Abby spun on her heel. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I need to move past all of this. I need to put it behind me now.”
Only, she knew there was no getting past this.
She wanted to push him aside, move him away from the gate so she wouldn’t have to face him.
She glanced at the ground by his sneakers instead of his face, unable to look him in the eye. Too mixed up inside to think straight, he made her simultaneously want to keep her secret, so he’d never know the ugly truth while wanting to spill everything. She needed a safe place to land, a soft place to fall as her world came tumbling down, and she wanted it so badly to be him that it hurt.
“I never should’ve involved you. Bringing you into all of this was a mistake,” she said, her voice thick, hating the way her eyes filled so easily with tears. It was like the dam on her emotions would never be repaired.
“Abby.” Kaden stepped forward and reached for her arm, but she took a step back, leaving him grasping in the air.
He shoved his hands in his pocket, and she tried to ignore the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with emotion, the way his voice sounded strained on his lips. “So that’s it? Did you and I...was this nothing? Are you going to say now this was only about me helping you?”
Abby brought her hands up to her face, kneading her temples in an effort to ease the drumbeat drilling holes in her brain. She could barely think, let alone make decisions she might regret.
“Of course not,” she said, trying to regain some sense of self, of what she really wanted. “But I need to do this alone. I won’t get you in any more trouble, and I won’t take you down with me. You’ve helped enough already and don’t owe me anything else. I’ve already gotten you into trouble twice now, and I’m not helping you by dragging you into this.”
His mouth twisted. “Won’t take me down with you? What in the world are you talking about?”
When she said nothing, he moved closer. “Since when have we been keeping score? I wasn’t aware we were keeping track of who’s helping who, but if you wanna know the truth, Abby...” He stepped toward her, slow and deliberate movements like he might spook her. “...you helped me more than you can ever know. And if you don’t realize how much, then you haven’t been paying attention. You taught me it’s okay to disagree with my dad and that it’s okay to have a life. You taught me that we need to take risks and make our own choices. And even if we screw up, that’s okay, too. You taught me to live for myself instead of everyone else around me. You showed me what it’s like to put myself out there, even if it’s scary, to open my heart to someone. You taught me that love is worth fighting for. And maybe we’re young and I sound foolish because we’ve only gotten to know each other these last couple weeks, but it’s how I feel. It’s my truth.”
When she said nothing, could barely even look at him, he slumped in defeat. She bit her lip, holding back, and when it became clear she wouldn’t reciprocate, he stepped away from her, toward the gate before finally leaving. And as Abby watched, she felt the loss of him like a hole in her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Abby sat in the constricting confines of the Beetle, her heart leaden in her chest. She knew what she needed to do.
Her eyes flickered to the pool house, where the Belladonna bush hid among the shadows. Gripping the steering wheel, her knuckles turned white with her inner struggle. Her heart and head wouldn’t align, and she didn’t have time to wait until they did.
No matter how much she loved him, no matter how good her grandfather was to their family, he was a fraud, a murderous liar as vicious today as he was more than sixty years ago during the war. He wasn’t Irma Mentz turned family man. He was born Irma Mentz, a young German boy. Through life and circumstance, or maybe just the blackness in his heart, he became The Butcher of Auschwitz and never turned back. Not even for a fresh start or his new family. Ensuring his freedom and safety trumped all.
Taking a deep breath, Abby grit her teeth and set her jaw, then grabbed the box from the back seat, the one that held the journal, GG’s letters, and other evidence she had collected over the past few weeks.
Nerves leapt in her belly as she plucked the business card out of the box, then retrieved her phone from her pants pocket and dialed. Her hands shook as she punched in the number and waited as it rang.
A clipped voice answered. “Office of Special Investigations, U.S. Department of Justice.”
Abby squeezed her eyes shut, praying for strength to do the right thing. Blinking, she exhaled and said, “Kenneth Levine, please.”
THE INVESTIGATOR LEANED back in his seat, pencil tapping the stack of papers in front of him as he eyed Abby like he had no idea what to make of her.
His salt and pepper hair was shorn close to his head, and the suit he wore was slightly rumpled. His narrow gaze and calculated expression had registered with Abby immediately. He had been the man at Daily Grind, the one she thought was watching her.
“I have to admit when you called and sent me that picture from your phone, I was floored.” He scratched his jaw. “I wish my secretary had told me you’d called sooner. Someone recently tipped me off with some information, and I had been looking into it, but this...”
Is that why he had been watching her? Who in the world could’ve tipped him off?
He glanced down at everything she had given him. “So, let me make sure I have this straight. Your deceased grandmother sent you a letter that spurned your hunt to uncover a family secret. And you found all of this,” he clarified.
Abby nodded, saying nothing.
He leaned forward and flicked through the images on Abby’s phone while he spoke. “I’m impressed.” Setting the phone down, he beamed. “This is amazing. I’m not sure you realize what you’ve done.”
Oh, she knew.
A voice inside screamed to take it back. But it was too late.
“Is it enough?” she asked.