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No Way Out

Page 13

by Christine Kersey


  Letting out a sigh, Abby tried to control the sudden tightening in her chest. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m sure everything will be okay.” Abby wished she felt the confidence she pretended.

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” He paused for a moment. “Well, I’ve got things to do. It was nice talking to you.”

  Abby nodded and took Tiffany’s hand. “Okay, Tiff. Show me where you meet Susannah.”

  “It’s been a week and he’s still trying to postpone payment.” The man sat at his usual table as he ate.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “He can’t pay us back if he’s dead.”

  “No. But we can go after people close to him. You know, family.”

  His boss smiled. “See that it’s taken care of.”

  Eric sipped his soda and peered over the dashboard. It was Wednesday night and he’d been staking out this house for two hours. He hoped he could bring the situation closer to a resolution soon. He’d had about all he could take of this hiding game and was determined to do all he could to end it.

  He looked at the purchase orders on the passenger seat. They were for a phony supplier, and his signature was scrawled across the bottom of each one. This wasn’t going to be pinned on him if he could help it.

  Chapter Twenty

  It had only been a couple of days since Abby had asked Nadine for time off, but she could see now that going back to work would nearly kill her. The stress from worrying about Eric was starting to take its toll—she’d been feeling dizzy more often and was concerned about her blood pressure. Her job wasn’t worth the risk of her health deteriorating—she had to think of her unborn child.

  Maybe I can live on that money I found. At least until Eric gets back.

  But that was the problem. She didn’t know if Eric ever would come back. Besides, the money wasn’t hers to spend. It was ridiculous to consider keeping the money. The best course of action was to give it back, but since she wasn’t certain to whom it belonged, she couldn’t give it back. Instead, she would keep it secure in the safe-deposit box until she knew whose it was.

  That still didn’t solve her job problem. Abby decided to call Nadine and see if she could extend her leave. Worried about what Nadine would say to her request, Abby nibbled on her lip. A moment later her supervisor came on the line

  “Hi, Nadine. This is Abby Breuner.”

  “Yes, Abby. Have you found your husband yet?”

  “No.” Abby felt a rush of anger at the blunt way Nadine had asked the question. “That’s why I’m calling. I was wondering if I could extend my leave for a while. Perhaps until he’s found?” Abby cringed as she waited for Nadine’s reply.

  “That would put me in a bind, you realize. I need a more definite time frame. I mean, if we’re talking weeks, I need to hire someone to take your place.”

  Suddenly Abby was exhausted. The job simply wasn’t worth it. “Nadine, let me put it this way. I won’t be coming in for a while. I don’t know how long it will be, but I’d like to have a job there when I return.”

  “As much as I’d like to hold your job for you, I just won’t be able to. I’m sorry, Abby. I think it would be best if you consider other employment.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Abby said after a pause, surprised at the relief she felt now that a decision had been made. “I enjoyed working there, but I guess now isn’t the best time for me to be working.”

  “Perhaps in the future you can apply to work here again. Good luck with everything.”

  Abby hung up and decided to call Jennifer. Since her sister had left, Abby had called her many times and Jennifer had been a great support—especially concerning Tim’s accusations. Even so, Abby hadn’t told her sister about the money she’d found stashed in her closet.

  “It’s probably for the best,” Jennifer said when Abby told her about losing her job. “I mean, you’re going to have a baby in a few months. What were you planning on doing then?”

  “You’re right. In the long run I’m probably better off.”

  They talked awhile longer, brainstorming a few ways Abby could work from home, both of them promising to call again soon.

  Wandering up and down the grocery store aisles, Abby took in the food choices, her mind on Eric. Is he eating all right? His favorite brand of tuna beckoned her. She put half a dozen cans in her shopping cart, stocking up for his return. Her grocery list forgotten, she piled all of Eric’s favorites in her cart and made her way to the front of the store.

  The clerk, familiar with Abby’s shopping habits, gave her a funny look when Abby stacked her purchases on the conveyor belt—nothing she’d bought was on sale. Abby just smiled benignly and concentrated on filling out her check, then she pushed the shopping cart into the parking lot and transferred the bags to the back of the minivan. Oblivious to the other people in the lot, she didn’t notice the man parked several slots away who eyed her with interest.

  She drove home on automatic pilot, and once the last bag of food was put away, Abby went to the office to balance her checkbook and pay some bills. Opening the envelopes one by one, she wrote the checks and entered the information into the check register, comforted by the thought of the cash available to her in the safe-deposit box. Even though she was expecting a direct-deposit paycheck from Eric’s work, it would only be enough to cover the mortgage and a few other bills. It wouldn’t go far.

  Using the money Eric had hidden wasn’t something Abby wanted to do—if it belonged to his firm, it would need to be given back—but the temptation to dip into the money loomed large as she thought of upcoming bills.

  Once the stack of unpaid bills had been exchanged for a pile of stamped envelopes, Abby leaned back in her chair, relieved the task had been completed. Energized and in the mood for order, she picked up her purse and began cleaning it out.

  One by one, unnecessary receipts and old to-do lists were dropped into the trash. She could see the bottom of her purse now and chastised herself for not doing this sooner. Sorting through the remaining items, she dumped them on the desktop. The pile contained a couple more receipts and a note she had jotted to herself, along with a folded piece of paper unlike the others.

  Curious, she picked up the folded piece of paper and looked at it before unfolding it. Her heart nearly stopped as she read the message:

  Trust me. Trust in our love. Eric

  The slip of paper fluttered to the ground, shock making Abby’s hands stiff and cold. Then she began shaking uncontrollably. Her breath came in short, uneven bursts and her heart seemed to skip beats. She snatched the piece of paper from the floor, then had to put it on the desk to read it because her hands shook so badly. Her mind devoured the words as she read the brief message over and over.

  Then the questions flooded her mind. When was this put in my purse? Was it the morning of the ultrasound? What does this mean? Is he coming home to me?

  Abby struggled to recall when she’d last cleaned out her purse. It had been before Eric had vanished—she was sure of it. Her elation diminished as she considered when he might have put it there.

  Is it possible he’d been close enough for me to touch and I’d been unaware of it?

  The thought brought agony to her heart, but the message of the note, to trust him and to trust in their love for each other, buoyed her up. She thought about Tim’s accusations and contrasted that with the message Eric had given her.

  Maybe he knew Tim would make false allegations against him and he didn’t want me to believe them. “Trust in our love . . .” Maybe that picture really is a lie—but who, and why . . . ?

  Then she thought about the money she’d found, and doubt again pushed its way into her mind.

  That night Abby had a lovely dream about Eric. He was lying next to her, stroking her face, and gently kissing her lips as tears filled his eyes. It felt so good Abby didn’t want to wake up, even as she heard Susannah calling for her. Forcing herself awake, she was startled when she detected the
lingering scent of Eric’s cologne.

  It must be my imagination. She rolled to a sitting position on the side of her bed, then went down the hall to Susannah’s room to see what was the matter.

  Susannah was sitting up in bed, her eyes wide, staring off into the distance.

  “Susannah? Are you okay?” she asked.

  Susannah’s head whipped around to look at her mother. “Mommy?” Her arms reached out toward Abby and Abby went to her, pulling her into a warm embrace.

  She ran her hand over Susannah’s damp brow. “No fever. How do you feel?”

  Susannah pulled back from her mother’s encompassing arms and stared into her eyes. “Daddy was here, Mommy.”

  Startled to hear her daughter say what she had been thinking only moments before, Abby didn’t speak for a moment.

  “Mommy? Didn’t you hear me?” Susannah prodded. “He was here. Did you see him?”

  “Susannah, I wish Daddy was here too. But wishing won’t make it true.”

  Disappointment filled Susannah’s face. “Don’t you believe me?”

  Abby looked into her daughter’s eyes. “Tell me what happened.”

  Susannah took a deep breath. “Well, I was sleeping and I had a dream about Daddy. Then I woke up and saw him.” She looked at her mother with imploring eyes. “But I don’t think he saw me wake up.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Because he didn’t talk to me.”

  “You miss your daddy, don’t you?”

  Susannah nodded.

  “I miss him too.” Abby pulled her daughter into a hug and held her while she cried, forcing herself to control her own tears.

  At last Susannah’s tears subsided and Abby was able to go back to her own bed. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking about what might have happened.

  Is it possible Eric’s been here? And if he was, why didn’t he wake me?

  Abby finally allowed the tears to come as she turned into her pillow to muffle the sobs.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Touching Abby but not being able to speak to her had been one of the hardest things Eric had ever done. Even though he knew he should stay away until his situation had been resolved, he couldn’t. Not only that, he needed to search for the rest of the money. His nocturnal visit had been unsuccessful, except for the message he’d left and prayed Abby would find.

  Now, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Eric walked into the bank. He signed the signature card, got his box, then entered the small room. He opened the metal box and picked up the note that implied he had asked someone to put the money in his house. Setting it aside, he pulled out the few papers that were there and placed them on the counter. Gazing at the remaining contents of the box, he gently patted the money that lay inside. It looked like it was all there. He put the note back inside, closed the lid, then returned the safe-deposit box to its slot.

  Back in his rental car, Eric drove to a copy shop and made copies of all the documents he had taken from the safe-deposit box. After taking the originals back to the bank, he returned to his motel room and examined the documents.

  There were only a few documents, not nearly enough to protect himself from the authorities. He needed more, but the only way to get what he needed was to go to Central Valley Construction and get into the computer in his office.

  Eric had been hoping he could avoid that as it would be a difficult endeavor, but now it looked like the only way. He knew Tim often left early on Fridays so he was fairly certain he could count on him being out of the office by late Friday afternoon. Others in the office went home early on Fridays too. That was when he would make his move.

  The next morning after she took the girls to school, Abby logged onto the computer and checked Eric’s email, but when she saw there was nothing new, she sighed. A moment later the phone rang, pulling her attention away from the computer.

  “Abby, this is Brock Mendez.”

  “Yes?” Abby cringed with worry.

  “What’s going on with Eric? He hasn’t been at work and Tim tells me he hasn’t heard from him, that apparently Eric’s missing. Is this true?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.” Abby’s heart pounded as she spoke to Eric’s boss, and she tried to think of what to say, wondering what he believed about the embezzlement.

  “As you can imagine, I’m very concerned,” he said. “Have you spoken to the police?”

  “I have, but they don’t seem to be worried at all.”

  “And you have no idea where he could be? He hasn’t contacted you?”

  Not this again. “No. Like I told Tim, I haven’t heard from Eric and I don’t know what’s going on.” Abby ran her fingers through her hair, waiting to hear the same accusations that Tim had thrown at her.

  “Well, I hope he’s okay. How’s your family doing? Are you all right?”

  Surprised by his response, she said, “Uh . . . we’re getting by, I guess. Thank you for asking.”

  “Okay, good. Will you let me know if you hear from Eric?”

  Confused that he hadn’t brought up the embezzlement, Abby almost mentioned it herself, but decided she would follow his lead. “If I hear anything I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “Good. I’ll be in touch.”

  Abby hung up and considered the conversation she’d just had. Does Eric still have a job? Why didn’t Brock mention the embezzlement? Maybe he’s just being gracious because Tim told him I’m as clueless as they are.

  Trying to turn her focus away from her problems, Abby got up from the desk, went into the living room, and opened the windows to let the cool morning air into the house. As she looked around the room, she couldn’t ignore the shape the house was in. Things were piling up and the carpets needed vacuuming. She started with the bathrooms, and when they were finished, she moved on to the master bedroom. Abby dragged the vacuum and dust rags into her room and remembered how dusty Eric’s dresser had been the day Jennifer had shown her the book.

  Now, as she stood in front of Eric’s dresser, she stared at finger marks that were out of place on the dust-covered top. That wasn’t where she touched the dresser, and the girls weren’t tall enough to reach the top.

  Heart hammering against her ribs, Abby recalled the odd feeling of Eric’s presence the night before. Her hands hovered over the dresser, poised to open the drawer, but her mind questioned what she saw. Why would Eric come home and open his drawer, but not wake me? Was he looking for the money, or the book on disappearing . . . ?

  Slowly, she reached for the drawer handles, but once the decision was made, she yanked the drawer open. She gasped when she saw it—a note addressed to her in Eric’s handwriting.

  With shaking hands, she pulled it out, then walked unsteadily over to the love seat and sagged into the cushions. The terror of what the message might say was outweighed by the sheer need to know that he’d been there and tried to communicate with her.

  One corner ripped as she tried to unfold the note with trembling hands. She carefully opened it the rest of the way and spread it out on her lap.

  Abby,

  I hope you found this without too much trouble. Know that I love you and I’m trying to come home to stay. I can’t tell you any more than this because I don’t want to put you in a position to say something you shouldn’t. Just sit tight, but for my safety don’t tell anyone I contacted you. Destroy this note.

  Love always,

  Eric

  Elation burned within her. He still loves me! Then her spirits came crashing down. He’s in danger and I can’t help him. What’s going on?

  Standing abruptly, she began pacing the room as she tried to decide what to do. Clearly, she couldn’t tell anyone about the note—not even Jennifer. But how am I supposed to act? Does he expect me to go on as normal? And how much danger, exactly, is he in?

  Fear of the unknown took over as Abby read the note again, memorizing every word. Finally she walked into the bathroom, lifted the lid on the t
oilet, tore the note into tiny pieces, then let them slip from her hands. Watching the tiny pieces of paper float in the water, she sighed, then pressed the lever. They didn’t go down with the first flush and she had to try several times before all the pieces of paper were gone for good.

  She walked to the closet she shared with Eric and stared at the pile of clothes stacked neatly on the floor. Calmly, she picked up each piece and attached it to a hanger. With that done, she made sure his shoes were lined up on the floor, then she turned to her side of the closet and made sure everything looked presentable. The order helped her think more clearly and she desperately wanted to figure out what kind of trouble Eric was in so she could help him. Could it be as simple as embezzlement? She decided to leave a note of her own, just in case he came back.

  Pulling out a sheet of her personal stationery, Abby considered what she should say. It might be the only opportunity she would have to communicate with her husband, so she had to get it right. After several stops and starts she had a message she hoped would be acceptable.

  Eric,

  I love you so much. I trust you’re doing all you can to come home. Please let me know if I can help you.

  Yours forever,

  Abby

  She folded the note neatly into thirds and stared at it, wondering where to put it so that Eric would find it.

  The dresser. After all, that was where he had left his note for her. She pulled the drawer open and stared at his socks and underwear, then she shut the drawer, walked over to the closet, stood on tiptoe, and pulled down the Monopoly game. She set the note inside, then carefully slid the box back on the shelf.

  Maybe he’ll come looking for the money and he’ll find the note. She frowned. I hope he won’t be angry when he finds the money gone.

  Her spirits higher than they had been for days, Abby finished cleaning the house, then stopped for lunch. The ringing of the phone interrupted her meal. She picked up the phone, half expecting to hear Eric’s voice. Instead it was Mr. Phillips.

 

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