She Can Hide (She Can #4)(49)

Breakfast was noisy and fast. The three men ate more food in one meal than Abby and her mother had consumed in a week.

Two hours later, Abby and Ethan were on the way to see Roy Abrams in Greenland, New Jersey, a shore town fifty miles north of Atlantic City.

“Does he know we’re coming?” Abby asked.

“No,” Ethan said. “After what you told me yesterday, I thought it might be best if we just dropped in on him. The cop who gave me his address said if it’s too cold to fish, Roy should be home.”

“What else did the Harris cop say?” Abby plucked an animal hair from her jeans.

“They don’t have much to say yet. There were a few defensive bruises on Faulkner, but his struggle couldn’t have lasted long. He died of suffocation. No sign that the room was broken into, but the lock was old and outdated. A toddler could’ve picked it. They’ll call me when they have the full autopsy report.”

“Faulkner wasn’t a genius, but he was cagey and physically strong.” Abby sipped coffee from a travel mug. “How did someone overpower him that easily?” Faulkner had tossed her over his shoulder as if she were a bag of mulch. She doubted he’d allowed his muscles to deteriorate in prison.

“I don’t know.” Ethan exited the Garden State Parkway. “Hopefully the medical examiner will figure that out.”

He followed the voice on his GPS and turned into a retirement community of nearly identical one-story homes. A boat and trailer dominated the rear yard of Roy Abrams’s house and distinguished it from his neighbors’ cookie-cutter units.

Ethan parked at the curb. “How were things between you and Detective Abrams? Do you want to wait in the car?”

“No. I’ll come in.” Abby unsnapped her seat belt. “I didn’t really talk to Abrams that much. He interviewed me after I was pulled out of the well, but I spent more time at the prosecutor’s office prepping for the trial. Abrams avoided me, probably because he’d messed up so badly. The missing address issue didn’t come out until later.”

“You never had a confrontation with him?”

“No.” She stared at the house that belonged to the man whose incompetence nearly killed her. Coffee and anxiety stirred up acid in her gut. No butterflies for her. Tension flapped in her stomach like the wings of a giant luna moth. “I won’t hide anymore, Ethan.”

“OK then. Let’s go.” Ethan gave her hand a quick squeeze before opening his door. “Maybe guilt will loosen his tongue.”

They headed up the walk. Abby squinted against sunbeams reflecting off the freshly waxed paint of a Cadillac. “His car looks new.”

“The boat does too.” Ethan put his hand on the small of her back. She didn’t need steering, and the possessive gesture sent those nerves in her belly flying in a whole different direction.

Ethan knocked on the door. The sound of footsteps sounded through the door, but the door didn’t open.

He pressed the doorbell but nothing happened. “Must be broken. It sounds like he’s in the back of the house. Maybe he can’t hear well.” He jogged off the cement stoop.

Abby followed him around to the rear yard. Ethan climbed three concrete steps to the back door. He raised his hand to knock. The door flew open. An arm jutted out, striking Ethan in the jaw and knocking him off the step. Abby skidded to a stop next to Ethan on the brown grass.

The man on the stoop was tall and slim, wearing a black hoodie pulled over his head and a black bandana over his face. His eyes were gray and cold as stainless steel. He took a step toward Ethan, stunned on the grass. Abby reached down and pulled Ethan’s gun from the holster. She pointed it at the man with both hands, snapping into correct shooting form as if her mother was still alive and shouting instructions in her ear.

The man changed course and headed for the back of the yard at a dead run.

Ethan leaped to his feet. His shocked gaze landed on Abby, then his gun in her hand. She handed him the weapon.

“Wait here.” He took off after the intruder.

“Like hell.” Abby stuck close to him as he sprinted after the fleeing man. There was no way she was waiting by herself. There could be more than one intruder, and Ethan had the gun. The intruder disappeared over the chain-link fence that led into the neighbor’s yard.

“Hey,” Ethan yelled and pulled ahead. He vaulted over the fence. Landing, he yelled something back at her.

But Abby couldn’t make out the words. She stopped to climb the fence. Her jacket caught on a metal loop. Why hadn’t she learned to hurdle on the track team? Ethan drew ahead.

Once on open land, though, Abby caught up. The guy they were chasing set a brutal pace, and they didn’t gain any ground. He disappeared down an alley lined on both sides with some type of evergreen shrubs. The greenery blocked visibility. They stopped. Breathing hard, Ethan shot her a what the hell glare and pushed her behind him as he peered around the corner. An engine started.

Ethan sprinted down the alley. Abby followed. They emerged just in time to see a dark sedan disappear around a corner two blocks away. Ethan took off after it, cutting through a service alley. Abby kept pace. The sedan halted at a stop sign.

“Stop!” Ethan darted out in front of the vehicle, took an official looking stance, and pointed his gun at the windshield. Confusion and then frustration played over his face. He lowered the gun.