Page 84 of Estranged Heart
“I’ll be back soon. Try not to snoop through my stuff while I’m gone.”
“I’ll only nose around your living room like you did mine,” he teases, sitting up straighter.
“As long as that’s all.” I shoot him a wink as I grab my keys on my way to the door. I tell him bye one last time, resisting the urge to kiss those irresistible lips again, and hurry out the door to my car.
There’s a small breeze sweeping over me when I reach the bakery and exit the car. Fall is right around the corner, and I’m ready for it to be closer to the time for Silas to crochet me one of his uneven sweaters. Laughing to myself, I walk through the double doors and stand in the short line.
After I choose eight different pastries, I pay and drive on over to the coffee shop. I’m in and out of the drive-through within fifteen minutes with two drinks sitting in my cup holders. Not many people are out this morning, more than likely sleeping in and having a lazy Saturday. Something I can’t wait to do with Silas when I return to the house.
Fuck, he looked so damn good on that couch, and I can’t stop thinking about the way he was stripping on my front porch last night. Those pretty nipples were tempting me to bite them right there for the whole damn world to see. I forget where I am with him sometimes, losing myself in the spellbinding moments we create together.
Too focused on how much better his moans sounded while he was in my house versus on the phone, I nearly miss my exit. I really did like having him on my couch and waking up to his warm body snuggled closely to mine. The guilt was still there a little bit, but I’m also relieved to know that none of this means I loved Landon any less. Because I don’t.
As I’m pulling up to the restaurant, I see a car driving to the back. I don’t pay it any mind until I’m heading back to my car and it’s still there. Sitting in my car, I watch as a man gets out and lights a cigarette. I can’t see his face because he’s turned toward the back door. Probably someone’s ride or something.I’m about to drive away when Stacey walks out yelling something at the stranger, her face straining.
My interest is piqued again and I roll down the window to make sure she doesn’t need help. My hand freezes on the door when the man faces my way, my heart stopping the longer I stare at him.
Hank. The man with the boat. Why is he here and how does he know Stacey? Does he know her? An ugly sensation curls into my stomach and I step out of my car. I’m about to approach them when Stacey acknowledges his presence, storming toward him, and I hide behind a large pillar.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Stacey scolds him. “Didn’t I tell you to meet me at the funeral home?”
My heart gallops in my chest and the skin on the back of my neck prickles as I continue to listen.
“You were taking too long. I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” Hank flicks ash her way.
Hands on her hips, she clenches her jaw, looking around, and I press the back of my head to the pillar, not wanting them to know I’m here.
“I told you I had to do something first. Remember the man I paid? The one who recommended your services to Landon? Well . . . he wasn’t supposed to keep coming back to dine here, but he came in today asking where Landon was. I guess he didn’t hear the news.”
“And? You think he’ll talk to the cops? It’s not like what really happened went public. Dan promised us he’d make sure it wouldn’t. To make it all look like it was out of respect for the family and to not jeopardize the case.”
Dan? Who’s this Dan? The head of the operation? I know this isn’t a coincidence. Stacey is the reason they chose my husband out of everyone else. She led them to him. Bile rises in my throat and I swallow it down, pressing my body tighter to the wall.
“Who knows if we can even trust that asshole,” Stacey shouts, raising her hands above her head. She’s angry, when the only one out here who should be raging is me. I ball my fists, digging my heels into the ground.
“Who’s to say you can be trusted? Remember that job you half assed the other day? Well, I took the rap for it.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this out here.” She glances around again and he gestures to her to get into the car. As soon as she does, he puts out his cigarette and joins her, firing up the engine.
I feel sick. A wave of nausea washes over me and I’m trying to figure out how to process everything I heard. They work together. She paid a customer to recommend Hank to Landon. Silas . . . he . . . No. It can’t be. My breaths stab at my throat with each one I take. My heart feels like it’s about to explode in my chest and I’m hit with a dizzy spell as I get back in my car.
I don’t move for what feels like forever, my hands shaking against the wheel and my stomach feeling gut punched. When Hank hauls ass out of the parking lot, I follow behind him, careful to stay a far enough distance back that he won’t notice me. My mind is all over the place. Thoughts of Landon, of Silas’s face and memories of the past month spent with the man who may be responsible for my husband’s death.
Did he seek me out on purpose? He what . . . took my husband’s heart and then wanted his life next? I can’t make sense of any of the conclusions I come to no matter how much I try. His wife works at the same hospital where Landon saw his doctor. She had access to his files. Why would anyone do this? Sure, Landon had constantly been onto her about her bad working habits, but did that really warrant his death?
I’m seeing red the whole time I’m zooming through traffic, trying to keep up with Hank’s reckless driving. Does he know he’s being followed? He should consider it happening at thispoint. The man was so damn fidgety, with fear dancing in his eyes when I last encountered him at the lake.
His car slows and I shift lanes, swerving behind someone else, paying attention to the parking lot he turns into. A funeral home. The one Stacey mentioned meeting him at before. What do they do there? Is that where they took my husband to be butchered before they used him as spare parts? Fuck these people. Fuck Stacey and fuck the man lying on my couch, whoever the hell he is. Is there a chance he didn’t know? How could he not? She’s his wife and they’ve lived in the same house all this time.
Has he been lying to me all this time? Grabbing my phone, I dial the police station and get transferred to Officer Robinson when his boss doesn’t answer.
“Hello, can I help you? Anyone there?”
“I . . . uh, yeah.” I find my voice. “It’s me, Elijah Pena, Landon Pena’s husband.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Pena?”
“I saw Hank. The man who owned the boat the accident took place on. He was at my restaurant meeting up with an employee of mine, Stacey Adams.”
