Die Before Nightfall

“Do I know you?”

“My name is Raven. I live up the hill at the Freedman cottage.”

“Raven. A blackbird. Common. You’re more the exotic type, I’d think, with that wild hair and flowing dress.”

Raven laughed in agreement. “I’ve been fighting my name my entire life. You’re the first to notice.”

“Am I? Then I guess I’m not as far gone as I’d thought.” Despite the brave words, the tears behind Abby’s eyes were obvious, the slight trembling of her jaw giving away her emotions.

Raven let her have the moment, watched as she took a deep shuddering breath and glanced down at her bathing suit.

“I suppose it could be worse. At least I wore clothes this time. Now, tell me, where are we headed?”

“To the cottage for tea.”

“Let’s go, then.”

“Here, slip my shoes on first.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. What about you?”

“I’ve got tough skin.” Raven slid her feet out of open-heeled sneakers and knelt to help Abby put them on. “They’re a bit big, but we’ll have your own for you in no time at all.”

They made their way up the steep incline, Raven’s hand steady against Abby’s arm. It hurt to know that the woman beside her was being consumed by a disease that would steal her vitality and leave nothing behind but an empty shell. Why? It was a question she asked often in her job as a geriatric nurse. There was no answer. At least none that she could find, no matter how hard she prayed for understanding.

“Sometimes it just doesn’t happen the way we want.”

“What?” Startled, Raven glanced at Abby.

“Life. It doesn’t always work out the way we want it to. Sad, really. Don’t you think?”

Yes. Yes, she did think it was sad—her own life a sorry testament to the way things could go wrong. Raven wouldn’t say as much. Not to Abby with her stiff spine and desperate eyes. Not to anyone. “It can be, yes. But usually good comes from our struggles.”

“And just what good will come of me losing my marbles, I’d like to know?”

“We’ve met each other. That’s one good thing.”

“That’s true. I’ve got to admit I’m getting tired of not having another woman around the house.”

“Do you live alone?”

“No, I forget things, you know. I live with…I can’t seem to remember who’s staying with me.”

“It’s all right. The name will come to you.”

Of course, it wasn’t all right, was never all right when someone’s memory had gaping holes in it. But Abby seemed disinclined to discuss it further. Instead she gestured to the cottage that was coming into view.

“There it is. I haven’t been inside in ages. Have you lived here long?”

“I moved in this morning.”

“You remind me of the woman who used to live here.”

“Do I?”

“Thea. Such a lovely person. It’s sad. So sad.” The vague look was back in Abby’s eyes. Raven saw it as she helped her up the steps to the back door. Was someone out searching for the woman? Raven hoped so, as she had no idea where Abby lived. Nora probably knew. She’d call her after she got her guest settled.

She led Abby through the laundry room and kitchen, into the living room. “Is there anyone I should call? Someone who might be worried?”

Abby didn’t respond, just sat on the couch, lost in a world Raven wasn’t part of.

“Let’s take care of your feet, then I’ll make tea.” She cleaned and dressed the cuts, then helped Abby lie down. “Rest for a while. I won’t be long.”

Abby blinked up at her, then smiled. “You’re very kind and have a nurse’s touch.”

“I am a nurse.”

But Abby had already closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

“What do you mean, she’s gone? You’re being paid to take care of her. Not lose her.”

“She was watching TV, just as lucid as could be. Asked me to run out and get her some chocolate ice cream. I thought she’d be fine for a few minutes.”

“Martha.” Shane Montgomery stopped, raked a hand through his hair and took a calming breath. “We talked about this when I hired you. Aunt Abby cannot be left alone.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Martha’s quiet sniffles turned to deep sobs. “I thought she’d be fine. I never imagined…What if she’s gone to the lake? What if she drowns? It’ll be on me. On my head. Lord, forgive me.”

Shane bit back impatience. He didn’t deal well with hysterics and that was where Martha was heading, her round face red and wet with tears. “Let’s not panic yet. Aunt Abby has gone off before. She always comes home. There’s no reason to believe she won’t do the same this time.”

Except that Abby had gotten worse in the past months. So much worse that Shane was beginning to wonder if home was the best place for her. Unfortunately there wasn’t another option. He’d made a promise to her. He’d keep it. “Let’s call the police. Get them started on the search. Then we’ll—”

The phone rang, adding fuel to Martha’s fear. “What if it’s the police? What if she’s dead? It’ll be my fault. My fault.”

“Calm down, Martha. I won’t be able to hear above your crying.” Shane grabbed the phone on the third ring. “Hello.”

“Is this Shane Montgomery?” The voice was soft and pleasant.

“Yes.”

“My name is Raven Stevenson. I’m renting the Freedman property. Nora said you have an aunt. Abigail Montgomery.”

“That’s right.”

“She’s here at the cottage with me. I’m afraid she got a bit confused and—”

“I’ll be right there.”

Shane knew he was being rude, knew he should have given the woman a chance to speak, but his relief at knowing his aunt was safe overwhelmed his social skills. Not that he had many to begin with.