Chapters (75)
Kevin cut the manager’s question off with an abrupt wave of his hand. He leaned his face closer to the screen, backtracked, zoomed in, and hit play. And there she was walking down the aisle as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He watched her bend over and pick up a bag of something off the lower shelf.
“Flour,” Joseph said. He had edged closer to see what had caught Kevin’s eye. “Ten pound . . . white flour. Not whole wheat—that’s farther down.”
Kevin paused the tape, impatient irritation flaring as he swiveled in the cheap office chair and stared at him. “What in the world are you babbling about?”
“I . . . I . . .” The store manager blanched and took a quick step backward. “I like . . . uh . . . reading mysteries, suspense, crime fiction, and . . .” He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes in the books, the most inconsequential details are the most important.” Once Joseph’s mouth started flapping, he seemed unable to stop it. “I don’t know if that’s the case here, but it looks like she picked up a ten-pound bag of flour. From where she’s standing, I’d say it’s a toss-up between Gold Medal or King Arthur.” Joseph tipped his chin toward the screen. “Is she the one you’re looking for? What’d she do? Murder? Robbery? Is she a con artist? A drug dealer on the run?”
No. She’s my lying, cheating, two-faced wife, Kevin wanted to bellow, but he didn’t, just bit out between clenched teeth, “Sorry. It’s classified.” He turned back to the computer and clicked play.
“I get it.” Joseph took a step back, jiggling the spare change in his khaki slacks. They watched in silence as Sarah continued down the aisle. She stopped again and put a smaller object into the cart. “Sugar,” Joseph murmured. “Five-pound bag.”
Kevin ignored him, kept his gaze trained on Sarah as she approached the overhead security camera. It was her. No question about it. The glasses obscured her eyes, the hair color was different, but that was the way she moved. That’s how she tilts her head . . . That’s her smile . . . On the heels of that thought, anger crashed white hot, like a bolt of lightning incinerating everything in its path, because as her image became clearer and clearer, one thing was inescapably obvious: she seemed happier, lighter than he’d ever seen her, and how fucking dare she.
“This is so fascinating,” Joseph chirruped. “You’d never guess that chick’s got the law on her tail. Looks like a frikkin’ Sunday school teacher. I’d tap that for sure. Bet she’s wild as all getup between the sheets.” It took everything Kevin had not to plow his fist into the dipshit’s face and rearrange his features.