Jennifer stopped in front of the dresser and silently pointed to the bottom drawer.
Staring at the dresser, Abby tried to calm herself. As she did, she noticed that the top of the dresser needed dusting. It was an even coating of dust, and only obvious if you were looking for it. She evidently hadn’t noticed it, and she wondered what else in her life she’d failed to notice—like things going wrong in her marriage.
“Abby?”
Abby glanced at her sister, then knelt on the floor in front of the dresser. Hesitating, she gazed up at Jennifer, who was pressing her fist to her chin, then she reached out and touched the drawer handles, gripping and squeezing them, afraid of what she was going to find. Trying to convince herself it couldn’t be as bad as she imagined, she held the handles firmly, then slowly pulled out the drawer. At first she didn’t see anything unusual, then her eye was drawn to a library book tucked along one side of the drawer. When she read the title, she rocked back on her heels.
How to Vanish and Never Be Found.
Chapter Eleven
It was the last thing she had expected to find, and she almost wished Jennifer hadn’t shown it to her. Abby reached in and gently lifted it from the drawer, then stood and stared at the cover. She flipped through the book, her mind having a hard time grasping the implications, but when she found an item pressed between the pages, she gasped. The book slipped from her hands as she recoiled in horror, and the item she’d discovered floated to the carpet.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she reached down and retrieved the wallet-size photograph. Studying the people in the picture, she blinked several times, trying to understand what her mind refused to believe.
In the picture were a man, a woman, and a young boy. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the man. “Eric,” she whispered, then felt Jennifer’s hand on her shoulder. As she stared at the family in the picture she thought her heart would break. She squeezed her eyes closed, hoping she would see something different when she opened them, but when she gazed at the picture again she couldn’t deny the identity of the man in the picture. It was Eric.
The blond woman was in profile, but she looked quite pretty. The woman gazed adoringly at the man at her side—at Eric. He stared back at her, a smile on his face, and sitting between them was a tow-headed boy—Abby guessed he was about three.
She remembered the phone call she’d received just that morning. The one with the little boy asking for “Daddy.” Could it have been the little boy in the picture? The thought made her sick.
He loves me. He wouldn’t do that to us.
The photo of the little family seemed to mock her—the way the couple gazed lovingly at each other, the little boy who looked just like his parents, the fact that the photo was found in a book about disappearing . . . It was too much for Abby.
The picture slipped from her hand as she sank to her knees, and she allowed the tears to flow freely. She’d never imagined Eric betraying her in this way. It was bad enough that he might have gone back to using drugs, but this was a whole new level of betrayal.
She barely croaked out, “Jennifer?”
“Yes? Can I get you something?” Worry clouded Jennifer’s eyes.
“Water?”
Jennifer hurried into the bathroom and filled a small glass with cold tap water, then walked swiftly back to Abby and pressed the cup to her lips before helping her to the love seat under the window.
Abby smiled gratefully at her younger sister.
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Can you watch the girls? I need time alone.”
“Of course.” Jennifer quietly left the room.
Abby watched her go, but as soon as she was out of the room she was instantly forgotten as Abby turned her mind to Eric. Her thoughts were spinning. Why on earth would he want to vanish? Doesn’t he love me anymore? Isn’t he excited about the child we’re expecting? Will I ever see him again? Who are the people in that photo? Why . . . ?
The phone rang next to her, but she ignored it, not in any condition to take a call. It stopped after two rings, and she assumed Jennifer had answered it. Any flame of hope it could be Eric had been thoroughly extinguished.
Then a new emotion took over. Anger. How dare he leave me like this? How does he expect me to take care of our children?
Her job paid a pittance. They had no savings. Fear merged with the anger, and Abby’s stomach sent her running for the bathroom. After she threw up, she sat for a long time. She knew it was time to tell the girls something about their father. But what?
She pushed herself off the floor and wandered over to the closet she shared with Eric. Used to share. Standing in a confused stupor, she looked at his clothes, still on the floor where she had thrown them the day before. Numbly, she picked them up, folded them into neat squares, and left them in a stack in the corner. She stared at the pile, her eyes burning with tears.
Leaving the closet, she walked to the dresser and opened Eric’s top drawer, gazing at the things inside. A cold anger took over and she found her tears had dried up. She pulled her mind together and assessed his belongings—everything was as he usually kept it. It occurred to her that if he had been planning on leaving he should have taken some of his belongings.
Or is he planning on buying a whole new wardrobe? And how is he financing this little expedition?
Panic crowded out any feelings of anger as Abby considered the idea that Eric had cleaned out what little was available in their bank accounts. Hurrying down the stairs to the office, Abby didn’t think to ask Jennifer who had called. Instead, she closed the office door behind her and went directly to the filing cabinet. Pulling out the drawer that held the bank statements, she perused the balance numbers, but noted they were for the previous month. The current month’s statements had yet to arrive.
She carried the page over to the desk and laid it on the desktop, settling herself into the soft leather chair, then pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. She wrote down the balance amounts, then reading farther down the page, saw the web address for the bank. Certain Eric had an online account, she turned on the computer, then waited while it booted up. A moment later she opened the browser and watched the home page appear. It was Eric’s email account. The computer appeared to remember his password, so she logged in.
The Inbox showed three new messages. Abby clicked on the first one. It was a newsletter. She perused it and quickly determined it was sports related. That was deleted. The next one looked interesting, but it turned out to be an offer to make loads of money. Delete. She clicked on the last one, expecting nothing, but when she read the message, her heart banged against her ribs.
I want the package returned immediately.
Abby’s eyebrows drew together in puzzlement, then she noticed the sender’s email address was simply a series of numbers—meaningless to her. She wondered if the message could have something to do with a drug delivery. It certainly seemed unrelated to the photograph in the book.
Profound sadness blossomed inside her, and she closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she tried to collect herself. In all the scenarios she had imagined, her biggest fear had always been Eric dealing drugs again. But she no longer knew what she should be the most afraid of.
What could I have done to help you? Are you hurt? Do you really have another family? Did a drug deal go bad and you’ve been injured? The thought made her feel nauseous, and she didn’t know if she’d ever feel well again.
“Abby?” Jennifer’s voice came from the hallway.
“I’m in here,” Abby called out. Then, afraid Jennifer would see the awful message, Abby closed it and turned toward the door.
Jennifer crossed the room, knelt next to Abby, and pulled her into a firm hug. The feeling of unconditional love brought Abby to tears, which turned into sobs, and the sisters simply held each other as the minutes ticked by.
Jennifer spoke in a gentle voice. “I hadn’t realized you’d come downstairs. I . . . uh . . .” She seemed to sense that Abb
y wasn’t ready to talk yet. “I want you to know that I haven’t . . . accepted what we found. There are plenty of possible explanations. Things aren’t always what they look like at first. I want you to know that I support you in whatever you want to do, no matter what happens.”
Her reminder that things weren’t always what they seemed made Abby reconsider her own tendency to draw a swift conclusion, and she realized she needed to wait before she made any judgements. “Thank you.”
“Anyway,” Jennifer continued, “I wanted to let you know . . . a man called looking for Eric.”
Abby sat up straighter, sniffing. “Did you get his name?”
“Yes. He said it was Tim Meher.”
At the questioning look on Jennifer’s face, Abby said, “Someone Eric works with.”
“Oh. Well, he wanted to know if you’d heard from Eric. He said he needs to talk to him.”
Abby shook her head, sarcasm emboldening her words. “Yeah, well, I’d like to talk to Eric myself.” She almost laughed at how surreal her world had become, then she felt tears threatening. She put her hand over her mouth, willing the tears to stay inside.
Jennifer waited, and when Abby had calmed a little, she said, “I’m here to help. So let’s see if we can’t start solving this mystery. Now, what were you doing in here?”
Abby knew Jennifer was right. She had to pull herself together, even if only in preparation to protect and guide her family. Trying not to let the feelings of anger and despair overcome her, Abby pointed to a chair in the corner. “Pull that up. Maybe you can help me find my bank balance.”
A moment later they were looking at the bank’s web page. There were two lines that had to be filled out: one for an account number, the other for a password. Abby’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She had no idea what the password was, and this one wasn’t automatically filled in by the computer.
“Do you know the password?” Jennifer asked.
Abby turned to face her sister. “Stupid me. He tried to show me how to get in to this website, but I wasn’t interested.”
Jennifer reached out and rubbed her sister’s shoulders. “That’s okay. Don’t feel bad. We’ll figure it out.”
Abby felt the warm concern radiating from her sister. “Jennifer, why did it take something awful like this to bring us together?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Mom had something to do with it,” Jennifer said, a knowing smile on her face.
Abby actually chuckled, grateful for the distraction. “Naw. Not our mother.” They looked at each other and burst out laughing. It felt wonderful. “What do you think she would say if she knew we were here without her?” Abby asked.
“Yeah, with us talking about her. I think that’s her greatest fear—that we’ll get together and talk about what a pain she can be.” Jennifer shook her head. “Poor thing. Doesn’t she realize we love her, even if she’s difficult?”
Abby didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m glad at least one of us appreciates her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes the only thing I can feel toward her is anger and annoyance. I mean, she has no concept of other people’s feelings. Like last night, right before I called you, I called her and told her Eric was missing. Do you think she showed any sympathy?” Abby shook her head in answer to her own question. “All she could say was that she’d warned me he was no good.” The memory upset her, but then she stopped, wondering if her mother was right. After all, her mother had merely assumed Eric had gone off to use drugs, and after the disturbing discoveries today, she couldn’t say her mother was too far off the mark—maybe even too conservative in her judgments. Abby looked at Jennifer sadly, tears threatening again.
“What?” Jennifer asked.
“I’m just wondering if maybe Mom’s right.”
“Don’t you go thinking that,” Jennifer scolded. “When has Mom ever been right?”
Abby tried to smile in agreement, but she couldn’t shake the sensation that Eric was in serious trouble and that she didn’t really know her husband. She shoved that aside and focused on the task at hand. “The bank account number,” Abby said, looking at the paper in front of her. She typed the number into the space and hit the TAB key. The password was next. Abby looked at Jennifer, a helpless smile on her face. “Now what?”
“Do you have access to Eric’s email account?”
“Yes, why?”
“Click on where it says you forgot your password. They’ll send an email to Eric’s email account and you should be able to reset it.”
I really need to learn how to use computers. “Okay.” After following Jennifer’s instructions, Abby was able to log in to the bank account and a moment later the screen filled with numbers. There was the deposit of Eric’s last paycheck and a list of all the checks that had been written and cleared, along with the debit activity. Nothing unusual. No large withdrawals. The balance amount was not much different than their current statement indicated. Somehow this discovery buoyed her spirits. Maybe she could trust her husband.
“Okay. He didn’t clean us out,” Abby said with relief.
“Did you think he had?”
“After I looked through that book you found, the thought crossed my mind.” Abby paused. “I wonder how he’s paying for this.”
Jennifer shrugged.
Abby looked at Jennifer, and her sister’s love made the tears start again. “Thanks for all your help,” she choked. Frustration now motivated her tears—she just didn’t know what to think. “I’m exhausted,” she said between sniffs.
“You need to take care of yourself and that baby. Go sleep off some of this stress. I’ll keep an eye on the girls.”
Abby smiled gratefully and nodded. “Thank you, Jennifer.”
They walked out of the office together, Abby shutting the door behind them.
Chapter Twelve
Crawling under the fluffy comforter for a nap, Abby hugged Eric’s pillow and thought about the email message addressed to her husband. Maybe I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. It might have nothing to do with drugs, or . . . with anything else we found. Finally she drifted into an exhausted slumber.
A while later she woke up and noticed it was dark outside. Looking at the clock, she saw it was past eight P.M, and wondered if Jennifer had already put the girls to bed. Stretching out the kinks in her back, she felt her baby moving around restlessly.
She rubbed her abdomen. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t you worry about a thing. Momma’s going to take care of you.” When she felt enough resolve to face the challenges ahead, she pushed herself out of bed and considered her girls.
Knowing it was time to tell her girls something about their father’s absence, she thought for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t upset them. After pulling on her robe, she left her bedroom and walked down the hall toward Susannah’s room. Susannah was in her bed and Tiffany was in a red sleeping bag on the floor. They were still awake and they smiled at their mother as she knelt down between them.
“I’m glad I caught you before you fell asleep.” Abby looked back and forth between them. They didn’t say anything as they looked at her with sleepy eyes and questioning faces. “You’ve probably been wondering when Daddy’s going to come home,” she began.
They nodded.
“Aunt Jennifer said he went away for his work,” Susannah said.
Abby tried to keep control of her emotions, taking a deep breath before continuing. “The truth is, I’m not sure where he is.”
Tiffany sat up on her sleeping bag. “What do you mean?”
Abby couldn’t stop the tears from filling her eyes. So much for not upsetting them.
Susannah began crying as she patted Abby on the back. “It’s okay, Mommy. We’re still here.”
“I know, sweetheart. And I love you both very much.” Abby reached over and hugged each girl. “And I’m sure that wherever your father is, he misses you and loves you very much, too.”
“But when
’s Daddy going to be home?” Tiffany persisted.
Abby pressed her lips together as she tried to gain control of herself, then she shook her head. “I wish I knew, honey. But I don’t.” Abby looked Tiffany in the eyes. “Daddy hasn’t called to tell me.” She hoped they wouldn’t have more questions—she didn’t think she had the energy to answer them. “Now get to sleep. You both have school tomorrow.” She watched Susannah close her eyes, then she smiled at Tiffany, who laid down, but showed no signs of sleeping.
“Mom?” Tiffany asked. “Why would Daddy do that? Doesn’t he love us anymore?”
She stroked Tiffany’s cheek. “I don’t know why he’s done this, but I do know he loves you very much. I’m sure of it.”
Tiffany didn’t look convinced as she turned on her side and closed her eyes.
Abby left the room and went down the stairs.
Jennifer’s back was turned as Abby came toward the family room, and she had the phone pressed against her ear. “I know, Rick. I wonder the same thing, but what can I do?”
Abby stopped in the doorway.
“Yeah, she was pretty shocked about the book and picture . . . I don’t know . . . Okay. I love you too. Bye.”
Abby waited a moment before she walked into the room.
Jennifer seemed surprised to see her, but her smile showed nothing but kindness. “Hey. You’re awake. Are you feeling any better?”
“A little,” Abby said as she sat on the couch. “I talked to the girls.” As she thought about Tiffany’s question about their father loving them, her heart tightened with sadness. “They’re pretty confused. They think their Daddy doesn’t love us.” Abby’s voice broke as she said the words, then fell to a whisper. “I’m beginning to wonder the same thing.”
Jennifer rushed over to Abby, who was now slumped in the depths of the couch cushions, then sat beside her and stroked her back. “I don’t know what to say,” Jennifer began. “Why would he do this? Do you have any idea?”
Abby looked at the floor. “I really don’t know. I thought things were going well. I mean, sure, we had problems like every other couple I know, but nothing that would send him running away.”
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