Come Home: a novel - Part 20
Library

Part 20

"Mine, either." Victoria paused. "She usually calls me back, eventually. She would have called by now, especially after the last message I left."

"Why? What did you say?"

"I yelled at her."

Jill could imagine. "Did you check the house again?"

"Yes, and I don't think she's been home. The car is there."

"How about the cat?"

"I don't know, I didn't check. I never see that cat."

Jill sank into her chair, her gaze wandering over the things in her office, ending with the miserable ficus. "Do you have any idea where she could be?"

"No, none."

"Is there anyone she would turn to?"

"Not that I know of, in particular."

"What about Neil Straub? Would she call or contact him?"

"I guess that's possible," Victoria answered, sounding encouraged. "It makes sense she'd contact him, but I don't have Neil's number or address."

"I have his address. It's in Manhattan. I can go see him tomorrow, on my day off."

"No, I can go. I'm going into the city tonight, for dinner."

"I don't think you should. It might not be safe." Jill caught herself before she called Victoria "honey." "If Neil had anything to do with your father's death-"

"That again?" Victoria scoffed, cold again. "Enough. Stop with that."

"Please, let me go instead. It can wait a day."

"Dad wasn't murdered, and Neil is his best friend. I can go see if she's there, I'm a big girl. What's the address?"

Jill told her. "Let me know what happens, okay? You have my cell number."

"Good-bye," Victoria said abruptly, hanging up.

Jill hung up. If Victoria was going to see Neil Straub, now Jill was worried about her.

And just like that, Jill was a mother of three, again.

Worried, times three.

Chapter Thirty.

"What happened?" Jill said into her cell phone, when Victoria called back. It was after dinner, and she was in the kitchen, returning calls from patients and charting on the laptop. Sam was reading in the family room, and Megan was upstairs in the shower.

"Neil wasn't home. The guy at the desk buzzed. It's a doorman building."

"They called the apartment from downstairs?"

"Yes. It's 4-D, but he didn't answer." Victoria sounded cool, almost businesslike. But not angry, so Jill counted that as progress.

"When were you there?"

"I made them try when I got there, around six o'clock, then I went for dinner and came back later, at eleven. Neil still wasn't home, and I still haven't heard back from Abby. Have you?"

"No." Jill rubbed her forehead, slouching behind her laptop. It had been a long day at work, and she'd seen a slew of flu, colds, and sinus infections that didn't respond to antibiotics. If she could bottle the resourcefulness of a sinus infection, she could find Abby in no time. "Did they tell you when Neil's expected back?"

"No, they don't know."

"When did they see him last?"

"They didn't say."

"Did they see Abby?"

"They didn't say that, either."

"Did you ask?"

"Yes, but they said they don't give out information about the residents. They blew us off."

"Who's us?"

"My friend Brian came with me, after dinner."

"Did you tell them it was an emergency?"

"Yes, but they still wouldn't tell me anything about the residents."

"Understood." Jill felt momentarily stumped. Her gaze shifted restlessly around the kitchen. The dishwasher thrummed, and the granite countertops glistened. "The fact that Neil isn't there doesn't mean much. He could be elsewhere with Abby. So the issue is if the doorman has seen Abby, or if anybody else around the building has, like other tenants."

Victoria snorted. "They for sure won't let me ask any other tenants."

"You don't have an office address for Neil?"

"No."

"Do you know the name of his company, if he has one?"

"No."

Jill didn't like what she was thinking. Even if Neil wasn't a suspect, he could be in danger, too, if he and William had been involved in anything crooked. Either way, Abby could be in danger if she was with him.

"Jill-" Victoria hesitated.

"What?"

"I'm worried she could do something to herself, if you know what I mean."

"No. What do you mean?"

"I mean, like, suicide."

"Don't be silly. She'd never do anything like that."

Victoria fell silent a moment. "She already has. She tried it once, before."

Jill thought she'd heard Victoria wrong. "What?"

"Abby tried to kill herself, before."

"No!" Jill cried out, reeling. "When? How?"

"A while ago, about three months after we left the house. I was at school, and she called me and told me that she and Dad had a big fight." Victoria hesitated. "She was telling him that you guys should get back together. He said no, that the marriage was really over, and never to answer your emails. The next day, she tried to, you know, commit suicide."

Jill's heart broke. "How?"

"Pills. She took the whole bottle."

"What pills?"

"Lexapro. She was on it, for depression. She still is, that's why she shouldn't drink."

Jill didn't have to ask when Abby's depression had started, because she could guess.

"I found her. Dad had left that morning on business. I stopped home, just by chance. I thought she was taking a nap, but she wouldn't wake up. If I hadn't come by, she'd be ... gone."

Jill visualized the scene, horrified. After a bottle of Lexapro, Abby would be almost comatose. It wasn't a suicidal gesture, it was a bona-fide attempt.

"That's why I've been so mad at you." Victoria's tone softened, just a little. "I blamed you for her trying to kill herself, and deciding to be a screw-up, the rest of her life. If you hadn't left, she'd be fine, and I wouldn't have to act like her mom all the time."

Jill listened, and her head dropped into her hands. She never would have believed Abby would do anything like that. Abby's pain must have been so deep, like an agony.

"So that's what's worrying me, now. I try not to worry about her, and I don't want to worry about her, but I do, all the time, like if she does it again, it'll be my fault..." Victoria's sentence trailed off.

"I'm so sorry, Victoria." Jill's head was still in her hands, and she let all of her regret and anguish flow. "I'm so sorry for what happened to Abby, and for what you had to deal with. I never wanted it to be-"

"Whatever," Victoria interrupted, cool again. "You see the problem now. I'm not worried about somebody hurting Abby. I'm worried about Abby hurting Abby. That's why we need to find her, fast."

"Okay, right." Jill rubbed her face, straightening up. She willed her emotions under control. "I know what to do. I need to go back to the police and light a fire under them. It's been another whole day, she's still missing, and they should know all the facts, especially this one."

"No, I'll go instead. I can do it. It's my place."

"Can we go together?" Jill asked, hopeful. "I've been there before, and they know me. I can meet you there, it's Central Detectives, on 21st Street."

"No, I'd prefer it if you didn't go. I'll go with Brian." Victoria's tone was final, and Jill could feel her maintaining the wall between them.

"Why don't we just go together?"

"Jill, you have to respect what I'm saying. Can't you do that, please?"

"Okay, fine, if that's what you want." Jill surrendered, tired of fighting and getting nowhere. "Ask for Detective Reed. He's the one who handled the investigation of your father's death. Detective Pitkowski is the one I spoke with, because Reed wasn't there."

"Got it."

"Please call me and let me know how it went?"

"If I have time. I have a brief due, for legal writing."

Jill bit her tongue. "Please let me know if Abby calls you then, okay?"

"That, I'll do."

"I think I'll go up to Manhattan tomorrow and stop by Neil's apartment, to see if they'll tell me anything they wouldn't tell you."

"Okay, whatever. Knock yourself out."

"Thanks, bye. Love you," Jill said automatically, hearing herself end the call the way she always used to, with Victoria.

Love you.

"Babe, you okay?" Sam asked, from the threshold of the kitchen.

Jill pressed END. She didn't know if Victoria heard her, or how long Sam had been standing there.

And she didn't like the look in his eye.

Chapter Thirty-one.

"Did you say that Abby tried to commit suicide?" Sam asked, quietly.