Page 57 of Mountain Man Officer

“My ex-wife is in town,” I spilled.

“Oh.” She nodded and went back to her typing.

I sat down at my desk and tried to concentrate on my work. Half an hour later, Ryan rescued me by walking in the door.

“Mornin’, Cheryl, mornin’, Jason,” Ryan said, pulling off his hat before going to sit in his chair.

“Mornin’, Ryan,” Cheryl said.

“Any headway on the hair salon?” I went over to him, eager to be distracted.

“Yeah.” Ryan turned on his computer and twisted the screen so I could see. “You remember the girls said that they get restocked on hair care products every week?”

I nodded.

“Well, I did some research on each of these brands.” He showed me a picture of the product shelf at the salon. “They aren’t worth the price Katrina is paying for them. She has way overspent, every week.”

“Good work.”

“What’s our next step?” Ryan asked.

I thought I saw movement out the window, and I hurried over. It was just the mailman. A moment later, the door banged open, and Cheryl accepted the day’s mail from the elderly postman.

“Ma’am,” he said before leaving.

I turned back around to find Ryan staring at me in disbelief.

“His ex is in town,” Cheryl supplied to aid his confusion.

“Oh.” Ryan nodded. “You wanna run by the hair salon again?”

“Yes,” I said, sensing the subterfuge.

We got into Ryan’s hatchback and drove four and a half blocks away to park on the street. Ryan turned to me as soon as we could viably say we were on a stakeout. “This is the same ex that threw things at you and stole your car?”

“That one,” I said.

“What’s she doing in town?”

“Stalking me.” I sighed. “She’s left me at least six messages a day for the past three days.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Hell no,” I said.

“So, your plan is to just avoid her and jump like a scared cat every time you see a mailman?” He looked incredulous.

“I hadn’t thought that far in advance,” I admitted. It did seem like my attempts to avoid her ended up being that ridiculous. Not to mention, now was the perfect time to get her to agree to the divorce since I knew where she was.

“You gotta confront her,” Ryan said.

“I will.” I pulled out my phone and switched it on. As I waited for the screen to boot up, Ryan said nothing. He pulled out binoculars and surveyed the salon. I found thirty text messages and three voicemails from Angie. I picked one of them and hit Redial.

“Jason?” Her voice soared ten octaves above normal, a grating squeak in my ear. I put the phone on speaker so Ryan could listen in.

“Angie, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” she said, trying to flirt. “I found some old photos while I was going through my things, and I miss the way things used to be.”

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