Page 25 of The Liar I Married
I smile back. “Congratulations, and yes, I’d love to come. I’ll dash home and change and meet you there.”
I finish up early and I’m excited as I hurry to my vehicle. My heart sinks at the sight of a white truck parked alongside the road. I look at the distinctive grill and make a mental note of the small blue sticker on the front bumper. I swallow hard. Is it the same truck? How can I be sure? My palms are sweaty as I grip the steering wheel, now too afraid to peer into the rearview mirror in case he’s there. Panic shivers through me as I take a peek. The truck is there, same as before, two vehicles back. I park in the garage and lock the door behind me. I need to be back with people. No one would attack me in a public place, would they?
I rush to dress and then drive way too fast to the bistro, leave my SUV in the parking lot, and then head inside. I turn before I push open the door and see the truck slipping into a bay a few vehicles away from my red SUV. It sits among the other vehicles like a red thumb. I couldn’t hide if I wanted to. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. I look terrified and try to calm my expression before I walk inside.
The new place has a lovely homey atmosphere, with a variety of exotic dishes. I inhale air infused with the aroma of spices. I see Alex at once and he rises as I join him. We peruse the menu, discussing the dishes and deciding to get a few to share. I give the server my order and freeze as she walks away. The man from the bookstore is sitting in the corner with his gaze on me. Chills run down my spine at the sight of him. I turn to look at Alex and smile. “I know you’re going to think I’m crazy but see that guy sitting in the corner? I believe he’s been following me for the last couple of weeks.” I describe the truck.
“Is it every time you go out or only when you meet me?” Alex tore open a bread roll and added butter from a dish on the table.
I think for a beat. “Both…well, I think so, anyway. I was heading for the art studio this morning and before that he was watching me at the bookstore.” I meet his gaze. “He’s just sitting there, staring at me. It’s unnerving.”
“It might be a coincidence.” Alex smiles. “Surely you’re used to men looking at you?”
I shrug. “No not really. I’m just a mom.”
“Well, forgive me for saying but you’re beautiful.” He holds up both hands. “And I’m not hitting on you. I’m just stating a fact. The other thing, the truck you described, let’s face it, there are hundreds of them here.”
I sigh and stare at the plate of delicious food the server places before me. “You’re probably right.” I indicate to the door. “He just left.”
A wave of relief washes over me. Perhaps I’m a victim of an overactive imagination. I guess time will tell.
TWENTY-SEVEN
NOW
Something isn’t right. My limbs are heavy and I can hardly keep my eyes open. I’m sure Dolly is drugging me. After my shower, she came in all cheery with a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows floating on the top. I peer at the remnants of the drink on the nightstand, glad that I didn’t finish it. It didn’t taste right and I only had a few mouthfuls, so whatever she put in it was powerful enough to knock me out fast. I rack my brain, trying to come up with some reason why she’d want to do this to me. I’m not hysterical; in fact, we had a long talk after John left. I didn’t say too much but it was as if she already knew what we’d discussed. She even mentioned the argument I had with John the night of the accident. I told her I didn’t recall what it was about only that there was an argument. Now I know something is terribly wrong because the only person who could have told her is John. Are they working together to make me appear to be unstable? Greed makes people do terrible things, so it’s possible.
When she questioned me earlier, I was so careful to hide my feelings, so why is she drugging me? What the heck is happening? She is supposed to be helping me. I try to make my muddled brain work and the only conclusion I come up with isshe needs me out of the way for a few hours. What the heck is she planning?
My attention moves to the camera; it’s a simple nanny cam placed on a shelf opposite the end of my bed. I hate being under observation all the time. Being watched is horrible, and trust me, I haven’t forgotten being followed in the months before the accident. There are many things I remember that I will not reveal to anyone. Some things are best kept private. I grit my teeth, determined to disable that camera. The room spins around me as I cling to the edge of the bed. With heavy legs I make it to the nightstand and force myself to keep moving. Each step takes momentous effort but I’m determined to win. My vision blurs as I stumble toward the small camera. I know when she’s looking at me, the red light on the front blinks and it’s not blinking now. My hands shake as I take hold of it and rip it from the wall. I carry it like a trophy back to the bed and then drop it into the compartment below the seat in my walker.
A door in the passageway opens and closes. Panic grips me as I crawl into bed, my body heavy and uncooperative. I drag the covers over me and pretend to be asleep. My pulse is thumping so fast in my ears I have to strain to hear. Muffled footsteps approach and Dolly enters the room. She’s speaking to someone on the phone and her voice is low and urgent.
“She’s starting to remember the argument with you. What do you want me to do?” She sighs. “She’s asleep. No, she can’t overhear me. I’ve given her enough medication to knock her out for eight hours. Likely she’ll forget all about the argument by morning.”
I try to keep my breathing even but inside I’m in mental turmoil. The woman I thought was a caring friend is working against me and the only person she could be talking to is John. I clamp down hard on my jaw, my mind racing. Why is John doing this? What are they hiding from me? The drugs try to pullme under but anger is spiking my adrenaline. I’m fighting to stay awake. I need to piece together the fragments of my shattered reality. Dolly’s voice fades as she leaves the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
She betrayed me but I’m stronger than they imagine.
I’ll find out the truth, no matter the cost.
TWENTY-EIGHT
2 MONTHS BEFORE THE ACCIDENT
Although I’m trying to push the horrible feeling of being followed to the back of my mind, I’m still seeing the truck and glimpses of the man I’m convinced is following me, and my paranoia grows stronger every day. I love being at the art studio. The smell of fresh paint and the sounds of brushes on canvas are usually a comfort and I try desperately to lose myself in my creation but the truck was behind me again today after I dropped the girls at school and now my nerves are on edge. No amount of deep breathing or distraction will free me from the fear. I’m convinced this guy is just biding his time to attack me or the girls.
As I squeeze aquamarine onto my pallete, I glance up. There’s a man lurking in the garden outside the studio. My heart races and I struggle to focus on the vibrant colors in front of me. Suddenly I’m trapped in a waking nightmare, unable to escape. I can’t breathe, the room is closing in around me. I take a step closer to Alex and stare sightless at his painting. I lower my voice to just above a whisper. “Alex, that man. The one from the bistro who’s been following me. He’s outside in the garden.”
“This is getting out of hand.” Alex puts down his palette and brush and heads out of the door.
I hold my breath as he walks straight up to the man. They talk for a time and then shake hands. When he comes back into the studio, I turn to him. “What did he say?”
“He’s the new landscape gardener for the estate.” Alex smiles at me. “He’s been working in your area, so that’s why you’ve seen him hanging around. He seems like a nice enough guy. I don’t figure he’s stalking you.”
I sigh with relief. “Oh, that’s good to know.”
It’s funny but after Alex spoke to him, nobody followed me home.
