“Thought you might call,” he says, his voice slightly distorted by poor reception. “I’m in the middle of nowhere, West Virginia. Signal’s shit.”
“You still following her?” I ask, though I already know the answer. Cainen doesn’t do anything halfway.
“We’re heading to Texas next,” he says. “She’s camping at some state park tonight. Set up her little trailer rightby a lake. She posted some pictures to her personal social media. She definitely doesn’t know that the wrong people can still see them.”
I can hear the possessiveness in his voice when he talks about Maeve. It mirrors something in me, something I recognize but don’t bother to analyze. We’re cut from the same cloth, Cainen and I.
“Eli’s car has been stationary for almost a day,” I tell him, getting to the point. “He told Lila he’s at GameStream headquarters for meetings.”
“And we both know that’s bullshit,” Cainen finishes for me.
“The car’s in a private garage registered to a ghost. He’s with someone, the same pattern as before. Goes away for a few days, comes back like nothing happened.”
There’s silence on the line for a moment, just the sound of wind whipping past Cainen’s microphone.
“You sure you’re not biased because he’s Lila’s husband?” Cainen finally asks. It’s a fair question. One I’ve asked myself.
“I trust my gut,” I reply, watching a heron glide low over the bay water outside my window. “Something isn’t right with him. Dillian’s investigation confirmed the escort last time. The patterns match. He’s cheating on her.”
“Definitely,” Cainen repeats, and I know he’s thinking what I’m thinking. Men who control and abuse their wives rarely stop at infidelity. “And you’re sure about the GameStream angle? No chance he could actually be there on legitimate business with another streamer?”
“I own the fucking company,” I remind him. “There are no executive meetings scheduled. He’s lying to her, and not even bothering to make it convincing.”
Cainen makes a sound of understanding. If anyone gets this, it’s him. His obsession with Maeve mirrors my fixation on Lila, though our methods differ. Where he’s chosen to follow his target across state lines, I’ve opted to dismantle the threat to mine.
“The Masquerade Halloween party is in two days,” I say, thinking out loud. “Based on his previous patterns, he won’t be back for at least three days. Gives me time to do some more digging.”
“You still planning to approach her at the party?” Cainen asks.
“Yes.”
“Be careful,” he warns, but there’s no judgment in his voice. “These things can get complicated fast.”
“Says the man stalking a woman in a camper across the country,” I reply dryly.
He laughs, a short, sharp sound. “Touché. At least I know what I am.”
“So do I,” I assure him.
“Did Dillian find anything on Micheal Vanderburg?” Cainen asks.
“No, actually. Only some small stuff. Possession of marijuana. These guys cover their tracks.”
“That’s surprising, since he was such an idiot in person. He must have someone else higher up.”
“We’ve got eyes on that forum now, thanks to you. It’s been a while since he went missing and no one has come forward.”
He lets out a sigh of relief. He’s never killed anyone before. Since he’d decided to take this guy out, he had to have seen more than just what was on his phone in Micheal’s eyes.
After we hang up, I turn back to the bay window. The water is calm today, deceptively peaceful. I check the tracker app one more time. Still no movement. Eli is where he wants to be, with who he wants to be with, telling whatever lies makes his life easier.
I set my phone down and move to my desk, opening my laptop to the security footage from outside Lila’s house. The cameras Eli placed outside angles a the deck give me perfect visibility of her favorite places to sit outside. I watch as she emerges onto the porch with a book in her hand, another romance novel, from the look of the cover. She settles into a chair facing the ocean with a warm blanket, pulls her knees up to her chest, and begins to read.
Even from here, I can see the relief in her posture. Eli is gone, and she can breathe again. For now.
20
Lila
