“Good one, Seanie,” said Zoe, turning back to her glasses. “Okay, wait a minute, she just got a text back. It says… ‘Relax. Everything is under control. Forget about T and C. You’re too good for that place. It will all be over Thursday, my love.’”

“What will all be over Thursday?” said Sean, his eyes widening. “This is getting good. Keep watching.”

“Holy moley,” said Zoe, her binoculars laser-focused on the woman’s phone. “What do you think that means?”

“Maybe she’s getting a new job?”

“Hold on, she’s texting again,” said Zoe. “‘My husband is driving me crazy. I want it done now and I hate using this stupid phone you gave me.’”

“What does she want done?” said Sean.

“Wait, she just got another text,” said Zoe, glued to the window. “The name of the person she’s texting with is ‘Sr. Bello’. As the texts went back and forth, Zoe read each one to Sean.

Sr. Bello: Where’s your husband right now?

Woman in the mask: Where he always is, attached to my hip bidding on junk on eBay. I can barely breathe when I’m with him. He deserves whatever he gets.

“What does that mean?” said Zoe, turning away from her binoculars for a second to look at Sean’s equally puzzled face.

“Don’t look at me. Keep watching them,” Sean commanded.

Zoe lifted the binoculars to her eyes again and read the texts to Sean as they appeared.

Sr. Bello — Trust me, it will get done and then we’ll be together.

Woman in the mask — You promise, Thursday is a go? We’ll be together after that?

Sr. Bello — Not right away, have to give it some time. But soon. A few months.

Woman in the mask — By October?

Sr. Bello — Yes.

Woman in the mask — What’s going to happen?

Sr. Bello — Better you don’t know anything. I’ve got everything arranged. I’ll be in touch when it’s all over. Always remember, I love you. Very soon, we’ll be together in our own place.

Woman in the mask — Then I’ll never let you out of bed. Ugh. Going home now with him, unfortunately. XXX.

Zoe looked over at Sean’s face. His mouth was wide open. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he said.

“That the woman in the mask is planning to kill her husband and this Sr. Bello is going to do it,” said an agitated Zoe, her binoculars refocused and zoomed in on the couple on the bench. She looked at the man wearing the NY Rangers mask.

“Now the husband is bidding on a bunch of green glass bowls on eBay and the woman is shopping for thong bathing suits on Amazon,” said Zoe, watching her for a few more moments.

“What is she doing now?”