214 Palmer Street(33)

Clarice shook her head and Kirk said, “No, I think we’re good. Thanks.”

A moment or two later, Clarice reached over and took a fry off his plate, then dipped it into the cup of ranch dressing. Taking a bite, she said, “Yum, you’re right.” She nodded in approval. “It is better this way.”

“So what do you think, Clarice? Can we part ways?”

Her eyes narrowed. “How’s the investigation going?”

Her question caught him off guard. “What investigation?”

“Silly man!” Her tone was flirtatious. “You say Sarah is your everything, and yet you’ve already forgotten that she was attacked? And nearly killed, from the sounds of it. Have they found the man who did it?”

He shook his head. “No. They haven’t found a suspect, but they’re still working on it. Clarice, would you mind answering the question? I want to know if I can count on your discretion going forward. I’m asking that you please stop texting and calling me, and please promise you won’t say anything to Sarah. This is important to me. I’m begging you!”

“Begging? I like the sound of that.” She laughed. “Say it again, Kirk.”

He set his napkin next to his plate. “I can see this isn’t going anywhere.”

“I have a thought,” she said. “How about you lend me ten thousand dollars and I promise not to tell Sarah about that night at the hotel?”

“You’re blackmailing me?”

“It’s not blackmail. Just a loan between old friends.”

“Why would you need a loan? I thought you were rich. Didn’t you inherit some old fart’s money?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I did inherit his estate, but between the attorney’s fees and everything else, it wasn’t enough for a lifetime. I have to live, you know.”

Kirk stared at her incredulously. “I’m not lending you money. Ever.”

“So you don’t mind your wife knowing about us?”

“There’s no ‘us.’” He crossed his arms. “And might I remind you that I have the goods on you too?”

The waitress paused by their table. “How’s your lunch?”

Kirk glanced down at his untouched plate. “Delicious, thank you.”

“Everything’s fine,” Clarice said.

Watching the waitress walk away, Kirk came to a resolution. He was weary. Tired of worrying. Exhausted by Clarice. Ultimately, he wanted to live his life without fear and in order to do that he had to be prepared for the worst.

Meeting her eyes, he said, “I asked you nicely, Clarice, hoping that you’d be reasonable and leave me be, but I can see that’s not going to happen. I’m drawing the line right here and now. I’ll be blocking you, and if I have to take out a restraining order I’ll be doing that as well. Leave. Me. Alone.” He got out his wallet and threw a handful of bills on the table before getting up and striding away.

After a few steps, he heard Clarice cry out, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Kirk Aden. I’ll tell Sarah.” Her voice was loud and triumphant. Conversation in the restaurant stopped and heads swiveled in her direction. Damn Clarice, always having to be the center of attention.

He stopped, spun around and said, “Go ahead. Do it.” Turning back, he was shocked to see a familiar face, a man sitting at the counter, staring right at him. His mind shuffled through memories until he realized the guy’s identity. It was Phil. Sarah’s annoying physical therapist. Kirk quickened his pace, going around two women who were walking ahead of him, and darting out the front door of the building. Outside he felt a sense of having escaped, but for how long?

Sitting in his car he had a full view of the restaurant. Through the windows running the length of the building he clearly saw Clarice sitting exactly where he’d left her, calmly eating her salad. Nothing seemed to faze the woman. He scanned the rest of the room, noticing that almost everyone had returned to eating and talking to their companions.

All but one.

Phil was staring at Clarice. As Kirk watched, he lifted his phone and aimed it in her direction. As Clarice took a sip of her soft drink, Phil had her in his sights. Kirk could almost hear the click, click, click of photos being taken.

From there Kirk’s imagination went a step further, envisioning Phil showing the pictures to Sarah and telling her what he’d heard. He could only imagine what her reaction would be. Kirk rested his head against the steering wheel and hit the dashboard with the palm of his hand.

Damn. Could his life get any worse? He didn’t think so.





TWENTY





A few months into her recovery, Sarah made the decision to visit the town hall. Spending so much time alone had given her time to think, and she’d found herself ruminating on the conversation with her mother-in-law and the follow-up discussion with Kirk. He’d lied to her. Why? She couldn’t ignore her mounting suspicions. She had to know more.

She and Phil had begun to meet weekly for coffee, something she didn’t share with Kirk. He certainly wouldn’t have objected to the friendship, but he’d never hidden his dislike of Phil, something she didn’t understand. Over the course of the last few weeks, she’d come to value Phil’s opinions. He wasn’t connected to her life and so he had some distance and could see things more clearly.