InSight

retold the story of Stewart’s day-by-day slide into hell. “Lucy lived in Texas at the time with one of her beaus—some fake oilman with a competitive drinking problem. No help there.”
    Luke gathered the dishes and put them in the sink. “What did you do?”
    “Tried to be supportive.” Abby pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay?”
    “What did you say? I didn’t see.”
    She faced him. “No more.”
    “Just one more question, then I’m finished.”
    “One more.”
    “Do you think the man in your yard was Stewart?”
    She knew the answer before Luke asked. “The man in the yard was tall with big hands, and when he pressed his body against mine, there was mass. He was big. Stewart’s fingers are long and tapered. He’s tall but slight, probably more so now than he was eight years ago. And the man in the yard chewed cloves. During the time I spent with Stewart, I never once smelled cloves. So the answer is no, the man in the yard wasn’t Stewart.”
    “That’s what I thought. I want to check my email.
    Abby put the dishes in the dishwasher.
    Luke returned to the kitchen. “Guess what? Stewart’s private hospital? Carlotta Gentry is chairman of the board.”
    “Doesn’t prove a thing. A mother in control of her son’s illness. Who wouldn’t do that for her child? I would, if I had the means. Besides, because of their foundation, she and Mr. Gentry were involved in the medical community, especially concerning mental illness. I believe it was in Mr. Gentry’s family. Ironic, isn’t it?”
    “There’s something that doesn’t add up. I’m not sure what it is, but I think we need to find Stewart for his own protection—as well as yours.”
    “Why?”
    “Gut instinct.”
    “Didn’t you say he took a few months’ supply of medication when he left?”
    “Yes, but…I need Matt to do a little sleuthing.”
    “About what?”
    “I’d rather not say until I hear back from him. I’m going online.”
    “I’ll shower.” When she finished, Luke was still on the computer.
    “Pete contacted the owner of the cabin,” Luke said. “Stewart prepaid three months ’ rent in cash.”
    “I wonder how long he planned to hold me there.”
    “No telling.”
    “If Stewart needs the pills, why leave them? I’ll tell you why. He doesn’t care anymore. Kidnapping me was his last act. His last attempt at a normal life. When he found I’d escaped, nothing mattered. Stewart wants to die.”
    “You don’t know that.”
    “I know Stewart. I’m everything he’s about, even now.”
    “Then we definitely have to find him.”
    Abby wondered what was going through Luke’s mind. What made him think Stewart was in trouble? He clearly didn’t want to tell her. Maybe ignorance is the better road. She’d remember to tell Lucy that to justify her eight-year deception.
    Abby had avoided her mother the last two days. Though she knew Lucy had protected her, she felt betrayed. Analyzing the situation, she alternated between understanding and condemning. Lucy had relieved the pain and anxiety of knowing Stewart still breathed the air he’d denied his daughter, but it hurt that she assumed Abby lacked the courage to face the hand she was dealt. Maybe Lucy was right on both counts. Abby needed to speak with her.
    She got Luke’s attention. “I need to see Lucy, Luke. I need to clear the air.”
    “I’ve been waiting for that,” Luke said. He signed off and they drove to Lucy’s without calling. Her car sat in the driveway, but she didn’t answer the door. Abby recalled that Meyer lunched with his daughter on Sundays, and Lucy used the time for household chores. She rarely napped, and unless she didn’t want to face her daughter, she never skulked behind closed doors.
    “I have a key. Remember, I used to live here.” She fished in her purse and handed Luke the keys. “Number three on the ring,” she said. He opened the door as far as the security chain allowed. “Lucy, are you in there?” Abby called through the crack.
    When she didn’t respond, Luke asked, “Is there another door?”
    “A sliding glass door leads to the deck, but it’s usually locked.”
    “Wait here.”
    Luke ran around the side of the house. Abby’s heart pumped in her throat. When Luke returned, he said, “She’s sitting on the sofa. I’m going to break the chain, okay?”
    “Is she moving?”
    “No, but she’s not dead. She’s sitting with a bottle of scotch in front