Finding Abby: A Romantic Suspense set in the Colorado Mountains (Whispering Pines Mysteries) Read online

  Finding Abby

  Finding Abby

  A Romantic Suspense set in the Colorado Mountains

  Rhonda Blackhurst

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are purely fictional.

  Copyright © 2016 by Rhonda Blackhurst

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying form without written permission of the author, Rhonda Blackhurst, or the publisher, Lighthouse Press.

  Books may be purchased in quantity and/or special sales by contacting the author at www.rhondablackhurst.com or [email protected].

  Published by Lighthouse Press, Colorado

  Cover Design by Isabel Robalo

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016917054

  ISBN-13: 9780991353255

  ISBN-10: 0991353250

  First Edition

  Also by Rhonda Blackhurst

  The Inheritance

  The Melanie Hogan Cozy Mystery Series

  Shear Madness

  Shear Deception

  Shear Death (coming in 2017)

  To Clint

  Always my love

  And to Ben and Alex. Being your mother has made my life complete.

  Contents

  Finding Abby Book One A Whispering Pines Mystery

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  A New Beginning

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Finding Abby

  Book One

  A Whispering Pines Mystery

  1

  Abby nearly tumbled out of bed as she bolted upright in a sweat, her limbs tangled in the sheets. She’d been having dreams of every color lately, but this was the darkest, blackest one yet. A cloud of doom engulfed her like a violent sandstorm, obscuring her vision and threatening to suck the very last breath from her lungs.

  She peeled away the sweat-dampened sheet from her legs, stood, and crossed over to the window. Chilled now, she wrapped her arms around herself. She’d left the window ajar when she went to bed a few hours ago, but she wasn’t at all certain that it was the night air that chilled her. The dreams she’d been having of Hunter finding her and Cooper had been getting more vivid over the course of the past two weeks since he’d been released from prison. And she had a gut feeling that the strange phone call she’d received last evening wasn’t a coincidence. The ominous silence on the other end of the line screamed Hunter.

  Abby pushed the window down until she heard it click, then fumbled with the metal locking mechanism until she heard the second click. She stared at the unsettling darkness beyond, then brought her focus back to the droplets of rain making patterns on the glass as they trickled down. A few lingered in place, and she studied them absently. She wiped a few drops of water from the windowsill as she shifted her gaze to the photo of Cooper that sat on the table behind her, reflected in the glass by the night light she could no longer sleep without. Would she ever stop fearing for her son’s safety? Now that Hunter was out of prison, she doubted it. Her heart had nearly stopped when she’d received the call from the Crime Victim Notification line the day of his release. Despite being aware that he was due to be released, she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. It had been so peaceful not having to live in fear. Knowing that he was now free had brought a new level of fear she hadn’t experienced before. She was sure he wasn’t going to go away quietly. She knew Hunter better than that.

  “Mom?”

  Abby jumped and gasped, turning to see Cooper standing in her bedroom. She hadn’t even heard him open the door.

  “Hi, sweetie. What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

  “I heard you yell in your sleep, and it woke me up.”

  She tried to paste on a smile but failed miserably. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “What were you dreaming about? Dad?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Mom,” he said as if she were an idiot.

  “You’re much too smart for a nine-year-old,” she said, reaching out her hand and encouraging him to come to her. She wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders, smoothing his fine blond hair with the hand that just a moment ago she’d held out to him. “Cooper…” she hesitated, wondering how to ask him what she needed to know, whether his father had attempted to contact him.

  “What?” he asked in the middle of a yawn.

  “Nothing.” She hugged him tight, kissed the top of his head, and nudged him toward the door. “Go back to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  She watched as he stumbled through the doorway, certain he wouldn’t remember this interaction come morning. Poor kid looked like he was sleepwalking. She probably wouldn’t bring it up if he didn’t mention it in the morning. The last thing she wanted was to instill fear in him.

  She crawled back into bed and lay staring at the ceiling, listening to the cars zoom by on the other side of the tall concrete barrier that separated their housing development from the interstate. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to get back to sleep tonight, anyway. She had plenty of time to think about how and if she should broach the subject of his father’s release with Cooper.

  Her thoughts traveled to the first time Hunter had unleashed his anger directly against Cooper. At the age of three, Cooper had decided he liked bow ties because he saw Grandpa Jeremiah wear one. The one and only time Jeremiah had worn one, actually. A bittersweet lump formed in her throat. Cooper, even then, didn’t miss a thing. He had such a keen eye for everything around him.

  She remembered it now as if it had just happened last week—Hunter had refused to leave the house until Cooper took the bow tie off. He’d insisted that the child looked ridiculous and he wasn’t going to be seen with him until he took it off. Abby had watched the two of them carefully, holding her breath for a struggle that was inevitable. Her heart ached at the hurtful words spoken by a father to his child. You look like a retard, Coop! Take it off! Until that time, Hunter had only said things to her, never to Cooper. But Cooper was strong willed, and already she was weighing carefully when to challenge his decisions and when to let them go. Sometimes the challenge wasn’t in anyone’s best interest. But Hunter didn’t care, and this time, when Cooper wouldn’t back down, he’d reached over and ripped the tie off, tearing little Cooper’s shirt along with it.

  The look of fear in her little boy’s wide blue eyes had ripped her apart; it was etched in her memory for the rest of her life. Yet, she was terrified to confront Hunter for fear he would hit her again in front of Cooper. And that was when she knew she had to somehow find a way to leave Hunter.
She would never again participate, even as passively as she had, in breaking Cooper’s little heart or seeing that same fear in his eyes. But she knew, if she stayed with Hunter, that’s exactly what she would be—an active participant in damaging her precious boy.

  She kept that little black bow tie tucked away in a dresser drawer as motivation for planning their escape, and after Hunter made the separation happen quicker than she had anticipated, by beating her nearly to the brink of death, the little tie had become a reminder that divorcing Hunter was without a doubt the right thing to do.

  The early morning sky began to turn light, subconscious permission that it was now safe to sleep for an hour. She knew full well that all the same things could happen during the daylight hours as easily as after darkness fell, but daylight seemed a lot less ominous. She rolled onto her side, took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes what felt like a mere moment later, she saw that three hours had passed.

  She jumped out of bed and pulled on her robe. It was disconcerting that she’d fallen asleep so soundly that an earthquake could have demolished the walls around her and she wouldn’t have known. She didn’t have the luxury of sleeping that soundly. Not anymore.

  She followed the sound of the television to the living room and, turning through the arched doorway, saw Cooper with his feet up on the coffee table. A bowl of cereal was perched on his belly as he leaned back against the sofa cushion.

  “Uh-uh, dude.” Abby crossed the room, picked up his feet with her hands, and set them on the floor. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

  Cooper looked up at her, his cheeks flushing, knowing he’d been busted but good. “A whole lot?” He asked quietly around a mouthful of cereal.

  “Yes sir, you’re right. No eating in the living room, especially in front of the TV. And no watching this—”she waved her hand toward the television set, “this stuff.”

  “I would have asked you first, but you were out, snoring, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

  Her heart softened at his kind intent, but an uncomfortable prickle of fear invaded the space, too. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. She needed a diversion…and she knew just how to get one. She let her jaw drop open and her eyes grow wide.

  “I do not snore, buddy.” She removed the bowl of cereal from his belly, placed it on the coffee table, and dropped down beside him, tickling him until he cried uncle.

  By the time she stopped, Cooper was belly laughing in a way she hadn’t heard for far too long. She gave them both a minute to catch their breath, then stood, tightened her robe around herself, and padded barefoot to the living room doorway. She turned back to look at Cooper and was startled to realize how much he was beginning to look like Hunter. When had that happened? She felt like she was looking at her son for the first time after an extended absence.

  “I’d ask if you want pancakes, but it looks like I’m a little late.”

  “I could still eat pancakes,” he said, his mouth full again with the last of his cereal, soggy by now.

  Abby slowly shook her head in disbelief. “Where do you put it all?”

  “I’m a growing boy.” He grinned.

  “Yes, you are.” She chuckled and turned to leave the room. “Pancakes coming right up.”

  “Hey, Mom?”

  “Yeah?” She turned to face him again, one hand on the doorframe.

  “What’d you dream about last night?”

  Abby’s heart skipped a beat. She took a deep breath. He remembered. Again, she felt the need to buy some time. “I dreamed that you beat me in checkers.”

  “Mom!” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “How lame. Stop treating me like a baby. That’s not the truth, and you know it.”

  She smiled softly at her son who seemed to be growing up before her eyes. “Yes, I do know it,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “Let me get the pancakes started, and we’ll talk over breakfast, okay?” She tucked her hair behind her ear and turned to leave the room before he could protest her suggestion.

  Abby was just cracking the second egg into the bowl with oil and milk when the phone rang. She wiped her hands on the dishtowel that lay beside the mixing bowl and picked up the phone. She smiled as she recognized the number in the Caller ID.

  “Hi, Henry. Wanna come over and eat pancakes with Coop? You guys can have a contest. I guarantee he’ll eat you right under the table with his voracious appetite.”

  There was silence, then an unfamiliar voice came across the line.

  “This isn’t Henry, Ms. Sinclair. It’s Mona. I’m a nurse at Highland Hospital.” Abby’s breath caught in her throat as she clutched the phone tighter. “In Oakland,” Mona added.

  “I’m aware of where Highland Hospital is. I’ve lived here most of my adult life. Is Henry okay?”

  “He asked me to call you if—” Silence filled the line for a moment.

  “If what?”

  “If he didn’t make it.” The woman’s voice quivered.

  The room started spinning. Abby’s legs felt rubbery and threatened to give out. She walked to a kitchen chair and sat down slowly. In fact, it was as if everything was moving in slow motion. In her mind’s eye, she could see Henry laughing with Cooper, his eyes sparkling with delight in his child friend who’d become the grandson to him that he’d never had.

  “What do you mean, ‘if he didn’t make it?’” Abby whispered.

  “Ms. Sinclair, Henry died early this morning.”

  She heard Mona sniffle. Tears stung Abby’s eyes, and pain sliced through her as the memory of her mother’s death five years ago rushed through her. The last assault she’d endured at the hands of her ex-husband hadn’t even hurt like this. The assault that Henry had saved her from, literally saving her life. A sob caught in her throat.

  “How?” Her voice cracked.

  “Something terrible—unspeakable—”

  “Spit it out.” She was startled at the sound of her voice, impatient and hostile. She tried to breathe, but it wasn’t happening. “Mona, what happened?” Tears ran unchecked down Abby’s cheeks. She didn’t bother to brush them away until she heard Cooper’s voice call out.

  “Mom! How much longer until the pancakes are ready?”

  Abby covered the phone mouthpiece. “Just a minute, Coop. I’m on the phone.”

  “Who is it?” His voice called back.

  She covered the mouthpiece again. “Cooper, I said just a minute!” She was startled again at the sharpness in her voice and knew he would be appearing in the kitchen within seconds to check on her.

  Abby turned her attention back to the woman who’d just splintered her heart over the phone. “Mona?” Abby wanted so badly for this to be another one of her unsettling dreams.

  “Someone broke into his house and—well, Henry must have surprised whoever it was.”

  “Has anyone contacted his son?” Abby’s stomach twisted; her heart was heavy with grief and disbelief.

  “His son was the one who found him.”

  “He did?” Abby sniffed, her nose stuffed from crying. “But how—when—” She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to blot out the ugliness that robbed her of someone so dear.

  “The assault happened evening ’fore last. It was too much for him and he had a heart attack. Had another next morning that caused his passing.”

  “Yesterday morning then?” She could hardly hear her own thready voice.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know Henry?” As if it mattered.

  “We were friends.”

  “Friends. Of course,” she whispered. The fact she was surprised was a surprise in and of itself. It was pure lunacy to think she and Cooper were the only friends Henry had. She ran the palm of her hand over one cheek, then the other. “Where is he now?”

  “Henry’s son? I wouldn’t have any idea.”

  “No, Henry. Where is he?”

  “His son has made arrangements for—well, to have things taken care of the way Henry wanted them taken care of.”


  Time seemed to skid to a stop. “What are you saying, Mona?”

  “Henry wanted to be cremated.”

  “That’s crazy. Who said that?” Abby’s voice was eerily calm, betraying the confusion that was bubbling beneath the surface.

  “His son. Guess he left some sort of note in his dresser drawer.”

  “That can’t be right,” Abby whispered more to herself than to the woman on the other end of the line.

  “Abby?” Mona’s voice was thick with concern.

  “That has to be a mistake, Mona. Henry and I have talked about this. He didn’t believe in cremation.”

  “Well, I didn’t think so either, but his son said otherwise. Far be it from me to presume I know Henry better than his own son.”

  Thoughts tumbled around in Abby’s head like stones in a polisher. Something felt terribly wrong.

  “A mere note wouldn’t supersede a will,” Abby mumbled to herself as she tried to process what was happening. “Mona, did you see the will?”

  “No. I’m afraid I’m not privy to it.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Whether I believe it or not doesn’t matter much now, does it, child? His son is family. I’m not.”

  Pressing further with her skepticism didn’t seem the thing to do. Not now and not with Mona. She could take a hint, especially when it slapped her in the face.

  “You’re right. Thank you,” she said, her mind already miles away.

  After she hung up the phone, she ran her hands across her wet cheeks and sniffed. If she’d stayed in the house next door to Henry instead of downsizing once Hunter was gone, she probably would have been able to save him like he had saved her. Guilt over letting him down nearly suffocated her.

  She rested her forehead in her hands, her elbows on the table, but inside she was beating herself up. As if Hunter hadn’t done a good enough job of beating her up already.

  “Mom?” She felt Cooper’s warm touch on her shoulder. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  2

  Abby wiped her cheeks again with her still wet hands; the tears refused to cease. Pull it together, Abby! She wrapped an arm around Cooper, pulling him close.