The New Husband(62)

It was Nina’s unwillingness to say yes to Simon’s marriage proposal that Glen now believed had saved his life. Simon wanted a ring on Nina’s finger. He taunted Glen with his plans for marriage, but didn’t seem to trust himself to keep the relationship going without more and more insider information. That was Glen’s job, and he knew that once Nina and Simon were officially engaged, or more likely married, he was as good as dead.

He started to cry. He seldom cried anymore, but Maggie had opened a door in his heart long shuttered. Alive. She had made him feel alive. Human again. And now the worst had happened—in through that open door, Glen allowed hope into his heart.

Hope was a dangerous thing down in the box. Hope didn’t belong here. Hope was a trick of the mind. No matter how hard Glen tried to suppress the feeling, up it sprang, like a blade of grass sprouting from muddy earth. Hope lived inside him now. What to do with it?

Glen’s thoughts were as dark as the room. Simon had taken away his only light—a small battery-powered LED fixture that stuck to the ceiling, bright enough to illuminate the closet-size space. It was punishment for Maggie’s obstinacy. “How dare she call me a serial killer,” he had howled. “She doesn’t understand. But we’ll get her in line, won’t we, Glen?” He had said it in a threatening way. No hidden meaning there.

“It will be hardest on Nina,” Simon had mused. “The grieving, but I’ll be there for her.”

Glen had been made to believe this was all about Nina, for reasons still unknown, so why did Simon care so much about what Maggie thought of him? While motives were scarce, Simon’s reaction had been illuminating. Finally, after all this time, Glen felt he had a critical bit of information, a crack, a sliver, a fingertip-size handhold from which he could hoist himself up and actually do something. Something, yes, but what? Chain. Box. No way out. But now … hope. Think. Think. And then it came to him. One possibility. Like that blade of grass growing a tiny bit taller.

The conversation with his daughter had unwittingly revealed something of Simon’s fractured personality. No doubt the tactics had advanced Simon’s agenda, but the way Maggie spoke of him, her utter contempt, had wounded him deeply. Even though he was intentionally manipulating Maggie, and Nina as well, Simon clearly wanted Maggie to like him. Why? Glen could only speculate, but clearly Simon understood the way to a mother’s heart was through her children.

Naturally, Maggie hearing from her father after all this time would make her act increasingly anxious. A distraught daughter might serve Simon’s purpose in one sense by forcing Nina to leave her job, but it might also create a new set of problems by making Nina rethink her future with Simon as tensions built at home. Knowing his wife the way he did, Glen could see her thinking that this new man, not the new job, was the source of Maggie’s growing distress.

Hope.

Glen thought: What if he promised Simon he could turn Maggie from an adversary into an advocate?

If he could somehow convince Simon to change tactics, make him believe Nina would blame the relationship for Maggie’s distress, that she’d leave him before she’d quit her job, he might find a way out of the box. What Glen really wanted was some reason to get back in touch with Maggie. He needed to send her a message.

NICE GUY.

That was how he and Nina had met—a hidden message Glen had created using bold type in his online dating profile. It had stood out to Nina; so much so that she felt compelled to make contact. If Glen could deliver one more secret message, this time to his daughter, something that would stand out to her as well, maybe, just maybe, he could warn everyone of the terrible danger they were in.





CHAPTER 34


Nina exchanged a flurry of short messages with Hugh, the last of which included her phone number. He had asked for it and she had given it in a moment of pure impulsiveness. Apparently, what he had to say, the reason he felt they had to talk, could not easily be explained over text. Nina checked the time, realizing if she didn’t start the drive home now, she’d arrive later than promised.

She navigated heavy afternoon traffic in the dark of late October, already missing the daylight hours and the leaves on the trees. Her focus vacillated between the road and what on earth Hugh Dolan could possibly tell her. Why was it so important that they speak right away? Obviously, it was about Simon; something negative, she supposed. But what?

When her phone rang, Nina jumped in her seat, startled, even though she’d been expecting his call. There was no name on the display, only numbers, so it could have been a telemarketer—goodness knows she was getting more robocalls by the minute—but somehow she knew it was Hugh making good on his promise.

“Hello?” Nina answered tentatively.

“Is this Nina?” The man’s raspy voice, coarse as bark, suggested a pack-a-day habit.

“Yes. Is this Hugh?”

The air inside Nina’s car grew supercharged. Her knuckles whitened on the wheel.

“Yeah … it’s uh, Hugh.” He sounded out of it, not entirely sure of his answer.

“Thanks for taking the time to call,” she said, talking quickly, nervously. There was no easy entry into this conversation. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Hugh exhaled loudly, leading Nina to believe he had blown smoke out of his lungs. “Where do you live? Can we meet in person?”