Evidence of Life - By Barbara Taylor Sissel Page 0,7
of legend, one of those urban myths, but many continued to tell the story and to believe in it for the hope it brought them.
* * *
When Abby finally reached Jake, she had to grope for the words to explain, and once she found them, his reaction struck her as odd. Something in the way he said, “Oh, God,” made her think for just a moment that he would say he’d known something awful was going to happen. But he didn’t. “When did you last hear from them?” he asked.
Abby told him about Lindsey’s call and what she thought Lindsey had said and her doubts about it, and her voice cracked.
“It’s okay, Mom, I’m on my way. We’ll find them.”
Abby said, “No, Jake,” and paused. Her eyes welled with tears at how calm he was, how he took such care to reassure her—as if he were the parent. “You can’t get through,” she said when she recovered her voice. “All the roads are washed out. Anyway, you have finals.”
“I’m coming, Mom.”
The line went dead in her hand. Phone service was still unreliable. She looked at Kate.
“What?”
“He says he’s coming. What if he gets lost, too?” The tears Abby had so far contained spilled over now. “Oh, God, Katie. Where are they?”
* * *
It was after nine o’clock on the night of Abby’s arrival at the ranch, and she was on the porch alone when a woman wearing a yellow rain slicker approached her. The woman’s blond hair was wet and plastered to her forehead and cheeks; she looked exhausted. She looked to Abby like one of the rescue workers, and when she asked if Abby was Mrs. Bennett, the wife of Nicholas Bennett, the attorney from Houston who was missing, Abby nodded and braced herself to hear the worst.
The woman gave her name, Nadine Betts, and said she was a reporter. She gave the call letters of a local television station, too, but Abby didn’t catch them. She was terrified of what the reporter would say next.
“Your husband and daughter weren’t out here camping, were they?”
Abby could only stare.
The woman inclined her head in a conspiratorial manner. “Look, it’s just you and me here, okay? You can talk to me. You’re meeting them later, right? Then at some point, your son will join you.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Come on. You must realize how it looks, Mrs. Bennett,” the reporter insisted. “Your husband goes missing within days of Adam Sandoval jumping bail?”
Abby frowned, nonplussed.
“The attorney for Helix Belle? The one they arrested for embezzling—”
“I know who he is,” Abby said. Two years ago, Adam Sandoval had been on the legal team for Helix Belle Pharmaceutical when Nick’s law firm had brought suit against them for distributing pediatric flu vaccine that had been tainted and caused the death of one child and irreparably damaged the hearts of a number of other children.
“Your husband worked with Sandoval,” the reporter said.
“They were on opposite sides. Nick defended those children. He’s the one who secured the settlement funds for them. He would have no reason to steal—”
“Oh, there are plenty of reasons, Mrs. Bennett. A half million of them. Surely you aren’t going to tell me it’s a coincidence that the cash, along with Sandoval and your husband, is missing.”
“That’s enough, Nadine.”
Abby looked around and saw Dennis Henderson, and she was grateful for his support when he slipped his hand under her elbow.
He ordered the reporter off the porch, but she kept pace. “Sheriff, you know who Nick Bennett is. Will you keep looking for him and his daughter under the circumstances?”
“No comment.” The sheriff ushered Abby through the door.
The reporter wedged her foot into the gap. “Come on, Dennis, I won’t keep her long.”
“Back off, Nadine,” he said and managed to close the door.
“My husband had nothing to do with that money,” Abby said. “He was cleared months ago. I can’t imagine why that reporter is asking about that now.”
“The San Antonio D.A. is concerned your husband’s disappearance and Adam Sandoval’s could be related.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
The sheriff said, “Maybe.” He set his hat on a nearby table and said, “We had a local boy, Tommy Carr, who got a dose of that bad vaccine. It put him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Folks in this part of the state are still pretty riled.”
“We knew someone, too, who was injured,” Abby said. “That’s how Nick ended up representing the families of the victims, but I still don’t see—”