“Then she’s out. Without her wallet,” he observed. “Her car’s not in the driveway.”
Ignoring him, Abby knocked at the back door and called out. When no one answered, she tried the knob, but even with a little jiggle, it remained locked.
“Turn around,” she said. “I know where she keeps a key.”
Trying not to laugh, he did as ordered while she retrieved the spare key. She probably didn’t want to know that he’d already identified the hiding place under the second step near the handrail. It was the cleanest spot on the stairs.
Hadn’t he just decided that Abby was beginning to trust him? Ha!
“All right.” Abby reached for the door. “Let’s go in and check on her.”
They really didn’t have any evidence that something was wrong. Except the wallet in his hand. He didn’t know her well, but Mrs. Wilks didn’t strike him as the sort to toss her wallet out by mistake. Not to mention he couldn’t imagine what business she had at the docks. The same things were probably running through Abby’s mind.
“Mrs. Wilks?” Abby’s voice carried through the kitchen.
As Riley followed her inside, he noticed the only light came from the window over the sink and the door they’d opened. The coffeepot on the counter was full, but the warmer light was off. A programmable model, he realized as Abby called out again. He tried not to jump to conclusions, but this wasn’t adding up to anything good.
“Does she have family nearby?”
“Her son lives in Baltimore,” Abby answered. “Mrs. Wilks? It’s Abby and—crap.”
Abby had flipped on the hallway light. Crap didn’t begin to define the mess. From his position behind her he could see the overturned umbrella stand, smashed pictures of grandchildren and other bits and pieces of Mrs. Wilks’s decor broken and scattered across the floor.
Clearly, whoever had broken into her house wasn’t worried about leaving a mess. A rush through the house confirmed Mrs. Wilks was not at home.
Abby turned on him. “When was the last time you saw her?”
He studied her, recognized her cop persona. “Is this another interrogation?”
“No. Maybe.” She clenched her fists. “Just answer me. I need a time frame.”
He thought about it. “I haven’t seen her since Calder got hurt.”
Abby’s shoulders slumped. “Damn it. I was afraid you’d say that. She didn’t help with the decorating yesterday?”
He shook his head. “When did you see her last?”
Her lips quivered. “I checked with her yesterday morning after discovering the damaged lock on my garage, but she said she didn’t hear anything.” She shook her head. “How did I go an entire day and not miss her?”
Riley could rattle off the reasons but figured it would only add to her misplaced guilt. “We can ask around the block, see if anyone saw anything.”
“That’s a good idea.” She held out her hand for the wallet. “I’ll hang on to this and call in someone to start a report and a search for her car.”
Riley wanted to hold her and give her some comfort but knew she’d resist. She’d switched over to police chief mode and all he could do was try to help.
He’d seen her face when Calder had been hurt, when the station was on fire, and thought he knew her pained expression. Neither incident had anything on the torment haunting her vivid blue eyes right now. She blamed herself and he didn’t have the words to reassure her.
“I’m sorry I pulled it away from the Dumpster.” He wanted to take some of the burden, but she didn’t let it go.
Abby caught her lower lip between her teeth. “I doubt that will make any difference. I’ll send a team over there to look around just in case.”
He heard her muttering oaths and violent promises as she called for backup. By the time he exited the back door, two of Belclare’s finest were emerging from cruisers, guns drawn.
“Hold it right there.”
Riley stopped, raised his hands. “Take it easy, officers. Chief Jensen is inside.”
“What have you done with her?”
“Abby,” he called over his shoulder.
“No,” snapped the officer closest to the steps. “What have you done with Mrs. Wilks?”
“I haven’t done anything with her.”
“Riley?” Abby walked out the side door. She swore when she saw her officers. “Gadsden, what’s going on?”
He wished her first request had been for them to lower their weapons, but he could wait it out. He hoped.
“We found Mrs. Wilks’s car down by the docks. Evidence inside the vehicle led us to the Hamilton place. There we found a scarf belonging to Mrs. Wilks on the rail by the back door. Since that’s where O’Brien is living, makes sense that he knows something about her sudden disappearance.”