“They could have used a masked phone number. You use your own phone but it, like, goes through a proxy number. That’s impossible to trace... Unless they used a service to get apermanentproxy number. If this individual was up to shady shit on multiple fronts, maybe they still have that number, youknow? Here... Lemme see the texts.” Doug reached out his hand. “Please tell me you haven’t deleted them.”
“They’re five years old at this point, so...” said Bennett, unlocking his phone and passing it to Doug.
“Give me a key word. Something to look for. What did the first text say?” He thumbed open Bennett’s messages and popped the cursor into the search bar.
Bennett hung his head. He ran his hands through his hair. “Olivia cheated on you? Something like that.”
Doug typedcheated. Bada bing, bada boom. He read silently. Phelps moved so he could read over Doug’s shoulder.
Anonymous:Thought you’d want to know... Olivia cheated on you with Phelps.
Bennett:WTF? Who is this?
Anonymous:Someone who cares
Bennett:How do you know?
Anonymous:I saw them together
Bennett:Could there have been some mistake?? Also who is this? I’d prefer to actually talk.
Anonymous:I know what I saw. There was no mistake.
Bennett:Either say who you are or stop contacting me
Anonymous:I’d want to know if it was me. Just trying to do the right thing??????
“It was a chick,” said Doug, passing the phone back.
“Why?” said Bennett.
“The shrugging emoji. If you wanted to disguise youridentity, you’d use the opposite gender. Also, the grammar is too on point for it to be a dude.”
“Which means it was Hellie or Jenn,” said Bennett.
“There were more people at that party,” corrected Phelps. “Remember? Kylie stopped by to pick up the boys. She lingered for a drink. Then Ted stopped by with those two girls... What were their names?”
“The figure skating teacher from Chicago!” said Doug, clapping his hands together once. She was cute. “Candy? Carly? And—”
“Priscilla,” Phelps completed. “The—”
“Flight attendant,” said Doug. How in the hell did Ted Kristos get chicks of that caliber to go out with him? Then again, how had Phelps gottenAllie?
“They didn’t even know us,” said Bennett. “They wouldn’t care.”
“Well, it wasn’t Hellie,” said Doug. Under her girlish look, his wife had balls of steel. A surge of affection washed over Doug. “She would’ve signed her fucking name. She would have been like, yo, this is Hellie, guess what I saw? Naw, man... This reeks of Jenn.”
The woman responsible for two new holes in his body. It figured.
“How do I find out for sure?” said Bennett, furrowing his brow and looking at his phone.
“Why do you need to know for sure?” said Phelps. “Who cares at this point?”
“It’s not complicated,” said Doug. “Text this number back when we’re all together. If it’s a masked phone number, you’re obviously fucked... but if it’s a permanent proxy? You’re in luck. See if her phone dings. Long shot, fine. But it’s your only shot. Unless you can torture her into a confession...” This was a mildly amusing thought. What kind of Facebook postcould Jenn make out of that?So blessed to have come through this trial by fire...
“Okay, Sherlock is earning himself some points,” said Phelps.
Doug shrugged. His knees were starting to hurt so he sat down on the coffee table without thinking. Pain.