Read Online A Cowboy's Touch by Denise Hunter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Denise Hunter
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I’m telling Mom. How are your symptoms?”
“Better.”
“That’s nice and vague.”
“Stop being a worrywart. How much trouble can I get into in a town the size of Moose Creek?”
“You? Plenty.”
“Ha-ha. Stop worrying and get some sleep before you get another emergency.”
Abigail said good night, then checked on Maddy, who was crawling into bed. She tucked the girl in, retrieved the laptop from the living room, then returned to her room and booted up.
Abigail closed her laptop, her mind reeling. Reagan had been right. There’d been plenty of gossip about Wade’s part in his wife’s death. Some of the articles were over the top—clearly he hadn’t killed his daughter and himself, but he had disappeared.
Had he just grown tired of being the subject of gossip, or was there something more? Something more sinister? He seemed like a nice guy—tonight’s dispute aside—but Abigail knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. People, seemingly normal people, were capable of awful things.
Several articles mentioned a heated argument. Was there another man or woman involved? Did Wade have a temper, had he lost control? The police’s conclusion of accidental death didn’t hold much weight with her. They could be fooled or even bought off.
Was there a connection between Wade’s emotional distance from Maddy and guilt? Was he capable of murder? If he was, Maddy could be in danger. Abigail had seen too much to believe all parents had their children’s best interests at heart, despite what they said.
Her thoughts crept back to the one piece of evidence she couldn’t escape: his running. If Wade had nothing to hide, why not face the questions and state the truth until the gossip died down?
Abigail smothered a yawn and realized she’d gone way past her bedtime. She set the laptop on her nightstand and slipped under the covers, making a decision as she tucked the quilt under her chin.
She wasn’t going to stop until she had answers. One thing she knew from the stories she’d covered: someone always knew something. She just had to find that someone and extract the facts. The truth was out there somewhere, and she was going to uncover it.
10
O n Sunday Abigail went to church with Aunt Lucy and made a point of listening to the sermon. The preacher taught on the fruit of the Spirit and managed to hold her attention, and Aunt Lucy’s friends were as welcoming as they’d been the week before.
She and her aunt ate a simple lunch in the cabin. Abigail stayed alert for signs of dementia. Aunt Lucy had asked her twice if she wanted ice cream and had once been unable to come up with the word futile . But that could happen to anyone, right?
Through the afternoon, Abigail also tried to draw information from her aunt about Wade. Abigail went into it determined to take every comment seriously, no matter how absurd it sounded—after all, the Sexiest Man Alive had panned out. But Aunt Lucy had nothing new to share, ridiculous or not.
So Abigail left that evening, feeling troubled about Aunt Lucy’s health and disheartened that she’d turned up nothing on Wade. She had to keep trying.
There were a few ways of collecting information. The Internet, questioning others, and Abigail’s least favorite, snooping. She’d continue her online research and question people in Wade’s life. Wade was the one who knew for sure, but he also had the most to lose and would therefore be the hardest one to crack.
Her next step was to see how much Maddy remembered. Also, Wade may have confided in Dylan. They seemed to have a long history together. Greta and Pee Wee were potential sources. Wade may have shared information with his cowhand, and if Pee Wee knew something, it was likely he’d shared it with his wife.
The summer was looking more interesting. She would continue to observe Aunt Lucy, take care of Maddy, and investigate Wade’s past on the side. If he was guilty of murder, she was going to find out
“Better.”
“That’s nice and vague.”
“Stop being a worrywart. How much trouble can I get into in a town the size of Moose Creek?”
“You? Plenty.”
“Ha-ha. Stop worrying and get some sleep before you get another emergency.”
Abigail said good night, then checked on Maddy, who was crawling into bed. She tucked the girl in, retrieved the laptop from the living room, then returned to her room and booted up.
Abigail closed her laptop, her mind reeling. Reagan had been right. There’d been plenty of gossip about Wade’s part in his wife’s death. Some of the articles were over the top—clearly he hadn’t killed his daughter and himself, but he had disappeared.
Had he just grown tired of being the subject of gossip, or was there something more? Something more sinister? He seemed like a nice guy—tonight’s dispute aside—but Abigail knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. People, seemingly normal people, were capable of awful things.
Several articles mentioned a heated argument. Was there another man or woman involved? Did Wade have a temper, had he lost control? The police’s conclusion of accidental death didn’t hold much weight with her. They could be fooled or even bought off.
Was there a connection between Wade’s emotional distance from Maddy and guilt? Was he capable of murder? If he was, Maddy could be in danger. Abigail had seen too much to believe all parents had their children’s best interests at heart, despite what they said.
Her thoughts crept back to the one piece of evidence she couldn’t escape: his running. If Wade had nothing to hide, why not face the questions and state the truth until the gossip died down?
Abigail smothered a yawn and realized she’d gone way past her bedtime. She set the laptop on her nightstand and slipped under the covers, making a decision as she tucked the quilt under her chin.
She wasn’t going to stop until she had answers. One thing she knew from the stories she’d covered: someone always knew something. She just had to find that someone and extract the facts. The truth was out there somewhere, and she was going to uncover it.
10
O n Sunday Abigail went to church with Aunt Lucy and made a point of listening to the sermon. The preacher taught on the fruit of the Spirit and managed to hold her attention, and Aunt Lucy’s friends were as welcoming as they’d been the week before.
She and her aunt ate a simple lunch in the cabin. Abigail stayed alert for signs of dementia. Aunt Lucy had asked her twice if she wanted ice cream and had once been unable to come up with the word futile . But that could happen to anyone, right?
Through the afternoon, Abigail also tried to draw information from her aunt about Wade. Abigail went into it determined to take every comment seriously, no matter how absurd it sounded—after all, the Sexiest Man Alive had panned out. But Aunt Lucy had nothing new to share, ridiculous or not.
So Abigail left that evening, feeling troubled about Aunt Lucy’s health and disheartened that she’d turned up nothing on Wade. She had to keep trying.
There were a few ways of collecting information. The Internet, questioning others, and Abigail’s least favorite, snooping. She’d continue her online research and question people in Wade’s life. Wade was the one who knew for sure, but he also had the most to lose and would therefore be the hardest one to crack.
Her next step was to see how much Maddy remembered. Also, Wade may have confided in Dylan. They seemed to have a long history together. Greta and Pee Wee were potential sources. Wade may have shared information with his cowhand, and if Pee Wee knew something, it was likely he’d shared it with his wife.
The summer was looking more interesting. She would continue to observe Aunt Lucy, take care of Maddy, and investigate Wade’s past on the side. If he was guilty of murder, she was going to find out
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