PART 2 – THE WOMAN ON THE PHONE KNEW MY HUSBAND

“Is this Nora Blake?” the woman asked.
“Yes.”
There was a brief silence.
“I know this call is unexpected,” she continued. “My name is Caroline Weber. I’m a private investigator.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“I think you have the wrong number.”
“I don’t.”
She sounded calm, professional.
“I was hired six months ago to locate someone named Elise Hartmann.”
The name hit me like ice water.
I looked around the coffee shop. People were chatting over breakfast, tapping on laptops, laughing over things that suddenly felt very far away from my world.
“You know Elise?” I asked carefully.
“I’ve never met her.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because your husband became part of my investigation.”
I gripped my coffee cup so tightly my fingers hurt.
“I don’t understand.”
“I imagine there are many things you don’t understand yet, Mrs. Blake.”
My heartbeat quickened.
“I can’t discuss confidential information over the phone. But before I decide whether to continue this conversation, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Are you aware that your husband has been seeing Elise Hartmann?”

 

I closed my eyes.

Yesterday I would have answered no.

Today…

“I have reason to believe he has.”

Another pause.

“I was afraid of that,” Caroline said quietly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re probably the last person who was supposed to know.”

A waitress walked past and offered to refill my coffee.

I shook my head.

My hands were shaking too badly to hold another cup.

“Who hired you?” I asked.

“I’m sorry. I can’t answer that.”

“Is Elise really pregnant?”

Caroline didn’t respond immediately.

When she finally spoke, her words were careful.

“I think that’s a question you deserve answered by evidence, not rumors.”

Evidence.

Not rumors.

The wording stayed with me.

“So you don’t know?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You aren’t answering me.”

“No.”

I let out a slow breath.

“Then why call me?”

“Because yesterday evening someone tried very hard to convince me to stop looking for Elise.”

The room suddenly felt colder.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“The person who contacted me mentioned your name.”

My stomach twisted.

“What exactly did they say?”

“They said that if I cared about innocent people, I should leave Mrs. Nora Blake out of this.”

I stared at the rain beginning to fall outside the café window.

No one should have known Caroline even existed.

Unless…

Someone had been watching her.

“Who called you?”

“I don’t know. The number was blocked.”

“Woman or man?”

“A man.”

“Did it sound like Felix?”

“I’ve never spoken to your husband.”

I swallowed.

“Then how did you find my number?”

“Public records.”

That answer sounded truthful.

“So what do you want from me?”

“I’d like to meet you.”

“No.”

“I understand why you’re hesitant.”

“I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

The answer surprised me.

“You shouldn’t trust anyone right now.”

Including me.

Including your husband.

Including anyone who suddenly starts acting helpful.”

I felt the tiny hairs on my arms stand up.

“You think I’m in danger?”

“I think you’re being lied to.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No.”

Her voice became softer.

“But sometimes it becomes the same thing.”

She gave me the address of a small bookstore across town.

“Tomorrow.”

“Two o’clock.”

“If you don’t come, I’ll assume you’ve decided to stay out of it.”

“And if I do come?”

“I’ll show you why I spent six months looking for Elise.”

The call ended.

I sat motionless.

For nearly ten minutes.

Then I opened my notebook again.

Under yesterday’s list of German sentences, I wrote one more line.

Private investigator. Six months. Someone wants Elise hidden.

Before leaving the café, I opened our shared banking app on my phone.

I wasn’t looking for proof anymore.

I was looking for patterns.

Most expenses were ordinary.

Mortgage.

Utilities.

Groceries.

Restaurants.

Then I noticed something I had never questioned before.

Every “business trip” included the exact same charge.

A parking garage.

Not at the airport.

Downtown.

The amount never changed.

Twenty-four dollars.

Eleven trips.

The same garage.

The same charge.

The same time of day.

No airport parking lot charged exactly the same amount every single trip.

I zoomed in on the first transaction.

Then the second.

Then the seventh.

Each receipt listed the same address.

An address less than fifteen minutes from our home.

Not three states away where Felix claimed his conferences had been.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Felix.

“Morning, sweetheart. Hope you’re feeling better. Mom says she forgot to send you home with some cake yesterday. We’ll stop by tonight after dinner.”

I read the message twice.

Then I looked at the address on the receipt again.

For the first time in ten years…

I wasn’t afraid of what I was going to discover.

I was afraid of how long it had already been happening.

PART 3 – THE PARKING GARAGE LED SOMEWHERE FELIX NEVER MENTIONED

I spent the next hour studying every transaction from the past twelve months.

The pattern never changed.

Whenever Felix claimed he was flying to Chicago, Denver, or Seattle for work, the same parking garage appeared on our bank statement.

Twenty-four dollars.

Always between 8:00 and 9:00 in the morning.

Always followed by gas purchased at a station less than two miles away.

Not once did I find airport parking.

Not once.

For years, I had accepted every business trip without question.

Now every receipt felt like another lie.

I copied each transaction into my notebook.

Date.

Time.

Location.

Amount.

By the time I finished, I had eleven identical entries.

Eleven lies.

My phone rang again.

Felix.

I let it ring twice before answering.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound sleepy.

“You sound better.”

“I rested.”

“I’m glad.”

His voice was warm.

Comforting.

The same voice that had promised, only three weeks earlier, that we would never stop trying for a family.

“I’ve got meetings all afternoon,” he said. “I probably won’t be home until late.”

“Another busy day?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I hope it goes well.”

“I love you.”

There it was.

The sentence I had heard thousands of times.

Today it sounded rehearsed.

“I love you too,” I replied.

The lie left my mouth easier than I expected.

…

By early afternoon, I was sitting in my car across the street from the parking garage.

It wasn’t attached to an airport.

It wasn’t even close.

It stood beside a quiet block filled with apartment buildings, medical offices, and a small grocery store.

People came and went without attracting attention.

No one looked suspicious.

Least of all me.

I kept my sunglasses on and waited.

At exactly 2:17 p.m., a silver SUV entered the garage.

A few minutes later, another car pulled into the visitor lot beside it.

A woman stepped out.

Blonde.

Tall.

Large sunglasses.

She rested one hand on her stomach before walking toward the garage entrance.

Even from across the street, I noticed she moved carefully.

Protectively.

Pregnant.

My pulse quickened.

Could that be Elise?

I reached for my phone.

Then stopped.

No.

One photograph wouldn’t prove anything.

I needed certainty.

The woman disappeared inside.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Twenty.

No one came back out.

I crossed the street.

The elevator doors were opening just as I reached the entrance.

An elderly couple stepped out.

No blonde woman.

I pressed the button and rode to the fourth floor.

Rows of parked cars stretched in every direction.

Quiet.

Almost empty.

Then I noticed a blue sedan parked near the far corner.

I knew that car.

I had helped Felix choose it three years earlier.

My husband had told me it was sitting in a hotel parking lot two states away.

Instead…

It was less than fifteen minutes from our house.

I stood perfectly still.

His conference badge was hanging from the rearview mirror.

The same badge he had shown me before leaving yesterday morning.

He had never taken it off.

I took several pictures.

The license plate.

The badge.

The parking ticket.

The dashboard clock.

Everything.

Then footsteps echoed across the concrete floor.

I ducked behind a support column.

The elevator opened.

Felix stepped out.

He wasn’t alone.

The blonde woman walked beside him.

She laughed at something he whispered.

Then he reached down and gently placed his hand on her stomach.

Not for a second.

Not by accident.

He smiled in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

A smile filled with excitement.

Pride.

Hope.

She covered his hand with hers.

“I think she kicked again,” the woman said softly.

“I can’t wait to meet our little girl,” Felix replied.

Our little girl.

The words hollowed something inside me.

For six years, I had imagined hearing him say something like that about our child.

Instead…

He was saying it to someone else.

The woman looked up at him.

“Are you sure your wife doesn’t suspect anything?”

Felix laughed.

“Nora?”

He actually chuckled.

“She still thinks I was in Cleveland yesterday.”

The woman frowned.

“I don’t like lying to her.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll handle everything.”

“And your parents?”

“They’re already on our side.”

She hesitated.

“What if Nora refuses?”

Felix smiled with complete confidence.

“She won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because she wants a baby more than she wants the truth.”

The words hit harder than the affair itself.

For him…

My greatest heartbreak had become a weapon.

The woman lowered her eyes.

“I still feel guilty.”

“You’ll get over it.”

Felix kissed her forehead.

Then they walked toward a gray apartment building connected to the garage by a covered walkway.

I waited until they disappeared inside before I dared breathe again.

My hands were trembling so badly I almost dropped my phone.

I looked at the photographs I had just taken.

For the first time…

I had proof.

Not suspicions.

Not translations.

Proof.

As I turned back toward the elevator, I noticed a small security camera mounted above the exit.

Its red light blinked steadily.

Someone had just recorded everything.

Including me.

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