Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN FOLLOWING HERWarren’s house smelled exactly the same.
Coffee.
Old books.
Cedar.
Nora stood in the entryway at one in the morning and hated that familiarity could hurt.
Her photograph was still on the wall.
Graduation.
Twenty-two years old.
Warren carrying her backpack because she had broken a heel.
She looked away.
“You can have the upstairs bedroom.”
“I know where it is.”
Warren nodded.
Of course she did.
Three years did not erase twenty-nine before them.
Nora remained downstairs.
“I need to tell you something.”
Warren waited.
“I’ve seen Derek before.”
“You said that.”
“More than twice.”
His expression sharpened.
“How many?”
“Three. Maybe four.”
“When did you first notice?”
“Eight days ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell Ethan?”
“I did.”
Warren looked surprised.
“What did he say?”
“That Washington is full of men in navy coats.”
“You described Derek?”
“No.”
“So Ethan didn’t know which man.”
“No.”
Warren leaned against the counter.
“Then why didn’t you contact police?”
“What was I supposed to say? A man was at two public places?”
“Three.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
Warren’s jaw tightened.
Nora saw the old reaction.
Investigator mode.
She hated it.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Look at me like I’m evidence.”
His face softened.
“I’m listening.”
She breathed.
“At first I thought I was imagining it.”
“Why?”
Nora laughed bitterly.
“Because everybody kept suggesting I was.”
“Everybody?”
“Ethan. Celeste.”
Warren waited.
“She’s been making comments for months.”
“What kind?”
“That I’m anxious.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
Honest.
“I have migraines. Work has been stressful. Ethan and I have been fighting.”
“About?”
“The foundation.”
Warren looked up.
“What about it?”
Nora shook her head.
“Later.”
He accepted that.
A change.
The old Warren would have pressed.
Nora noticed.
She continued.
“Last Tuesday Derek was outside my office. Thursday at the pharmacy. Saturday at the coffee shop.”
“Same clothes?”
“No.”
“Same car?”
“I saw a gray sedan twice.”
“Plate?”
“No.”
Warren nodded slowly.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated.
“I got an email.”
“What email?”
“Anonymous.”
She pulled out her phone.
The message remained.
STOP DIGGING INTO THINGS THAT AREN’T YOUR BUSINESS.
Warren read it twice.
“When?”
“Monday.”
“You told Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He thought it was spam.”
Warren handed the phone back.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Nora looked at him.
There it was.
Not anger.
Pain.
She answered honestly.
“Because if I called you, you’d do exactly what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“Taking over.”
Warren looked down.
Nora continued.
“I needed my husband to believe me.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“I needed Ethan.”
Warren absorbed that.
Then said:
“And he didn’t.”
Nora’s eyes filled.
“No.”
Silence.
Warren moved toward the coffee machine.
“Tea?”
She almost laughed.
“At one in the morning?”
“You used to drink chamomile when you couldn’t sleep.”
“You remember.”
He looked at her.
“I remember everything.”
That made the distance between them hurt more.
Nora sat.
Warren began boiling water.
For once, he did not promise to solve anything.
He only said:
“Tomorrow we figure out what you want to do.”
Not what he would do.
What she wanted.
Nora watched him.
Perhaps people could change.
May you like
Perhaps husbands could too.
She was no longer sure which possibility frightened her more.
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