Vanished (The Saved Series, A Military Romance) (7 page)

Eric swiped
across his face with his hand. “We should go there now. Where is this shelter? I still don’t understand why she wouldn’t have contacted me or, at the very least, Joe and Mary-Margaret.” There were a lot of holes in all of this, and he needed answers, a lot of answers.

He watched both women exchange an odd look
, and he didn’t understand why.

“I see a lot of things here
,” Sister Carmen said. “People in a bad way. Lots of military, messed-up soldiers. Their families quite often pay the price. I don’t know what happened to your wife, but I can honestly tell you this woman, your Abby, was terrified of a man, a man we thought was you.”

“Could you tell us where this shelter is?” Terri asked.

“I can tell you,” Sister Carmen said to Terri, “but not you,” she added as she pointed at Eric.

“Look
, Eric. Just hang tough. I could take you home first before I go,” Terri said as she lingered with Eric in the common area, which was becoming crowded with people wandering in from the streets. There were a few women with children. As he took in all the worn-out people, he recognized a look he’d seen many times before: a resignation, a loss of hope.

“Terri, I’m coming
. That’s my wife,” he growled. He’d be damned if he was going to let anyone else talk to Abby. She needed him. Of course she did.

“I understand
, Eric, but these shelters are here to protect women and children. They can’t make an exception. First things first, Sister Carmen is phoning over now, so just stop. You have to understand this shelter is about protecting women first.”

Eric had hundreds of questions going through his mind.
The fact was that he was so close, with his first real lead to finding Abby in way too long. He was angry over the wasted time, hours, minutes, and most of all he couldn’t shake his feeling of hurt that Abby hadn’t called him. No matter what happened, she had always come to him. She was his wife—he loved her. She was the mother of his son and Rachel, their dark-haired little girl. He felt everything turn to anger, unable to understand how she could just walk out.

Eric turned when Sister Carmen strode down
the hall with a piece of paper and a frown on her face. As she approached, she started shaking her head before she stopped in front of Eric. “She’s gone. She was set up with a counselor at a transitional house. Here’s the name.” She handed the paper to Eric, and as he stared at the name written there, Rick Blaney, he couldn’t help the flash of jealousy that shot through him.

“I left a message for Rick. Th
at’s his office address, and he’s there most days.”

“It’s a start
, Eric. Sister Carmen, thank you so much for all your help,” Terri said, but Eric couldn’t take his eyes off this nun who had seen his wife, talked to her, and was trying to tell him she was a different Abby than the one he knew. Abby was strong. She’d been through hell. She was a survivor. This didn’t make any sense.

“I hope you find your wife
, and I hope you get her some help. Whatever happened, I’ve seen enough victims and people at the end of their ropes, barely getting through each day, to recognize PTSD. It’s not just soldiers it happens to. She was fleeing from something bad, at least in her mind, anyway. Talk to Rick,” she said, starting to walk away.

Eric was at a loss as he tried to absorb what this woman was saying about his wife.
“Sister Carmen, what makes you so sure? Maybe she’d had enough of the kids and me and she just left,” he said. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the fear that was in the back of his mind, which hurt more than anything.

“Eric
, your wife is in trouble. I could see that. We all have this fight or flight instinct inside us, and our brains sometimes do the oddest things to protect us. She was reacting. I can’t say for sure, Eric, but I don’t think it’s as black and white as you may believe. You need to hold on to that. Just prepare yourself, because I’ve seen soldiers who are in pretty bad shape walk away from their families and never return.”

“Come on
, Eric,” Terri said. She touched his arm, and he glanced at the room full of people and started toward the door.

“I hope you find your wife
,” someone called. It was the old homeless woman, who was standing near the door, holding a cup of coffee.

“What’s your name?” Eric asked
, seeing something in her that softened his heart.

She seemed surprised for a minute before saying, “Betty.”

“How long have you been living on the streets?”

“
Lost track. One day is the same as any other. They start to blur after a while,” she replied.

“You don’t have
a family, someone you can call?” He didn’t know why, but there was something about her that had him wanting to know more. He couldn’t just turn his back, because he didn’t understand how people could end up here and choose to be on the street.

“No one
who wants to hear from me. You’d best go find your wife,” she said before finally looking away. When Eric didn’t leave, she said, “Well, I should go help Frank. Take care of your family, Captain.”

Betty
walked away. Eric watched her and had no doubt she appeared far older than she was. The street could be hard and unforgiving, and he couldn’t help wonder what her story was.

“Ready?” Terri asked.

Eric didn’t say a word as he stepped out the door, resting his arm on the roof of Terri’s car as he watched her walk around to the driver’s side.

“
I still don’t understand why Abby didn’t try to get a hold of me. Me, of all people…” he said. “I’m her husband.”

Terri had such lovely features, and she’d been nothing but kind to him. She was together, confident
, and he couldn’t help comparing her strengths and differences with Abby.

“
Let’s just find her,” she said. “Then you can ask her that very thing.”

“Nice digs
,” Eric said as he looked around the waiting room of the shrink’s office. There were tan walls and padded chairs of deep green. The secretary sitting behind the desk was dressed in a nice skirt and blouse.

The psychiatrist
’s office was just on the edge of South Norfolk in a newer, renovated building, all steel and glass. For a minute, Eric was tempted to ask if they were in the right part of town.

“He probably does pro
bono work with the shelter,” Terri said as she wandered the waiting area, staring at the closed door. They were waiting to speak to Dr. Richard Blaney—or Rick for short, as Sister Carmen had indicated.

The door
was cracked open, and the secretary gestured for them to come in. “Doctor Blaney will see you now,” she said.

Eric didn’t know why
, but he hesitated, worrying about what this man would say to him. Would he blame him for Abby? Would he, too, see him as a monster, someone who brutalized his wife? He hated that suspicion had been cast his way. That wasn’t him, and it hurt to have anyone think of him that way. He wasn’t one of those guys, not Eric. No, he had seen all the bad, the ugly, the worst of the worst growing up. He had seen men who did horrible, despicable things to women, things that made him want to kill those men himself.

Terri turned
in the doorway. “Are you coming?”

Eric started walking,
and he couldn’t help notice the secretary glance his way, but he didn’t stop to look. He stepped into the large office, taking in the bookcase that filled one wall, the sofa, and the loveseat and desk by a large window. The room was tasteful, warm, welcoming, good quality, expensive. Even the box of tissue on the edge of the desk was a name brand.

Eric had his hands in his coat pocket
s. A man with a thick head of dark hair and dark-rimmed glasses stood up and extended his hand, walking straight over to Terri.

“D
octor Blaney,” Terri said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Rick, please
,” he said, turning to take in Eric.

Eric kept his hands in his pocket
s and looked away. Maybe the man noticed, as he didn’t offer to shake his hand.

“What can I do for you
?” he asked, gesturing to the sofa.

Eric sat at the end, Terri sat in the middle
, and the doctor sat across from them. He crossed his legs and linked his hands over his knee.

“Did you speak with Sister Carmen from the South Norfolk Shelter?” Terri asked
, unzipping her coat.

“Yes
. She called before you arrived, but, as I explained to the sister, I can’t give out any information on a patient.”

“Not even if that patient is my wife?” Eric snapped.

The doctor gave him a look and took a deep breath as if he needed to choose what he was going to say carefully. Eric recognized that move all too well. He’d seen it too many times in the military. “Many of the women I see, the problem is their husbands, so I can’t discuss my patients’ confidential files.”

“Rick
, my wife disappeared twenty-nine days ago in the middle of the night while I was on an aircraft carrier on the other side of the world, leaving our newborn baby and two-year-old girl alone.” Eric gestured to Terri. “We don’t know what happened to her. Was she attacked? Had she just had enough?” Eric was at a loss. He studied the man, though his face revealed nothing.

“Rick
,” Terri started, glancing over at Eric, “Abby is a missing person. We haven’t been able to rule out a crime, whether someone broke in and tried to hurt her. We need to find her. Could you tell us where she is?”

Rick was shaking
his head. “I wish I could.”

Eric
had had enough. He was fast losing patience with this shrink. “Where is my wife?” he said. “She never would have left me. She knows I’d never hurt her. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

“But you
already did,” Rick said. He held up his hand, maybe from the shock that must have shown on Eric’s face.

“What the hell is the matter with you
, man?” Eric snapped.

“Abby was a mess the first time I saw her. She was referred to me and was staying at the shelter. She was terrified. All I can tell you is she had classic PTSD symptoms
: paranoia, fearing the man who had taken her was back and was looking for her.” He stood up and walked over to his desk. “I can’t betray a confidence, and I understand your plight, but what you need to understand is that sometimes, PTSD can go unchecked for years. When something happens to trigger it, it’s almost as if the patient is pulled right back into her living nightmare again. It takes counselling to provide patients with the tools they need to cope and manage their triggers,” he explained. “You rescued your wife, but did you ever get her help?” Rick scribbled down something on a piece of paper.

Eric didn’t know what to say.
For the first time, he was at a loss for words. Abby had dealt with it. She had handled it. She’d talked to him after her nightmares. She’d shared with him, in the beginning. He had done everything he could to make her feel safe on base, and he had thought she was. She’d never said anything to him to indicate otherwise. He knew she was having some nightmares and hadn’t shared some things, and, for the love of God, he also knew she hadn’t wanted to worry him.

“I don’t get it
,” he said. “Abby was fine. Yes, I was worried after the baby, as she had been acting strange, but we all have crap to deal with. She was dealing with it. I thought she was going to be okay. If I had any idea this could happen, do you think I wouldn’t have moved heaven and earth to make sure she got help? My God, man, something really bad could have happened to my children,” he snapped. He started pacing the room. If this doctor was inclined to shift blame to him, he’d succeeded, because not a minute had passed where Eric hadn’t wondered if there was something else he could have done.

“This is the only address I have for Abby
,” Rick said. He handed the paper to Terri. “Just keep in mind that she may not want to be found. She may not want to go home.”

Eric said nothing as he opened the door and held it for Terri. He exchanged a glance with the doctor
, wondering why he had changed his mind and told them where Abby was.

“Eric, just a word of caution
: I can see you love your wife, but she’s no good to anyone, especially your children, until she gets the help she needs. You need to understand that.”

This doctor
might have been a professional, but Eric felt he had no idea what he was talking about. Of course Abby would come home—she just needed to know he was here. This time, he’d make sure she was taken care of, and then this doctor would owe him an apology.

They pulled
in front of an older red brick building at the edge of South Norfolk, where there was a very clear division between rundown and old and renovated and brand new. The address they had was in the former. The building was three stories tall, with the bricks cracked and chipped, the windows broken, and garbage scattered here and there. It was a place he couldn’t believe his wife would choose to live in.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Eric yanked open the door and stepped out onto an icy sidewalk. Vagrants seemed to linger up and down the street,
and a questionable man covered in body piercing and tattoos stepped out of the building. He had a look about him that said to Eric he’d more likely stick a knife in him than have a conversation with him.

Terri slid open her coat
, showing her sidearm and badge, and the man scurried the other way. Eric took in everything, and he couldn’t believe that Abby was here and had been this whole time. He found himself frozen, unable to take another step. He didn’t know what he’d do if she looked at him and refused to go with him. He didn’t know if he could handle that kind of hurt.

“
Eric, are you coming?” Terri said as she stood on the top step, her hand on the black door with meshed glass that looked a hundred years old.

He started up the steps,
his feet feeling like lead. Inside, the building reeked of urine and he didn’t know what else. There were muffled sounds of yelling, doors banging, TVs blaring. There was garbage scattered here and there on the old wood floor and down the hall, and the stairwell was narrow, but there was a suite at the bottom of the stairs that said
aretaker
, obviously missing the
C
.

“Do we knock
?” Eric asked.

“We better find out what room Abby is in
,” Terri replied.

Eric looked up the old stairwell and could see the faces of his childhood staring back at them
: young kids with messy hair and a lost look in their eyes.

Terri knocked on the door
, and Eric found himself looking around behind him, watching her back. A man’s voice barked out, “Just a minute.” Eric could hear him mumbling, and the door was yanked open to reveal a large, balding man who was more wide than tall.

“What do you want?” He glanced from Terri
to Eric. He was annoyed—the man was actually annoyed. The TV was blaring in the background, and he shouted over his shoulder, “Tina, turn it down!”

“You have an Abby Hamilton
in this building?” Terri asked, flashing her badge in the man’s face.

“She in some sort of trouble
? ’Cause I don’t want any of that here,” the man barked. He started coughing.

Eric slapped the door with his hand
. “That’s my wife. Which room is she in?”

The man took Eric in, his height and then his uniform, and obviously thought better of provoking him.
He gave Eric a look that had his skin crawling. Eric didn’t want anyone like this around his wife or anyone he cared about. The man stepped into the doorway, a little too close to Terri, and pointed up the stairs. “I don’t want no trouble here,” he said.

Eric set his hand in front of Terri and moved her back. She gave him an odd look and then smiled
, but the large man appeared irritated by the move. Eric stepped in front of Terri, blocking the man from taking one more step toward her. Apparently, he wasn’t as stupid as Eric thought.

“Third floor
, right at the end, number seven,” the man said. He slammed the door in Eric’s face.

Terri glanced
up at him when he faced her. “Are you sure you want to do this? It may be easier if I go up alone,” she said.

“Easier for who
, Terri? That’s my wife. It’s not easier, none of this is easier. Abby is my responsibility.” He started up the stairs ahead of Terri, feeling her kindness and her support behind him. It should have been comforting, really, but he couldn’t get over the fact that after all this time, Abby had been right here. From what he’d heard so far, she didn’t want to be found, and she had chosen to walk out. It didn’t matter what that shrink had said, or the nun. She should have come to him, talked to him. He could have helped her. He was her husband, after all. Eric stopped at the scraped door, the room where she was supposedly staying. He felt like an outsider, sick as his heart hammered in his chest. He’d never been so afraid in his life. He’d rather take on an enemy ship in open waters than having to knock on this door.

Maybe Terri understood how he was feeling
, as she reached up and knocked.

Eric listened to some clatter inside, then light footsteps that he imagined we
re Abby’s. She always stepped so softly, so quietly. The only thing that kept going through his mind as he waited was that she had left him. She had left Charlie, his helpless baby, screaming for hours—and Rachel… he could still see the haunted look in his little girl’s eyes. What could he say to her?

He heard shuffling
at the door, and then someone asked, “Who is it?”

His heart
ached. He would have known her sweet voice anywhere, and although he was angry as hell, it was such a relief to hear her. “It’s Eric, Abby,” he said. “Open the door.” He had to fight the urge to pound on the door just as his throat thickened. He could hear her hesitate. Even though he couldn’t see her, he could imagine her hand shaking, her eyes widening. His throat ached and thickened as he fought to hold back his pain.

A chain slid off the door, the lock clicked
, and then the doorknob turned. Slowly, the door opened, and there she was, standing there, the one woman who took his breath away with her innocence and love and honesty. But she wasn’t the same. She looked so hollow, as if the life she’d once had and her joy in living had dimmed. She stared up at Eric with such sad eyes, filled with a shimmer of tears, and he just stared at her, feeling as if the world as he knew it had just come to an end.