The Best of Me - Nicholas Sparks [97]
At the bar in the country club, long after they’d finished their round of golf, Frank signaled to the bartender for another beer, unaware of the inquiring glance the bartender shot at Roger. Roger just shrugged, having switched to Diet Coke himself. The bartender reluctantly put another bottle in front of Frank as Roger leaned closer, trying to make himself heard above the noise in the crowded bar. Over the past hour, it had become packed. The game was tied at the top of the ninth inning.
“You do remember that I’m meeting Susan for dinner, so I’m not going to be able to drive you home. And you can’t drive, either.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Do you want me to call you a cab?”
“Let’s just enjoy the game. We’ll figure it out later, okay?” Frank raised the bottle and took another drink, his glassy eyes never leaving the screen.
Abee sat in the chair beside his brother’s bed, wondering again why Ted lived in a crap hole like this. The place reeked, some disgusting combination of soiled diapers and mold and God knows what else had died around here. Combined with the baby that never stopped crying and Ella skittering around the house like a frightened ghost, it was a wonder that Ted wasn’t even crazier than he already was.
He wasn’t even sure why he was still here. Ted had been unconscious for most of the afternoon, ever since he’d collapsed on the way to his truck. Ella was already screaming about taking him back to the hospital by the time Abee scooped him up and brought him inside.
If Ted took a turn for the worse, he might just do that, but there wasn’t much the doctors could do. Ted just needed his rest, same as he could get in the hospital. He had a concussion and should have taken it easy last night, but he hadn’t and now he was paying the price.
Thing was, Abee didn’t want to spend another night sitting with his brother in the hospital, not when he was feeling better himself. Hell, he didn’t even want to be here with Ted, but he had a business to run, a business that depended on the threat of violence, and Ted was a big part of that. It was lucky that the rest of the family hadn’t seen what happened, and that he’d been able to get him back inside before anyone noticed.
Christ, it stank in here—like a damn sewer—and the late afternoon heat only intensified the smell. Pulling out his cell phone, he cycled through his contacts, finding Candy, and hit send. He’d called her earlier but she hadn’t answered, nor had she returned his call. He wasn’t happy about being ignored like that. Not happy at all.
But for the second time that day, Candy’s phone just rang and rang.
“What the hell’s going on?” Ted suddenly croaked out. His voice was gravelly and his head felt like it had been subjected to a jackhammer.
“You’re in bed,” Abee said.
“What the hell happened?”
“You didn’t make it to the truck and ended up eating a pile of dirt. I dragged you in here.”
Ted slowly raised himself into a sitting position. He waited for the spinning and it came, but not as violently as it had that morning. He wiped his nose. “You find Dawson?”
“I didn’t go huntin’ for him. I’ve been watching over your sorry ass all afternoon.”
Ted spat onto the floor, near a pile of dirty clothes. “He might still be around.”
“He might. But I doubt it. He probably knows you’re after him. If he’s smart, he’s long gone by now.”
“Yeah, well, maybe he ain’t so smart.” Leaning heavily on the bedpost, Ted finally stood, tucking the Glock into his waistband. “You’re driving.”
Abee had known Ted wouldn’t let things drop. But maybe it would be good for his kin to know that Ted was up and around and ready to take care of business. “And if he ain’t there?”
“Then he ain’t there. But I gotta know.”
Abee stared at him, preoccupied with the unanswered phone calls and Candy’s whereabouts. Thinking about the guy he’d seen flirting with her at the Tidewater. “All right,” he said. “But after that, I might just need you to do something