Shirlee McCoy - Die Before Nightfall

“Scenes from my books.”

“What?” Raven turned to Shane.

He’d settled Abby on a long couch and covered her with a blanket, his hand lingering for just a moment on her cheek. “The prints. They’re scenes from the books I write.”

“You’re an author?”

“I write inspirational fantasy adventures for kids.” He stepped to the back of the room and gestured Raven over. “Abby’s asleep. Let’s go in the kitchen.”

“I’d rather not leave her alone.”

“And I’d rather not have her wake and hear us talking about her. Life is hard enough for her right now.” Shane stepped through the doorway before Raven could argue further.

She hesitated, then followed.

The tiny kitchen sported a sink, a microwave and a small refrigerator. There wasn’t room for much more, and barely space for two people to move comfortably. Raven didn’t move. Just stood in the doorway, eyeing the man whose presence seemed to fill the kitchen. Jonas had been like that—so vital that everything around him paled in comparison.

“She wasn’t alone, you know.”

Raven blinked, tried to focus on Shane’s words. “Alone?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting to accuse me of? Leaving my aunt alone. Letting her wander around by herself when she needs to be supervised every moment of the day.” His words weren’t angry, just tired.

Raven could understand that. In the last days of Jonas’s illness she’d been tired, too. But not for the same reasons. “I don’t want to accuse you of anything. I just want to make sure you understand what you’re dealing with.”

“Believe me, I know. Abby’s been suffering from dementia for two years, and I’ve been her primary caregiver for the past three months.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility for one person, Shane.”

“I’m not doing it alone. I’ve hired people to come in and help out when I can’t be here.”

“That’s good, but not just any caregiver will do. You need trained professionals.”

Shane leaned against the counter. “Obviously you’re right. She’s wandered twice today.”

“Does she have other family? Other people who could pull shifts?”

“Abby’s son, Mark—but he’d rather have her in an assisted living facility than spend time caring for her. A few months ago he was ready to sell the house and move Abby.”

“And you said no?”

“Abby could never stand the thought of moving. I promised that if the time ever came when she couldn’t care for herself, I’d take care of her. That time is now. What choice do I have but to follow through with what I said?”

Plenty. Promises were as easily broken as they were made. “I understand you want to care for your aunt, but sometimes home isn’t the best place for a person with Abby’s problems.”

“In this case it is.” He straightened, opened the refrigerator and grabbed a soda. “Want one?”

“No, thanks.”

“I’m sorry Abby disturbed your rest.”

“She didn’t. I was already awake.”

Shane studied Raven over the rim of the soda can. She looked tired. Dark smudges marred the skin beneath her eyes and her face seemed a shade too pale. The white cotton shift she wore half tucked into a pair of baggy jeans could only be a nightshirt. Obviously she’d tried to sleep. Had worry kept her awake? Nightmares?

That he was curious worried Shane. He had too much to do, too many responsibilities to take on any more. Not that Raven was asking anything from him. On the contrary, she seemed quite capable of taking care of herself and everyone around her.

Did anyone take care of her?

Raven shifted and edged toward the door, nervous, it seemed, in the face of Shane’s scrutiny. He set the soda can down, purposely turning away for a moment, giving her the space she seemed to want. “About what happened tonight…”

“You don’t have to explain. Even the best caregiver makes mistakes.”

“Yeah, well, I’m afraid this time the caregiver in question isn’t the best.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Shane.”

He couldn’t help it, he laughed, turning to meet Raven’s gaze again. “Not me. Not this time, anyway. I hired a college student to stay nights with Abby. Sherri’s been reliable and responsible so far. And she says she’s a light sleeper and hears Abby when she starts to wander. I’m surprised she didn’t this time.”

Raven tensed at his words, something that looked like fear in her eyes. “Have you seen Sherri? Talked to her tonight?”

“Earlier. I was getting ready to check on them both when I heard you out front. Why?”

“Abby was hysterical when I found her. Sobbing. Covered with dirt. She said something about a woman being dead. Said it was her fault. It probably means nothing—”

“Stay here. I’ll check.”

It was nothing. It had to be. There was no way something had happened to Sherri. No way Abby could be responsible for it. Shane ran anyway, down the stairs, across the yard and into the house. The alarm hadn’t been set. Setting it was one of the responsibilities of the caregiver and the only way to be sure Abby didn’t walk outside at night. Sherri had never forgotten before, so why tonight?

“Sherri?” Shane’s heart pounded in his ears as he waited at the closed bedroom door. He knocked twice and swung the door open.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to see. He only knew he was relieved to find Sherri asleep on the foldout cot.

“You okay?” He nudged her shoulder, his tension easing as she groaned and sat up.

“What? What’s going on?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Shane flipped on the light. Saw her flushed cheeks, her bright, glassy eyes. “You feeling okay?”

“I’m all right. Just a scratchy throat.” She looked around. Her eyes widened and she leaped from the cot. “Abby. Where is she?”

“A neighbor found her wandering around outside.”

“That’s not possible. I would have heard the alarm.”

“You must have forgotten to turn it on.”

“No. I did turn it on.”

“Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, Sherri.”

“Yeah? Well, not me. Not when it’s this important. I turned on the alarm right after you left. My head was pounding and I wanted to lie down once Abby fell asleep, so I punched in the numbers before I even walked out of the foyer.”

Shane wouldn’t argue the point. There was no sense in it. “Maybe you did. But when I came in a minute ago the alarm wasn’t set.”

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head, winced and swayed.

Shane put out a hand to steady her, and was surprised at the heat of her skin. “You’re sick. You need to go home. Sit down. I’ll get Abby and give you a ride.”

“I don’t need a ride. Thanks for offering, though.”

“Humor me. Stay put until I get back.”

He ignored her sputtered protest and headed back outside.

Raven was waiting at the office door, anxiety clear in the fine lines around her mouth and eyes. “Is she all right?”

“She’s sick. A fever, headache, sore throat.”

“Sounds like strep throat.”

“Yeah?”

“That or a viral infection.”

“Sounds like you know something about it.”

“I’m a home health-care nurse. Or I was. I’ve taken a leave of absence.”

A nurse? Shane didn’t know why he was surprised. Thus far, Raven’s reaction to Abby had been relaxed, friendly, concerned—all the things Shane would expect from someone used to dealing with patients. But a nurse? It was much easier to imagine her a wandering flower-child.

“I should have guessed that. You’ve been great with Abby.”

“I’ll go in and see how Sherri’s doing.”

“She’s in the bedroom at the top of the stairs,” he said. “The back door to the house is unlocked.”