Aaron found on his return to the office that he didn’t care about it anymore. He only cared about one thing, and that was Cathy. The irony wasn’t lost on him when he cancelled meetings with clients because he wasn’t up for them. He should have rescheduled the golf game. For his relationship’s sake. For the love of his life.
Aaron muddled through his days at the office. Marsha was especially attentive, fussing over him constantly until he couldn’t take it anymore. One day, she reached to straighten his tie before a meeting, something she had done in the past, and he knocked her hand away. The look of hurt in her eyes stayed with him for a while.
The only client Aaron cared about was Mrs. Davidson, and it wasn’t because he wanted her to stay with him after he formed his own company. It was because he knew she was a good person who relied on him and his expertise. He didn’t want to let her down.
One evening at dinner, he opened up to her about his cancelled wedding. She had been too kind to ask him about it, but she listened intently as he talked. He was completely honest with her about everything.
“And you have no idea who could have set you up like that?” Mrs. Davidson asked. “An old girlfriend, perhaps?”
“I’m on good terms with all of my girlfriends,” Aaron said. “At least I think I am. But the killer is that photo with the tie in it. I don’t know how that happened.”
“That has me stumped, too,” she said. “Who all knew about the tie?”
“I guess a lot of people. I was pretty proud of it when Cathy gave it to me, so I must have bragged whenever I got a compliment. I did get a lot of compliments on it—from women, of course.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Davidson said with a little laugh.
“I think you should hire a private detective,” Mrs. Davidson said. “Let him or her do the thinking for you.”
Aaron had thought about that in the days following Cathy’s departure. He would do it now.
The next day, Aaron contacted a private detective his firm had used in the past. He told him his story.
“I need you to give me the name of every woman you’ve been with in the last ten years,” Randy Frazer said. “Any woman who would know about your Johnson.”
“I’ll email it to you,” Aaron said, cringing.
“And anyone who knew about the tie,” he said. “Even if you think it’s not important.”
“Okay,” Aaron said.
“Do you know where she got the tie?” Randy asked.
“It was some specialty English store but I can’t remember the name right now.”
“Let me know if you do remember it,” Randy said.
Two hours later, Aaron emailed Randy a list of women he had been with over the past ten years. He was embarrassed, not because of Randy Frazer, but for himself, that the list had fifteen names on it, along with any information about each one he could remember.
“What about the tie?” Randy emailed back. “And send me a scan of it. I might be able to pass it around and get some idea where it came from.”
An hour after that, Aaron emailed Randy a list of people he thought had seen the tie. That included clients, friends, and staff people. He had no idea what Randy was going to do with that information.
“Let me know if you remember any other people,” Randy wrote back. “I’ll start working on this right away.”
The holidays were so difficult that Aaron preferred not to think about them. Lonely nights, desperate thoughts. New Year’s Eve had been the worst because he fully remembered that had been the night he told Cathy he loved her. He had never said that to a woman in his entire life. Even the ones he had dated for several months. He had never found anyone he loved before. Aaron was searching for his true love, someone who would stand by him like his parents stood together through thick and thin. Cathy was that woman.
Randy Frazer called him once a week to report his findings, which were meager. He had found out that seven of the women Aaron had dated were married, four of them with children and one of them pregnant. Only two still lived in the Atlanta area.
“Just because they’re married doesn’t mean they don’t have it in for you,” Randy said. “I’d say it makes it less likely, though. I’ll keep doing background checks on them and hunt down the rest of the list.”
*************************
When Aaron returned to the office after the New Year’s, he had made his decision. He called Marsha into his office.
“I’ve decided to leave Peachtree Financial,” he told her.
Marsha’s lip trembled. “But I thought you were going out on your own and that you were taking me with you,” she said.
Aaron had never said that to Marsha, though he probably would have taken her with him. She was the best secretary he’d ever had. Hell, she was more than a secretary. She anticipated his needs before he even thought of them himself. She was his right hand.
“I’m sorry, Marsha,” he said gently. He had not been kind to her since his break-up, he supposed because she was the closest one to him and he took it out on her in a way.
“I don’t want to work in this business anymore,” he said. “I’m sure the company will keep you on, or I’ll give you a stellar reference if you want to move on to another firm.”
“I don’t know,” Marsha said in a small voice. She turned and left his office. He walked down to the president’s office to tell him the news. Matt Cranshaw kept him in his office for an hour trying to talk him out of it. Aaron didn’t budge. He had much more important things to do with his life.
“You know how it’s done in financial places,” Matt said as he shook Aaron’s hand in his doorway. “You leave the day you say you want to leave.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “I’m going to pack up my office now. Thanks for everything.”
Marsha held a tissue to her nose when he walked toward her. He stopped at her desk.
“It’s okay, Marsha,” he said soothingly. “You’ll be better off without this old bear in your face everyday.”
“I doubt that,” she said.
He actually had very little in his office to take away. He wasn’t the type to display photographs, so there were none of those. He had a few gift items, like an engraved paperweight, given to him over his years there, but not much else. He shoved it all into his briefcase and went through the doors of Peachtree Financial Consultants for the last time. When he got home, he called Mrs. Davidson and told her what had happened.
“I’m sure they’ll take good care of you there,” Aaron told her.
“I’m not so sure of that at all,” she said. “But you’ve got to live your life. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to do the only thing I can do. Find Cathy.”
*************************
Aaron stayed in the house for ten more days, long enough to take care of business. He moved his expensive suits into storage, though he couldn’t see a time when he would wear them again. He kept one gray suit to take with him on his trip. He moved Cathy’s boxes into storage, including her wedding dress.
When he wasn’t packing and storing things, he spent his time on the Internet searching for a place to rent. He contacted several realtors in the area and said he was looking for something on Bayside Road. There was a lot available in the off-season. He wrote down every address given to him, then compared it to the address of Cathy’s grandfather’s property. He swooped down on the area with Google Maps, but nothing seemed close enough to his destination. He was going to have to get something further away and just deal with it. Then he got a call from a realtor he’d left a message with several days earlier.
“I’ve got something you might like, but it’s for sale, not for rent. It’s a fixer-upper, so it’s cheap for these parts. But it’s on the bay, so it’ll still cost you,” the realtor said.
Aaron wrote down the address and went back to Google Maps. He already knew it would be closer than anything else.
An acre of woods separated the house from his target.
The online listing featured twenty-three photographs of the house and property. It was a Victorian built at the turn of the twentieth century. The photos showed shabby rooms in need of updates, but the bones were good. The views of the bay were spectacular.
“I’ll need to be assured of the utmost in confidentiality,” Aaron told the realtor, Manly Simmons. “This is to be a private retreat for me and my wife and I don’t want our business splattered all over the place,” Aaron said.
“Confidentiality is not a problem,” Manly assured him.
“How long has it been on the market?” Aaron asked.
“Nearly two years,” Manly said. “It’s been empty for longer than that. Three siblings inherited it from their parents, and they’re eager to get rid of it.”
“Tell them I’ll give them the asking price if the systems check out, less if they don’t,” Aaron said. Normally, he would have negotiated like the shrewd businessman he was, but he needed that house more than he needed to feed his ego.
Aaron paced through the house that day, waiting to hear back from Manly. He finally fell asleep on the couch out of sheer emotional exhaustion.
Manly called at nine-thirty the next morning.
“Sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. The siblings don’t all live in the same place and they had to confer. They’ll take your deal. I’ve arranged to have the house inspected this afternoon.”
Aaron stepped outside into the landscaped back yard surrounded by hardwoods on all sides. He kept his phone close to him in his shirt pocket. His logical brain told him he was being foolish to chase after a woman who had left him a week before their wedding, a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. His business brain told him he was making a bad investment in a house he was buying sight unseen that needed a lot of refurbishment. He was taking a big risk, buying another house when he had this Craftsman already paid for.
But his heart told him he had to know that Cathy was all right. He had to find a way to get her back to him. He would risk everything for her, pay any amount of money, no matter how foolish.
Manly called him back at four-thirty.
“The parents replaced all of the systems eight years ago,” Manly said. “They thought they’d be there for a long time, but they both died a few years later. The house looks like hell, but the systems are good.”
“Send me the contract,” Aaron said.
Then Aaron made the hardest phone call.
“Sissy?” he said when Sherry answered the phone.
“How are you Aaron?” his big sister said. “We’ve been worried about you.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Okay,” she said a little warily.
“You know that family LLC I formed for Starlight Farms?”
“Yeah. Mom was so happy with that name you gave it.”
“I need you to sign a contract for me on it,” Aaron said. “I gave you signature rights, remember?”
“I guess so,” Sherry said. “We’ve never really done anything with the LLC, so I don’t really think about it.”
“I’m buying a house in Florida and I need you to sign the sales contract as a representative of Starlight Farms.”
“What are you doing, Aaron?” Sherry asked.
“I’m buying a house next door to where Cathy went,” he said. “I’ve got to see what’s going on with her.”
“This is sounding a little stalkerish,” Sherry said. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I love her,” Aaron said simply.
Sherry sighed. “Okay. Send me the contract and I’ll sign it. Can we do it by email? I can sign and scan and send it right back to you?”
“Definitely,” he said.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said.
“I do know what I’m doing,” he said.
“Because it sounds a little crazy to me,” Sherry said.
He could always count on Sherry to keep it real.
“I know. I’ll call you before I email you the papers.”
Aaron spent the next day contacting the realtor who had sold him the Craftsman. He told her he needed to sell it right away.
“But you just got there,” Melinda Howton, the realtor said with a little whine.
“If you’d rather I list with someone else. . . .” Aaron let her think about that for a millisecond. His selling the house so soon was none of her business.
“No, of course not,” Melinda said. “We probably can’t even make your money back, but I’ll list it for fifty thousand more than you paid and we’ll go from there.”
“I won’t be here in a few days. The house will be empty. Call me on my cell with any offers.”
Aaron fell asleep on the couch, as he had every night since Cathy left. He couldn’t bear to sleep in the bed. He woke up early, staring at the green-tiled fireplace. Everything in the house was packed except for the couch, the bed, the coffeemaker, and a package of plastic cups. His life had become barren in every way.
He was sipping a hot cup of coffee when Manly called.
“Mr. Smith?” he said. Aaron nearly choked on his coffee. He had been using the name Richard Smith when he called the realtors, and it was a name that was going to stick.
“Yes,” he said.
“I’ve emailed you the contract, which the siblings have already signed,” he said. “That was not an easy thing to accomplish.”
Aaron really didn’t care how easy or hard that was. Manly stood to make a nice commission on the sale of the Victorian.
“I’ll get my wife to sign it and email it back to you as soon as possible,” he said.
In this case, Sherry Smith, was going to be his wife as far as anyone in Monmarte Bay knew. Even though Manly had promised confidentiality, Aaron wasn’t taking any chances. He was too familiar with human nature to be that foolish.
By the end of that day, the signatures were in place, the money was wired, and the sale was complete. Manly would leave the house keys under the mat at the front door. Aaron might never even meet Manly in person. He hoped that was the case. It was safer that way.
Early the next morning, Melinda stuck a For Sale sign in the front yard. She came inside wearing her red business suit and click clacked her way through the bottom floor, before she stepped up to the upper, carpeted floor where her loud heels stopped making noise.
“I’ll just use the photos of the house we had before since you haven’t made any changes,” she said. “Are you leaving today?”
“Yes,” Aaron told her. “Just as soon as I can take care of a few things.”
After Melinda left, Aaron drove his Mercedes to the dealer and traded it in for a used white SUV. He had a feeling that his Mercedes would stick out where he was going.
He stopped by his bank and withdrew ten thousand dollars in cash in fifties and tens. Back at the house, he packed the SUV with two large suitcases, a duffel bag, and his laptop. In a final round through the house, he picked up Cathy’s engagement ring where he had stored it in the bathroom vanity and put it on his key ring. It had killed him to see the ring lying on the counter that last day. That had told him that Cathy really considered their relationship to be over. She loved that ring. She could have kept the ring, of course, but Cathy would never do that.
He closed the door on the empty house for the last time. And then, on a rainy day in late January, he set the GPS and drove all the way to Monmarte Bay, stopping once at a Wal-Mart in a city he couldn’t name to buy binoculars, and once to get a hamburger.
Chapter Ten
After dark that day, Aaron turned off the Interstate that ran parallel to the beach. Then minutes later, he passed through the little town of Monmarte Bay. The street was lit with gaslights and he could see activity at a couple of restaurants, but otherwise, the town was shut down for the night.
He turned where the GPS told him to and drove for a few minutes. He watched the mailboxes on the left-hand side of the
road, the bay side. He passed 113 and slowed down. That was Cathy’s grandfather’s property. His heart started to thump and his breathing became shallow when he realized he was in the vicinity of Cathy. She was somewhere down that driveway, but he had no idea what she was doing.
A couple of hundred yards down the road, he spotted 115 and pulled into the long driveway. There were no city lights to guide his way. He just kept driving until he saw a house looming up ahead of him.
The house was dark, everything was dark, and Aaron cursed himself for not having a flashlight. The half moon gave enough light for him to find the porch and feel under the mat for the keys. He opened the door and felt to the right of the inside wall for a light switch.
Miraculously, an overhead light came on revealing an empty room. The floors beneath him were some kind of wood. He went further into the house, flipping the light switches as he went. In the harsh light, Aaron could see that the house was in need of paint. He walked all the way through the house, up the stairs to the bedrooms, into the bathrooms. Not a stick of furniture graced the old Painted Lady. There was not a bed or a couch to lay his head on. The floors were all hard.
Aaron went back outside and opened the back of his SUV. He pushed the back seats down and crawled in. Hungry and a little cold, he fell asleep in his car.
His muscles were aching when he woke up at dawn’s light. His cell said it was just after six. There was no choice but to go into Fort Walton and buy some furniture and supplies. He really hadn’t planned things very well at all, and that wasn’t like him. But he had not been like himself for months now, ever since Cathy left.
In the early light, the house was a dingy white, with paint worn or peeling. There was no in between. Aaron didn’t even bother to go inside. He went around to the back and found a bush to pee in. Back there, in the yard, he could faintly see the sun rising over the bay. He could make out the pier that was a part of his new property. But all of that would have to wait. He needed food and a bed.
Obsessed With You Page 6
