Page 87 of Our Little Secret

What else could she find in Neal’s files?

Possibly information from the tracker on her car? She glanced up at the door, half open, feeling like a criminal, but she scrolled up and found a file markedClayton Electronics. She opened the file, and there was information on the WCTracker Series 6.

She clicked on the file but was sent to a link that included the listing of a serial number that she thought probably matched the bug that had been placed in her car. The file had options, including one markedHistory. Probably a history of every damned place she’d been in her car for months.

Sweat collected between her shoulder blades and she heard muffled little yips coming from the kitchen: Shep having one of his doggy dreams.

She stared at the screen, her throat dry.

Neal knew.

He had to know.

Unless he’d never been to the site, never bothered to set up a password, never checked on the Explorer’s whereabouts.

Yeah sure. What were the chances of that?

Slim and none and wishful thinking.

Maybe it was just time to come clean.

Her marriage would be over.

Marilee would have nothing to do with her.

Her life as she knew it would be destroyed and—

She stopped that runaway train of thought.

If he had been checking up on her, why had he never asked her about where she’d been? When her car was parked at the marina when she’d claimed to be at job interviews or running errands? Did he know? Did he not? Her stomach twisted. After several attempts to break into the log she gave up and was about to close down the computer to continue to check the house when she saw the file markedJA.

Jennifer Adkins.

Jesus.

She clicked on the file.

Sure enough, there were documents inside.

Biting her lip, her nerves strung so tight they ached, she opened the first.

A divorce decree.

For Jennifer and her husband, dated and signed three months earlier, during the time when Neal and she were separated.

She was about to open the next document when she heard the creak of a door opening and footsteps overhead again.

She froze for half a beat.

Then quickly closed the file.

The footsteps were heading for the stairs.

Damn!

She shut the computer and silently prayed that the screen was returning to its normal default.

A step groaned as someone headed downstairs.

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