Dead Ringer. B.J. Daniels
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would be good between them for a while.
At least, that was the way it used to be. Lately, it took nothing to set Wade off. And there was no pleading for forgiveness or any making up afterward.
“It isn’t like anyone else wanted to marry you,” her mother told her when she’d seen Abby wince from one of Wade’s beatings. Her mother loved to rub salt in the wounds. “It’s plain to see that you aren’t making him happy. You’d better do whatever it takes or he’s going to dump you for a woman who will. Then where are you going to be? Divorced. Left like a bus at the Greyhound bus station. No man will want you then.”
Abby had bit her lip and said nothing. She’d made her bed and now she had to lie in it. That was her mother’s mantra.
“And stay clear of that McGraw,” her mother had warned. “Men always want you when you’re with someone else. But the minute they get you, they lose interest. So don’t be thinkin’ the grass is greener with him. You already know you can’t trust him. Look how he broke your heart. Just be glad Wade was willing to marry you since you weren’t exactly white-wedding-dress material, now, were you?”
Now she stared at the back of her husband’s head for a moment, then padded barefoot back to bed. If only she could remember how she’d gotten hurt. She had a feeling that would have answered all of her questions about what was happening with her husband.
* * *
“ABBY’S STARTING TO REMEMBER,” Wade told his father the next day. He’d been relieved that he had to work. The last thing he wanted to do was sit around with her. He felt as if he was going to come unraveled at the seams as it was. She knew she hadn’t fallen off a ladder. He saw it in her eyes and said as much to Huck.
“So what? It isn’t like she’s going to tell anyone,” his father said. “If she was going to do that, she would have done it a long time ago.”
“She’s going to leave me.”
Huck swore. “She would have done that a long time ago, too. She’s fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Everyone knows.” As he’d wheeled Abby out to his patrol car parked at the emergency entrance, he’d seen the way the nurses were looking at him. Everyone knew now that he was his father’s son—a bastard who mistreated his wife. He was thankful he and Abby hadn’t had a kid. What if he took his anger inside him out on his own son?
“Snap out of it!” his father barked as they stood talking by their patrol cars. “You’re in the clear.”
Wade shook his head. “I’m afraid she’s going to remember why we fought. If she remembers what she overheard you and me talking about...”
“I thought you said she didn’t remember anything?”
He shrugged. “She says she doesn’t, but the way she looks at me... She’s going to start putting it together. I can see it in her eyes.”
“Bull. If she remembered, she’d either go to the sheriff or she’d be in your face. What she needs to do is get back to work, keep her mind off...everything. In the meantime, you need to stay calm. You can’t mess up again.”
“I’ll treat her real good,” he said more to himself than his father. “I’ll make up for everything.”
“That alone will make her suspicious. Do what you normally do.”
“Get drunk and stay out half the night?” Wade asked his father in disbelief. “And you think that will help how?”
“It won’t make you seem so desperate. Stop saying you’re sorry. It was her damned fool self who climbed up that ladder to get those canning jars.”
Wade stared at him. He’d always known that his father bought into his own lies, but this was over the top. “She’s not stupid. She knows damned well she didn’t fall from a ladder.” He felt a sob deep in his chest begging to get out. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it together. “You don’t live with her. You have no idea what it’s like. She knows she can do better than me. She’s always known. If she ever finds out that we lied to her about Ledger McGraw and that girl at college—”
Huck swore a blue streak. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you miserable little miscreant. It’s our word against McGraw’s. He swore nothing was going on, but if she didn’t believe him then, she sure isn’t going to now. She isn’t going to find out unless you confess everything. She married you. Don’t blow this. If she remembers what we were talking about when she overheard, then we’ll deal with it. In the meantime, go get drunk, get laid, stop worrying.”
* * *
ABBY COULDN’T SIT STILL. The doctor had told her to rest, but she felt too antsy. Not being able to remember nagged at her. She got up and turned on the television.
Standing, she flipped through the channels, but found nothing of interest and turned it off.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a book lying open on the floor next to her chair. As she bent to pick it up, she winced at the pain in her ribs. Dizzy, she had to grab hold of the chair arm for a moment.
She stared at the book, trying to remember. Had she been reading? It bugged Wade when she read instead of watched television with him. He took offense as if her reading made him feel dumb. It made no sense. No more sense than what had happened to her. Why would she have been reading if she was going to get canning jars down to make peach jam?
Marking her place, she put the book down and walked into the kitchen to open the refrigerator. Of course there were no peaches in there. Had she really thought there would be this time of year? Her ribs hurt worse as she breathed hard to fight back the nausea. She hadn’t fallen off a ladder. Why did she keep trying to make Wade’s story plausible?
She turned to look at her house, seeing her life in the worn furniture, in the sad-looking cheap artwork on the walls, in the creak of the old floorboards under her feet.
Her gaze went to the floor as she caught a whiff of pine. Someone had cleaned the kitchen floor—but not with the cleaner she always used. Wade? Why would he clean unless...
Heart beating hard, she noticed that he’d missed a spot. She didn’t need to lean any closer to know what it was. Dried blood. Her blood.
* * *
ABBY REALIZED SHE had nowhere to go. But she desperately needed to talk to someone. Even her mother.
She knew she shouldn’t be driving, but her house wasn’t that far from her mother’s. Once behind the wheel she felt more in control. Seeing the blood, she’d quit lying to herself. She hadn’t fallen off a ladder. Wade had hurt her. Again. Bad enough for her to end up in the hospital.
Only she had no idea why, which terrified her.
Too upset to just sit around waiting for Wade to get off his night shift, she’d finally decided she had to do something. If only she could remember what they’d fought about. A vague memory teased at her, just enough to make her even more anxious. It hadn’t been one of their usual disagreements. It hadn’t even been Wade drunk and belligerent. No, this time it had been serious.
As she turned down the road, she saw the beam of a flashlight moving from behind her mother’s house toward the old root cellar. Abby frowned as her mother and the light disappeared from view.
Why would her mother be going down there this time of the night? She pulled up in front of the house and got out. As she neared the back of the house, she saw that her mother had strung an extension cord so she would have light down in the root cellar. It would be just like her mother to get it into her head to clean it out now, of all crazy possible times.
Abby had spent years trying to please her mother, but she felt she’d always fallen short. She almost changed her mind about trying to talk to her tonight. Her mother would be furious with her for not believing her husband—even though it was clear he was lying. Nan Lawrence was a hard woman to get close to. The closest