by Lori Whitwam
Monique was momentarily derailed. “You know who?” She blinked and gave her head a shake. “Marilyn said she had something to show me, a picture of someone to keep an eye out for, but she left it in the car. She’s bringing it by later.”
Abby nodded. “His name is Drew Purcell.”
Catching her equilibrium, Monique squared his shoulders. “It’s only part of the picture. Dash says Seth’s never had a committed relationship. What makes you think he’ll start now? How are you going to feel if he leaves you? You didn’t handle it too well the last time.”
Abby drew back as if she’d been slapped. “That was a low fucking blow, Monique.”
Monique dropped her eyes. “Maybe. I’m sorry.”
“Look, we’ve discussed his leaving, believe it or not. He thought he was no good for me, with the nomadic lifestyle, not to mention someone trying to kill him recently, and probably killing Kevin in the process. Pretty much all the things you just said. But we concluded we’ll make decisions together, and he won’t leave me, not in the way you mean. I believe that.”
“You can’t be sure.”
“Nobody knows anything absolutely, Mo.” Abby’s voice was wilting. She was about done with this conversation. “But I trust him. You might be trying to take back the advice you gave me the other day, but it’s still valid. Life’s not worth the space you take up if you don’t live it.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Abby.” Monique’s shoulders slumped.
“I know you don’t, and I appreciate it. You wouldn’t come clear out here to yell at me if you didn’t care.” She approached her friend and put a hand on her arm. “But it’s my life, and I have to decide what to do with it. I need you to respect that.”
Monique put her hand over Abby’s. “Fair enough. It doesn’t change how I feel, not yet, but I promise to think about it.” She glanced toward her car. “I guess I should be going now. Just don’t you forget, no matter what happens, good or bad, I’m here for you.”
Abby managed a small smile. “I know it, Mo. I’d better go back inside before everybody wonders where I am.”
Monique turned to leave, and Abby felt strangely as if arguing about her as-yet-unmade decision had brought her that much closer to making one.
Inside, Abby headed to the bathroom to splash some cool water on her face and gather her composure. Monique’s unexpected disapproval had confused and angered her. She knew her friend cared and only wanted what was best for her, but dammit, it was nobody’s job but her own to decide what that was.
She picked up a bottle of water in the kitchen and returned to the deck. Molly and Marshall were still gone. They’d better not be in her hammock. She settled in the chair next to Seth and leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Where’ve you been?” Seth asked, taking her hand.
“Monique stopped by to talk to me about something.” They wouldn’t be discussing this in front of Joey.
“Yeah, what was it?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Abby said, giving a tiny nod in Joey’s direction. Seth nodded in return, indicating he got the message.
The three of them sat for a while, talking about inconsequential things. What kind of fish were in the lake, what the club district was like in Austin, when the new Red Wanting Blue album would be out, and some amusing stories from life on the road.
Despite her argument with Monique, Abby relaxed and was thinking about letting her eyes drift shut when she saw Dilbert come out of the woods with something in his mouth. Oh, shit. What now?
She stepped out in the yard to meet the dog. “What do you have, Dilbert? Let me see.”
Dilbert stopped in front of her, and she saw the object was a chunk of meat. It was about the size of a softball and solid, not the ground meat they cooked earlier. This struck her as strange. The Nygaards weren’t home, which was why they hadn’t come over this afternoon, so it wasn’t something they gave him. Other things Dilbert brought home tended to be fur covered and occasionally still alive. A feeling of deep unease snaked up her spine.
With a little encouragement, he dropped the meat and sat. Abby poked it with a finger, revealing a deep slice on one side. Unease turned to alarm. “Seth! Come here!”
Seth hurried over. He crouched beside her and looked at the chunk of meat. “What the hell is that?”
“Nothing we’ve given him.” She pointed at the cut. “I think it’s been tampered with or baited or something.”
Seth picked up the meat, which Abby thought looked too fresh and bug-free to have been outside for long. Maybe early this morning. He pulled at the edges of the cut and revealed a cavity full of small, white pills.
Abby gasped. She knew she was going to be furious in a few minutes, but right now panic was in charge. Molly was a veterinary technician. “Molly! Come here! Hurry!” She heard her friend and Marshall charging up the path, and she began looking at Dilbert for signs he’d been poisoned.
Molly and Marshall ran up, looking confused and out of breath. “What’s wrong?” Molly asked.
Abby’s hand trembled as she pointed to the lump of meat and pills in Seth’s hand. “Dilbert just came out of the woods with that. Look at all those pills in there. What the hell are they?”
Molly picked up a stick and poked at the pills. “It’s Valium. I recognize it because what we use for animals is the exact same thing prescribed for people.” She put down the stick. “But that’s a lot of it. Did he eat any?”
Grabbing Dilbert’s face and looking at the dog as if he could answer the question, Abby choked out, “I don’t know!”
Seth said, “It looks like this piece was intact, but how do we know if there were more?”
Abby’s heart pounded as she looked at Molly. “What do we do?”
“Hydrogen peroxide. Do you have any? And a squirt bottle or a flexible plastic cup?”
“Yes, peroxide’s in the hall closet, and empty plastic bottles under the bathroom sink. Seth, can you get them?” She was not letting go of this dog.
Seth ran toward the house.
Molly checked Dilbert over. She looked in his mouth and opened his remaining eye to study the pupil. The dog seemed concerned about all the attention, but didn’t struggle. Abby wondered if it was just his sweet, mellow disposition or due to a rising level of Valium in his system. Marshall and Joey stood frozen to one side, faces tight with concern.
Seth returned with the peroxide and a small bottle intended to hold shampoo or dish soap. Molly quickly filled the bottle and squirted some down Dilbert’s throat. He struggled, shaking his head, but most of the peroxide went down.
“Now what?” Marshall asked.
“We wait,” Molly replied. “He should start throwing up any minute. If he ate any pills, they need to come up. If there was another piece out there with this many pills in it, he’s in trouble.”
Abby hugged Dilbert as tears streamed down her face. “That filthy son of a bitch! Trying to kill Seth, blowing up my house, sneaking around here in the middle of the night, and now he’s poisoning my dog! An innocent dog!”
Seth had one arm around Abby and one on Dilbert’s side. “Your dog?”
It was part of their repertoire of running jokes, and she knew he said it reflexively. But right now it wasn’t funny. “Yeah, I know, I keep saying he’s not my dog. But a few days ago I didn’t have a boyfriend or whatever the heck you are, either. So now I have a dog. You have a problem with that?”
“Nope.”
Which was, of course, the only acceptable answer.
She might have said more, but Dilbert began making the rhythmic heaving sounds telling them the peroxide was about to produce results. Abby positioned herself with her hand across Dilbert’s shoulder as he brought up the contents of his stomach. By the time he finished, he’d thrown up several large chunks of hamburger and bun, some pasta salad, an entire graham cracker—how had he managed that?—and part of what might or might not have been a chipmunk. But no sign of any pills.
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Molly, who was used to dealing with what came out of one end or another of dogs, used the stick to poke through the piles. “Nope, no Valium. I think we’re safe.”
Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Abby hugged Dilbert, careful not to kneel in the recently evacuated stomach contents.
Marshall walked over to Molly and casually put an arm around her. “But, Abby,” he said, “why didn’t he eat the meat when he found it? I mean, most dogs I know would’ve practically inhaled it.”
Abby sat back and leaned against Seth. “Dilbert’s funny that way. When I found him, his eye was infected and I had to give him antibiotics. I had a terrible time.” She stroked Dilbert’s head. “I tried putting them in cheese, peanut butter bread, hot dogs, you name it. But he could always tell the pills were there, and he either wouldn’t touch it, or he’d eat the food and leave the medicine completely untouched. Bugged the shit out of me.”
“Turned out to be a good thing today,” Molly said.
Dilbert gagged again but only succeeded in producing a small puddle of foamy yellow bile. He stood up and ambled over to lie in the hole he’d dug by the deck.
Molly went to Dilbert and lifted his lip, checking the color of his gums. “He looks okay. Let his stomach rest an hour or so, and then you can try giving him some water. If he keeps it down, he can have a little food tonight.”
“Thanks, Molly,” Abby said, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here.”
“Well, he didn’t eat any of it, so he would’ve been fine.”
“But I might have had a fatal panic attack.”
“You’re tougher than you think,” Molly said with a smile.
Seth went to the garage, emerging a minute later with a shovel and small bucket. He proceeded to clean up the peroxide’s results and take it to the trash bin. He never said a word, but came to kneel by Dilbert after he was finished, scratching him under the chin.
Abby looked at the chunk of meat still lying where they’d dropped it. “What should we do with that?”
Molly stood, put her hands on her hips, and leaned back, stretching. Marshall seemed to find this fascinating. “If you have a container, I could take it home and put it in the clinic freezer tomorrow. You know, in case you end up needing it for evidence.”
“Thanks, Molly. I can’t stand to be anywhere near it. I have some empty butter tubs under the kitchen sink. I’ll go get one in a minute.” She didn’t think she could move right now if she had to. After the argument with Monique and this rush of adrenaline, she felt drained.
A short while later, everyone gathered in the living room. Joey sprawled on the floor, idly stroking Dilbert’s ears under the table. Abby went to Seth’s side, and Molly sat with Marsh. The party, however, was definitely over. It wasn’t long before Molly started making “gee, isn’t it time to be going?” noises, and Marshall agreed. It was decided they would take Molly home on the way back to the motel. Seth walked out to the car with them, and took his time coming back.
He’d been awfully quiet ever since she’d called him off the deck to see what Dilbert found in the woods. He answered questions briefly, his voice even softer than usual. Abby knew he was extremely fond of Dilbert and blamed himself for this latest violation, just as he did the others.
She gave Dilbert some water. He lapped it eagerly, and it stayed down, much to her relief. She puttered around the house, working off the remnants of her nervous energy on mundane tasks. From time to time Seth came to her and offered a gentle kiss or touch, as if he wanted to comfort her but wasn’t sure how. That wasn’t like him. He was usually very direct when dealing with things of an emotional nature. Oh, well, she thought. We’ve all had a very upsetting afternoon. He’ll be better in a little while.
He told her he was going upstairs to forward the photo of Drew Purcell to Pete and Jackie, just to be safe. He must have found a lot of other mail waiting for him, because he was gone a long time. When he came back down, he didn’t join her in the living room. He went in the bedroom, and when he didn’t come out, Abby went to see what was keeping him. She found him stuffing his clothes in a canvas bag he must have found in the laundry room. She froze just inside the door. “Seth, what are you doing?”
He set the bag on the bed. It took him forever to lift his head to look at her. “I have to leave.”
“Leave? What do you mean? You can’t leave.” She felt as if she were hearing her own voice from the far end of a long tunnel.
“Abby, I don’t have a choice anymore. He was here. Again. He tried to get Dilbert out of the way so he’d have a free shot at us. At you. I went up to check mail, and I found this.” He pointed at a crumpled sheet of paper on the floor by the bed.
As Abby bent to retrieve it, Seth said, “The website has been backed up from all the traffic, and Victor just received a bunch of messages sent earlier today. It came to my website e-mail, not my personal one.”
The plain white printer paper in her hand, Abby leaned against the dresser to read it. What she saw almost took her legs from beneath her. The address was an anonymous remailing service, and the words were chilling:
Clock’s ticking, Caldwell. Hey, is she a screamer? No, don’t tell me. If she’s around when I catch up to you, I’ll find out for myself. I think I’ll even let you watch. And listen.
“You see, Abby? He came right out and said it. I have to go so he won’t hurt you.” His voice was thick and his eyes were red-rimmed, the way blue-eyed people look when they’re trying very hard not to cry.
“You…can’t…leave,” she repeated. Because when people left, when people made you cry and left, they never came back, did they? She put her hand on the wall to steady herself, as the whole room seemed to sway.
Seth came to her, took her hand, and led her to the bed. He sat with her on the edge and held her. “It’s me he wants. This all started a long time before I met you. If he can make it worse by hurting you, he will. But we have to be together, or it won’t give him what he wants, which is to torture me and watch me suffer.” Her head was bowed, and he kissed her forehead softly. “If I go and he knows I’m not with you, he’ll leave you alone. I’ll come back when they catch him, when this is all over.”
“Will you?” Her voice was harsh and bitter. Nobody ever comes back.
“I will, I swear.”
He swore? Swearing was like a vow, and people broke those all the time. “And what am I supposed to do until then? Tell me that.” Her voice was so raw it was almost strangled. “I’m supposed to watch the news and wonder for days, weeks, months, if that’s the day he’s going to find you?” She was less afraid of what might happen if Drew Purcell found them together than she was of how she’d handle a world where Seth left her. She told Monique just a few hours ago Seth would never do this. Maybe her certainty had been viewed as arrogance by the Fates, and this was her punishment.
His hand trembled as it clung to hers. After a long moment, he touched her cheek and turned her face until she met his eyes. “I want you to go to your mom’s place. Now, before it gets dark. Will you do that for me?”
“I won’t leave my house.”
“Please. I need to know you’re safe.”
“Then stay.”
“If I thought it was the best way to keep him away from you, don’t you think I’d do it? But no, if I’m here, I’m inviting him right to your door.” He stood, crossed to the closet, and began cramming shirts in the bag, the hangers rattling on the rod. “Don’t you think this is killing me? It’s ripping my fucking guts out! Goddammit, I knew I wasn’t good for you. You’d be better off if I never came back.”
Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Was her heart still beating? She couldn’t tell. This was too much. In that instant, she almost wished she’d never met Seth Caldwell. Those people who spouted the “it’s better to have loved and lost” cliché were a bunch of fucking morons. It wasn’t better.
It was as if a switch flipped at the base of he
r brain. She stopped thinking. She stopped feeling. If she stopped, this couldn’t hurt anymore. As far as she was concerned, he was already gone. She dropped the tattered message to the floor, stood, and walked out the bedroom door.
He caught up to her in the living room. “Abby, please. I have to…”
She cut him off and looked at him with hot, dry eyes. “No. Just go.”
“I love you, Abby-Kat.” He tried to grab her hand, but she turned away.
“Don’t say it. If you’re leaving, you don’t get to say it. And don’t ever call me that name again.” Her hands clenched at her side. “Do you want to know why Monique was here?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “She came to tell me being with you was a mistake. That it all happened too fast, and I didn’t know you. She said you’d leave me. I guess she was right, but I bet she never thought it would be tonight.” She choked on a single, bitter laugh. “I sure didn’t.”
He took a step and extended his hand, reaching for her again, but she ignored it and walked into the kitchen. She poured a big glass of water and stood over the sink sipping it. She heard him on the phone.
“Joey, where are you, man? I need you to come get me. Right now. Just do it. I’ll talk to you when you get here. Hurry, okay? Thanks. See you in a few.” He hung up and returned to the bedroom.
While he was in there, Abby went out on the deck. She didn’t want to see him leave. She stood, staring at the lake, until she heard the door ease open behind her. She knew he was watching her and if she turned, he’d come to her. But letting go of him would be too hard, so she kept her back to him. After a minute, the door closed. She heard the side door open and close, but she stayed where she was. Eventually she heard a car pull into the gravel driveway. The door slammed, and the car drove away.
She went back inside and dumped the nearly full bowl of pasta salad in the trash. She turned off her phone, poured a glass of wine, and sat on the couch petting her dog.