Relentless (Vampire Awakenings #11) - Brenda K. Davies Page 0,70
the woman was too far gone in her spite and alcohol to realize she was poking a hornet’s nest. Instead of recognizing the peril she was in, she smiled smugly as she stubbed out her cigarette.
“In the fridge,” she answered.
As she walked by, Cassidy rested her hand on Dante’s arm in the hope of calming him, but he remained tensed beneath her touch. She didn’t like this woman either, and the sooner they were out of here, the happier she would be, but fighting with her was pointless. Lindsay was too far gone in her misery to care about anyone else.
Dante finally relaxed enough to perch on the edge of the chair again while Cassidy made her way into the kitchen. As she crossed to the fridge, she ignored the crackling noise her boots created when they stuck to the yellow and brown linoleum. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for what she would find inside the fridge before opening it.
She was relieved to discover it could use a cleaning, but it wasn’t full of rotten food. Instead, bottles of whiskey lined the shelves. Pity for the woman tugged at her heart as she poured the drink and returned to the living room.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Do you often go so long without speaking to your son?” Dante asked again as Lindsay lit another cigarette.
The woman ignored the smoke floating around her face as she spoke. “He does what he does; I do what I do.”
“I see,” Dante said, but he didn’t. “Was Dr. Abbott your son’s father?”
Her bitter laugh turned into an uncontrollable coughing fit. Dante set down his pen and was about to lean over to clap her on the back when she regained control of herself. It took her another minute and a swallow of her drink to compose herself again.
“That bastard tried to deny it,” Lindsay spat. “But a paternity test proved me right and him wrong.”
“So, there was a test?” Dante asked.
“Of course, there was. That fucker refused to give me a dime until I shoved the confirmation in his arrogant face. And then he was all about not going through the courts and giving me whatever I wanted. He couldn’t have people knowing the good, perfect Dr. Abbott knocked up his receptionist. And as long as he was forking over the cash, I was happy to keep my mouth shut. I’m glad he’s dead, but I miss that cash.”
Cassidy recoiled at the harsh words.
“How old is Preston?” Dante asked.
“Twenty-two.”
“And Dr. Abbott was still giving you money for him?”
“Well, he certainly wasn’t going to let the truth come out now.”
“And the money has stopped?”
“How many dead men do you know who still pay their bills? Go on, I’m waiting. Tell me, how do you expect that bastard to pay me from the grave?”
Dante ignored her antagonistic tone as he pondered this revelation. He doubted Mrs. Abbott knew about Preston; otherwise, she probably would have kept paying if only to keep her husband’s reputation intact. And Lindsay must still have money somewhere; once it ran out, would she approach Mrs. Abbott about continuing to feed her addiction? He hoped not.
But still, he had to ask… “Does Mrs. Abbott know about your son?”
“How am I supposed to know what that hoity-toity bitch knew? Does it look like we run in the same circles? Do you think we go to the country club together on Sundays? Do I look like I get botoxed and bent over by my tennis instructor?”
Dante was beginning to find the prospect of taking control of her mind a lot more pleasant. “Do you think she knows about your son?”
“I seriously doubt that prick sperm donor told her about him. He wanted nothing to do with my beautiful Preston.”
Cassidy was finding this place and this woman’s life increasingly depressing. She lifted her head to gaze at the stains on the ceiling as tears pricked her eyes. Lindsay was a disaster now, but her love for her son was evident in her words and the old pictures.
“Did Dr. Abbott ever see Preston?”
“No. He sent money every month, but he never sent a birthday card, called, or bothered to ask how he was doing.”
Cassidy didn’t blame the woman for the bitterness in her tone. She still didn’t understand how the earlier, happier pictures of this woman and her son had deteriorated into this mess, but it wasn’t her place to judge others.
She was also beginning to feel a little uneasy about Preston’s relationship with Julie. The man had