Part 14 (2/2)
”Yes, and I'll go downtown with you.”
”No, thanks, I can go alone.”
”I wish you wouldn't.” Sam's expression darkened. ”I slept on it, and though I don't think your ex was murdered, I'm worried about this SUV.”
”I'll keep an eye out for it. On a Sunday morning, I'd spot it a mile away, there's no traffic. Besides, Megan needs her swim bag, and if I run late, I can't get it to her.”
”We can drop it off on our way out.”
”And wake up Courtney's family? Their dogs bark like crazy.”
”Then we can leave it at school.”
”The meet's at the high school. It won't be open, and where would we leave it? They don't know her there.” Jill gave his arm a squeeze. ”Thanks, but it's best if you stay. If there are any problems, I'll call the police.”
Sam pursed his lips ”You're supposed to be calling the police today anyway, correct?”
”Yes, I will, after I check on Abby.” Jill gave him a final hug and patted Beef good-bye. ”I'll pack Megan's bag before I go.”
”I can do it. But be careful in Philly, will you? Any sign of that SUV, call 911, then call me. Text me when you get there.”
”Will do.”
”Wait. What are you going to do if Abby doesn't answer the door?”
”I'll knock until she does, or I can see if her car is there, so I'll know she's home.”
”You don't have a key to the house, do you?”
”No, but I hope a neighbor does. We always used to do that, just in case.”
”By 'we,' do you mean you and William?” Sam lifted an eyebrow, but he smiled.
”Yes. Sorry.”
”We're going to stop talking about him by our wedding, no?”
”Promise,” Jill answered, and took off.
Chapter Twenty.
Jill zoomed into town and didn't see any black SUVs as she hit the on-ramp toward Society Hill. She made it in no time and found a parking s.p.a.ce on Acorn Street, cut the ignition, texted Sam that she was fine, and got out of the car. The sun slashed through the trees along the street, and a breeze disturbed the leaves of the trees, but it was too early on a Sunday morning for anyone to be out, even tourists.
Jill made a beeline for William's house, hustled up the steps, and rang the bell. She rang it again, then again, but no answer. She knocked on the door, rapping hard with her knuckles. ”Abby?” she called out, loud enough to be heard without waking the entire block. ”It's me, Jill! Open up!” She waited, then called out again, knocking, but there was no reply.
She peeked in the front window, edging over on the stoop, but she couldn't see anything. The window was too high in the wall, and a ma.s.sive shade covered the bottom. There were no lights on inside the house, and she didn't know if Abby was home, but she knew a way to find out. She climbed down the front steps and continued down the street until she came to the break in the rowhouses. She'd lived in the city during her residency and she knew that alleys usually ran behind the rowhouses.
She took a right and hurried down the alley, which changed to a stone walkway that led to a pocket parking lot. Each house had two parking s.p.a.ces, and the lot was full. There was a cheap orange Datsun parked right behind a black Mercedes sedan, and they had to be Abby's and William's cars. Jill worried anew. So Abby was home, but she wasn't answering the door? Was she hurt inside the house? Or had she gone somewhere, with someone who had driven her? Jill went over to Abby's car and peered inside. Balled-up Trident wrappers dotted the pa.s.senger's seat, next to an empty water bottle and a hairbrush. On impulse, she went over and looked inside William's car, and it was predictably immaculate.
She straightened up, then noticed something. The house had a back door, painted dark blue. She walked around the cars and down another stone walkway that ran along the back of the houses, stopping at the door with house number 363. A recycling container sat outside it, next to a galvanized trash can. She banged on the door, and called, ”Abby, Abby!”
”Hey! What are you doing?” said a stern voice behind her, and Jill turned around to see an older man in a green track suit, with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He was standing in the lot, his lined brow furrowed and his hooded eyes glowering behind bifocals.
”h.e.l.lo, I'm Jill Farrow, Abby's stepmother, and I'm looking for her. Are you a neighbor?”
”It depends.” The man frowned, but his tone softened. ”Abby's the girl who lives here?”
”Yes, that's her car.” Jill gestured at the Datsun. ”She's home but she doesn't answer the door. Her father, who lived here, died last Tuesday, and I'm worried about her.”
”Oh, I didn't know that.” The man's forehead relaxed. ”My condolences. Name's Ernie Berg.”
”Hi, Ernie.” Jill walked over and shook his hand. ”Where do you live?”
”Two doors down, on Acorn.” Ernie pointed at a black Lincoln. ”That's my car.”
”Have you seen Abby recently?”
”No, not recently. Pretty girl, and she always waves. I'm retired, so I'm home, and I see most things on the street. I'm on the Town Watch, too.”
Jill knew it was a lucky break. ”How about William, then? Her father? Do you see him much? The Mercedes is his.”
”I know who you mean, but he's not around that much. That night, guess it was a few days ago, the street was full of police, even the medical examiner. Quite a to-do.” Ernie shook his head. ”He was too young, wasn't he? What did he die of?”
”A reaction to a prescription drug.”
”That's too bad. I didn't know him, but a man that young, that's too bad. I asked him to be on the Town Watch, but he said no. Said he was traveling all the time.”
Jill made a mental note. ”Do you know the neighbors on either side? I'm wondering if they've seen her or if they have a key to the house.”
”You can forget about that. The Wilsons and the Eraskos. The Wilsons are skiing, and the Eraskos are on some college tour, with the son. He plays basketball. Heavily recruited.”
Jill felt defeated, momentarily. ”I'm worried that Abby's in the house and fell or something. She lives alone now that her father died.”
”I'd worry, too.” Ernie buckled his lower lip. ”Most fatal accidents occur in the home. Might be time to go to the police. We discourage the use of 911, when it's not an emergency, and our precinct house is just a few blocks away. We're in the Sixth District.”
”You think I should go?”
Ernie shrugged. ”How many daughters you got?”
Jill was about to answer ”three” when she realized it was rhetorical.
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