InSight
setting wouldn’t distract her.
“Abigael, we meet again. What a pleasant surprise.”
The voice from the past with its phony patrician accent took Abby back to an undesirable place. A place where she’d always been an outsider wondering how she fit in while trying to convince herself she didn’t care. Stewart never strayed far from her, sensing her discomfort, always making her feel part of him. She loved him for that. But this was another day, another time, and Stewart wasn’t near to protect her.
Was it the cooler temperature or the memory of being an unwelcome guest in her ex-mother-in-law’s home once more that sent a chill down her spine?
“It has been awhile, hasn’t it?”
“You’re looking well, my dear. You always were a pretty girl. In your fashion. Come sit down.”
Her compliments had always managed a knife-in-the-back twist. Later, Abby would have one of those I should have said epiphanies, but at the moment she had no retort. She came with one purpose. To rescue Luke. If he was still alive.
* * * * *
C arlotta Gentry appraised her ex-daughter-in-law. She had matured. Not as gawky as she used to be. In fact, if it weren’t for the lifeless eyes, Abigael could almost be attractive. She even dressed well and wore makeup. Humph, wonder how she does that. Astonishing what blind people can do. And she arrived with another attractive man too. All those good-looking men and Abigael couldn’t even appreciate them. Of course, this one wasn’t interested in getting into any woman’s pants. More’s the pity .
“And you are?” she said to Jeff in what she hoped was her haughtiest tone. That always seemed to put people in their place from the outset. Didn’t seem to phase this man one bit.
“Jeff Conti, ma’am,” he said as he moved two chairs against the wall of the house and positioned Abby in one of them.
The defensive placement wasn’t lost on Carlotta. Ha. No one’s going to sneak up behind these two. But then they would have to think me an idiot to pull that again. “I’d offer you a seat, but I see you’ve already made yourself at home.” She did her eyebrow arch, which Abby missed and Conti ignored. “Now, for what reason do I have the pleasure of this visit, Abigael?”
“Luke McCallister,” Abby answered.
Abigael’s boldness surprised her. She spoke right out, unlike the timid girl of years past.
“As I told the detective when he called, Mr. McCallister came, we chatted, and he left. My chauffeur delivered him where he wanted to go, and that was the end of it.”
“I’ll get right to the point, Mrs. Gentry.” Abby took the recorder from her pocket and turned it on. Stewart’s voice mingled with the outdoor noises but came across as if it were in surround sound.
“They killed him, you know.”
“What? Who?”
“My mother and that Collyer guy who worked for my grandfather. They killed my father.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard them. I told you, Abby. Don’t you remember? Before I got sick. I thought I did. Maybe I forgot.”
“You never told me that, Stewart. I don’t remember.”
“Yes. We were going to tell the police. Did we ever do that?”
“No, we never did. Why did they kill him?”
“I don’t remember. Everything’s behind a closed door. Sometimes, in my dreams, I keep pulling on it, but I can’t make it open.”
“I’ll be back, Stewart. Okay?”
“Okay, Abby. I’ll be here, won’t I?”
“Yes, you’ll be here.”
“Why, Mrs. Gentry, you’re as pale as the sails on that boat,” Jeff said. “Are you okay?”
Bastard. He’s filling Abigael in on what she can’t see. I hate that. Damn queer pervert. Doesn’t he know his place? She forced herself calm.
“I love my son, Abigael,” Mrs. Gentry said, “but he’s mentally ill. You of all people should know that. Do you honestly think anyone will believe his accusations? The poor man escaped from a mental hospital, for God’s sake. I don’t think even you believe what he said. You admit you don’t remember anything he claims.”
“Thanks to Dr. Scanlon. Did he work his evil magic on me too, Mrs. Gentry?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Dr. Scanlon is a respected psychiatrist and neurosurgeon, known all over the country for his exceptional work.”
“I wonder how he would like his exceptional work scrutinized. I’m sure the authorities would be interested in his patients. You know the ones I mean. Those receiving experimental
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