I kept my expression controlled, hurt but dignified. "Seems like a lot of trouble for a meeting." People drifted closer. A mother with a stroller.
Two dads holding coffees. A group of teenagers pretending to tie their shoes near the booth. By noon, the festival was packed. Kids screaming, music playing, hot dogs sizzling, normal life on the surface, a fuse burning underneath.
And right on time, Ryan Cooper staggered in. He looked like somebody had wrung him out. Unshaven, eyes red, hair sticking up like he'd slept in a car. His shirt was wrinkled.
He carried himself like a man who hadn't realized yet he'd already lost. He scanned the crowd, spotted me, and stormed over. "You called my wife," he spat, voice cracking. "You ruined my family."
I kept my face neutral. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ryan. Why would I call Jessica?" "You know why," he shouted.
A few heads turned. More than a few. "What did she tell you?" I asked, genuinely curious what story he clung to. "She said... she said Lauren sent me those messages."
"Okay."
"She sent me pictures. Told me to meet her at the Ritz." He froze. You could see the moment he realized what he just said out loud.
In the middle of a festival, in front of half the town. Someone in the crowd asked, "Pictures of what?" Someone else muttered, "Isn't he married?" I leaned in slightly.
"Calm down. My wife was pursuing you?" His jaw clenched, his face drained. He realized he'd dug the hole, thrown himself in, and asked for a shovel. He tried to grab my shirt.
I stepped aside. He barreled into the ring-toss booth, knocking it sideways, sending rings, sandbags, and a tray of chili dogs flying. Cotton candy stuck to his shirt like pink shame. The kids started laughing.
Parents covered their smiles. Ryan staggered to his feet, looking like a clown from a back-alley circus. That's when Brandon Ellis showed up. Bruised cheek, swollen lip.
Michelle had been thorough, but not reckless. He saw Ryan, saw me, saw the crowd, and instantly misread every signal. "You called my wife too," he shouted. "You ruined everything."
"Brandon," I said calmly, "why would I call your wife?" "She told me you forwarded the messages, the hotel plan. She said you showed her everything." I tilted my head.
"So, you were going to meet my wife at a hotel together?" Brandon blinked, realizing too late he was repeating Ryan's mistake. The murmurs in the crowd grew into something louder. Disgust, disbelief, judgment.
Chief Daniels appeared from behind the dunk tank, arms crossed. He didn't need to intervene yet. The crowd was doing the work. Ryan pointed at me, desperate.
"This wasn't our idea. Lauren was the one texting us. She sent those pictures." Brandon cut him off. "She said she wanted out of her marriage."
"She said her husband was—"