She Can Hide (She Can #4)(28)

Abby’s curled body was stiffer than his dress blues. He opened the laptop. He doubted she would see anything, but the distraction might be helpful. Besides, she looked like she was withdrawing, and Ethan wanted to keep her engaged.

Her gaze fixed on the screen, her expression unreadable. Most people would be losing it if they’d learned they’d been poisoned, but Abby had gotten more composed after hearing the news. She hadn’t even flinched at the possibility that she’d been raped.

What. The. Hell?

Ethan tapped on the touchpad to wake the hibernating computer and clicked on the media player. The open file was paused. He clicked PLAY, and the segment rolled.

With bleak eyes, she watched the exodus of students and teachers. What was she thinking? “Let me know if you see anyone out of place or someone you don’t recognize.”

She slid further down in the chair and hugged her legs harder. “OK.” Staring at the screen, Abby pressed her knuckle against her mouth.

She’d only lived in Westbury for two years. Ethan needed to know everything about her life prior to the move. “Any chance you have an angry ex?”

“No.” She didn’t take her eyes off the computer screen. “I haven’t dated anyone since I moved here.”

“Social media accounts?” he asked in case he’d missed her pages in his Internet search. The last young woman attacked in Westbury had broadcast her every activity on the Internet.

“None.”

Ethan had thought maybe if they were alone, she’d talk to him. He was obviously wrong, and her one-word answers weren’t going to help him solve her case. If anyone had a chance to get some information, it was Brooke. Ethan hoped the chief was making that point to Brooke right now. But how could Ethan get Abby to trust him?

“How about family?”

She blinked. The corner of her mouth trembled, but she smoothed out her expression with a sniff. “There’s no one.”

“No one?” As soon as the surprised words left his mouth, Ethan silently cursed his lack of tact.

“My mother died shortly after the trial,” she said in a monotone voice. “I have no siblings, and I haven’t seen my father in years. He wasn’t a big part of my childhood.”

“I’m sorry.” Ethan tilted his head and tried to catch her gaze. Her eyes flickered to his and returned to the computer with a frightening lack of emotion. He’d seen her with her young neighbor and her dog. She wasn’t the cold, controlled person next to him.

What was going on behind that guarded expression? Why was she wearing it? Ethan had to find a way to break through the brick wall she’d constructed. She needed to share whatever secret she was holding back. What he didn’t know could get her killed.

The chief appeared in the doorway. “The warden just confirmed that Zeke Faulkner was released from prison two weeks ago.”




Abby opened her eyes to total darkness. Her head pulsed with pain. She blinked. Was she blind? She reached up and felt her eyelids with the pads of her fingers. Either something was wrong with her eyes, or the room was totally dark. She touched her forehead and scalp. When she probed behind her left ear, agony blasted in her skull like a bullhorn. Her stomach heaved. Riding the wave of nausea, she curled on her side and breathed through her nose.

The pain eased back to a dull throb. She lay still and listened. A faint scratch sounded on her left, so soft that she turned her head and strained her hearing to catch a repeat. But all she could hear was the muffled sound of wind from above.

She felt the floor around her. Dirt. Her palm slapped a puddle she sincerely hoped was water. Was she in a shed or basement? With slow and deliberate motions so as not to jar her aching brain, she lifted her head then rose to a sitting position. She raised her hands overhead but encountered no ceiling. With one arm still lifted to shield her head, she eased to her feet. She wobbled. Several moments passed until her legs steadied. She reached high over her head. Still she could feel no ceiling. She turned in a circle, arms outstretched.

Sliding her feet across the ground, she shuffled forward. In two steps, her hands hit a rough surface. Her fingers probed. The material was dry and crumbly. Some sort of rough stone.

Where was she? How long had she been here?

Long enough for her hearing to sharpen. A buzz sounded behind her. Following the sound, her head jerked around. An insect brushed against her face. Abby swiped at it, recoiling and banging her elbow on the wall.

She turned around and shuffled carefully in the other direction, each foot sliding forward to make sure the ground topography didn’t change. Two shuffles forward and her fingers hit another wall. She waved her hands horizontally. The wall curved. Her hole was cylindrical and barely wider than her arm span.

Something on her body jingled. Her fingers searched for the source. Straps crisscrossed her torso. She traced their presence around her chest, waist, and the top of each thigh. Cold metal rings hung from the ensemble.

A harness? Oh my God. Rappelling gear.

Even though everything was black, she looked up on reflex. He had lowered her into a hole in the ground. A well?

She stretched her hands high. Nothing was above. She’d been lowered deep into the bowels of the earth. Her eyes probed the darkness above. Fear crawled through her belly. Where was she? Where did the man go who’d taken her? And when was he coming back?

Abby sank into the cold leather of Brooke’s passenger seat and tried to shake off the memory of her kidnapping.