The Wife Stalker(10)
The rest of the party went by in a blur. I was continually on the lookout for her and watching Leo, trying to see whether they spoke again, but she didn’t seem to have a hard time meeting others. Before she left, she walked up to Leo and put a hand on his arm. They talked for a moment, then he gave her a hug. By the time the last guest drove off, it was after nine. The kids were exhausted, so I put them to bed and then joined Leo in the den.
He sat in the red armchair texting, and when he saw me enter the room, he quickly put his phone away. I bit my tongue and didn’t ask who he’d been texting. Leo didn’t like to be questioned. “Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, don’t you think?”
“I do. It was another great party. You did a good job.”
“Thank you. I hope you’re glad we went ahead with it.”
He smiled. “I am. You were right.”
I cleared my throat. “Piper seemed nice.”
“She’s very nice. Smart, too.”
I felt the heat start at my neck and spread to my face. I had to be careful. If I said anything negative about her, it would only make him come to her defense. “She came alone, so I assume she’s not married.”
“She’s a widow, actually. Her husband died last year.” He answered so quickly and with such assurance that I immediately knew that they’d talked about it.
I dropped it, but as soon as Leo went up to bed, I googled “Piper Reynard” on my laptop, but the only hit that came up was the Phoenix Recovery Center, whose main page featured loads of pictures of the space and the programs and none of her. I clicked on the About Us tab on her website, then her name.
Piper Reynard specializes in grief and recovery work. She is the owner of Phoenix Recovery Center, an oasis for all who seek to find mental clarity, spiritual awareness, and emotional healing.
Not much of a bio, and there was no photo of her on that page, which seemed odd. I put her name back into the Google search bar and scanned all the entries. As I scrolled down, I did a double take: Reynard the Trickster. I pulled up a reference page that gave me the background on a medieval character named Reynard the Fox:
Though Reynard is sly, amoral, cowardly, and self-seeking, he is still a sympathetic hero, whose cunning is a necessity for survival.
I sat still, staring at the description. Was Reynard even her real name? Maybe the reason I couldn’t find anything from her past is that she’d changed her name. And if she had, had she deliberately chosen “Reynard” because of its disquieting meaning?
But that was crazy. Certainly, it was just a coincidence. I’d just never met a woman so beautiful who didn’t have at least a flattering headshot somewhere online these days, especially if she had her own business. Had she found a way to erase herself online? And if so, why? What was she hiding?
9
Piper
Piper rushed home after her five o’clock yoga class, grabbed a quick snack of yogurt with fresh blueberries, and went upstairs to shower. She pulled on jeans, slipped into a pair of black sandals, and moved to the full-length mirror. She didn’t like the way the jeans looked with the shoes, so she kicked them off, put on her white canvas boat shoes, and checked herself out again. Perfect. She’d been surprised and pleased when Leo had responded to her text with an invitation to his Memorial Day party last week. But to her disappointment, he had been busy with his duties as host most of the time. Then when he’d finally turned his attention to her, Joanna had cut their conversation short.
It was a short drive to the Town Hall, an imposing yellow building with tall white columns, and once inside, Piper was surprised to see how crowded it was—not one empty seat in the first ten rows. She scanned the room but saw no sign of Leo. Her stomach sank, and for a moment, she thought of leaving. Suddenly, she felt someone take the seat next to hers. His lips parted in a wide smile as he met her eyes.
“You made it,” he whispered.
She nodded. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”
Before they could talk any further, a man walked to the podium, introduced himself, and reviewed the agenda for the meeting. That was followed by a series of boring monologues, mostly the reading of minutes from meetings with state officials, which Piper thought would never end. When the meeting finally came to a close, Leo and Piper both rose, and she stood back as several people clustered around him. One woman was going on and on about a petition she wanted to circulate at her country club, all the while fawning over him. It didn’t look like he’d be free anytime soon, so Piper picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder as she headed toward the exit. Before she’d taken more than five steps, though, she stopped. What was she thinking? She’d waited for this all week, and now she was going to just turn and run? No way. She walked back to where he was and put a hand on his arm.
“Just wanted to say good night,” she said to him, hoping he’d take the hint and extricate himself from the woman.
He held up a finger to Piper, turned to the country club woman, and handed her a card. “I’m afraid I have to call it a night, but please feel free to call or email me about any other concerns you have, okay?”
As they left, Leo turned back to her. “Thanks for sticking around.”
“Well,” she said, “it was an interesting meeting. Thanks for inviting me. I’m going to get going.”