Something about the way she stood, feet planted and shoulders squared, told me she'd been working up to this moment. "Nolan, I need to talk to you. " I leaned against the counter across from her, staying on my feet. "I've been thinking for a while," she said, her tone steady, almost rehearsed. "I need some space. I think I need to live on my own for a while, figure out who I am outside of this. " She paused, waiting for a reaction.
When I didn't give one, she continued. "There's someone at the hospital. " She held my gaze. "He makes me feel alive again, like I was already dead. " As if 20 years of showing up every day, keeping a roof over us, had just been background noise she'd learned to ignore. I reached into the drawer behind me, the one filled with takeout menus and old batteries, and pulled out the envelope from Bridges. I set it on the counter between us.
"I finished early in Kearney three weeks ago," I said. "Stop for gas on Route 9. Your Subaru was parked at Peony's. You weren't in it. " Her expression didn't change, but her grip tightened around the glass. "I watched you walk out with a 25-year-old in a navy blazer.
I saw you get in his car and head toward the motel near the highway. I sat in my truck for 10 minutes deciding whether to follow you. " I paused. "I didn't. I went home and called a lawyer. " I tapped the envelope lightly. "You're 3 weeks late, Diane. " She didn't open it right away.
She just stared at it like it might explode in her hands. Then she picked it up, slid the papers out, and began reading right there by the refrigerator, still holding her glass of water. "You froze the account," she said quietly. "$2,600," I replied. "Withdrawn on Wednesdays before your Thursday shifts. " I looked at her. I didn't need a detective.
I needed a bank statement. That landed harder than anything else. I could see it in her face. Not guilt, not sadness, but the slow realization that everything she thought had gone unnoticed had been sitting there in plain numbers all along. "Nolan, this isn't" She stopped, took a breath, and tried again.
"I was going to tell you. I wasn't just going to disappear. " "You've been disappearing every Thursday since January. " She set the papers down, walked into the living room, and sat on the edge of the couch. I stayed in the kitchen. I didn't follow. After a long silence, she asked, "What do you want me to do? " "Whatever you want, Diane.
That's what you've been doing anyway. Just not from this house and not with my money. " She left that night, packed a single bag, called her sister, and drove off without another word. I locked the front door behind her, stood in the hallway for a few seconds listening as the sound of the engine faded. Then I went back into the kitchen, poured myself a bourbon, and called Bridges to tell him she'd been served. 3 days later, my phone rang from a number I didn't recognize.