The idea of her being handcuffed and fingerprinted was a delight. The woman drank like a fish. Stupid people bothered Abigail. Her own IQ blew off the charts and always made her the most intelligent person in any room. However, Laurel remained a question mark. Was it possible that her half sister had a higher IQ? Abigail chuckled. Of course not. Her phone dinged, and she pressed the button on the dash. “Dr. Caine.”
“Dr. Caine, this is Dr. Rudolph from Northern Washington Technical Institute. Where you work.”
She rolled her eyes and tapped her red-painted nails on the steering wheel. “What can I do for you, Richard?”
“I’m wondering why you canceled your Computational Neuroscience class this morning,” he snarled. “In addition, I believe you have a cognitive science upper division class this afternoon.”
She drove out of the city hub toward unincorporated land, noting the snow-laden branches of the pine trees around her. When would winter end? “I have my neuroscience students working on projects.” She fully intended to teach her afternoon class in person on campus. “I don’t believe I asked for your input on my syllabi or schedule.”
He cleared his throat. “May I remind you that I’m your boss?”
She chuckled. “May I remind you that you had an affair with a seventeen-year-old coed two years ago?”
Heavy silence hung over the line. “If you think I’ll allow you to blackmail me any longer—”
“Stop it, Richard.” She did not have time for his nonsense. “Just think of the headlines and piss off.” She ended the call. As the best teacher at the institute, her students often reached glorious careers. Her neuroscience students actually currently worked on several important projects, and she’d given them the day to do so.
Of course, protecting Laurel came above all else.
Abigail turned down another snowy winter road. Laurel didn’t appreciate the effort Abigail expended, but someday she would. The woman was a fascination. They looked similar enough to be twins, although Abigail had at least four inches of height on her sister.
Unfortunately, Huck Rivers kept getting in the way. Someday it would just be Abigail and Laurel touring the world. Thinking of the things she could show her sister delighted her. Of course, Laurel needed to get on board. The baby would help. The baby would be a little genius like them, and Laurel would require Abigail’s help.
She pulled down the long drive of the Genesis Valley Community Church, unsurprised to see two vans overloaded with heavy equipment and satellites parked near the front. Their father planned a megachurch, no doubt, so he could make millions. She appreciated his quest for money because with money came power, or at least freedom. Yet, he deserved neither.
She drove halfway down the drive and pulled over to see him emerge from the church and check the vans, shaking hands with the men who stepped out. It was quite unfortunate he hadn’t died when she’d repeatedly stabbed him last month. She had had him close to meeting his maker when Laurel had intervened and saved his life. That was one wrong for which Laurel should pay. How could she have saved that bastard?
Abigail shook her head.
As if sensing he was being watched, her father looked up and spotted her. An expression crossed his face that she couldn’t quite read. He said something to the men and then walked toward her, wearing a heavy down jacket that no doubt protected his chilly heart from the even colder wind. His bald head had to be freezing, however.
She took great pleasure in the thought and rolled down her window.
He arrived while the men behind him unpacked the many satellite dishes. “Abigail, what are you doing here?”
She smiled. “I’m checking on things. I know what you’re up to.”
He looked back at the workers. “Yes, I’m going to save souls across this great land of ours.”
“Oh, please. You don’t care about souls; you care about coffers.”
He smiled, and an unwilling chill wandered down her back. “Don’t forget I can always suddenly remember who tried to murder me a short time ago.”
She waved a hand in the air. “I wouldn’t, but you feel free to do what you must.”
“I always do.” His chin lowered.
She looked away. “I’ve been keeping an eye on my sister and her friends. What a coincidence it is that Walter Smudgeon and Ena Ilemeto won a two-week trip to the Caribbean.”
“Did they?” Zeke asked. “I know the church had a raffle, but I was unaware who won. I don’t handle that kind of thing any longer. Pastor John would be the person to talk to, and I believe you have his phone number.”
“I surely do,” Abigail said. “Yet today, Nester Lewis, Laurel’s genius computer guru, rushed off to Seattle. Apparently, a truck barreled into his sister during her morning jog.
Zeke’s eyes widened. “That’s horrible. I will certainly add her to my prayers.”
“You’re attempting to isolate Laurel,” Abigail said. The idea of Zeke driving to Seattle and running over the computer genius’s sister showed impressive dedication. “She won’t turn to you even if she’s all alone. You need to understand that salient fact.”
Zeke wiped rain off his head. “My dear daughter, the imagination you have. I had nothing to do with the raffle, and I certainly haven’t been to Seattle to hit anybody with a truck.”
