‘Hi,’ the younger man says, looking up. ‘How can I help you?’
Ted feels embarrassed to be here. He’s not the kind of person to have this kind of problem; he doesn’t want to be here. But he’s not going to give his real name, and he doubts he’ll ever be back. ‘I don’t know much about technology,’ he confesses.
‘Then you’ve come to the right place,’ the young man says, grinning.
It makes him feel somewhat better. He swallows nervously. ‘I got a text from a number I don’t recognize,’ he says carefully. ‘I don’t want to engage. But I want to know if there’s any way to trace the number.’
‘Ah. I see this a lot,’ the young man says, ‘more all the time. And the short answer is no, at least not without law enforcement getting involved. And even then, it’s really difficult and they probably won’t do it.’
‘Fuck,’ Ted says.
‘I know,’ the younger man says. ‘There’s lots of ways of sending anonymous texts. People use apps like Hushed, Burner, or Signal. And there are websites you can use like SMS Gang, Anonymous Text, and so on. Or you can use an actual burner phone that comes with its own number.’
Ted says, feeling a bit foolish, ‘I tried Reverse Phone Lookup, but I didn’t find anything.’
The younger man shakes his head. ‘Like I said, they probably either used one of the apps or websites to hide behind, or an actual burner phone.’ He shrugs. ‘Sorry.Lotsof harassment going on these days. You’re not alone.’
Ted feels his heart sink. ‘Thanks for your help. How much do I owe you?’
‘For that? Nothing. If I were you, I’d change my number and keep it very private.’
Ted returns home, frustrated, where Jill is anxiously waiting for him. ‘All you have to do is use an app or buy a cheap burner phone and you can send threatening messages to whoever you want and get away with it,’ he complains to her. He feels angry and powerless.
‘So what are we supposed to do?’ she asks.
He doesn’t like how scared she sounds. ‘I have to change my phone number and not share it with anybody. I’ll take care of it.’
He hopes that will be the end of it.
The day of the memorial arrives a couple of weeks later. It’s a Tuesday in mid-November, and the weather is grey, windy and wet. When Jill looks out the window of their bedroom at the sky it reminds her of that day on the boat. She quickly looks away.
She dresses carefully for the event. It is being held at the StRegis in Midtown. There will be plenty of refreshments there; they won’t be inviting a crowd back here to the house afterward to talk about Greg. They just want this to be over with.
She glances at Ted, getting ready. His best black suit, onyx cufflinks, the lot.
‘I’ve never liked this kind of thing,’ he tells her.
‘I know,’ she answers.
They haven’t had any more disturbing texts since Ted changed his number. He has kept his new number very private. Only she knows it, and Ted’s attorneys. She and Ted have discussed how he might slowly give his new number out and see if the texts start up again. They would like to discover the identity of thetexter without involving the police. But mostly they hope that whoever it was has had their fun and has simply given up and gone away.
Jill’s putting on lipstick in front of the bathroom mirror when her cell phone on the vanity pings. She glances down carelessly. Freezes.
MURDERERS
She screams.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
TED WRAPS HISarms around Jill and holds her to his chest, feels her trembling against him.Fuck, he’s thinking.Fuck, fuck, fuck.He can feel his heart pounding. This is getting out of hand. It’s harassment. Should they go to the police? But he is reluctant to do that. He’d rather handle this on his own. He feels so sure it’s John Burnley– perhaps he should seek him out and make him stop.
But first, they have to go to the memorial, and it’s time to leave. He talks to her soothingly, stroking her hair, kissing the top of her head while he holds her. ‘It’s okay, Jill. Whoever this is can’t hurt us. You know that, right? It’s okay. I’ll get to the bottom of it, and I’ll make them stop.’ She looks up at him. ‘Don’t let it get to you,’ he says.
He releases her and watches as she pulls herself together, finishes putting on her lipstick. Her hand applying the lipstick is trembling. She keeps glancing down at her phone on the vanity. He picks up her phone and turns it off.
They arrive at the hotel a little earlier than everyone else. They want to make sure everything is properly set up, and they must be here to greet people as they arrive, to thank them for coming to celebrate Greg’s life. Soon enough the room begins to fill. Ted and Jill stand at the entrance, together, and speak to Greg’s friends and acquaintances, the people he worked with, the people he knew socially. Jill, Ted is relieved to see, has recovered from the shock of the latest text, and appears poised and comfortable.
For Ted, it’s an ordeal. There is a large turnout, which makes Ted feel rather sour and exhausted. It also doesn’t help to have to listen to everyone say what a great man his brother was, to have to mumble assent.Yes, yes he was. To hear them list all his positive qualities. What a smart guy he was, such a talented businessman. What a sportsman. Such an accomplished person. Just once he’d like someone to mention what an asshole Greg was. How willingly he could throw someone under the bus. But no one is going to do that at Greg’s memorial. This is what he’s thinking when he sees John Burnley coming toward them. His stomach lurches.What the fuck is he doing here?
