The Wife Stalker(65)

“They were hiking. Ethan was doing something foolish, goofing around at the edge, and he fell. Pamela was destroyed. As we all were.” Her eyes were filled with grief. “As soon as we got the call, we flew to California. We called the Rayfields, Pamela’s parents, but they never responded. Didn’t go to California and didn’t reach out to their daughter, as far as I know. Ethan was cremated, and Pamela kept some of the ashes to spread there, while we brought some home so that a part of him could be in the waters here that he loved so much.”

So Piper was there when Ethan fell to his death. I took a deep breath to make my voice even. “The funeral was here in Annapolis?”

“Yes, a private service. Pamela didn’t come since she had a service for him in California.”

“And how long did you stay in touch?”

“Not long. The last time we spoke, she was still single and still in California.”

“I guess it must have been hard for her. Being so young and alone in a new place with no money to speak of,” I said.

“Oh, she had some money. Ethan’s trust matured the week he died. Don and I were both thankful for that, at least. But you know, she was our son’s wife. We would never have let her go without.”

So Piper had known from the get-go that there was money to be had, if not from a trust, then from his parents. The poor little girl who needed “love and affection” so badly.

“Thank you so much for your time and hospitality, Trish. I appreciate it,” I said, rising. “I think this will be really helpful as I do my best to support her.”

“Not at all. Any friend of Pamela’s is always welcome here. Please give her my love and tell her I’d be so happy to hear from her.”

“I’ll do that,” I said, as we walked to the front door, but of course, even if I were her friend and I did tell her to get in touch with Trish, Piper would never do so. It was pretty clear that she threw people away when they were of no more use to her. Why would she write off this wonderful woman who had obviously thought the world of her, unless she had had something to do with Ethan’s death?

As soon as I got in the car, I looked up another number on my smartphone. I had a feeling there was someone close by who could give me a much truer picture of Pamela Rayfield.





43

Piper




Leo told Piper he’d take the children to the aquarium, instead of going to the office, so she could have some time to herself to absorb the news about her father. They’d already given Rebecca the day off, and, as luck would have it, the kids were off as well due to a teacher conference day, even though the Thanksgiving break was in just three weeks. Piper had tossed and turned all night, finally falling into a fitful sleep sometime after two. She was still groggy when she got out of bed and checked the time on her phone. Ten o’clock. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so late.

She got dressed, then went to the kitchen and made a cup of espresso. The first floor was dark and silent, and she realized she kind of liked it. It seemed like ages since she’d felt free to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, without worrying about someone seeing her and judging her.

She was becoming more convinced part of the reason she wasn’t connecting better with Stelli was because of Rebecca. She was probably stoking the fire of his missing his mother. Did they really need a live-in nanny? The lack of privacy was bothering her, too. Just the other night, Piper had gone into the kitchen after dinner to make a cup of tea and seen Rebecca shrink back from the door. Was she eavesdropping on them?

Her mind returned again to her father. Opening her laptop, she looked up the obituary she hadn’t been able to bring herself to read the night before. It was a nice piece, chronicling his accomplishments in his career and in the community. A deep sadness hollowed out her stomach when she looked at his picture. His hair had thinned, and his face was lined—he’d aged a lot since she’d last seen him. Of course, it had been over fifteen years ago.

His long-standing career as a professor at the Naval Academy and his popularity with his students were evident from the seemingly endless condolences they left in the comments section. Piper read them with growing bewilderment.

Professor Rayfield was my favorite professor. Always made the class fun and interesting.



Professor Rayfield always took the time to explain things, very patient, great teacher.



Prof Rayfield encouraged me to follow my passion. Amazing teacher.





Were they really talking about her father? When she was growing up, he hadn’t had much patience with her, and as for encouraging a passion? That was a joke. How was it possible that he’d been able to connect so well with his students when he had never attempted to understand his own daughter? She felt cheated and closed her laptop, not wanting to read any more.

She walked into the living room, where she could look out at the expanse of woods. Her father was dead at sixty-eight. A ticking time bomb in his head had gone off. Had he had any warning? she wondered. Any premonition that it was his last day on Earth? She thought of the way he had lived such a careful, sequestered life. He and her mother never relaxed. Both of them brought their work home with them; they never spent time around the table just talking, or playing a game after dinner. He took his “morning constitutional” every day, but it had never seemed to her that he enjoyed the time outdoors, rather that he was just checking off another item on his list so he could feel good about being responsible with his health. He loved his work, she supposed, although how anyone could get excited about mechanical engineering was a mystery to her. His only concession to what he called a “frivolity” was his weakness for Laurel and Hardy. It was the only time she heard him laugh with abandon. Her mother used to roll her eyes and tell him to turn the volume down, muttering under her breath about how stupid the movies were. But it had made Piper glad to see that he had a lighter side. She sighed. She hoped he was at peace.