Page 36 of The Right Woman

By Christmas, I’ve figured out his patterns. Fortunately, shop business is slow, then we close for a week after the holiday. Avery and Odin mainly want to play with their friends and not hang with Dad. So I cruise around town and follow Greg Hendricks to learn about his routines.

I’m not proud of it, but I attached a GPS tracker to Piper’s car before she picked it up. Just in the name of safety. That’s it.

If I can’t be near her all the time, I can observe where she’s traveling and make sure she gets home at night before I fall asleep in my own bed. That little blip staying in her parking lot provides me more comfort than I care to admit.

Part of me wonders what I’ll do if she drives to someone’s house or shows up at one of the club’s locations, but it hasn’t happened yet.

When the kids aren’t with me, I keep an eye on her from my truck. Her apartment window faces the parking lot at the back, and I have a clear view from the neighboring lot straight into the second story and up to her place. It’s only to make sure she’s alone and safe. That’s all I’m doing.

Okay, once I sent her soup from the Thai place downtown when she seemed to have a cold. She stayed in bed all day, didn’t even go to work, and sneezed when she got up once. But that was it.

And I sent her a Christmas present of Miles Davis’s “Kind of Blue” album on vinyl. With a record player. Left those in her car and she didn’t even say anything when she picked it up, which Tate informed me of later. Nothing more, though.

Other than a cat toy that I left at her door last night.Two.Two cat toys. Freckles seemed lonely.

Though…I did check on ways to break into her phone, but it seems impossible. That would be a crazy thing to do, right? Even if I were trying to keep her safe?

I wish I was tech savvy.

Am I dressed to the nines, hiding in the back of some young person’s club while watching her dance alone on New Year’s Eve? Yes. But this would be the perfect place for someone to try something with her.

“Thatone’s mine. She’s hot,” one of the university kids in front of me yells to his friend standing near the bar as they wait for their drinks. He’s wearing some paisley patterned dress shirt like he couldn’t find something classy to wear.

I sip my watered-down Scotch and eye the two men as they point at Piper, who’s shimmying in a flapper dress, each string of fabric vibrating out from her body like laser beams as she does.

His friend brushes through his brown curls with a hand and replies, “She’d make a good spit-roast, honestly. Petite like that? I’m sure she could fit us both.” They chuckle loudly, and my neck heats until I lean my head from side to side to stretch it.

A blond asshole turns around from the bartender to join in with them. It’s difficult to tell, but he looks like the stepson of the woman who died in the coffee shop. “That girl’s a complete slut. Would avoid unless you dirty assholes want syphilis. Not to mention, I don’t even think she likes dick. Her family’s a mess, but I’m trying to fix it.”

“Oh shit,” the paisley kid says. “That’s Maeve’s sister?”

Yep. Definitely Sean Harrison. He sips his beer and nods at his friend while glancing toward the end of the bar. My eyes follow and spot Maeve talking to a group of girls who look almost identical to her in their short dresses and curled blonde hair.

“Yeah. If her parents get back together, then there’s a chance I can stay with her. But I’m not tainting my future presidential bid with a child of divorce as my wife.” He nods at the two men, enraptured by his words, as if he’s some cult leader. “You know that shit runs through family lines like bad blood.”

The curly-haired kid huffs a laugh. He must be the bold one of the group, because he addresses the leader with a sneer. “Didn’t your stepmom file for divorce?”

Sean’s eyes travel to the center of the room and fall on Piper, who’s now swaying her hips seductively. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Maeve’s hand slips over his shoulder and the sudden change in his demeanor to doting boyfriend is impressive. Good acting skills. But I don’t like how he looked at my Rosy. My guts churn with trepidation.

No one approaches her the rest of the night, though.

I make sure of it.

The next week, on a cold January morning, I stop by Rainy Day to grab a coffee. Piper’s not there. In fact, I think she gave up coming in after the incident, which may be a good thing.

As I scan the store, I recognize Dennis Harrison entering behind me, and my neck tightens, wondering what he’ll say to me. I just don’t want to have an awkward conversation of,“Thanks for trying to save my dead wife.”What do you say to that?

Oddly, when his brown eyes pass over my figure, there’s no recognition behind them. After a few minutes, I shuffle forward to order my drink and meet his gaze again, but there’s still nothing. Part of me is disappointed. The other…is suspicious. How does one not remember that event in every detail? Know the guy who worked on your wife’s chest for several minutes?

When I get my order, I stand back and pull out my phone. “Hey, Tate? Yeah. I’m going to be a bit late today. Can you hold down things there?”

Tate’s heavy sigh makes me pause. “Yeah, of course. But, uh… Eli didn’t show up this morning.”

I grimace, thinking about my younger brother. I’ve been trying to ignore the patterns, but he seems to be slipping back into his old ways. That’s something for another day.

Right now, I need to tail Professor Harrison.

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