Page 37 of Letting Go
Before I can reply, Marcie Claire ignores her question and responds with her own, “What can I do for you, Chloe? I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.”
Shooting me another dirty look, Chloe puts her mask back on as she turns to Marcie Claire. “Yes ma’am. Chase told me you needed your favorite pie plate back by noon today. He was too swamped at the office to drop it off, so I offered to stop by. I already washed it and placed it on the kitchen counter.”
“Oh. Well, that was kind of you. It is one of my favorite ones, but Chase was supposed to drop it off this morning. If he couldn’t make it, he could have returned it when he came to the next family dinner,” Marcie Claire says with a slight tilt of her head. I get the feeling there is some kind of war going on back and forth that I don’t have the context to fully understand. Why would MarcieClaire tell Chase she needed her favorite pie plate by a certain time, but then not care if it wasn’t returned until the next family dinner? I suspect Marcie Claire wanted Chase to drop by while I happened to be here.
“I just didn’t want you to miss it for long, ma’am,” Chloe tells her. “And we both know he would probably forget it when he comes over for dinner.”
“Ah, bless your heart, dear.” Marcie Claire gives her a curt smile but there is no love lost between these two. I’m missing the context of their comments, but I get the feeling Chloe is not included in the weekly family dinners, which is odd because I even attended them occasionally in high school.
“I need to get going and pick up Eloise from school, so I’ll let y’all visit. Thank you for the lovely tea and those delightful madeleines, Marcie Claire.” I’m tempted to run to my car to get out of the line of fire between Chloe and Marcie Claire.
“Oh no, thank you! It was so nice visiting, and I so appreciate your wise counsel, even more than you know. I will follow up with Clark’s firm and let you know if I have any questions, especially now I know I can bribe you with madeleines!” She touches my arm and leans in as though it is some kind of inside joke. Marcie Claire takes it further and gives me a hug before patting my arm. “We will need to do this again sometime. I have missed having you around so much, Vivian. You know I have always adored you, dear.”
Chloe clears her throat and looks madder than a wet hen. Whoops. I wonder how fast I could run in my shoes if I really needed to get away before she explodes. Maybe I could kick them off and book it.
“Yes, ma’am. That sounds good, thank you for your hospitality. Always such a pleasure to see you, Chloe. Have a nice day, ladies,” I say as I pick up my handbag and quickly walk around the porch toward my car. I look back as I walk down the stairs and Chloeis standing in the same spot. She now has her arms crossed and is alternating between glaring at me and shaking her head at Marcie Claire, who is now saying something quietly to Chloe and looks like she has a burr stuck in her saddle.
Yikes, maybe those two shouldn’t be left alone, but I am also thankful they’re not my problem. Clark and Chase have their hands full dealing with those two. My guilty conscience gets the best of me and I send Chase a text after I park at Eloise’s school.
Me
Hey buddy, it’s Vivian. Sorry to do this but wanted to let you know I was having tea with your mama and Chloe showed up. I just left, but those two were not thrilled with each other.
Chase
Hey there Viv … So it’s a day that ends in y?
Me
Oh, so you didn’t need a warning?
Chase
No, that’s how they are, it’s dumb how those two fight. Appreciate the heads up though.
Me
Sorry!!
Chase
It’s not you, it’s them. I don’t get it but those two are oil and water.
Oil and water? Marcie Claire and Chloe are actually quite similar, it might be more accurate to say they are like Sauvignon blanc and Pinot Grigio, not that either of them would admit it. Getting out of my car, I laugh to myself as I suspect Chase and his daddy will need to have every wine option available at their next family get together, if not something much, much stronger to put up with those two. I am thankful I no longer have to dodge Marcie Claire’s tea invitations and hopefully I won’t have to go to a social event with either women for a long time, or even better—ever again.
Chapter seventeen
Walker
The vandalized tires incident was annoyingly too smooth to have been random—especially once we discovered there was no video surveillance of the area where my truck was parked. Four days later, my frustration dramatically increased when Vivian received a third poem. The behavior escalated yet again when a fourth poem arrived at my home address one week after my tires were slashed. It matched the ones Vivian received, including its paper weight and color, font used, and postmark from Atlanta.
While not admitting direct criminal involvement, the sender's poems suggest their actions were intended to benefit Vivian by controlling and persuading her to change. The malicious insinuation creeped her out—rightfully so. Whoever issending these poems officially pissed me off by not only threatening me, but by having the audacity to send it to my home address that is not public knowledge. Reading it, I thought I was going to crack a molar with how hard my jaw clenched. When I finished it, an animalistic roar of rage and frustration escaped my lungs, loud enough I’m sure it spooked a neighbor or two. It is infuriating that this piece of shit is out there, taunting me, and threatening Vivian. It is not a matter of if we will catch whomever is responsible, it’s only a matter of when we do—and I want them caught yesterday.
Liam and Harlow are working on identifying additional people to add to the network of eyes and ears of the town to try to figure out who is keeping tabs on Vivian. Harlow feels the escalation of behavior more than meets the requirement to consider this a stalking situation, but unfortunately, that doesn’t help us identify who is responsible any faster.
We know the person behind the poems is at minimum guilty of being involved with intentional damage to property, harassment, and stalking, if not also involved in at least one capital murder case. The two weeks following the third poem were uneventful, and Vivian didn’t receive any additional ones. Just like the previous poems, the third and fourth lacked any fingerprints or trace DNA on the piece of paper or the envelope. Our task force continues to chase every lead that pops up related to the nine cases involved, but we keep running into dead ends or uncovering more questions we don’t know the answers to yet.
It is incredibly frustrating to spin our wheels in circles without going anywhere. I remind my team that we need to keep putting in good work and something has to eventually give—I refuse to believe otherwise.
