The Wife Stalker

by Liv Constantine

  Dedication

  Lynne’s dedication: for Nick and Theo

  Valerie’s dedication: for my sons

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1: Piper

  2: Joanna

  3: Piper

  4: Joanna

  5: Piper

  6: Joanna

  7: Piper

  8: Joanna

  9: Piper

  10: Joanna

  11: Piper

  12: Joanna

  13: Piper

  14: Joanna

  15: Piper

  16: Joanna

  17: Piper

  18: Joanna

  19: Piper

  20: Joanna

  21: Piper

  22: Joanna

  23: Piper

  24: Joanna

  25: Piper

  26: Joanna

  27: Piper

  28: Joanna

  29: Piper

  30: Joanna

  31: Piper

  32: Joanna

  33: Piper

  34: Joanna

  35: Piper

  36: Joanna

  37: Piper

  38: Joanna

  39: Piper

  40: Joanna

  41: Piper

  42: Joanna

  43: Piper

  44: Joanna

  45: Piper

  46: Joanna

  47: Piper

  48: Joanna

  49: Piper

  50: Joanna

  51: Piper

  52: Joanna

  53: Piper

  54: Joanna

  55: Piper

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Liv Constantine

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  1

  Piper

  Piper Reynard pulled into the parking lot of the Phoenix Recovery Center and parked in her reserved spot. When she’d been forced to leave San Diego ten months ago, she wasn’t sure where to go, only that she wanted to be as far away from the West Coast as possible. It had to be somewhere near the water, though, so that she could still sail on the weekends. And it needed to be a place where she could start over without standing out. After extensive research, she’d settled on Westport, Connecticut, a jewel of a town on the coast of Long Island Sound. The former home of Paul Newman and other celebrities, it had a sophisticated vibe and was just over an hour away from New York City by train. But best of all, it was the kind of place that attracted people from all over, rather than the kind of small town where everyone’s family had lived for generations, making them nosy about newcomers. She’d found the perfect house—a sprawling white clapboard on the water—and joined a yacht club, where she kept the sailboat she’d bought as soon as she came east.

  The one problem she had to overcome was how to reinvent herself. She couldn’t continue with her counseling practice, as her license was in her real name, so the next best thing was a business in a similar field. She’d been incredibly lucky to find an existing one for sale and bought the Phoenix Recovery Center a few weeks after moving to Westport. All she’d had to do was have a lawyer set up an LLC for her under the name Harmony Healing Arts. It had already been a thriving business, offering meditation retreats, mindfulness, recovery programs, and nutrition and yoga classes.

  She grabbed her briefcase from the passenger’s seat, slid out of her Alfa Romeo Spider, and walked toward the entrance of the building, feeling a sense of pride as she looked up at the sleek, two-story building of glass and cedar. She unlocked the front door and went directly to her office. It was still early, six thirty a.m., but Piper liked to be there well before the center opened at eight. It gave her time to get centered before she thrust herself into her busy day. She took a quick look at her calendar to check the time of her appointment with Leo Drakos. He’d called her out of the blue last week and asked to discuss a client he was defending in a murder case. He spoke to her about Fred Grainger, who had been in one of the center’s support groups for the last four months and was about to go to trial for the murder of his actress girlfriend. She’d googled Drakos and seen he was a well-known defense lawyer, prominent or perhaps even famous in his field. Based on her knowledge of Fred, she didn’t think he was guilty, and she was glad Drakos had taken his case.

  She opened her laptop to check the social media accounts for Phoenix. Instagram first. Another three hundred followers. Excellent. It must have been the podcast episode she’d uploaded yesterday on filling your well before trying to fill someone else’s. Twitter next. Thirty-five retweets of her blog post on selfishness being the new selflessness. And on Facebook, the center had hit ten thousand likes. A very good morning indeed.

  She dimmed her office lights and pressed Play on her iPad. As the soothing sounds of Debussy filled the room, she closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. Maybe things were really going to be different here. They had to be. She couldn’t keep starting over and finding new places to hide.

  2

  Joanna

  Leo’s finally coming out of his depression. After three long months of his barely communicating with me, lost inside his head, he suddenly seemed to perk up. He was starting on a new murder case next week, and I could see that having it to immerse himself in was a good thing, but I knew from experience that it would also be exhausting. I convinced him that a few days away at the house in Maine before the trial started would be a nice break for all of us. The bracing sea air and magnificent views were always restorative, so I’d already called ahead to Lloyd, the caretaker, to ready the house for us.

  As soon as we drove up and opened the front door, fresh flowers greeted us on the entry table, and the rooms seemed to welcome us back. Stelli ran through the house ahead of us like a tornado, and when I heard a whoop of delight, I knew he’d found the surprise I’d arranged to have waiting in his bedroom. A minute later, he came barreling down the stairs holding two remote-control bumper cars and ran to his sister, Evie.

  “Look what was in my room! Come on, let’s go play.”

  Evie, a grown-up eight to his six, gave him a measured look, then spoke. “Let me put my things away first.”

  She was such a sweet child that she didn’t ask if there was anything waiting in her room, which of course there was. I’d ordered her a pink wireless karaoke microphone and asked Lloyd to place it on her bed.

  As Leo unloaded the car, I went through the house, turning lights on, unpacking our bags, and getting us settled in. Opening the door to the deck, I took a deep breath of Maine air. It was a perfect spring day, 62 degrees, according to the thermometer on the outside wall, but the sun made it feel warmer. The sea was calm and the sky a brilliant, cloudless blue. I sat in one of the white lounge chairs and breathed in the salt air, closing my eyes as the warmth of the sun spread across my body.

  “Are you asleep?”

  Leo’s voice startled me from a light slumber, and I sat up, turning to look at him standing at the open sliding glass door. “No, just resting,” I said. “Where are the children?”

  “In their rooms, playing.”

  “Why don’t you sit down and join me?”

  He shook his head, his expression serious. “No. I think I’ll go inside and rest for a bit.”

  I tried not to show my exasperation. “Leo. The sun and sea air will do you some good. Come sit.”

  He sighed reluctantly. This is how he’d been the last few months—keeping to himself, sleeping most of the time, or staring off into space. Finally, he stepped onto the deck and took the lounge chair next to mine, but he looked straight ahead at the water, not saying a word. I put my hand on his arm.

  “Leo, let’s try to make this
trip a good one for Stelli and Evie. They love it here. It would be good to make some happy memories for them.”

  He continued to stare at the water. “I’ll try, Joanna. I know I’ve not been the easiest person to be around these last months.” He turned to look at me and attempted a weak smile. “You’ve been wonderful, you really have, and I’m grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  Even though we’d been together for many years, it was still a thrill to hear those words, to know he appreciated me. There was no one I cared about more than him and the children, and I was relieved to see that he was starting to come back to me.

  “I will always be here for you, Leo. No matter what,” I said.

  Tears filled his eyes, and he blinked, then turned to hide them from me. Seeing him like this made me hope he was emotionally prepared for this case, which would be another high-profile one. I’d been telling him it might be good for him to get counseling, but he wasn’t interested, even when I reminded him how much it had helped me. My therapist, Celeste, advised me not to push him, so I’d backed off. But after something he’d said in passing, a possible solution occurred to me. I just had to figure out a way to frame it so that it sounded like a good idea to him, too.

  3

  Piper

  After teaching her nine o’clock yoga class, Piper went back to her office to work on her new blog post. The alarm on her phone sounded, reminding her of her next appointment, and she barely had time to throw a shirt over her sports bra and yoga pants before there was a tap on her office door.

  “Hello, come in,” she said, rising from her chair.

  As Leo Drakos walked in, she was immediately struck by his dark good looks and brooding eyes, and when he put his hand out to shake hers, she took in his well-groomed nails and firm grip. Then her eyes traveled to his perfectly tailored gray suit and starched white shirt, silver cuff links, and paisley Zegna necktie—the same brand Matthew had always worn. In the pictures she’d seen of Leo Drakos online, she had thought he was nice-looking enough, but his charisma came across in person in a whole different way.

  “Thank you for making time for me so quickly, Ms. Reynard.” His voice was deep and pleasant, and she felt herself not wanting to let go of his hand.

  “Of course. I’m glad to help in any way I can. But please, call me Piper. Won’t you have a seat?” She indicated a deep-cushioned armchair, and Leo waited for Piper to sit before settling himself into it.

  “As I told you on the phone, my client, Fred Grainger, has authorized me to speak with you about the time he’s spent here, in addition to his work in AA.”

  Piper nodded. “Yes, when he told me, I had him sign a release.”

  “He worked through some addiction issues here with you, is that right?”

  “Yes,” she said. “He was very committed to the process. Worked very hard.”

  “Was he receiving any counseling here in addition to the recovery work?”

  Piper shook her head. “We don’t offer one-on-one therapy sessions here, but work on a group approach.” She could have filled him in more but didn’t want to sound like too much of an expert. Her new identity here in Westport didn’t include a master’s in clinical psychology from Pepperdine and her work at a private practice in San Diego.

  “He’s been coming here for six months, right?”

  “Regularly—twice a week, in addition to his AA meetings. I have the records here.” She indicated the file folder in her lap. “He needed a place that was safe, where people listened without judgment or condemnation.” She paused and smiled at Leo. “You know, it’s what everyone needs, really—a place where they can spill their insides and let it all out. It’s like a cleansing of the soul. All of us have wounds we bury deep inside, and they affect us without our even realizing it.”

  He stared at her for a moment. “Do you . . .” He put a hand up and shook his head. “Back to Fred. Did he do well here?”

  She sat up straighter, giving him a professional nod. “Fred made great progress and stayed clean and sober. I believe he truly wants to turn his life around.”

  “I agree,” Leo said with a nod. “We’re going to need character witnesses. Would you be willing to testify?”

  Piper shifted in her chair, thinking of all the possible ramifications of taking the stand in a high-profile murder case. “Well . . . it might be better if some of my staff did, specifically Morgan Timmons. He worked more closely with Fred. I oversaw his progress, but Morgan had more direct interaction.”

  “Okay, then. Could I speak with Mr. Timmons today?”

  “Of course. He’ll be in this afternoon. I’ll have him call you as soon as he gets here. In the meantime, if you’d like, I can take you on a tour of the facility so you can see what services Fred participated in.” She stood, annoyed with herself for her gym clothes and messy ponytail. If she’d known how attractive Leo Drakos was, she’d have taken more care with her appearance today.

  He glanced at his watch. “I’m pressed for time. I’ll take a rain check.”

  Though unsettled by how disappointed she was to see him leave, she nodded. “I understand, I’ll walk you out.”

  When they reached the door, he stopped and handed her a business card. “If you think of anything else that would help, you have both my cell and office number here. And again, thanks for passing it along to Mr. Timmons.”

  After Piper returned to her office, she leaned back in her chair and took several deep breaths. She was sorry that she couldn’t testify—it would certainly have given her an excuse to get to know him better. She was a little surprised by how strongly attracted to him she was, but she couldn’t deny it felt good. There was something strong and powerful about the way he carried himself and how he spoke. She’d read that he could mesmerize a jury, and she could see why. She pictured him now, as he’d sat across from her, handsome and debonair. Piper had taken in everything about him—especially the gold ring on his left hand. That was the one detail that troubled her.

  4

  Joanna

  Sometimes life has a way of taking care of things for you. It was serendipitous that Leo’s case had led him to the Phoenix Recovery Center right here in Westport. With this trial imminent, Leo needed to be able to focus and not dwell on things he couldn’t change. He’d always been the one to light up a room, his infectious laugh and passionate way of speaking drawing everyone in, but the spark in his eyes had dulled, and he barely looked at any of us when he got home at the end of the day. Even Stelli’s antics failed to perk him up lately.

  Keeping one eye on the kids, who were bouncing on their trampoline, I checked the time on my phone. Almost six. Leo would be home from the office any minute now.

  “Time to get off. Daddy will be home soon.”

  Stelli kept jumping, ignoring me, but Evie scooted off and came toward me.

  “Can we have ice cream for dessert tonight?” she asked.

  I smiled at her. “Sure.”

  Stelli yelled and continued bouncing. “Can I do one more flip? Please.”

  I pushed away my frustration at Stelli’s pushing the boundaries, reminding myself that boys needed to work off their energy. “Okay, one more. Should we rate you?”

  He bounced up and down, his face scrunched up in concentration. He bounced higher, put his hands up in the air, and executed a perfect somersault. When he landed, I applauded, and Evie joined in.

  “Fantastic! An eleven,” I pronounced.

  He jumped off and ran to me. “It only goes up to ten, silly.”

  “Well, it was so super-duper that a ten wasn’t enough.”

  I let them watch a show while I finished making dinner. There was a roast in the oven, and I opened the door to check it. Leo was a meat-and-potatoes man, and though I’d tried to get him to eat a little more adventurously, in the end it was easier to cater to his tastes.

  I’d just uncorked a bottle of Stags’ Leap cabernet when I heard the door chime.

  “Daddy’
s home!” Stelli jumped up from the sofa and went to greet him. I always loved to see their special bond. No one could make Stelli’s face light up the way his father could. Of course, lately, it’d been a little more difficult, but I knew Leo was doing his best.

  “Hi, buddy,” he said to Stelli before looking to me and Evie. “Good evening, ladies,” he called, sounding a little like his old self. Evie ran up and hugged him. I was encouraged by the enthusiasm in his voice, but when he smiled at me, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Smells good in here.”

  I poured a glass of wine and handed it to him. “Your favorite.”

  “Thanks.” He took a sip. “Ah, nice.”

  I put out a small platter of olives and cheese. “To tide you over until dinner.” I knew he would have skipped lunch—he always did when he was close to the start of a trial—but I also knew that he needed time to unwind when he got home. The kids went back to their show, and Leo took a long swallow.

  I decided to plunge in. “I noticed that there’s a meditation workshop at that recovery center this Saturday. Maybe it would help with the Grainger case if you spent a little time there to better understand what they do and how it helped him.”

  He looked at me, his brow wrinkling. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s nothing weird. Just a day to try to focus on what’s good in your life. You know, taking a look at the positive.”

  He took another long swallow of wine and set the glass down. “You know I don’t go in for that kind of New Age thing. And weren’t we planning to take the kids to the beach?”

  I shrugged. It was more important to me that he get better, and I could handle them on my own. “It’s only one day. I’ll take them to the beach, and we can all go back on Sunday.”

  “I don’t know. Sounds like a waste of time. I already spoke with Fred’s counselor and got everything I needed from him. No need for me to waste more time going back there.”

  “Maybe it would be a waste. But maybe not. The website says their techniques can help you to clear your mind and improve your focus and concentration. You’ve got a big case coming up. Every little thing helps.”