The Wife Stalker(67)

Leo wasn’t saying anything, only watching her carefully.

“I didn’t think that it was any more than petty jealousy, and I assumed that she’d eventually get over it, but she never did. She made up lies about me, embarrassed me at the country club—essentially, she made my life a living hell.”

“Couldn’t your husband do anything about it?”

“He thought it was better to ignore it, that his involvement would only escalate things. I mean, you can understand because of what we’ve been through with Joanna.” She put up a hand. “When he was alive, it wasn’t too bad. We just made sure we didn’t go to club events that we knew she’d attend, but Matthew and Ava had joint custody of Mia, so we had to deal with some of it for Mia’s sake.” She reminded herself to take a deep breath. “After Matthew and Mia died, Ava really lost it. She thought I was responsible, and that’s when she started following me and telling other people that I had stolen him from her for his money. She’d lived in the community all her life, so most people believed her—or at least humored her. It got so bad that I had to leave and change my name.” She began to cry, and Leo came and sat next to her, putting his arm around her.

“No one is going to hurt you. Tell me, what’s happened now? How do you know she’s found you?”

She told him about running into Brent months back and discovering Ava’s comment on her blog this morning.

“I’m sorry, my love. You don’t deserve this.”

She leaned her head on him. “Just promise me you won’t talk to Ava if she calls you. I don’t want her filling your head with her vile lies. I couldn’t bear for you to think ill of me.”

“Don’t worry. That could never happen. But I won’t speak to her, I promise.”

“Thank you,” she said. Her relief was so extreme she nearly collapsed.





44

Joanna




Marion Rayfield had agreed to meet me at the medical laboratory’s coffee shop the next day. I got there early after spending the night in a local hotel, and as I sipped my coffee, I thought about what I wanted to ask her. I had gleaned from Trish that Marion hadn’t approved of her daughter running off to California with her boyfriend, and that, apparently, Piper had been estranged from her parents ever since.

I decided to be upfront with Marion about the reason for my visit. At promptly eleven a.m., a woman strode in purposefully, craning her neck. She had short brown hair cut in no real style, and she wore wire-rimmed glasses and a lab coat. It had to be her. I waved, and she walked over.

“Mrs. Rayfield?”

She looked at me without smiling. “It’s Dr. Rayfield.”

“Apologies. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I hope I’m not taking you away from your patients,” I said, trying to ease the tension.

“I’m in research. Microbiology. It’s fine.”

“I see. May I get you some coffee?”

She shook her head. “I would prefer to make this quick. You said it was urgent that you speak to me about my daughter?”

She was certainly no-nonsense. “Your daughter goes by the name of Piper now.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. I recently had to get in touch with her when her father died. I found her number through a friend she still keeps in touch with. Piper! What a ridiculous name.”

“I’m sorry about your husband.” And I was—it was terrible that it had happened so recently and suddenly—but the woman seemed to take it in stride.

“Thank you,” she said in a clipped monotone.

“So then you’ve seen her? I assume she came down for the funeral.”

She stared at me. “Why is any of this your business?”

I pulled my spine as tall as I could and dove in. “She married my ex-husband, and my children are living with her. I have some concerns about that, and I would like your help.”

“I see.” She cleared her throat. “I haven’t seen her since she took off the night after her high school graduation. She wanted to come back and see me after she learned about her father, but I told her not to. She broke her father’s heart. He had such high hopes for her, but all she cared about was herself.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, not sure what else to say. “Were you aware that she remarried after Ethan died?”

Marion shrugged. “No, but it’s not surprising. She was so young when she ran off with him. I’m really not that interested, to tell you the truth. We did everything for her, and she thanked us by running away without so much as a goodbye. She was supposed to start at Virginia Tech in the fall. We’d been counting on her going there, on her making us proud.”

It was obvious that she was still very angry, but I couldn’t tell if she genuinely thought Piper didn’t—couldn’t?—truly care for others, or if these were the words of a mother whose only child had rejected her.

Before I could formulate a response, she continued. “We always had to work so hard to ground her. She was too vain for her own good, always primping in the mirror and trying to charm people. She was elected homecoming queen, of all the anti-feminist, frivolous things . . . We wanted her to focus on her academics, her intelligence. She’s a brilliant girl, but she threw it all away. Thought she’d run off to Hollywood and get discovered.”