Chapter Twenty-Six
Caleb
I check my watch again for what feels like the ten thousandth time in the last ten minutes. But I'm nervous. Fidgety. It's not like Abby to be late. That's something she's always been a stickler about – punctuality. But as I look at my watch again, I see that she's twenty minutes late.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I check – again – and find no missed calls, no voicemails, and no text messages.
“Can I get you another beer?”
I look up into the smiling face of the waitress. She's been flirting with me ever since I walked through the door, but I'm actually not interested. If she'd flirted with me a week ago, I can guarantee I'd have her out in the car, banging her brains out right now.
But things unexpectedly changed. Very unexpectedly.
“Yeah, if you wouldn't mind,” I say. “That'd be great.”
“Comin' right up.”
She walks away, putting an extra swish in her hips for my benefit. I admire her ass as she walks away, but then catch myself doing it and put a stop to it. I shake my head and scratch my beard.
“What in the hell is going on with me?” I mutter to myself.
Things with Abby have taken a turn I never saw coming. We've spent a lot of time together over the last few days and have reconnected – something I never thought would happen. Not in a million years. I never intended for any of this to happen. My only intent was to get into town, say goodbye to Rick, and get the hell out again.
Obviously, nothing has gone the way I intended.
It's not necessarily a bad thing though. I have to say that being able to open up to Abby, to answer all of those questions that have been troubling her for so long and maybe, help give her a little sense of peace is a good thing. I know it's helped her work through some of her long-standing issues. And strangely enough, it's even helped me work through some of mine.
I honestly feel closer to Abby now than I did even way back when. I feel like there's something deeper at work between us. I'm not sure if she feels that way or not – we've not had a conversation even remotely close to addressing that – but it's how I feel.
When I first saw her out on the street, my heart almost stopped. I was sorely tempted to skip town. But I'm glad I didn't. For a lot of reasons. I don't know where things with Abby are headed. I don't honestly know if they're headed anywhere. But I find that I really want to walk down that road, see how far it goes, and then take it from there.
It was unthinkable a week ago, but I really want to see if there actually is something still there between Abby and I, or if we're both just caught up in the nostalgia of the past.
“Here you go.”
The waitress set a fresh bottle of beer down on the table in front of me.
“Thanks,” I say and pick up the bottle.
“You know, I get off in about an hour,” she says.
I give her a soft smile. “Thanks, doll,” I say. “But I'm waiting for somebody.”
“You've been waiting an awful long time,” she said, trailing a perfectly manicured fingertip across my shoulder. “A girl shouldn't keep a man like you waiting.”
I laugh softly. “Maybe another time,” I say.
“Well, just in case your mystery girl doesn't show,” she purrs. “I'll be off in an hour.”
I give her a smile and just shake my head. “I'll keep that in mind.”
She saunters off and I check my watch again – simply for lack of something better to do. I grab my phone again and punch in her number. I hold the phone to my ear as I take a quick pull of my beer. The phone rings three times before her voicemail picks up the line.
“Hey, Abby,” I say. “It's me. I'm down at the Wagon, just kind of wondering where you are. Call me.”
I take another long pull of my beer and start to wonder if maybe this is her grand payback. If this is how she's punishing me for vanishing all those years ago – by standing me up. There is a sinking feeling in my stomach, but then I reel it back in. That doesn't sound like Abby. She's not that petty of a person. As I think about it, I honestly don't think she'd just stand me up to spite me. Even after all that we've gone through together, that doesn't seem like something she'd do.
I know it's only twenty minutes, but I start to grow concerned. Something just feels – off. Call it intuition, a sixth sense – call it whatever you want – but something doesn't feel right to me. Maybe, I'm making too much of it. Maybe, she got hung up somewhere and hasn't had a chance to call. I don't know, but the fact that she's late and hasn't called or texted me – it has alarm bells ringing in my head.
Especially knowing her ex-boyfriend is out there and has been stalking her.
I'm almost about to call her again, but figure that's going to do no good. So instead, I call over to Greenwood's. The call is picked up on the second ring.
“Greenwood's,” Brooke says. “How can I help you this evening?”
“Brooke, it's Caleb.”
“Oh,” she says, her voice growing a little frosty.
Although things between Abby and I seem to be going well, Brooke has been less than receptive to my coming back into her sister's life. I can't say I blame her or don't understand. Only now, do I fully understand and appreciate the damage I did leaving the way I had. How badly I'd hurt her.
But we were working through those things. We were starting to heal. It was going to take some time, but Abby was going to be okay. We were both going to be okay. Whether or not this rekindled thing between us went anywhere? That was anybody's guess.
Hopefully in time though, as Abby healed and grew stronger – assuming I remained in the picture – the ice between Brooke and I would thaw.
“What can I do for you, Caleb?”
“I was actually wondering if you'd seen or talked to Abby?”
“No, not today, why?”
“We were supposed to meet for drinks tonight,” I say. “And she hasn't showed up.”
“Sucks, doesn't it?” Brooke says. “When somebody just ups and disappears on you?”
I sigh. “Look, I get it, Brooke,” I say. “You're still pissed. Fine. But she's not responding to calls or texts. She's not here. And you haven't seen her. So, can you drop the attitude for a minute and help me out here? This isn't like her.”
“Fine,” she says. “Give me your number. Let me make a couple of calls.”
I give her my number and disconnect the call. I take a long pull of my beer, my concern starting to grow. And with each minute that passes by, that concern grows even more. Ten minutes later, I'm on the verge of ordering another beer when my phone rings. I snatch it up and connect the call.
“Yeah,” I say.
“She's not answering my calls either,” Brooke says. “And she's not answering her home or office phones.”
“Does she ever just disappear like this?” I ask. “Is this normal?”
“No,” Brooke says. “She never just drops out like this. Communicating is kind of a thing with her.”
I recognize the jab she's taking, but don't take the bait. I don't take it because I can also hear the concern in Brooke's voice. Hearing that slight quiver of fear makes my adrenaline rush because I know it's real. She's genuinely worried.
“I'm scared, Caleb,” she says. “I don't know where my sister is.”
I need to defuse the situation. The last thing I need is for Brooke to go off the rails. I don't know anything just yet, least of all that there is an actual reason to be worried. For all I know, Abby is sitting at home watching TV and drinking a glass of wine, congratulating herself for sticking it to me.
“Don't worry, Brooke,” I say. “Let me look into it and I'll get back to you. The important thing right now is for you to not stress yourself out. Abby could very well just be sitting at home to make a point to me.”
“If that were the case, she would have answered when I called, Caleb.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But maybe not. I'm going to go over to her house and see if she's there. Just sit tight and try not to worry.”
“Yeah, I'll go ahead and stop the sun from rising too while I'm at it.”
“More power to you.”
I disconnect the call and throw some money down on the table. The waitress gives me a disappointed little pout, so I just shrug my shoulders and leave the bar.
I drive a little too fast over to Abby's place, but my intuition is telling me that I need to get there quickly. I jump out of the car and hurry up to her front door, knocking and ringing the bell. The lights are all off and the house is dark – making those alarm bells in my head ring even louder.
I always keep a lockpicking kit in my coat pocket, so I pull it out and go to work. I have the door open in less than ten seconds. The house is completely silent as the door swings inward.
“Abby?” I call out.
I wait a second but get no answer. Flipping on lights as I go, I search her entire house and find that it's as empty as it looked from the street. She's not there.
I back out of the house, making sure to lock the door behind me and then walk back to my car.
“Where in the hell are you, Abby?”
I drive quickly over to the office building where her practice is and find that she's not there either. Abby has just fallen off the face of the planet. I run a hand through my hair and try to quiet my mind. I need to think. Need to have my head clear. Need to come up with a plan of action.
I lean against my car and take several deep breaths. As I do, calm descends over me and I'm able to start thinking a little more clearly again. If Abby's batshit crazy ex wasn't running around out there, I might not be so worried. I get the appeal of some time alone. The necessity of it.
But the fact is, her batshit crazy ex is running around out there. And has already proven that he can't stay away from her. Had already proven – to me, at least – that he's dangerous. Which is why the alarm bells in my head are ringing so hard.
The first thing I need to do is find out where she is. Once I do that, I can assess the situation and see if there's any reason to panic. Her location might tell me whether she's been taken or whether she's just taking some time to herself.
I punch in a number and put the phone to my ear. The call is connected during the second ring.
“Long time no hear,” Tony says. “I assume by the fact that you're still up there, the homecoming's gone better than expected?”
“Yeah, in some ways,” I say. “But listen, I've got a situation I need your help with. I don't have my equipment with me and I need to track a cell phone.”
“Situation serious?” he asks. “Need me up there?”
“No, I can handle it, but thanks,” I say. “I just need a twenty on the cell phone.”
“Roger that,” Tony says. “Give me the number.”
I give him Abby's cell phone number and wait a few minutes while he does the work on his end. A couple of minutes later, he gets back on the line.
“Looks like she's on the other side of the Strait,” Tony says. “She's in Canada, man.”
“Canada?” I ask.
“Looks like,” he says. “There's about ten miles of water between Washington and Canada – she's on the other side of that water. I take it that she's not supposed to be there?”
“No, not at all,” I say. “Can you send the information to my phone?”
“Already done, brother,” he says. “And listen, if you need help, I'm on the next flight.”
“Thanks, Tony,” I say. “Appreciate you doing me a solid.”
“Any time at all.”
I disconnect the call and then punch in Brooke's number. Now that I know where Abby is, I can go about formulating a plan. Brooke picks up on the first ring.
“Brooke,” I say, not waiting for her to speak. “We've got a problem. I need your help.”