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“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 ahe.” 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’dcheated 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 hadjoint 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’sDr.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 herwhen 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.