A Stranger on the Beach(45)



“The Red Anchor.”

“Oh, I’ve been there.”

“Yeah, it’s halfway decent, and it was open. I had to get out of the house or I’d go crazy.”

“Wait a minute, are you talking about that guy, blondish hair, built, looks like Brad Pitt?”

“Brad Pitt? Really? I don’t see that.”

“Come on. They’re like twins. He’s freaking gorgeous. You didn’t—?”

“I did. I was drunk off my ass. It was a one-night stand. And I regret it terribly.”

Lynn threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, my God. I didn’t know you had it in you. Seriously. How was it?”

“How was it? It was a huge mistake.”

“Uh, hello, that’s not what I’m asking.”

I leaned forward. “I know what you’re asking, but this isn’t funny,” I said. “It’s not some schoolgirl prank. It’s a nightmare. We did it once. I told him goodbye, and now he won’t leave me alone. He’s been following me.”

She sobered instantly. “Is he blackmailing you?”

“No.”

“How much does he want?”

“I said no. It’s not about money.”

“What then?”

“He’s, like, obsessed with me.”

“That hot bartender—obsessed with you?”

“Yes.”

“No, really.”

“Is that so implausible?” I said, huffily.

“I mean, you’re a beautiful woman, Car. But aren’t you like twenty years older than him?”

“More like fifteen. Look, I agree, it’s weird. It’s freaking me out. The first time I tried to get rid of him, he slammed his head against the dashboard of my car till it was bloody.”

“Holy shit, really? Is something wrong with him?”

“I don’t know. But that’s not all. Then he starts turning up in the city. Telling me he can’t live without me. After a one-night stand, can you believe it? I thought it would be a big nothing to a guy like that.”

“What did you say when he showed up?”

“I told him to stay away from me, or I’d go to the police.”

“Good for you. And did he? Stay away?”

“No. I’ve seen him a bunch of times since then. He follows me, always at a distance.”

“That’s so creepy.”

“I know.”

“You should go to the police.”

“Here’s the thing. I did, after the spin class. And they told me unless he hurts me or threatens me with a weapon, it’s not a crime, and there’s nothing they can do.”

Lynn put her fork down. I could tell she believed me now.

“I’m worried about Hannah,” she said.

“Hannah? Why? It’s me you should worry about.”

“If this guy is a psycho, how do you know he won’t go after your daughter?”

“Because this has nothing to do with her,” I said, and sighed with irritation. “I swear, you’re obsessed with Hannah.”

“Somebody needs to be. You don’t think enough about how your actions affect other people.”

“Thank you for your concern. But I can take care of my own daughter,” I said, coldly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Well, she had. Lynn didn’t have kids of her own, so she’d glommed on to my daughter. The two of them were thick as thieves. Despite everything I did for Hannah, not only did she prefer her father to me, she preferred her aunt. Kids act out against the parent who provides the tough love. I understood that, but it still hurt my feelings. I resented their tight bond, and I didn’t need Lynn acting like she knew what was good for Hannah better than I did. But Lynn couldn’t let it go.

“It’s just—” she said.

“What?”

“How do you know he’s not violent?”

I wanted to confide in her. I really did. By making this about Hannah, she’d made it impossible. I couldn’t tell her about the manslaughter without risking having her do something crazy, like telling Hannah about my affair.

“Since I threatened to go to the police, he’s kept his distance. Stop worrying.”

“But you said this guy’s still following you.”

“No. I said he did follow me, but now I think he won’t bother me again.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“Lynn, back off. Let’s talk about something else. Renewing my vows. How to celebrate Hannah’s birthday next month. Visiting you in Florida this winter. I don’t want to think about Aidan Callahan anymore. I’m done with him.”

“I hope he’s done with you, too.”





31


Aidan watched Jason Stark emerge from the office building across the street. Stark was on his phone, and from the way he surveyed the traffic, he was waiting for a ride. Aidan got anxious when he had to follow by vehicle. On foot, he could blend into the crowd. But his old red pickup with its rusted-out, banged-up passenger door stood out too much among the sleek black SUVs and grimy yellow cabs that made up the bulk of Manhattan traffic. He had no choice if he wanted to follow the guy, though, and he’d better move it. Heart racing, Aidan turned the corner and sprinted to where he’d parked his truck. Shit. He grabbed the parking ticket off the windshield. Sixty bucks for blocking the alley by a few frigging inches. Sixty bucks he couldn’t spare.

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