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LILA STARED AT THE NEW NOTE.
YOU’VE BEEN VERY NAUGHTY.
She found this one slipped under the wiper on her windshield this morning. Almost missed it until she put the car in reverse and started moving down the driveway. The paper flapped in the breeze and she slammed on the brakes.
Same as last time, it was typed on a white unlined index card. Blank back and no other words or writing on it. Nothing to give away the identity of its creator but the kind of paper that could be found in a school supply closet. A full sentence with a period, like a teacher or principal might write.
The tone was taunting but in a weird, somewhat playful kind of way. Condescending, which reminded her of Aaron, but the rest didn’t sound like him. But since he should be dead, she had no idea what the sentence structure meant, if anything.
She sat in the driver’s seat now and stared at the black ink.Turned the thick piece of paper over in her hands and tried to figure out her next move. If Aaron drafted it, it was only a matter of time before he sprang a trap on her or broke into the house and attacked or had her arrested.
If her new stalker was someone else, she expected some sort of blackmail request. Some end to this game. But with her luck, the one person who knew her secret valued creating chaos over getting cash.
Her mind drifted back to those damn videos. It tried to inch back further, to their years in North Carolina. She’d spent an hour last night wondering why they’d really had to move during the school year. Wondering what games Aaron had played with his students there.
“These are ugly and really thick,” the pretty blonde said as she tugged on the bedroom curtain. “Weird since your wife always looks so nice.”
“Let’s not talk about her.”
The young girl smiled as she got up on her knees in the middle of the bed and started to undo the buttons on her shirt. “We can talk about the things I can do for you that she can’t.”
“Crawl over here and show me what you learned from watching that video link I sent you.”
Lila closed her eyes, but the image refused to vanish.
Aaron had used their house to have sex with students. The bastard filmed this girl stripping down and talking about how he liked to take her on her hands and knees.
He insisted the video was just a joke. As if she didn’t know his voice, her own bedroom, or how he liked to have sex.
Fucking asshole.
A horn sounded behind her, and she got pulled right back to the present. She also dropped the card.
“Shit.”
She looked in her rearview mirror and motioned for the car to pass her. With one hand balanced on the wheel and the other on the front seat cushion, she felt around under the seat and mat trying to locate the newest threat. The last thing she needed was someone seeing it.
She sat up and bit back a scream when a shadow moved outside the driver’s window. A body. Male. He caught her off guard. So did the tapping against the glass and his motion for her to lower it.
The jumpiness moved into her chest. She prided herself on being unshakable, on being able to crush any emotion and not let fear or pain show. Ever since Aaron’s stupid car unexpectedly disappeared, she’d lost that gift. Now her mind bounced from thought to thought, and the perpetual shakiness in her hands seemed like it could be permanent.
She crushed the card in her palm and felt the rigid corner dig into her skin as she smiled up at the man in uniform. “Yes, sir?”
He barely spared her a glance as he gestured with what looked like a flashlight to tell other cars to pass them. Then he looked down, scanning her face and the inside of the car in one swoop. “You can’t park here.”
Airport security.
She glanced up at the sign next to the curb. Saw a few people exit the double glass doors, loaded down with luggage. “I’ll only be a few—”
“Move or I’ll tow you.” The security guard issued his command and headed for the car behind her.
The vehicles sat with engines running, all lined up near the front doors of Ithaca Tompkins International Airport. She could fly direct to exactly four cities, and none of them was outside of the United States, so she didn’t get the “international” part. But right now she needed quick access, so the name didn’t much matter.
A missing husband. Threatening notes. A detective of some sort shadowing her.
She’d ignored Ginny’s calls and the not-so-subtle suggestion she be home when Ginny got there to question her this morning. Traffic didn’t matter. The weather didn’t matter. Even that damn note scraping the skin off her hand didn’t matter.
This was where she needed to be, waiting for the one person she trusted to help her.
