was the key.

Brenna's words from a telephone conversation a few days ago came back to him:
"Bryce said if we're all real good, you'll come home. I've been good, Daddy. When are you coming home?"

Abby was a threat to reuniting their family. Even though Jason had been clear, he'd thought the children understood... but what if Lucy was feeding them something different?

He dialed Bryce's cell. It rang six times and rolled to voice mail--as it had every time Jason called him for the past two days.

Then he called Lucy's cell--and the same thing happened.

Goddammit, where was she?

He looked at the clock. His next appointment was due any minute.

Jason tried Abby's cell. It went directly to voice mail. Battery must be completely dead.

Then he heard Mr. Jefferies come into the waiting area. Jason was tempted beyond words to tell the man that he had a family emergency and couldn't see him now. But Steve Jefferies had some serious problems; it would be irresponsible to cancel the appointment.

Stop panicking. Abby was fine. She'd gone to see her dad. Maybe she'd be here by the time Jason was finished with Mr. Jefferies. And maybe Lucy would be back, too. Then Jason could hunt down Bryce and demand some answers.

He took several deep breaths and went to take care of business like the level-headed professional he was supposed to be.

Maggie walked through the front hall and saw Uncle Father with his head stuck in the coat closet. He was making grunting noises, like he was having trouble with something.

"Uncle Father, what
are
you doing?" She used the same tone that Mrs. White used on Maggie when she thought she was doing something silly.

He jerked his head out of the coats. He looked like she felt when she got caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

"Oh. I thought you were in your room," he said. "Is Mrs. White here?"

He was breathing hard. His face looked like it really hurt and it made her sad to look at him.

"She went to the grocery store. Do you need help?" she asked.

"I was trying to get the video camera case. The strap is caught on something way back in there. I'm having trouble getting back there with these sore ribs."

"Uncle Father," she sighed and shook her head, "I'm supposed to do things like this for you." She got on her knees and crawled under the coats.

She found where the camera strap was caught on an umbrella and untangled it. When she pulled it out and stood up, Uncle Father had tears on his face.

"It's okay," she said, patting his shoulder. "You'll get better. I don't mind helping you."

"I know you don't." He smiled, even though he was still crying. "You're a very good girl."

"Why do you want the video camera?" she asked.

"I need to take some video of the church for the insurance company."

"You're supposed to be in bed. Do you want me to take the pictures?"

"No, no." He wiped his face dry. "I need something to do. Lying around is too boring."

"I know!" Maggie hated not having things to do. Now that Uncle Father was feeling a little better, she wished Abby would call her to work on flowers again.

He said, "Could you carry the bag over to the church for me and get the camera out and ready to record?"

"Sure." She smiled and picked up the bag. Maybe it was too soon to work with Abby again. Uncle Father did still need her.

As soon as Mr. Jefferies left Jason's office, he went into the den.

"Did Abby come in?"

Bren looked up from her show. "Nope." Then she added in a disappointed voice, "Is she coming here?"

"She's supposed to." Jason's nerves were buzzing with worry; this wasn't the time to address her attitude toward Abby and the future of their family with his daughter. That conversation would take lots of TLC.

He went into the kitchen and called Abby's father.

"Mr. Whitman, Jason Coble. Is Abby there?"

"Hello, Jason. No, I haven't seen Abby for a couple of days."

"If she comes by, would you have her call me?" Jason wondered if the man would remember.

"Sure. I'll leave a note on the refrigerator, so I won't forget."

"Thanks."

Jason hung up. He looked up the number for Randall and Roberts, then called there.

Jim Roberts answered.

"Hello, Jim, this is Jason Coble. Has Abby dropped off the rest of the flowers for the Robard funeral yet?"

"No. And she's cutting it pretty close. It's not like her."