She Can Hide (She Can #4)(12)

And neither should his wife.

Ryland hadn’t always been a good husband. Like in his business, he’d taken what he wanted without regard for the repercussions. Success built ego. Once a man’s head swelled, he thought he was entitled to everything.

Would pride be his downfall?

For thirty-five years, Marlene had been an excellent wife and mother. She’d married him before his success was realized. She didn’t deserve to have Abby Foster rubbed in her face. In fact, how long had it been since he’d bought Marlene a gift? If he couldn’t remember, it had been too long. He’d stop at the jewelers on the way home. It seemed to him that the mother of his children should be rewarded at the celebration of the grandchild’s birthday, though no bracelet could make up for his breach of their marital vows. He couldn’t undo his past mistakes.

Unlocking his phone, he returned his wife’s call, confident that Kenneth would handle the situation with Abby Foster.

Ryland had made some mistakes in his sixty-five years. Unfortunately, many of his transgressions were of a most permanent nature that couldn’t be undone.

But this was a problem he could fix, though the solution might cost him everything.





CHAPTER FIVE

Sunlight sparkled on fresh snow. On the cement apron in front of the hospital, Abby squinted at the glare. She zipped up her jacket against the midmorning chill.

“Are you all right?” Brooke stopped next to her car, parked at the curb in the pickup zone. “Do I need to take you back inside?”

“No.” Abby lifted her head and inhaled. Crisp winter air filled her lungs. “I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

“OK.”

They settled in the car. Brooke drove slowly out of the parking lot and headed toward town. Early traffic on a post-storm Saturday was light. The road had been plowed, but a thin film of white still dusted the surface. Patches of black ice lurked underneath. The shiny areas and the fuzzy throb in Abby’s head were a reminder to drive carefully in bad weather.

Brooke turned onto Main Street. Stately Colonials and Victorians on large lots lined the road, some converted to offices, apartments, or stores. Fresh snow, plowed after last night’s storm, edged the road. Dwellings shrank in size as they drove away from the business district. By the time they reached Abby’s development, tired houses crowded together on tiny lots. With some of the lowest-priced homes in town, the neighborhood was a mixed bag of senior citizens who’d lived there forever and young owners willing to renovate, like Abby.

“I dropped Zeus off earlier.” Brooke had kept Abby’s dog overnight. They pulled up in front of Abby’s narrow house.

“Thanks.” Relief swept through Abby. Security systems could be breached, not that she could afford one, but no criminal could fool her dog’s senses. As long as Zeus was there, she knew the house was safe. No one was in the closet. Ready to—

Stop it.

There was zero similarity between yesterday’s accident and what happened to her three years ago. She remembered every single second of that nightmare. If only she could rid herself of those memories instead of yesterday’s.

“Thanks for shoveling.” Abby’s mind was still racing with missing time as she trudged up the cleared walk.

“Wasn’t me,” Brooke said. “The snow was gone when I got here this morning.”

Abby glanced at the Tanners’ house next door. Twelve-year-old Derek must have shoveled both properties this morning. Today was Saturday. He’d be off from school. A rusted sedan pulled into the driveway. Derek’s mother, Krista, got out. She wore a thin jacket unzipped over a black polyester waitress uniform. She must have worked the breakfast shift.

Abby waved. “Thank Derek for shoveling my walk, will you?”

“Sure.” Krista smiled through an exhausted face, turned, and went into a house that looked as tired as its owner. Or was Krista hungover? The new boyfriend’s pickup wasn’t at the curb. For Derek’s sake Abby hoped the guy had moved on. Krista had crappy taste in men, and she invariably started drinking whenever she picked up a new loser. Her affairs didn’t usually last long, but Derek would spend a lot of time at Abby’s house for the duration. Worry churned in Abby’s still unsettled stomach, but there wasn’t anything she could do about the situation. Derek was street smart. He’d gotten by long before Abby moved in.

Brooke stayed close as Abby slipped her key in the lock. The familiar smell of damp dog greeted her nostrils as she stepped over the threshold. The mastiff greeted her with a high-pitched whine and rubbed against her legs like an enormous cat. Abby’s knees buckled, and she grabbed for the hall table to steady herself. “Hello, Zeus.”

“He missed you,” Brooke laughed.

Abby didn’t have to lean down to scratch his massive square head, but today, she knelt and wrapped both arms around his neck. Burrowing her face in his fur, she sighed. Abby didn’t trust many things, but Zeus made the short list. “I missed you too. How about a cookie?”

She released him, straightened, and walked to the kitchen in the back of the house. Zeus padded at her side. Abby fished in the cookie jar for an extra-large dog biscuit, which Zeus took with care from her hand.

Brooke tilted the blinds. Sunlight flooded the small room. “I’m told I’m not the best cook, but can I make you some toast?”