“Are you all right, Mrs. Abbott?”
“Yes, fine. Just … retracing my steps.”
“According to my records, you checked out at eleven-forty.”
Bailey could tell by the woman’s voice that she found this call very odd. No doubt it would provide lunch-break laughs later.
She might as well make it a really funny story, as long as she was at it. “And I’m pregnant, right? Around five weeks?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the receptionist managed, voice suddenly high and squeaky. “Almost six weeks now.”
“Thank you,” Bailey said, “for your help and holding back your—”
“Bailey, get off the phone.”
At Logan’s voice, she whirled around, the device slipping from her fingers. She bent and scooped it up, seeing that either the receptionist or the drop had ended the call.
He looked strange. “What’s wrong? I thought you were going—” She looked beyond him. “Where’s Tony?”
“At the barn. Bailey—”
She heard the sound of tires on the gravel drive. Her blood went cold. “Who’s that?”
“The police— Not Billy Ray. The sheriff’s office.”
“But how…” She shook her head, confused. “Why?”
“A friend of mine called and gave me a heads-up. They want to question me about early Saturday morning.”
“Early Saturday morning,” she repeated. “I don’t understand—”
But then she did. The woman Paul had told her about. Dixie, the one who had gone missing.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Tuesday, April 22
10:15 A.M.
“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Abbott.”
She nodded, numb. She felt Logan’s glance and realized their visit with her was another thing she hadn’t told him. She felt sick.
“How are you feeling? Better?”
“A little,” she managed, the taste of tin in her mouth.
“Have you remembered anything new?”
Again she felt Logan’s gaze. He seemed to come alert beside her “No.” She shook her head. “Nothing.”
Rumsfeld’s gaze traveled between the two of them. “That’s so odd, Mrs. Abbott. Dr. Bauer thought your full memory of events could return within the day.”
“Or take as long as a week,” she said evenly, surprising herself. “It’s only been a couple of days.”
The detective cocked an eyebrow. “Clock’s ticking.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that, Detective.”
He only smiled slightly and shifted his attention to Logan. “And how are you today, Mr. Abbott?”
“Just dandy.”
“Glad to hear it. I need to ask you a few questions. About this past Friday.” Logan didn’t respond and he went on. “Where were you Friday night?”
“At the hospital. With my wife.”
“What about early Saturday morning?”
“With my wife.”
“The whole time?”
“Pretty much. I didn’t want to leave her, in case she came to.”
He’d hesitated a fraction of a second. Bailey heard it and she knew the detectives had, too. Why? What didn’t he want to say?
“Pretty much. So, you did leave her side?”
“To clear my head, yes. Get some fresh air.”
“And that’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Any idea what time that might have been?”
“No. But it was late.”
“I’m sure we can find that out.” He glanced down at his notebook, then back up at Logan. “So, you just stepped outside for fresh air?”
“Yes.”
“You own several different vehicles, is that correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you recall which one you were driving Friday?”
“The truck. A Ford F-150.”
They already knew, Bailey realized. That he’d left her room, the time, what he had been driving. They were testing him. But why?
She decided to ask. “What’s this all about, Detective?”
“A missing woman. Dixie Jenkins. Last seen early Saturday morning. Getting into a black pickup truck.”
It was all Bailey could do to keep from gasping. Beside her, Logan stiffened.
“You know anything about that, Mr. Abbott?”
“How could I?”
“Did you know Dixie?”
“I do know Dixie. Not well. Over the years, Travis, that’s her daddy, has done some work for me.”
Rumsfeld stood. Carlson followed. “Thank you for your time,” he said, then looked at her. “You still have the card I gave you yesterday?”
“I do, Detectives.”
They walked with them to the front door. She couldn’t wait to have them out of her house, the door shut behind them.
The detectives started through, then stopped. “When your memory returns, or for any other reason, call me or my partner. You recall promising me you would?”
She nodded. He turned back to Logan. “Your first wife, what was her name?”
“True.”
“That’s right, True. Did she ever file for divorce?”
“No, I did.”
“Gotcha.”
“Never heard from her again, huh?” That came from the younger of the two, Carlson.
Logan didn’t hide his irritation. “No, I did not.”
“I always thought that was strange.”
“What’s that, Detective Carlson?”
“Most folks, when they want to get out of a marriage, try to get everything they can.”
“And?”
“Nothing. It’s odd, that’s all.”
“If you remember, my wife withdrew ten thousand dollars two days before she left.”
“Big money to me, a public servant. But for you … or the woman you marry, not so much.”
“True wasn’t like that.”
“I guess all she wanted was her freedom.”
Bailey’d had enough. “If there’s nothing else, I haven’t quite recovered yet and need to rest.”
“My apologies, Mrs. Abbott. But your husband and I go way back, so we have lots to talk about.”
“You went to school together? Grew up in the same neighborhood?”
“Hardly.” He smiled slightly. “No, I interviewed him when his first wife disappeared.”
“When his first wife disappeared.” She felt the words like a blow to her gut, but wasn’t about to let this stranger see that.
She coolly cocked an eyebrow and waited.
He cleared his throat. “Like I said, call if you need anything. And be careful. I’d hate to see another accident befall you.”
Bailey turned on Logan the moment the detective’s vehicle had cleared the gates.
“Where were you Friday night?”
“You know where I was.”