She Can Hide (She Can #4)(46)

Abby stiffened. “Krista cleaned herself up.”

“Is she clean now?” Ethan hated asking the hard questions, but Derek’s safety had to take precedence.

Abby’s eyes glittered with moisture. “Does his file say anything about the two older boys who beat him and tried to molest him while he was in foster care?” Her voice turned tight and angry.

“No.” Ethan blew out a hard breath. “Poor kid.”

“Yeah.” Abby sniffed. “The system is a big roulette wheel.”

The tone of her voice set off an alarm inside Ethan. “Were you ever in it?”

Abby rolled a piece of hay between her fingers. “Once, for a couple of weeks when I was seven. My mother had been drinking, and a neighbor called social services. Scariest time of my life.”

Ethan’s insides clenched with pity. “What happened?”

“Nothing really. The parents pretty much left me alone. Other than providing meals, they didn’t do much for any of the kids. It was the other foster children who scared me. The oldest was a girl of about fourteen. She stole my doll on the first night and made it clear she’d hurt me if I breathed a word of it. She didn’t need to threaten me. Like most of the others, I was already conditioned to keep my mouth shut.”

The image of a frightened seven-year-old Abby sent Ethan’s empty gut into another spasm.

“I’m sorry.”

“Mom sobered up and got me back.” Her voice steadied. “It never happened again.”

“Did she drink often?”

Abby lifted a noncommittal shoulder. “No. Mostly after a rare visit from my father. He was the love of her life, but he was already married and refused to leave his wife and kids.”

Ethan pulled her closer. They stood in silence for a few minutes, then her body relaxed and her head dropped onto his shoulder. Warmth filled Ethan, the cold of the barn forgotten. He kissed the top of her head. “You should go eat.”

She lifted her head, rose onto her toes, and gave him a soft kiss. “I can wait for you.”

Ethan liked the sound of that. Too much. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered vowing to simplify his life, but it seemed he was doing the exact opposite. Abby and Derek were working their way into his heart. And he’d taken in two horses he needed about as much as frostbite.

While he teased Abby about his mother’s interference, he was glad she’d taken the initiative. Faulkner was dead, but Ethan couldn’t shake the anxiety that gripped him when he thought about Abby’s case.

Maybe it was Faulkner who’d tried to kill her. But why? What did he have to gain? Risking freedom for revenge didn’t make sense when the man was already involved in a lawsuit that could score him cash.

Despite Abby’s claim that Abrams screwed up her case, Ethan hoped retired detective Roy Abrams had some ideas. Because if it hadn’t been Faulkner who poisoned her, then who wanted Abby dead?




Shivering on his front porch, Derek turned the knob. The front door was locked. Weird. Mom never locked up until Derek was home. And when she was lost in her current boyfriend, it was usually Derek who locked the house up for the night.

He fished his key from his front pocket. The rumble of the garage door startled him. He peered around a porch post. Joe carried a black lawn and leaf bag out of the garage.

Huh. Tomorrow wasn’t trash day. Apprehension trickled down Derek’s spine.

The garage door rolled closed. Joe hefted the bag down the driveway. He tossed it into the bed of his truck, got into the vehicle, and drove away. Strange.

Derek went into the house. “Mom?”

He followed the sound of the fridge opening and closing to the kitchen. His mom was popping the top off a beer. He could tell by the glassy shine in her eyes that it wasn’t her first.

“What’s Joe doing?” he asked.

Fear broke through the haze in Mom’s gaze. “I don’t know. He said he had to run an errand, and he’d be right back.” She picked the edge of the beer label and glanced at the door.

“No work tonight?”

She worked a tiny strip of label and turned the bottle, peeling the paper away in a long strip like an apple skin. “Maybe tomorrow.” She raised the bottle to her lips and drank.

Derek knew better than to press the issue. If she felt overwhelmed, she’d only drink more. She took her beer into the family room. Derek checked the pantry. She hadn’t gone shopping. Good thing he’d filled up on spaghetti and meatballs at Ethan’s house.

A stab of envy hit him in his full belly. Ethan had cool brothers and a mom who would never drink until she forgot to feed him. Mrs. Hale wouldn’t tolerate the likes of Joe either. Ethan was winning Abby over too, with the same quiet way that he charmed that horse.

Derek pictured Joe again. What had been in that trash bag?

He went to the living room and peered through the window at the street. Joe wasn’t back yet. Derek hurried back through the house to the door in the laundry room that led into the garage. His gaze swept over the piles of rusted junk. Nothing unusual.

Derek traced his steps into the house. The basement door was under the stairwell in the living room. He opened the door and flipped on the light. A strange smell drifted up the steps. Derek started down, the meatballs and tomato sauce tumbling through his belly. His sneakers squeaked on the wooden treads.