A Stranger on the Beach(31)

A row of tall bushes along the front of the building gave off a heady smell of wet mulch. Aidan glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody was looking, then ducked behind them. He brushed against the branches, darkening his clothes with the rain, as he made his way to the corner of the building. He could hear the conversation clearly now. Stark was talking about money, all right. He mentioned a number—half a million. That was a lot of cash, more than a guy would spend on a mistress. This had to be something else, something bigger than cheating. Maybe it was what Caroline had alluded to, that her husband was mixed up in criminal activity of some kind. Aidan moved closer, straining to hear more.

“—at the warehouse?” Stark asked, then paused. “I’m not stupid, Galina.… I’m doing what I can, but I told you, she’s giving me a problem.… You have my word. I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.”

Galina. That had to be the Russian woman. Stark said that someone—somebody female—was giving him a problem. Was it Caroline he referred to? The talking stopped abruptly. Had the asshole moved away again? Aidan couldn’t see. He took a step out from behind the bushes, around the side and—

Pain exploded in the side of his head. He was lying on the wet pavement, on his back, seeing stars.

“What the fuck?”

The guy had sucker-punched him. Aidan touched his temple. His fingers came away bloody. Jason Stark stood over him.

“I don’t know who you are or why you’re following me. But stay away from me, or I’ll kill you,” Stark said.

Then he walked away nonchalantly, like nothing had happened.

Fuck that.

This ain’t over, pal. Not hardly.





22


As I walked into the restaurant, I spotted Jason and Hannah at the corner table, their dark heads together, deep in conversation. The sight of them made me stop and catch my breath. How many restaurant dinners had we shared, the three of us, since Hannah was a baby in her carrier? I could still picture her as a little girl, thin and pale, with big brown eyes. What a picky eater she’d been, and then later, what a junk-food junkie. As much of a struggle as it had been to raise her, with Jason gone so much and everything on me, I’d give my right arm to have those days back. I’d loved being a wife, and a mom. Now our little family was shattered.

I had a piece of paper in my handbag that was sure to make everything worse. It would take what Jason had started and make it permanent. I didn’t want to use it, but he’d left me no choice. He’d cheated and lied. He’d drained the bank accounts and left me destitute. Now—if what Hannah told me was right—he was planning to skip town. As much as part of me still loved him, it was time to face facts.

I sighed and started toward them. Jason and Hannah looked up simultaneously, with identical dismayed expressions, and I saw that my first impression of a cozy tête-à-tête had been mistaken. In her first weeks of college, Hannah should be glowing and full of adventure. Instead she looked pale and worried, her skin acting up, her hair stringy. And Jason, beside her, looked haggard, like he’d lost ten pounds in the few days since I’d seen him.

“Caroline.”

“Mom, I said this wasn’t a good idea.”

“I wish I didn’t have to barge in like this, but your father left me no choice. He—”

“Can we please leave Hannah out of this?” Jason said. “She doesn’t need to hear the ugly details.”

“Don’t blame me. Hannah told me you’re planning to leave the country. And you won’t return my calls. Where’s the money, Jason?”

In spite of my best intentions, my voice rose. People were turning to look. A waiter stepped up behind me with a chair. Jason waved him off.

“She’s not staying.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Mom, Dad, please,” Hannah said, red-faced with embarrassment.

She was looking around the restaurant, obviously worried that someone from her school might be in attendance to witness her family drama. I felt terrible that her parents’ problems were hurting her at this important moment in her life. But, come on. I was the victim here. If Jason didn’t put the money back immediately, I’d have to start pawning jewelry in order to eat. Hannah wouldn’t wish that for me.

Jason stood up. “Caroline, come outside. Hannah, your mother and I need to talk.”

Jason took my elbow and steered me toward the exit. My cheeks were burning. I hated scenes, and I never meant to shame my daughter. But I refused to let him mistreat me with impunity. I had my payback planned. Out in the parking lot, I reached into my handbag and pulled out a manila envelope.

“You’ve been served,” I said, and thrust it at his chest.

The lawyer Lynn recommended had done quick work, drafting a divorce complaint and a court order in the space of an hour to stop Jason from stealing any more of my—our—money. It might be too little, too late. What he’d taken, I might never see again. But the divorce papers at least made me feel that I was sticking up for myself. They included every salacious detail I could think of to make Jason look bad. The Russian woman. The lies about his business trips—let his partners suck on that. How he’d left his devoted wife destitute after twenty years of marriage. I’d humiliate him in front of the world, like he’d done to me. It didn’t feel good, but nothing felt good since I’d discovered his betrayal.