The Widow - Carla Neggers [67]
“Anything new on Mattie?” Owen asked.
Doyle shook his head. “He knows every inch of this island. He’s got friends who’d give him a ride, pick him up in their boat—loan him a boat. If he doesn’t want to talk to us, he can make himself very hard to find.”
“Cutting my phone line was a smart preemptive strike,” Abigail said, not going inside just yet. “It delayed getting you all out here. He knew he only had a bike.”
“That’s what doesn’t make sense to me,” Doyle said. “How did he know you weren’t home? Did he happen up your driveway, see your car gone and seize the moment? I don’t know. None of it makes any damn sense. Maybe he just walked in to wait for you and decided he couldn’t explain himself—”
“So he grabbed a saw and knocked me on my ass?”
Doyle rubbed the back of his neck, the sunlight and heat—the frustration—turning his face red. “I’m just saying we don’t know until we talk to him.”
Abigail looked at Owen and gave a small smile. “The state guys confiscated my drywall saw as evidence.”
“Take a trip to the hardware store,” Doyle said. “Buy a new one. It’ll give you something to do.”
“Don’t want my help searching Mattie’s house? You’ve got enough for a search warrant—”
“Thank you for your advice, Detective Browning,” Doyle said with open sarcasm.
She was unaffected. “I should have found a stick or something to use as a cane before you all got here. Garnered some sympathy.”
“We’re all just glad you weren’t hurt worse.”
“Yeah, tough one, that’d be,” Abigail said. “Chris’s widow, John March’s daughter—”
“Just stop.” Doyle stuck a finger up at her. “Stop right now before you go too far. I try to be decent, and you—” He abandoned that thought and dropped his hand. “You try my patience, Abigail. You always have.”
She grinned at him, unrepentant. “Sorry.”
“I need to go pick up the boys. You want me to have a cruiser posted at your house?”
“Doyle—”
“Payback,” he said, with almost a chuckle. “I’ll let you know if we find Mattie.”
“I know you two go way back,” Abigail said. “I meant what I said to Lou and his guys earlier. I don’t believe Mattie attacked me with the intention of hurting me. He just wanted to get out of there without getting caught.”
“But he did attack you,” Doyle said. “Someone did, anyway. Hell, your leg’s still bleeding. You should have it looked at.”
“It’s nothing. I just overdid it. I’ll borrow Owen’s first-aid kit and put on a Band-Aid. Owen? Is that okay?”
He smiled at her. “Of course. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“I’ll be in your downstairs bathroom.” She smiled back at him. “And, thanks, but I won’t need you.”
Owen kept his mouth shut as she went inside, but Doyle called to her, “Damn thing could get infected.” He didn’t wait for an answer and growled at Owen. “You understand the position I’m in? And Katie’s not here. I’ve got all this on my plate…” He bit off a sigh and shut up. “Bring the boys by here anytime.”
“And what, let someone hack at them with a saw?”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Maybe not.” Doyle didn’t meet his eye. “I wish I knew what Mattie was up to. And Abigail. Hell. I can’t get my head around what all’s going on here. I’m hoping nothing. That when it’s all done and said, it’s just a bunch of nothing.”
Something banged inside in the bathroom. “Damn!”
Doyle glanced at Owen and smiled. “Sounds as if our detective needs some help, after all. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Chicken,” Owen said, and headed inside.
Abigail picked herself up off the bathroom floor and got out of there, leaning against the pineboard wall in the hall just as Owen arrived, steady, not at all panicked.
“All set,” she said. “I lost my balance and had a little spill.”
“Going through my bathroom cupboards?”
“Your shelves, actually. There must be five million of them in there. I checked them all for ibuprofen. I got up on the edge of the tub to see into the high ones.” She could feel her heart thumping rapidly from the near-disaster. “But no ibuprofen. And there’s none in the first-aid