The last two weeks have been challenging, watching her leave to take Ethan to school, then return in the evenings. Since the day I moved in, I can't remember one day where I wasn't out in my yard watching her or over at her house for some reason. Now I hide in my garage watching her from a distance, and I’ve noticed her nightly cup of tea on the back porch has changed too. She doesn't do that anymore.
But observing her at a distance has helped me track her movement better, and though her car isn't home, I know today is her day off work. She must be at the salon or out grocery shopping, which is why I’m on the way to the boutique. WhenI was there before, I didn't get the full picture. I didn't ask the right questions to help me really find out what's going on. I just asked what Derek wanted me to ask—and I never realized how damning those questions would be to Olivia.
Today, I came to do the right thing and to ask the right questions. I want to know who sent those reports and why, and this time, I'm planning to be nothing but honest. I walk into the little boutique and scan the clothing racks to make sure I'm right and Olivia isn't here before I turn to the front. Helen stands behind the counter sorting through a stack of invoices with her reading glasses low on her nose. She looks up when I walk in and her expression shifts from polite to cautious in about half a second.
"Mr. Ward. I wasn't expecting to see you again." When I left this place last time, it was under the misguided notion that my only interest was building my business. I was wrong for purposefully deceiving Helen and I feel bad about that.
"I know, and I'm sorry to bother you." I walk to the counter and stop a respectful distance back. "I need to talk to you about those phone calls you mentioned last time. The anonymous complaints about Mrs. Bennett."
Helen sets her pen down and folds her hands on the counter. "I told you what I know. Someone called twice, said she was unstable, and I didn't take it seriously because it didn't match the woman I see every day." She looks at me curiously as she cocks her head, and I see her mind searching for answers I haven't given yet.
"I need more detail than that, Helen. I need to know exactly what the caller said… maybe who it was, if you can help me figure that out."
Helen's eyes flick to the door and then down to her stack of invoices. When she looks back up at me, she looks guarded. "Why? You said you were doing security assessments. That felt like a stretch the first time and it feels more like one now." This woman is no pushover, and it's time I come clean.
"You're right, and I owe you a straight answer and I'm sorry." I rest my hands on the counter and meet her eyes. "I am starting a private security firm—that part is true—but I'm also Olivia's neighbor and her friend, and I believe someone's been deliberately harassing her to damage her reputation and her custody arrangement. Those phone calls to your store are part of a pattern, and I need to know what was said so I can help her."
Helen takes her glasses off and sets them on the invoice pile. She crosses her arms and leans back against the shelving unit behind the register, staring at me like she's trying to figure me out. I don't feel like I'm going to get anywhere with her.
"Well, Mr. Ward, Olivia hasn’t said anything to me about?—"
"About her ex-husband trying to take her son away?" I ask, cutting her off, and Helen's expression shifts. She looks worried now, like I've said the magic phrase that will unlock her lips.
"Yes, she mentioned that…" Now I'm getting somewhere.
"If whoever is doing this is working for him, she could lose her son. Now, I care about that woman a lot—though we've had our differences—and I don't want to see her hurt. Please, help me help her by telling me what you know." I try not to use a forceful tone, but I feel on edge. I've come up dry with all the leads I have on Derek, and this is the one thread I haven't picked at yet.
"The first call came about five weeks ago," she says cautiously. "It was a man's voice but he didn't give his name. He saidhe was a concerned member of the community and that he wanted to make the store aware that one of our employees had serious mental health issues. He used the phrase 'abusing prescription sleeping medication' and said Olivia was unstable and potentially unsafe to be around customers." She frowns at the memory, and I understand why. What horrible things to say about someone.
"What did you say to him?" I ask, pulling out my phone to take notes. I type into my Notes app and glance up at her as I do.
"I told him I'd been working with Olivia for four years and I had no concerns about her performance or her behavior, and I asked him to identify himself."
"And he wouldn't?"
"He hung up." She shifts her weight and uncrosses her arms. "The second call came about a week later. Same voice, same number. This time, he went further. He said Olivia had a documented history of mental instability and that the store could be held liable if she had an episode on the job and a customer got hurt. He said he was giving us the opportunity to act before it became a legal matter."
"Same voice both times. You're sure?" Yeah, this sounds exactly like Derek, though without the number, how am I supposed to prove that? And what would a judge say about his calling her place of work to tattle on her depression like a childish nark?
"I'm sure," she says firmly. Then she pulls out a notebook and folds it open, flipping a few pages before she lands on one she wants. She taps the page and says, "I wrote the number down in case this became an issue, though I didn't think at the time itwould." She turns the notebook toward me and points at a line written in blue ink.
I look at the number and recognize it immediately. I've called it dozens of times over the past two months and I've had it memorized since the day Derek hired me. It's his personal cell phone.
"Do you recognize it?" Helen asks, watching my face.
"Yeah." I straighten up and pull my phone out of my pocket and take a photo of the number in her notebook. "I recognize it."
"Whose is it?"
"I think it’s better if I don’t discuss this openly. I would hate for Olivia to find out like this…" I pause and sigh hard. "Can I get a copy of your phone records for those two calls? Dates and times if you have them."
Helen nods and writes down both dates and the approximate times from her notes then tears the page out and hands it to me. "I want to be clear about something, Mr. Ward. Olivia doesn't know about these calls. I never told her because I didn't want to add to whatever she's already dealing with. But if someone's coming after her, she deserves to know."
"She will. I'm going to make sure of that. But I need to put some things together first so when she finds out, she has more than just my word to go on." She's not even going to listen to me, but she may listen to facts. If I can document them in a report and give them to her personally, she might just read it and know what she's up against.
Helen puts her glasses back on and picks up her pen. "Take care of her. She doesn't have enough people in her corner."
"Thank you." I nod at her and walk out of the boutique and cross the parking lot to my truck where I sit and stare at the photo on my phone. Derek didn't just hire me to snoop around her house. He's been running a full campaign against her—the calls to her workplace, the custody motions, the constant confrontations at pickups, and expensive gifts that make her look like the lesser parent in Ethan's eyes. Every piece of it has been coordinated to build a case that she's unfit, and he's been doing it since before I ever moved in next door.
