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Chapter 11

Laurel finished a very late and uninspiring lunch of a Cobb salad from the deli down the street as she sat in her office and thought through the two deaths. Sheriff York had delivered a preliminary notification to Teri Bearing's family since he had a relationship with them. The mayor had provided a positive identification from a picture. Even so, due to the victim's facial trauma, they awaited final confirmation from the coroner, and they'd all agreed to refrain from making public announcements until then.

Laurel had called to set up a time to interview the Bearings, reaching a voice mail. Saul and his two sons had disappeared, saying they needed time to grieve—and the damn sheriff had let them go.

That didn't work since Laurel needed to interview them, so Huck had issued a BOLO for them to no avail as of yet.

Also, so far, nobody had found Pastor John Govern, so she issued a BOLO for him as well. These witnesses needed to be tracked down. Now. Her desk phone rang. "Hey, Kate."

"Hi. Dr. Caine is here to see you," Kate said, her voice almost robotic.

"Thank you. You can send her back." Laurel preferred to deal with Abigail with a desk between them, instead of in the conference room. She angled her head but couldn't see down the hallway.

"Hello, dear sister." Abigail strode inside. She had grown her auburn hair out to her shoulders, and today had the thick strands flipped back in a sassy style. Her heterochromatic eyes sparkled. "How kind of you to invite me to an early supper."

"We're not going to supper. Please take a seat." Laurel gestured to one of the two leather guest chairs.

"You are so boring," Abigail muttered, shutting the door and then sitting. She wore a black, high-end-looking pantsuit with a white silk shirt beneath the jacket. The accompanying emerald necklace and earring set appeared genuine. "I already heard that Jason Abbott has once again eluded the police, and I am taking precautions to keep myself safe. No, I still do not know where he is. Are we done?"

"No, we are not finished with this interview. I watched the video of your visit with Jason last week."

Abigail's eyes crinkled. "Did you, now? I bet I appeared delightful on the big screen." She looked around. "Shall we watch it together?"

"I've seen enough," Laurel said. "Why in the world would you want Jason Abbott out on the street?"

Abigail's eyes widened, so very much like Laurel's that her stomach dropped. "Out on the street? I do not want that maniac free. He wants to kill you or me. Most likely me, and that won't do."

Laurel tried to study Abigail's facial expressions for hints of falsehood but couldn't determine any telltale signs. "Could you stop playing games for one minute? I watched the video of the last time you visited him in jail. I know you gave him the idea to escape. Yet your motivation for such a puerile act escapes me."

Abigail's chin slightly lowered and her lips lifted in an almost flirty smile, or at least what Laurel would consider flirty. "It really galls you when you fail to understand something, doesn't it?"

That statement held truth. "Are you planning to kill Jason Abbott?"

Abigail tapped her fingers on the desk. "I cannot believe you're still using this old door as a desktop. Do I have to go ahead and just buy you a desk myself?" Her smile widened. "I do have plenty of funds, as you know." She owned a marijuana farm outside of town, and apparently the business remained lucrative.

"What is your plan, Abigail? I think you're underestimating Abbott," Laurel said.

"Nonsense. It would be impossible to underestimate that dullard," Abigail said. "I wish you wouldn't worry so much." She held out her hand as if admiring her blood-red nails. "Although, I do like your showing how much you care about me."

"I'm concerned because he will kill innocent women, unlike you. Women who did not disturb his brain patterns until he felt free to act on his killing urges," Laurel said evenly.

Abigail straightened on the chair. "I'm bored with this discussion. Let's dish. How's the baby, anyway? You don't look any different. I expected you to be all glowy."

How annoying that Abigail had somehow guessed about Laurel's pregnancy before Laurel herself even had. Laurel wished she could've lied better when Abigail had dropped the bombshell. "Dr. Caine, we are here to discuss Jason Abbott."

Abigail threw back her head and laughed, the sound so much like Laurel's natural laugh that nausea rolled through Laurel's belly.

"You just called me Dr. Caine. I think we're way past that, don't you?" Abigail's dual-colored eyes sparkled. "Speaking of the Caine name, have you talked to dear old Dad?"

"Only as he relates to my current case," Laurel said. "I'm dealing with one sociopath at a time."

Abigail's heterochromatic eyes glowed in the office lights. "Sociopath, is it? I thought you diagnosed me as a malignant narcissist."

"I haven't diagnosed you with any certainty. You could be a psychopath for all I know, or care," Laurel said. "Have you spoken to Zeke Caine?"

"No," Abigail said. "I'm keeping my distance. You have to know he won't keep his distance from either you or me."

"I'm hoping he'll be too busy with the church to bother me," Laurel said. "So you haven't spoken to him, and you remain unaware of his movements during the last five years?" It was too late to arrest and charge him with the attack on her mother, but experience told her that he'd have additional victims out there.

"I neither know nor care where dear old Dad has been, and neither should you," Abigail said, her jaw firming. "He's not going to leave us alone. At some point, you and I are going to have to combine forces to handle him."

Laurel swallowed. "Handle him? Would you like to elaborate?"

"I truly would not." Abigail met her stare evenly.

During Laurel's last case, in which prominent men had been murdered by stabbing, Zeke Caine had been a possible victim. There wasn't a doubt in Laurel's mind that Abigail had tried to kill him by copying the murderer's modus operandi. "Someday he will identify you as the person who stabbed him that night in March."

Abigail crossed her legs. "Do you think so? Then why hasn't he?"

"I don't know." There was the disastrous possibility that Zeke Caine liked to play deadly games as much as Abigail did. "Do you?"

Abigail chuckled softly. "All you had to do was let him bleed out that night. Why didn't you?"

Laurel had come upon their father and saved his life. "I want him behind bars paying for his crimes. Not dead. Are you admitting you stabbed him?"

"Of course not." Abigail winked as if truly enjoying the interview. "We both know that if I committed a crime, which I have not done, you'd never be able to prove it. Isn't it time you stopped pursuing me and became my sister?"

Laurel studied Abigail, wanting more than ever to get into her head. "Why did you stab him?"

"I didn't. Stop asking me about Zeke Caine, Laurel."

At the moment, Laurel required Abigail's assistance, so she chose to abandon that line of questioning. "Tell me where you think Jason Abbott would go."

Abigail tugged on one sparkling earring. "Who knows. By the way, speaking of Abbott, I saw the interview that our good old Captain Rivers gave to Rachel Raprenzi. She still has the hots for him, you know?"

"I care little what she feels," Laurel said. "The purpose of the interview was to notify the public about Jason Abbott's escape. You knew him better than anybody. If you're not involved with his escape, then help me. Where would he go?"

Abigail tapped one red fingernail on her chin. "You know, as your big sister, I could take care of that reporter for you."

Laurel believed the woman would do just that if asked. "Again, I wish for her to be left alone by you. If anything happens to Rachel, I will arrest you immediately." The gun at the back of her waist provided necessary reassurance right now. "We both know you threatened her before, and I have no doubt she'd be happy to testify against you."

"If you had any proof whatsoever that I threatened that perceptually challenged twat, I'd already be booked."

An unfortunately true statement. "Let's return to the subject of your jail visit with Jason Abbott. Where is he right now?"

Abigail flicked an invisible piece of lint off her shoulder. "This is so tedious. I couldn't care less where he is. Let's talk about us. Let's talk about the baby inside you. The one who will probably be a genius. What are we going to do with her?"

Laurel would keep Abigail far away from this baby. "You and I do not have a relationship."

"Of course we do. We're sisters," Abigail returned. "This baby is going to need both of us. Do you think she'll have our eyes?"

Laurel had never met anybody more able to talk in circles than Abigail. The talent would be impressive if it wasn't so irritating. "Where would Jason go?"

Abigail tossed a hand through the air. "Would you give it up? I have no idea. Did you check with that insipid fiancée of his? Haylee, whatever it was?"

Abigail knew Haylee's name as well as Laurel did. She had an eidetic memory and didn't forget anything. "You know her last name."

"I choose not to spend any time on that twit. If anybody helped him escape, it would be her."

Laurel failed to discern an underlying tone in Abigail's voice. It was too bad Huck wasn't available right now, but then again, perhaps Abigail wouldn't speak so freely around him. "How would Haylee have assisted Jason Abbott?"

"Who cares?" Abigail murmured. "At least things are about to get interesting around here again."

Abigail's lack of emotion should not surprise Laurel, yet it did. "Just tell me why you'd want him out of jail if you have no plans to end his life."

"I have no wish to harm Abbott," Abigail said briskly. "If I'd wanted him dead, he'd be dead. I didn't need him to escape to take care of him. Surely you understand that much about me."

As a point, it was a good one. Abigail could probably engineer any situation that she wanted. "So, why do you want him free?" It just didn't make any sense.

"Again, I couldn't care less. As of now, I'm bored with this discussion." Abigail dug into her overlarge purse and brought out a notebook. "I'm writing you a song."

Laurel blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Since you're knocked up, I'm sure the good captain will propose soon."

"We have no plans for marriage."

Abigail continued as if Laurel hadn't spoken. "As your maid of honor, I'll need to give a speech, and I saw one online where the maid of honor sang a song that she'd written. I enjoyed it. A lot of interesting words rhyme with Huck."

Laurel shook her head. "You and I do not have a personal relationship."

"Of course we do. I very strongly advise that you stop saying that." Abigail lost all semblance of a smile. "You really don't want to be my enemy, especially since we share a common one."

"Zeke Caine?" Laurel recognized the truth in her statement. "I don't need your assistance ensuring Zeke sees justice. You and I don't have a scintilla of feeling in common."

Abigail stood. "That's where you're wrong, dear sister. You'll need me more than you realize. Soon."

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