The Wife Stalker

by Liv Constantine

  “I am sorry about your son. That must have been a terrible time.”

  Trish took a sip of tea, and her hand shook as she placed the cup and saucer back on the coffee table. “Yes. It’s something you never really recover from, the death of a child.” She sat back in her chair and gazed at the floor, as if peering into the past. “Ethan was my firstborn. He was bright as a button, full of imagination.” She looked up at me then, her eyes shining. “He loved to tell stories. He’d keep us on the edges of our seats with his tales. He wanted to be a screenwriter, you know. That’s why they went to California.”

  “They were awfully young, weren’t they?”

  “Well, yes, they were.” She smiled sadly. “Don and I were not the most attentive parents in those days. We should have given Ethan a lot more guidance than we did. We made up for it with Ted, Ethan’s younger brother.”

  “And Pamela?” I asked.

  “Ah, Pamela. She was such a lovely young girl. Polite and kind. So pretty. And smart. A straight-A student. We didn’t know her parents then. We traveled in quite different circles, but I knew her father taught at the Naval Academy, and they were very strict. I always felt sorry for her. She always seemed so in need of love and affection. How is she doing?”

  It was a good thing I hadn’t begun by denigrating Piper. Trish obviously still thought highly of her. “She’s well. But I am a little concerned about her. As the wedding day approaches, she seems to be more down. I think she may feel guilty about remarrying,” I lied.

  “Poor dear.” She took another sip of tea.

  I continued. “She still seems to be carrying heavy grief over Ethan’s death—I thought perhaps speaking with you might shed some light so I can help her move forward.”

  “I see. I’m sorry to hear that she’s suffering. How long has she been seeing your brother?”

  “About a year and a half.”

  “I’m sure it hasn’t helped her state of mind that her father died recently,” Trish said.

  I disguised my surprise and pretended that this was old news. “Yes, that may be what set her back into a depression,” I agreed. “If it’s not too difficult to talk about, would you mind telling me about Ethan’s accident?”

  “They were hiking. Ethan was doing something foolish, goofing around at the edge, and he fell. Pamela was destroyed. As we all were.” Her eyes were filled with grief. “As soon as we got the call, we flew to California. We called the Rayfields, Pamela’s parents, but they never responded. Didn’t go to California and didn’t reach out to their daughter, as far as I know. Ethan was cremated, and Pamela kept some of the ashes to spread there, while we brought some home so that a part of him could be in the waters here that he loved so much.”

  So Piper was there when Ethan fell to his death. I took a deep breath to make my voice even. “The funeral was here in Annapolis?”

  “Yes, a private service. Pamela didn’t come since she had a service for him in California.”

  “And how long did you stay in touch?”

  “Not long. The last time we spoke, she was still single and still in California.”

  “I guess it must have been hard for her. Being so young and alone in a new place with no money to speak of,” I said.

  “Oh, she had some money. Ethan’s trust matured the week he died. Don and I were both thankful for that, at least. But you know, she was our son’s wife. We would never have let her go without.”

  So Piper had known from the get-go that there was money to be had, if not from a trust, then from his parents. The poor little girl who needed “love and affection” so badly.

  “Thank you so much for your time and hospitality, Trish. I appreciate it,” I said, rising. “I think this will be really helpful as I do my best to support her.”

  “Not at all. Any friend of Pamela’s is always welcome here. Please give her my love and tell her I’d be so happy to hear from her.”

  “I’ll do that,” I said, as we walked to the front door, but of course, even if I were her friend and I did tell her to get in touch with Trish, Piper would never do so. It was pretty clear that she threw people away when they were of no more use to her. Why would she write off this wonderful woman who had obviously thought the world of her, unless she had had something to do with Ethan’s death?

  As soon as I got in the car, I looked up another number on my smartphone. I had a feeling there was someone close by who could give me a much truer picture of Pamela Rayfield.

  43

  Piper

  Leo told Piper he’d take the children to the aquarium, instead of going to the office, so she could have some time to herself to absorb the news about her father. They’d already given Rebecca the day off, and, as luck would have it, the kids were off as well due to a teacher conference day, even though the Thanksgiving break was in just three weeks. Piper had tossed and turned all night, finally falling into a fitful sleep sometime after two. She was still groggy when she got out of bed and checked the time on her phone. Ten o’clock. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so late.

  She got dressed, then went to the kitchen and made a cup of espresso. The first floor was dark and silent, and she realized she kind of liked it. It seemed like ages since she’d felt free to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, without worrying about someone seeing her and judging her.

  She was becoming more convinced part of the reason she wasn’t connecting better with Stelli was because of Rebecca. She was probably stoking the fire of his missing his mother. Did they really need a live-in nanny? The lack of privacy was bothering her, too. Just the other night, Piper had gone into the kitchen after dinner to make a cup of tea and seen Rebecca shrink back from the door. Was she eavesdropping on them?

  Her mind returned again to her father. Opening her laptop, she looked up the obituary she hadn’t been able to bring herself to read the night before. It was a nice piece, chronicling his accomplishments in his career and in the community. A deep sadness hollowed out her stomach when she looked at his picture. His hair had thinned, and his face was lined—he’d aged a lot since she’d last seen him. Of course, it had been over fifteen years ago.

  His long-standing career as a professor at the Naval Academy and his popularity with his students were evident from the seemingly endless condolences they left in the comments section. Piper read them with growing bewilderment.

  Professor Rayfield was my favorite professor. Always made the class fun and interesting.

  Professor Rayfield always took the time to explain things, very patient, great teacher.

  Prof Rayfield encouraged me to follow my passion. Amazing teacher.

  Were they really talking about her father? When she was growing up, he hadn’t had much patience with her, and as for encouraging a passion? That was a joke. How was it possible that he’d been able to connect so well with his students when he had never attempted to understand his own daughter? She felt cheated and closed her laptop, not wanting to read any more.

  She walked into the living room, where she could look out at the expanse of woods. Her father was dead at sixty-eight. A ticking time bomb in his head had gone off. Had he had any warning? she wondered. Any premonition that it was his last day on Earth? She thought of the way he had lived such a careful, sequestered life. He and her mother never relaxed. Both of them brought their work home with them; they never spent time around the table just talking, or playing a game after dinner. He took his “morning constitutional” every day, but it had never seemed to her that he enjoyed the time outdoors, rather that he was just checking off another item on his list so he could feel good about being responsible with his health. He loved his work, she supposed, although how anyone could get excited about mechanical engineering was a mystery to her. His only concession to what he called a “frivolity” was his weakness for Laurel and Hardy. It was the only time she heard him laugh with abandon. Her mother used to roll her eyes and tell him to turn the volume down, muttering under her breath about h
ow stupid the movies were. But it had made Piper glad to see that he had a lighter side. She sighed. She hoped he was at peace.

  Restless, she decided to write a new blog post for the center, maybe something about living every day as though it were your last. It was an expression everyone had heard but few took to heart. She hadn’t updated the blog in a few weeks, and she noticed that there were comments on older posts still to be approved. She read through each one, approving the appropriate comments and deleting the spam. She froze as she came upon a comment posted a week ago.

  Found you! Did you think just because you left California, I’d forget all about you? I wonder what your clients at the “recovery center” would think if they knew you were a murderer. Good thing you’re not still teaching sailing, at least. Now that I know where you are, I’ll be making sure that everyone knows exactly who you are, including that new husband of yours.

  Piper took a screenshot and filed it away, then deleted the comment. How had Ava found her? She’d been so careful, even making sure that the business transfer had gone through several holding companies so it couldn’t be publicly traced to her real name. If Ava showed up here, she would make Piper’s life impossible.

  She had to think . . . It must have been Brent. She knew he’d recognized her when she’d seen him in town. Damn it! He must have gone home and called Ava. But still, how had Ava so easily found out her new name and her role at the recovery center? One thing was for sure—Ava wasn’t going to drive her out of Westport the way she’d driven her from San Diego. This time, Piper would find a way to stop her.

  She looked up Brent’s office number online and, taking a deep breath, dialed.

  “Pacific Investments,” a male voice with a British accent answered.

  “Brent McDonald, please. Pamela Dunn calling.”

  “One moment.”

  She drummed her fingers while she waited.

  “Pamela?” He sounded tentative.

  “Hi, Brent. I owe you an apology.” She dove right in, her tone calm and apologetic. “I’m sorry for pretending it wasn’t me when I ran into you in Westport. I was worried about what Ava might do if she found out where I was.”

  There was a weighty pause before he responded. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  She sighed. “Surely you remember how she acted after Matthew and Mia . . . She blamed me and made my life a living hell.”

  He cleared his throat. “Um, I know she made a scene a few times at the club, but she was grieving. I mean, you have to cut her a break. She lost her daughter.”

  “I know, I know. But she started stalking me, following me everywhere I went, making a scene. She spray-painted ‘Murderer’ on my car.”

  He made an odd throat-clearing noise, but she pushed on.

  “You know as well as I that what happened was an accident—the authorities were clear on that. But she was never going to let it go, so I needed to disappear, start over again. And now she’s found me. I have to ask: Did you call her and tell her you saw me in Westport?”

  She heard a long exhale and papers shuffling. “Listen, Pamela, or Piper, or whatever your name is now, I’m really not comfortable giving you any information. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if Ava was right.”

  Fear shot through her. “You can’t be seri—”

  He cut her off. “I’m dead serious. After I saw you on the street, I had a long talk with Ava. She told me some things about you that I never knew. If I’d have known the way you treated poor Mia . . . Look, I have to go. Don’t call me again.” The line went dead.

  This was no good. If Ava knew where she was, she’d start calling Leo and tell him awful things about her—things that would make him suspicious, that would make him doubt her just as Brent was doing. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

  Leo knew, of course, that Piper was a widow. She’d told him when they first started dating that she’d moved here from California for a fresh start after she’d lost her husband and stepdaughter in a tragic sailing accident. When she’d opened up to him about the accident, he’d been sympathetic and respectful of her wish to leave the past behind and hadn’t pressed her for details. She’d also told him that she’d changed her name because of a stalker, but she hadn’t volunteered that the stalker was Ava. She needed to clarify this with Leo right away, so that if Ava did reach him, he wouldn’t entertain her ravings.

  As soon as he and the kids walked in the door, Piper greeted them in the foyer and wasted no time telling Leo she needed to talk to him alone.

  “Everything all right?”

  She held a finger up. “Hey, guys. How about I put a movie on for you and then bring in some lunch for you in a little while?”

  “Okay,” Evie answered, and Stelli didn’t make a fuss for once. She got them settled, then led Leo into the kitchen.

  “Do you remember when I told you that I had a stalker in California?”

  Alarm filled his face. “Of course. Has he found you?”

  “I think so. But it’s not a he.” He looked startled, but she kept going before he could ask questions. “I didn’t tell you the whole story because I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  He leaned back, giving her an appraising look. “O-kay . . .”

  He was wearing his attorney persona now, and she knew she had to be careful. “Ava, Matthew’s ex-wife, was stalking me. They were separated when I met him. In fact, she’d cheated on him long before I came into the picture. But when he and I started dating, she went crazy.”

  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.”