Long Range (Joe Pickett Book 20)(50)
She knew Tom had his iPhone with him. She’d seen him snatch it up from the breakfast bar and place it in his pocket. The phone she’d found was new and she’d never seen him with it before.
Candy looked around again before she drew it out. She now recognized it as a design knockoff of an iPhone or Samsung Galaxy and she recalled seeing something similar in the prepaid phone section at the local Walmart. She was familiar with prepaid burner phones because that’s how she’d communicated with Nicolas before her divorce from Brent had become final. Brent had been a snoop who knew the password to her regular phone. She didn’t want her soon-to-be ex-husband to read the text threads she was running with Nicolas at the time because they had very little to do with financial planning.
Although she knew deep down that what she was about to do might really impact her relationship with Tom and the way she might think about him going forward, she couldn’t help herself and she powered up the phone. The display required a seven-digit password to open.
Candy tried 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 and nothing happened, so she reversed the sequence to the same result.
Then she entered Tom’s home landline telephone number. Why? Because that’s what she used on her burner when she was cheating on Brent.
It opened up.
Candy spent the next several minutes navigating around the icons. There were no names or numbers in the contacts. The call history was blank. There were no suspicious apps and the history on the web browser revealed only preloaded sites. She felt both immense relief and shame at the same time. Tom obviously didn’t even use the phone, much less to communicate with his secret mistress. She was ashamed of herself for suspecting him.
Then she opened the text message app. There was one text thread with another number, but there wasn’t a name attached to it. The person Tom was communicating with was designated 307-362-5545. So, a Wyoming prefix.
She scrolled back to when the text conversation began, which was dated a week before.
#5545: This is a test.
TOM: Got it.
#5545: Great. We can’t talk about anything that might be overheard, so keep the phone handy.
TOM: Will do.
And that was it until it resumed with #5545 several days later.
#5545: We need to do that thing we discussed.
TOM: Tonight?
#5545: Tonight.
TOM: What time?
#5545: Let’s meet at 16:00.
TOM: I can be there.
#5545: Lock and load. Tell no one.
TOM: Of course.
Then, the next night:
#5545: I hate myself for what happened.
TOM: You’ll get over it.
#5545: Have you?
TOM: Trying to move on.
#5545: I’m sick about it.
TOM: Does anyone suspect anything?
#5545: No. And they won’t if we keep our heads down.
TOM: Good.
#5545: There’s that one more thing.
TOM: Then it’s over?
#5545: Almost.
TOM: WTF?
#5545: We need to do it tonight.
TOM: The time and place we discussed?
#5545: Exactly.
TOM: You had better be there.
#5545: Oh, I will. And if I get delayed, I’ll text you.
TOM: No deal. This is for you, not me. If you’re not there, that’s it. You can’t ask again.
That was all there was on the phone. There had been no subsequent conversation.
Candy closed her eyes and felt the tears stream hot down her face. She was distraught.
It was obvious what she’d discovered, she thought. Tom and a woman had bought prepaid phones to communicate with each other. They’d made a date because they needed to “do that thing we discussed.” Meaning they’d talked about it before. Candy guessed it was a workplace romance.
That also explained the rifle and the gear. Tom had put them in his pickup to give him an excuse for why he’d left work if anyone asked. The woman probably had a similar ruse up her sleeve. She wondered where they met up. Which hotel? Or did Tom go to her house?
She decided right then and there she wouldn’t confront Tom about it. Tom and his fling obviously had second thoughts about what had happened. She’d even admitted she hated herself, which told Candy the woman was married. Tom wasn’t, of course, but Tom and Candy’s relationship was still undefined. Sure, she’d moved into his home with him, but he’d never pledged monogamy.
And from what she could tell, it might be over and done. The woman wanted Tom more than he wanted her. She must have something on him, Candy thought.
Candy also thought she could live with it. The texting and the tryst weren’t a deal breaker. She hadn’t been so innocent or faithful herself in the past.
It was the “almost” that distressed her the most. The bitch wanted one more thing. Candy could easily guess what it was. She appreciated Tom’s reluctance to give it to her and his statement that she couldn’t ask again. Maybe, Candy thought, Tom had made his choice. And his choice was her.
Candy powered off the phone and placed it back exactly where she’d found it.
Then she finished her glass of wine in three big gulps and went inside to pour some more.
FIFTEEN
THE COW MOOSE WAS ONCE AGAIN STRADDLING THE PATH to his house and Joe slowed his WYDOT pickup to a full stop. The moose squinted in his headlights and looked dully at him through the windshield. Perhaps, Joe thought, she was still flummoxed by the battered yellow truck and didn’t know what to make of it yet.