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he doesn't want me, he sent me away, he hates me . . . !"
"You're upset. It's my fault, I'm sorry." There was a pause. "Will you do something
for me? There's a file at the office that you've written a note about, and I can't
make it out it's on that murder trial coming up, the Harris case could I call you
about ten in the morning? McCallum will be out," she added, "and you can decipher
the note and tell me what to do with the things in your desk, where to forward your
mail . . ."
Abby sniffed back the tears. "Okay. I'll give you the number, but you swear that
you won't give it to McCallum."
"All right, I swear," Jan said reluctantly. "Talk to you in the morning then. Good
night, Jan."
"Good night, Abby," came the reply. Now why did Jan sound so satisfied? Well, she
could tell McCallum to stop worrying, anyway, but he wouldn't know where Abby was.
Not a chance.
* * *
Abby had a fresh cup of coffee in front of her as she rifled through the papers on
her desk. Pettigrew had gone to court, and the office was empty. She'd caught up
the correspondence and was working on a divorce petition. It looked like a slow day,
so she didn't feel guilty about taking the time to have a second cup of coffee.
The phone rang four times before Abby picked it up breathlessly and gave the name
of the law firm.
"Hi, Abby," Jan said with a smile in her voice. "Are you still okay?" she added
gently.
"Fine. Just fine. Now read me that note."
"I'll get it right now." There was a long, long pause before Jan came back on the
line. "Okay, here it is. Something about calling up Newman . . ."
"But that was about a case we finished weeks ago," Abby protested. "Are you sure
that's the right note?"
"I thought it was . . . yes, that's the only one in the file. Maybe it was misfiled," Jan
stammered.
Abby sighed. It wasn't like Jan to get rattled. "As for my stuff in the desk, just
put it in a box and keep it by you. There's bound to be a day when McCallum is out
of town and that's when I'll come by to get it."
"I'll do that. You take care of yourself, hear?"
"I will. You, too, my friend. Bye, Jan."
She hung up and stared at the receiver. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. That
was that. The last link severed. Now, all she had to do was learn to live without
Greyson McCallum.
Thirty minutes later, she was just finishing the petition when she heard the office
door open. She whirled around to see who it was, and her heart seemed to levitate
and hang in midair.
"Hello, Abby," McCallum said quietly from the doorway.
CHAPTER TEN
She stared at him with tear-filled eyes, and hated the weak part of her that
wanted to get up and run to him. But pride and hurt kept her seated.
"How did you find me?" she asked shakily.
He shrugged. "I looked up the address in the telephone directory . . ."
"Jan told you the name of the law firm," she finished for him.
He scowled. "Thank God she did. Do you know I've been all the way to Charleston
looking for you? I followed Dalton back there, expecting that I'd find you with him.
When he hadn't seen you, I had to assume the worst." He started toward her, his
whole stance menacing. The dark brown suit he was wearing made his silver eyes
seem even lighter as they glittered down at her. "I called hospitals and funeral
homes and the morgue. I called the ambulance service and the police. I gave up at
two in the morning and went to bed, and even then I couldn't sleep. When Jan came
in this morning and told me you'd called and that you were all right, I damned near
got down on my knees to thank God that you weren't lying somewhere dead."
She straightened up from the chair, standing behind it for support. "You don't have
to worry, I'm fine. I've got a new job, a new apartment a new start. I'll be fine."
"No, you won't," he said. He stopped just in front of her, and for once he looked
every year of his age. He was absolutely haggard, drawn. "I hurt you. I seem to have
done quite a lot of that over the past few days. I came here to ask you if you could
forgive me.
Her green eyes widened on his face. She'd never once heard McCallum apologize,
not to anyone. It was something he didn't do. But he was apologizing to her, with a
humility she'd never expected from him.
She dropped her eyes to the coffee on her desk. "That . . . that part of my life is
over," she told him gently. "I won't hold a grudge. You can't help what you feel,
anymore than I can."
"Do you hate me, Abby?" he asked roughly.
She shook her head. "I . . . it's just that I'm so ashamed," she whispered. Her voice
broke on the word and she half turned away.
He moved with uncanny speed for a man his size, whirling her around to catch her
hard and close in his big arms.
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