Page 14 of Claws and Feathers

Abby didn’t wait for Daphne’s reply, nor did she look back to see the confused expression that likely graced her friend’s face. She knew it was there, though. How could Daphne –anybody– possibly understand the way Abby was feeling?Abbydidn’t even know how she was feeling. An adequate adjective did not exist. It had yet to be created.

She made her way into the guest bedroom, then peered out through the vinyl blinds. Cooper’s patrol car still sat in the driveway, the engine turned off and the window cracked. Abby could see him munching on something from the driver’s seat. Her mind wandered to his sudden aloof disposition. There had been a fleeting spark in his eyes when he’d approached her, but it was as if he’d flipped a switch and snuffed it out just as quickly.Why?

Abby stepped away from the window and collapsed onto the foot of the bed. It didn’t matter. She would get through this alone, as she was accustomed to doing. Being kidnapped, beaten, and starved didn’t change anything. She would persevere.

A thought came to her mind and she reached into the pocket of her cotton shorts. She pulled out a business card that had been given to her at the hospital – it was a referral for a local psychiatrist. Abby was no stranger to counselors and therapists. She was sixteen years old when her parents had died, and Nana Cecily had taken her and her brother in. Ryan withdrew completely. Abby stayed strong. Well… in terms of outward appearances, anyway. On the inside, Abby slowly deteriorated until she’d become a shell of the young, vibrant girl she’d once been. Sometimes she wondered why Nana was so protective of her. Sofond. Nana had never been that way with Ryan, and the resentment he’d built up pushed him right out of Nana’s sprawling mansion and into the unsavory world of drugs.

Abby’s psychologist at the time had helped. Nana didn’t like talking about the accident, so that left few people for Abby to confide in. Jordan had never known how to manage her grief, which was understandable. He’d only been a teenager at the time – there wasn’t a chapter in the high school sweetheart manual titled, ‘How to Handle Your Girlfriend Becoming An Orphan’. Jordan was simply ill-equipped, and Abby couldn’t fault him for that. She could only fault him for sleeping with his neighbor behind her back for the last four years of their relationship.

Asshole.

Abby gripped the business card between her thumb and finger, her eyes grazing over the name: Maya Lowry, M.D.

Daphne was right. Abby needed to talk to someone. Unfortunately, Daphne was not that someone.

Maybe Maya would be.

Cooper pulled into his driveway and smiled when he spotted Kate pulling weeds from his front walkway. She was on her knees, covered in dirt and sweat, her hands hidden by yellow gardening gloves. She turned her head when his car drove up, and she swiped away a strand of hair that had matted to her forehead. Cooper enjoyed their arrangement. Kate was his landscaper and he was her handyman. It worked.

“Did Walker relieve you?” Kate stood up and pulled off her gloves, wiping the back of her hand along her hairline.

Cooper shut his car door and tossed his keys into the air. “Yeah. Maybe I can actually get a nap in.”

“Jesus, Cooper. You look like shit,” she said, eyeing him with sisterly worry. “When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

He sniffed, unruffled by the assessment. The truth was, he hadn’t slept more than a few hours straight in weeks. He’d spent every waking minute working Abby’s case. And when he wasn’t awake, he was dreaming about cuffing the son-of-a-bitch who’d taken her. “I’ll be fine, sis.”

“Fine, my ass. You need to take care of yourself. You can’t catch the bad guys if you’re a walking zombie.” Kate brushed the front of her palms against her denim-clad thighs, then gave her ponytail a tug. “How is she, anyway?”

Cooper hesitated, unsure of how to answer that question. Abby seemed oddly…okay. She had even laughed. It seemed almost preposterous. “She’s, uh… fine, I guess.”

“Fine?” Kate repeated. “Like the ‘fine’ you just claimed to be? God, I hate that stupid word.”

He rolled his eyes, not in the mood for his sister’s probing. “Yeah. She’s fine.”

“She’s lying if she said she’s fine, Cooper. The poor girl was chained up in a van, starving to death with a freakshow,” Kate said. “Did you try talking to her?”

“Not really my place, Kate.”

She raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Your asshole face was the first thing she saw after being locked away from the outside world for two weeks. You’re probably the one person who can reach her right now.”

That, right there, was the issue. Cooper did feel a connection. Hell, he’d felt it when they’d locked eyes across the bar that first night. But things were different now. Abby was at the crux of his investigation and he couldn’t allow himself to feel anything other than a sense of responsibility. He needed to solve her case, and that meant keeping his distance. That meantnotreaching her – not like that. “Look, my obligation to Abby is to catch the guy who did this to her. I’m not her friend.” Cooper was aware of how cold he sounded, but he had no other choice.

Kate tapped her sandal against the grass, her arms folding across her chest as she studied him. “When did you become so detached? Your emotions made you a good cop.”

“My emotions prompted me to marry a woman all wrong for me. I prefer to keep this strictly business.”

She looked away, pursing her lips together. “Yeah, well… Abby isn’t Maya. And I’m not telling you to marry the girl. Maybe she just needs someone to talk to.”

“She has Daphne,” Cooper said.

Kate snorted. “Super helpful.”

Cooper sighed wearily. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’ll be back with the perennials tomorrow.” Kate offered him a final glance that bordered on concern, and picked up her gloves and gardening tools.

Cooper watched her head towards her car, trying not to let her words get to him. Kate always had a way of chipping away at his barriers and forcing him to question everything. He had left the hospital that first day conflicted and torn. After two weeks of learning everything he could about Abigail Stone and obsessing over this case – losing sleep, canceling plans, neglecting his own needs – he’d felt an attachment growing. How could he not? It came with the territory.

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