Waiting For You (28 page)

“Stop!” she screamed, but by the time she reached the opened door and looked out, nobody was there.

“Abigail? What’s wrong?” Lily asked, bustling out of the kitchen.

Abigail turned toward her maid. “I don’t know. Someone was in my room, but they ran out. I—I couldn’t catch them. I—I don’t know who it was.”

Lily gave her a pitiful frown and stroked her cheek.
“Now, now, my dear.
I think your mind is playing tricks on you again.”

Anger coursed through Abigail and she pushed her maid’s hand away. “Stop it! Stop treating me like I’m an imbecile. I’m not! I know my mind, and I am in complete control. There was someone in my room, just like I know someone keeps taking my personal items and hiding them.”

Lily’s eyes widened.
“Oh, my dear.
You are out of sorts. Perhaps you should retire to you room. I’ll bring up some warm milk and—”

“Did you not hear a word I said?” Abigail pushed past her, heading outside toward the car. Hudson was ready for her and opened the door.

“Take me back to the office,” she ordered as she climbed in.

“Are you certain, miss? You don’t look—”

“Hudson, please don’t argue with me! I know my mind, and my mind is telling me to go back to the office.”

By the time he let her out in front of the building, Abigail’s jaw hurt from clenching it for so long, and her palms held imprints of the fingernails she’d dug into them. She marched inside and headed for her office. When she passed Harry’s right-hand man, Todd, she glared at him. “I’m going in my office, and I do not want to be disturbed. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss Abigail.”

She slammed the door so hard it rattled the window. Then she sat behind the desk and threaded her fingers through her hair. When she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, the locket on her neck clanked on the edge of the desk. She removed the necklace and stared at the locket. Her grandmother had told her this would bring her heart’s deepest desire, but Abigail didn’t believe it anymore.

She opened the heart-shaped necklace and looked at the photographs of her parents. Why did her mother have to die so young and leave this man to raise their only daughter? He had never thought of anybody but himself, and he definitely
hadn’t deserved her mother. Abigail carefully removed her mother’s picture and enfolded it in her wrist purse.

Abigail wanted to forget everything so she wouldn’t have to feel this agony. She didn’t want to care that her father had lied to her all of her life. And, since she suspected Nick was lying to her, too, she didn’t want to care about that, either. Although, how could she stop from hurting?

Chapter 26

Nick drove around town looking for Anthony and Cassandra. The two teenagers had disappeared, and it worried him. He’d located Alexander about an hour before with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, mumbling something about celebrating. Apparently, Abby had already talked him into coming back to the newspaper. All Nick knew was that the man was too drunk to walk a straight line, which meant he’d probably curl up somewhere and sleep it off.

Although Nick had two more days before Abigail would be murdered, he didn’t want to wait that long to stop the crime. The murderer must be caught now.

What if Nick didn’t save her? No, he couldn’t think that. He couldn’t live without Abby. He prayed he’d already altered history, and he wished for some kind of sign to let him know. Then again, his being in 1912 had already altered history, since there were things he knew that these people had no idea about. Could he stop the stock-market crash of 1929? Probably not, but if he stayed here, he could prepare for it, and perhaps help others to do the same.

He pulled the car to the side of the road near a busy street corner, glancing around the shops in hopes of seeing Anthony and Cassandra. If he could catch them doing anything illegal, he’d have them arrested immediately, and they wouldn’t be able to harm Abby.

A familiar figure walked out of the barbershop. Harry. He glanced Nick’s way and waved. Nick groaned, hoping the man wouldn’t ask why he wasn’t at work.

“Mr. Marshal. What a surprise seeing you this far from work.”

Nick climbed out of the car and met Harry on the sidewalk. “I usually don’t venture out this far, but once I started driving around, I couldn’t stop. I love leisurely drives.”

“As do I.”
Harry nodded. “I see Abigail is letting your borrow Edward’s favorite car.”

“This was Edward’s favorite? I didn’t know that.”

“Yes. He loved that car even if it gave him problems.”

“What kind of problems?”

“Oh, he drove it like a mad man,” Harry answered, “and although he loved it because it was fast, there were plenty of times it wouldn’t start for him.
Took him several minutes to start the cursed vehicle when it acted up like that.”

“That’s happened to me a few times already.”

“Yes, that man did like his cars fast. Shoot, he liked anything fast.”

“Even women?”
Nick cocked his eyebrow.

Harry chuckled.
“Even women.”

Perhaps Edward did have an affair with Cassandra after all,
Nick thought.

Harry clapped him on the shoulder. “So tell me, will you be returning to work soon?”

“Of course.”
Nick didn’t want to stop searching for Anthony and Cassandra, but he didn’t want to raise suspicions with Harry, either. Nick had to make sure he’d be allowed in the newspaper building on the day of Abby’s murder.

“Good. I have some exciting news to share today, and I want everyone to be there to hear it.”

Nick folded his arms across his chest.
“Oh, really?
You have me curious. Can’t you give me a hint as to your news now?”

“Well, I suppose I can say something.” Harry grinned wide. “By this time next week, I will be the new owner of the
Sacramento Journal.”

Nick threw back his head and chuckled.
“So Abby decided to sell it to you after all.”

“Yes, she did.”

“And what about Alexander?
Did she talk to you about him?”

Harry nodded. “Starting next week he’ll begin his new job at the newspaper.”

Nick clapped his hands. “Awesome!”

“
Awesome
? I don’t think I’ve heard that word used that way before, Nick. What do you mean?”

“It just means it’s great.”

“I see,” Harry said. “Well, then it is awesome, as you put it. I’m very thrilled. This has been my dream for a long time, thanks to Edward.”

“Then I’m happy to see
it’s
coming true for you.”

“Indeed. And to think I nearly married Abigail for it.”

Nick held his breath. Harry was going to propose to Abby the day before she was murdered, which would be tomorrow. So, with this idea out of Harry’s mind, Nick was already altering history. His heart leapt. If he could alter history, maybe Abby wouldn’t be killed after all, even if he couldn’t piece everything together in the next few days.

“So you actually considered asking Abby to marry you just to get the newspaper?”

Harry shook his head. “Oh, it wouldn’t have been like that. I felt I should protect her, because that’s what her father would have wanted. She’s been kept in a glass house all these years, and I feared she wouldn’t know what to do with her life, and especially her inheritance.”

“That makes sense,” Nick replied. “And that’s very thoughtful of you to want to take care of her.”

“But alas, she turned me down.”

Nick’s heart nearly stopped beating. “You asked her already?”

“Oh, yes.
Yesterday, in fact.”

“Yesterday?”
Nick said.

“Yes, but she turned me down.”

“Oh, no!”
Nick put his hands over his face. If Harry proposed yesterday, that meant Abby would be murdered…
today
! Nick ran to the car.

“Nick? What’s wrong?”

“Abby is in danger tonight,” he shouted. “Help me protect her.”

Harry nodded as Nick yanked open the door and jumped in the car. He started the engine,
then
stomped on the gas pedal. He still had a few hours before it became dark, and he had to find Cassandra. She knew who was going to kill Abby.

The wheels squealed when Nick tore off onto the road. He passed cars right and left until he reached the street where Cassandra lived. He raced to her house at the end of the block. As he got out of the car, the door opened and an older woman stepped out. In her arms she held two of Abby’s dresses. It was Lillian Burnett—Lily.
 
When she saw Nick, her face paled.

He marched up the sidewalk toward her. She stood frozen, staring with her mouth agape. Nick grabbed her shoulders, digging his fingers into her skin. “Where is Cassandra?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Who are you really, Lillian?” Nick demanded. “And why are you at Cassandra Brown’s house?”

Tears welled in Lily’s eyes. “Cassandra is… my daughter.”

He inhaled sharply. This certainly complicated matters. “And why haven’t you talked about your daughter? Why doesn’t Abby know you have a daughter, Ms. Burnett?”

Tears slid down her cheeks and her bottom lip quivered.
“Because Edward didn’t want Abigail to know about her half-sister.”

Nick jumped away from her as if he’d been electrocuted.
“Half-sister?”
He shook his head. “Cassandra’s father is Edward?”

“Yes.”

Nick raked his fingers through his hair. “Where did Edward keep her hidden all these years?”

Lillian wiped her tears then wrapped her arms around the dresses as if they were her life line. “He paid for my silence. He also paid for Cassandra to stay in a girl’s school in New York. She’s been there since she was six.”

“Why is she here?”

“Because she graduated.
She’s only been in California for a couple months.”

“Does Cassandra know about her father?”

Lillian sniffed. “I finally told her a month ago. I couldn’t hold the secret in any longer. I felt my daughter needed to know.”

“What was her reaction?” Nick asked.

“She was angry at Edward, and at me.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “She vowed revenge against Edward.”

He grasped Lillian’s shoulders again. “Did she kill him? Edward had a heart attack. Do you think your daughter was behind it?”

More tears streamed down Lily’s face and she nodded.

Nick glanced at the dresses. “Why do you have Abby’s dresses? Isn’t that the one she was supposed to have misplaced the other day?”

“Y–yes.
Cassandra is stealing from Abigail. My daughter was deeply hurt when she realized who her father was, and I know she wants all the things Edward has given Abigail, but it’s just not possible. So I have been searching through my daughter’s house and taking them back to Abigail.”

“Ms. Burnett, we must find your daughter immediately. I think she’s going to try and kill Abigail tonight!”

Lillian gasped. “No!”

Nick turned and hurried to the car. He pumped on the gas as he turned the key. The engine grumbled and jerked but didn’t start. He glanced out the opened window at the sunset. Nighttime was creeping closer, and Abby had been killed after dark.

He turned the key again and pumped the gas pedal, but the car only groaned and sputtered. Nick yelled and pounded on the steering wheel. He was running out of time.

* * * *

Mumbled words floated to her from far away, voices Abigail couldn’t recognize. A thick haze filled her head and made her eyelids heavy. Her head rested on a hard surface, but she didn’t dare move it for fear the swimming sensation would start again.

Soon, the voices that had disturbed her sleep disappeared, and she became alert to her surroundings. A clock ticked much too loudly. Abigail decided that as soon as she could open her eyes and stand without feeling dizzy, she would throw the blasted clock out the window.

The squeak of the door opening startled her again, but she still didn’t dare open her eyes. “Go away,” she muttered. “I want to be alone.”

The door clicked shut, and Abigail sighed.
Good, they’ve gone away.
Then an eerie sensation rushed over her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Was she really alone? It certainly didn’t feel like it.

With much effort, she opened her eyes and slowly raised her head. The room spun and she held onto the edge of the desk to keep from falling off the chair to the floor.

Darkness surrounded her, and she blinked several times, wondering if she was dreaming now. Then she heard someone breathing, and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Finally, her vision adjusted to the small amount of light peeking through the curtains, but she still couldn’t see anyone.

“I know someone is there,” Abigail said softly. “Who are you and what do you want?”

The rustling of clothes came from the other side of the room, and she turned toward the sound. She narrowed her eyes and thought she saw the outline of a woman.

“Please, tell me what you want. Why are you here?”

“You owe me.”

The feminine voice didn’t sound familiar. “What do I owe you?” Abigail countered.

“Many things.”

The voice grew closer. When the young woman passed in front of the window, Abigail thought she looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place her. “Why do you think I owe you many things?”

“Because you have the life I want.” The woman swept her hand over the desk and grabbed Abigail’s locket. Then she walked back to the corner of the room.

Abigail sucked in a breath and reached for her throat. That was the locket her grandmother had given her.
How dare this young woman think she could take it!
“Just because I have what you want, doesn’t mean—”

The woman spun around. “Yes, it does! Our father loved you more. He wanted me out of his life, and yours.
You
owe me a life!”

Tears welled in Abigail’s eyes. This must be the half-sister Mrs. Downey and Hudson told her about. This young woman—her sister—had malice in her harsh voice. What would she do to seek revenge?

“I don’t understand. Why should I owe you a life?”

“Because of you, Abigail Carlisle, my life was taken from me.”

“Forgive me, but I still don’t understand,” Abigail replied. “You say your life was taken from you. Are you trying to tell me you’re a ghost? Are you dead?”

“No.” The cocking of a gun echoed in the room. “But you will be.”

Abigail’s heart dropped. Nick had been right when he’d told her someone was going to kill her. When the gunshot rang out, she fell to the floor.