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He walks to the driver’s side as the guy opens the passenger door for me.
“I can’t just leave Glenn here without telling him…”
“Glenn Reynolds from high school? Loser.” Patrick pulls out his wallet and tosses it to the guy. “Cut him a check for whatever he paid for her.” He points to the passenger seat. “Get in, Evelyn. Or you’ll fuck up the next five years of Dylan’s life. Can you live with that? It hasn’t been all that easy for me.”
***
18
Walls, Watchtowers, & Moats
WALLS, WATCHTOWERS, & MOATS
And just like that I’m back in Chicago. I’m depressed. I’m a mess. And this time I’m one hundred percent sure all these feelings belong to me. Victoria picks me up and drags me to Amelia’s place for pizza and a movie.
“The cops I talked to said you should keep all the letters for safe keeping,” Amelia says sprawled on the couch aiming the remote at the flatscreen TV on the wall. “Lock your doors and windows. Keep the blinds closed at night. You can contact them if anything concerns you. They said cyber stalking is pretty common these days and usually nothing comes of it.”
“It’s not just cyber stalking,” Victoria says. “He mailed letters to her physical address.”
“I told the cops that but they said these days it usually starts online,” Amelia says. “And oh, check the shadows around your entrance. Be aware of your surroundings.”
“Terrific,” I say, lying on a love seat. I blow my nose, tossing the used tissue into a wastebasket. “Maybe it’s Madame Germaine. She’s a horrible person.”
“Madam’s a shitty person,” Amelia says “Setting you up with that asshole when she knew you were with another guy was unforgivable. But I doubt she’s your ‘Fan.’”
Victoria passes me a beer. “A cold, shitty, horrible person. I don’t think she’s your fan, either.”
“Maybe Madame didn’t know that Glenn and Dylan had history?” I ask. “Maybe it was just an innocent mistake on her part.”
“Please,” Victoria says. “She vetted him. She knew he was a high stakes gambler. She’d have to be a dumbass not to know they played in the same circles. Wedding date my ass.”
“I’m sorry, Evie,” Amelia says tipping back a beer.
“Madame pulled something horrible on me, too,” Victoria says.
“What?” I ask.
“I’d been at Ma Maison for about five months, and met this guy I really liked. I was thinking about quitting.”
“I remember that,” Amelia says flipping through movie channels.
“What happened?” I asked.
“A ‘little bird’ told Scott’s wife he was seeing someone. Out of nowhere he takes a job in Denver, up and moved the next week. I called. Texted. He ghosted me. Broke my heart into a million pieces.”
“That sucks,” I say Just a few weeks ago I hated this girl and now I like her. Life can turn on a dime.
“Sucks hard,” Victoria says, grabbing a tissue from the box and blowing her nose. “Different movie please. I cannot watch Titanic tonight.”
“If I see Jack die one more time I’ll put a fork in someone’s eye,” I say.
“Fine,” Amelia grumbles.
“Did you ever get a hold of Scott?” I ask.
“Two months later,” Victoria says. “He talked cryptically like he was being secretly recorded. He said someone using the Agency’s email had contacted his wife and sent photos of dates that we’d been on.”
“Ugh. Did you ever figure out who?” I ask.
