Sam leaned in toward the table. “So, what’s going on?”
Abbott shook his head. “I’m having withdrawals.”
“What’s bringing those on?”
“I came across a case, and there are new leads that have unfolded.”
“Why kind of new leads?”
“They have to do with my daughter.” Abbott held his fists together. “Evidence from my daughter’s disappearance has developed in this other case I’m looking into.”
“How did you stumble upon this information?” Sam asked.
“A lady needed some help, and she reminded me of myself when I first lost Aspen. She’s angry, confused, and holding on to some false hope that somehow her daughters are still alive.” He looked away. “She’s drowning in self-pity, just as I did. The only difference is I drowned my worries in shots of vodka and whiskey.”
“Do you feel the need to save her?”
“Oddly, yes. I couldn’t save my marriage, you know. I lost everything all at the same time. Everything I worked so hard to make stable and great just fell apart.”
“Are you looking back into this case because you want answers for yourself, or do you want to help this woman?” Sam asked.
“I need closure.”
“You still feel responsible for your daughter’s disappearance? Why?”
“I’m a cop. Isn’t that what we do this for—to protect our families from all the shit we see and hear about? Taking down one dangerous criminal after another to make the world a better place.”
“You’ve got to stop, man,” Sam said. “We can’t save the world. Bad things happen.” He paused, deciding what to say.
“Everyone keeps saying that. Even Peyton was mad at me. The way she looked at me before she left, full of disappointment.” Abbott held his head.
“I can’t tell you if she blames you for that day or not, but your wife had plenty of reason to be mad. Your drinking almost ruined your marriage. That’s why we’re here, talking to each other,” he said. “Take it a day at a time. Being separated doesn’t mean it’s a done deal. Keep working at it.”
Abbott sighed and sat in silence for a minute. “You’re right.” He picked up the menu, pretending to decide what he wanted to eat. “What kind of business brings you down here, really? You’re a county officer in my city. Don’t you think you should tell me? I’ll find out soon enough, anyway.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?
He shook his head.
“Let’s just say there’s a girl that’s in a bad way who needs my help, too.”
“Oh, you’ve been seeing someone, finally?”
“Nothing like that,” Sam said, fidgeting with his phone.
“It has to do with her, doesn’t it? The girl from your past, the reason you became an alcoholic in the first place.” Abbott peered at him. “She’s bad news, and you know it. Nothing good will come from this.”
“I don’t expect anything from her, but she needs help.”
“That’s what you’ve said before, and then she left you. You can’t save her if she doesn’t want to be saved.”
Abbott could take his own advice. His wife seemed to be okay with the separation much more than he was, and it took everything in him to not constantly try to fix it the way he wanted it to be.
Twenty-Three
Cache Rushner
Wednesday, November 10th
7:00 a.m.
Cache awoke to a fire truck screeching down the street. He sat up and scratched his head while cracking his neck. He’d never slept in a car overnight before and hoped to never do it again. It was the worst sleep he’d had in years. Coming home yesterday, he attempted to resolve the fight he had with Adaline at the skating rink. It blew up in his face. She wouldn’t let him in, and she’d gotten angrier from the time they talked in the park to the ride home. Usually, she just needed a moment to blow off some steam. Cache presumed that an all-paid, amazing sleep suite in his car was the ticket to her calming down.
He fumbled to open the car door, still feeling groggy. Cache shuffled out of his car, making his way to the front door of his home. He pressed on the latch, expecting to hear a click and an invite inside, but it was locked. They hadn’t had a chance yet to make a copy of the house keys. Not working in his favor.
“Addi. Honey, can you let me in?” he said, trying to be discreet. No more visits or attention drawn to them or their home if he could help it.
The sound of flip-flops hitting the floor came closer to the door.
Good sign. She’s letting me in.
The door opened a crack, and Cache could see Adaline’s nose and one of her blue eyes peeping through the space. “What do you want? I thought I made it perfectly clear I don’t want to be around you right now.”
Don’t get mad.
He bunched his hands together and hid them behind his back. He smiled at her through the crack in the door.
“I understand where you’re coming from. I said something stupid, and I take it back.”
“What do you take back? The part where you don’t believe me, or the part where you don’t believe me?” She scrunched her nose and looked away.
“I don’t want to see you sad. I know things have been hard on you. Please let me help you.”
“Please. I need some time, okay? I can’t handle any more of this right now.”
“Any more of what?” he said, confused.
“Of this,” she said, drawing a circle between the two of them with her finger.
Cache pressed his hand up against the door and looked down at the ground. “Okay. If that’s what you want.” He bit his lip, trying to control the tone of his voice. He didn’t feel calm, but if he lost it right now, he would lose his shot altogether—if he even had one. “Can I get some of my stuff for work?”
She considered, then opened the door, moving away. He stopped in front of her and grabbed at her hand. Their fingers touched briefly until she moved them to her side. He wanted to hold and shake her at the same time. How could he make Adaline understand that he believed and loved her, but this was in her head—without making her feel like he didn’t care?
Walking upstairs, he went to the closet and pulled out some suits and his leather work shoes. He grabbed a duffle bag from the top shelf and went to the bathroom to retrieve his toothbrush and shaving kit.
She just needs more time. He scoffed. Now who’s in denial?
He picked up his things and began to walk downstairs. Adaline’s eyes held his the whole way down, begging him to stay, but her body language said otherwise.
Cache clenched his jaw and bunched his fist.
“Please don’t come back until I’m ready, okay?”
“When will that be?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“Okay.” Cache opened the door and walked outside. He was beginning to hate his car just for being the only place he was able to go in the past sixteen hours. He kicked it, crushing a hole in his headlight.
Damn it.
Loud scrambling came from behind him, and an annoying voice saying, “Turn the camera on,” made him flinch. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. That nosy reporter, Sienna Rhoades from Channel 5 News, who reported Adaline’s disappearing act from her grand opening, stood in their driveway.
Cache bolted, got into his car, and swerved out of the driveway. He drove until he spotted the first motel he could find and pulled in. Grand Capital Motel. He needed to be near Adaline, even if she didn’t want him to.
I’m still her husband, and I’m not leaving.
His wedding ring swirled around his finger. He watched the ring’s motion for a minute and thought about how their marriage looked kind of the same. Always moving in a circle, full of confusion, chaos. A whirlwind of emotions tied them together. He had to make this work.
His phone buzzed as a text came through.
“You’re not taking care of it. Must I remind you we’ll handle it ours
elves if you can’t.”
He grabbed the steering wheel and strangled it with no mercy.
Cache got out of his car and looked at the big, bold neon sign on the rundown building that said “Motel.” It had the feel of an old Hitchcock movie where a serial killer was staying in the room next door. No one sat at the front desk, and he had no desire to be late for work, especially after missing yesterday. He smacked the bell on the counter multiple times.
“Take it easy on the bell. What did it do to you?” a young woman with a nose ring asked as she came from the back room. “How long will you be staying?”
“A night. Maybe two,” he said.
She looked at his hand and raised her eyes. “You’re married?”
He didn’t like the way she asked that question, like she was his therapist trying to get him to admit some kind of guilt.
“Yes,” he said with hostility.
“I’m sorry, we just don’t get many married men here, if you know what I mean. It’s not really the best place to stay.” She looked at the security camera with a lifted brow.
“Is everything all right?” Cache asked.
She nodded her head and bit her bottom lip. “Yep. Will you be staying one or two nights?” she asked again.
“I’ll pay for two.”
“Of course.” She entered his information into the computer and gave him the total before accepting his credit card. “You’re in room 204.” Her hand shook as she gave him his card and room key.
Cache snatched it from her hand, and she pulled her arm away, fast. He gazed around the grungy room and nodded at the girl before he left. “Thanks.”
He got his things out of the car and headed toward his room. Cache threw his suits over his shoulder, not paying attention to where he was going, and ran into a man about 6’7” with greasy hair and a thin build.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Let me help you get those.” The man leaned over to get a suit coat and tie from off the ground and placed them back over Cache’s shoulder.
“Thanks. See you around,” Cache said, walking back toward his room. He spotted 204 and opened the door. Once inside, he flung his stuff on the bed and smacked the wall.
Now what do I do?
Twenty-Four
Seth Duncan
Grand Capital Motel
9:30 a.m.
The guy that just moved into the room next to his had bags under his eyes that resembled a lunar eclipse.
Poor guy.
How bad could it be? By the looks of it, he had a nice job or had inherited a chunk of change. He carried tailored clothes over his arm, yet he was staying at this dump. The man fascinated him, and he couldn’t help but let curiosity get the best of him. A loud bang crashed into his wall.
Great, he’s got anger issues.
Seth huffed and went to get ready for his day. He would look for a job, starting with the Lost Treasures Antique Store. He brushed his teeth and put extra soap under his armpits. The evergreen scent came close to wearing cologne, just a tad cakier. He grabbed a sanitizer wipe and cleaned the phone in his room before he brought it to his ear.
“Yes, hello,” he said to the operator. “Could I please get some extra shampoo sent to the room?”
“Sir, we’re short-handed this morning. You’ll need to drop by the front desk to pick it up.”
“Okay. Thanks, I guess. On second thought, I’ll just get it later.” He hung up the phone and gazed at the clock.
Broken.
Cracking his knuckles, he counted to twenty. Being punctual was the only option for him. No clock would make things trickier to accomplish that goal. He shut the door and began walking. Ivy Lane was only a block away. If he hurried, he could make it on time and make a good impression.
Drawing near the store, a camera crew parked in a spot across from the antique store.
Oh, man. She’s going to need all the help she can get today.
He picked up pace and got to the front of the store where the sign said, “Open.” He let himself in and locked the door.
“Hello. Is anyone here?”
“I’ll be right there,” a voice yelled from the back of the store.
He moved up and down the aisles, peering at all the items on display. A footstep shuffled behind him. “I’m sorry. Can I help you?”
Turning around, Seth glanced at her matted hair and swollen cheeks. The tears welling up in her blue eyes made them sparkle like the sun gliding across a waterfall, ripples of deep blue mixed in with turquoise. “You need to get away from the window.”
She froze and grabbed a candlestick holder made of glass off the shelf and held it over her head. “Don’t you come near me. Get the hell out of my store before I call the cops.” The distress of using a beautiful piece of work as a weapon showed all over her face.
Adaline moved forward toward him, still holding tight to the object. “Get out.”
Walking toward the door, he stopped. “Just so you know, ma’am, the news crew is right outside. If you open the door, you’ll be front and center.”
“Why should I believe anything you say?”
“I can tell by the way you’re looking at me. You’re afraid, but not afraid that I’m going to hurt you.”
She lowered the candle holder. “Are you some sort of psychic?”
“The eyes tell you all you need to know. I don’t need to read minds to understand that.”
“I agree with you on that.” Adaline went to a side window and peered out.
Seth stood near her, watching the Channel 5 news crew sit on the curb in front of her store, preying like vultures, waiting for her next move. She braced herself against the wall.
“I told you it wasn’t a good idea,” Seth said.
Her breathing was out of sync, and she hunched over, staring at the ground. “What did you say your name was?”
“Seth.”
“Okay, Seth. What are you doing here?”
“I need a job. I thought we could help each other,” he said. “It looks like you could use some assistance around your store.”
She crossed her arms and gazed at him like she was trying to peer into his soul. “What’s your story? I need to know something about you before I let a stranger help me run my store.”
“I just got out of a prison.” He stopped and placed his hand over his mouth. Did that just come out? Yes, it did.
Adaline laughed nervously. “You’re serious?”
He gulped. “Yes. This was a bad idea coming here, thinking I could move on with my life. Sorry to bother you.”
“No. Wait a minute. What were you in for?”
“Protecting someone I care about that couldn’t protect themselves.” He flinched.
Being locked up, even if it wasn’t his fault, was what he deserved. He had sins to pay for. Taking the blame for someone else so they could have a better life than he did was his saving grace.
“What happened?”
“There was a fire.” He scratched the side of his face repeatedly.
Adaline’s face whitened.
“Are you okay? You should sit down,” he said.
“No, no. I’m good. I just didn’t sleep well last night,” she said, not looking directly at him. “For some odd reason, I feel like I know you. Have we met before the other day?”
He grinned. “I would remember you.”
“You just seem oddly familiar.” She brushed her short, blonde hair back. It tucked perfectly around her ear. “You can start today. Now, actually. I could use help stocking a few things on the shelves and in the display cases.”
Seth patted his pants and grabbed a box in front of him. “Where do you want this?”
“In the back would be fine,” she said, pointing toward a large closet.
Now he could start over and make a new life for himself, starting with Adaline.
Twenty-Five
Adaline Rushner
Lost Treasures
10:00 a.m.
Seth mentioning a fire sparked some
thing in her. Not an enlightening fuel, but a darkness that made her feel as though she were choking or being strangled. Adaline hated fires from the day her parents were killed in one. They had never treated her well, but she still felt a sense of remorse for their death. This was something else, and she couldn’t figure it out.
What really happened the day my parents died?
After reading Leora’s journal yesterday, she couldn’t shake the feeling that what she thought she knew to be true wasn’t true at all.
Why was she even asking this question when she knew what happened that day?
You’re losing it, Adaline.
She grabbed at her head.
How did I get home that night, and where was Aunt Arlene?
Adaline tugged her hair and pressed her thumb on the owl locket around her neck.
Stop it.
Banging sounded outside her store. She was quickly reminded about the Channel 5 news, stalking her for a comment about her girls being murdered.
Maybe I should just tell them what happened?
Who would believe her, though, when her own husband didn’t?
“Are there more boxes I could move to the back?” Seth asked.
“Um, yes. Over on the side there, by the restroom.” Adaline shook her head and twirled a loose piece of hair, dangling in her face.
She felt like a wasp’s nest came and sat on her brain, clouding up her thoughts. Her body was struggling to move at its normal pace.
Adaline huffed.
She grabbed a box by the bathroom and unloaded the contents of the new creations and finds. A gold and turquoise watch with butterflies centered on the face had been one of her favorite pieces. Adaline debated even putting that one on display or keeping it for herself. She put it on the display shelf, with the other jewelry pieces, nicely surrounding the watch as the centerpiece.
“Ma’am?” Seth asked.
“You don’t need to call me ma’am. Adaline is just fine.”
“Okay. A man is staring in your window. Would you like me to ask him to leave?” he asked.
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