The Other Man

“No, no, don’t,” I said instantly, ears tuned to the front of my house as I inched my way there.  “Just stay with me for a minute, okay?  I’m feeling jumpy.  I need to hear your voice.”

There was a long pause on his end, then, “Mom, you sound scared.  What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.  But don’t hang up just yet, okay?”

“I won’t.  And I’ll do one better.  I’m coming over.”

I barely heard him.  I’d reached the front door.  A glance through the peephole was not reassuring.

Some strange man was there, wearing all black, his arms folded across his chest.

After what I’d just found, the last thing I was going to do was open my door to a strange man.

And then he spoke, calling out loudly so I’d hear him through the door.  “Lourdes!  Open up.  Heath sent me.”

I started to, then hesitated.  How on earth was I supposed to know if that was true?

“I’m Mason,” he added.

I did recall the name.  I’d heard Heath say it once, only in passing, when he’d told his sister someone named Mason was waiting for her, but it’d left an impression because he talked about so few people.

“I work with him,” he continued, his voice even at that volume, like he was used to yelling.  “He just barely got your messages, and he’ll be here in about eight hours.  In the meantime, he wanted me to check to see what was upsetting you.  What is it that you found that’s freaking you out?  He said if you wouldn’t let me in to tell you he has something sweet to say to you, just as soon as he gets here.  He said that’d mean something to you.”

It did.  I opened the door slowly, eyeing up the stranger I was about to let into my house.

He was big with dark hair and eyes, tan skin, and a heavy five o’clock shadow on his hard jaw.

He held up his hands in the universal sign for I’m not a threat.  The thing is, if you’re a huge man wearing a gun it just doesn’t work.

“You can just tell me from here, if it makes you more comfortable.  I was sent because of your call, that’s all.  I’m here to help you, however you need.”

Watching his eyes, which were warm and kind and hearing his voice lowered down from a shout, all helped to put me at ease.  I was starting to believe that this guy was who he said he was and began to feel guilty for doubting him.

“I found something in my house that I know for a fact I threw in the trash days ago.”

“What is it and where did you find it?” he asked.

I sighed.  If he knew about the calls, he probably knew about the pregnancy by now, too.  “Five home pregnancy tests, ones that I had used and thrown out in my trashcan, lined up on my bathroom counter.”

He whistled.  “That’s definitely not normal.  And you thought it was Lisa?”

“I don’t know her name.”  I described her in detail.

He nodded.  “That’s Lisa.  I can promise you it was not her.  She was taken off this detail, now I’m on it.  She’s nowhere near here, so if this happened today, that’s impossible.  Can I take a look?”

I grimaced, and let him, stewing as I followed him through my house.  If it wasn’t her, Lisa, than I was fresh out of ideas.

He didn’t touch anything when we reached my bathroom, just studied it closely for a long time.

“Heath’s the father?” he finally asked, his tone unreadable.

I flushed, but answered, “Yes.”

“You’re certain?”

I couldn’t really blame him for asking, here he was investigating an odd situation for me, and if he’d been the one spying on me recently, he knew that up until mere days ago, I’d been seeing someone else.  But still, it smarted a bit.

I tried not to make my voice sharp when I answered, “Absolutely.”

He just nodded, like that settled an issue, and went back to studying.

“I guess the whole idea of privacy sort of flies out the window when you date a man like Heath,” I said, tone light, though in truth I was still coming to terms with that.

“You guess right.  But, you know, it’s all for your safety.”  He waved his hand at the objects on the counter.

Finally he spoke again, “Has anything else in your house been tampered with?  Anything been taken or moved?”

I thought about it, glancing around my room.  My house was neat enough, it wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t particularly organized, either.  I had a lot of stuff, especially in my master suite—clothes, shoes, jewelry, lingerie that never got to be properly utilized.

“I haven’t noticed anything,” I said slowly, “but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been.  I hadn’t thought of it.  I wasn’t looking for anything like that.  I only saw this because it stood out.”

“Will you look around now?  Take inventory?  Tell me if anything seems off.  Any detail would be helpful.”

I nodded and began a meticulous search through my house, starting with my closet.

I didn’t even know how many shoes I owned.  I only noticed that a pair was missing because they were my favorite.

My black Lady Peep Louboutins were gone, a cubby on my shoe wall empty.  Whoever had taken them hadn’t even tried to hide it.