Page 138 of The Woman Left Behind

“Listen, okay, this is gonna be weird,” Trey began. “I didn’t want to get into it with you yesterday, for obvious reasons, but Friday, Jenna got a call at the store. It was from Willie.”

Fucking shit.

“Yeah?” Harry prompted.

“Lillian’s ex. Like, way ex,” Trey informed him.

“I know,” Harry said.

“He wanted to order flowers sent to Lill, and he told Jenna to pick whatever she thought Lill would like from her shop and make a basket or something. Budget five hundred bucks. Jenna told him that wasn’t appropriate, but he insisted. Said he’d call someone else to send her something if Jenna didn’t do it, but he knew Lillian would prefer Jenna got the business. She took the order but decided not to fill it. Or, she’s going to, but she’s going to send it to the old folks’ home and make someone’s day there, because she knows Lill wouldn’t be a big fan of Willie horning in right now. That said, she also could send it, just anonymously, and when it’s a better time, tell Lill it was from Willie.”

Harry had little doubt Rita called her son and told him to lay off.

And Harry didn’t like what it said when a son who’d toed the line his entire life kept stepping over it in very visible ways.

Especially now, when he was imposing himself on Lillian’s life in a manner that Harry, the man in it, felt like he was staking some kind of claim in order to make some kind of unwelcome comeback.

“I can’t tell Jenna how to run her business,” Harry told him. “But I can confirm something you both know, this gesture would not be welcome by Lillian, now or in the future, anonymously or not.”

“Yeah,” Trey muttered.

“How did he pay for it?” Harry asked.

“Credit card.”

Harry turned to watch Wade rolling up in his cruiser.

“He’s got three warrants out for him in Fret County, Trey,” Harry said. “I’d appreciate getting the credit card number.”

“I’ll text it to you.”

“Obliged.”

“We’ll figure it out on this end, Harry. But you saying what we’re thinking, Jenna can just refund him in a few days. If he gets shitty, he can talk to me.”

Trey was no joke. He came off as a lovable teddy bear, but everyone knew you didn’t poke a bear.

“Great, Trey. And thanks for calling.”

“No problem.”

By this time, Wade was walking to him, his eyes on the house.

“Karl Abernathy,” Harry told him when Wade stopped at his side.

“Fucker,” Wade said in an undertone.

It was more than that.

A lot more than that.

Harry snapped a photo then opened up his text string to Rus.

Hate to interrupt your Sunday, but this happened. Got Abernathy on video doing it. Face obscured, but it’s him.

He sent the photo.

Then he saved the video and sent that.

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