CH 24
Calvin
He was standing in his office looking at his phone and the trending topic that had started that afternoon,
when Wil rushed into his office. “Don’t even think about it.” He burst out as the door banged shut to Calvin’s
office behind him.
“Too late,” he muttered as he looked at the woman in the pictures. There were several shots of her now and
the headline read “Is Marrin Reeves alive? And back in Houston?”
“Calvin, it’s not her. I’ve already checked. That woman is an author of 10 years now. Her name is Marilyn
Riddley. She hails from Virginia.”
“Looks an awful lot like Marrin,” he muttered as he stared at her photo.
“I know, but she’s not,” Wil stated. “She’s been writing books for 10 years. That’s before Marrin went missing. Before you divorced her, you can actually google the woman, and see her first books when they were published everything both online and in print.” Wil told him and reached out and put his hand over Calvin’s
phone.
“Anabell went and got her book signed, the one Marrin gave her even, the handwriting is an exact match. From eight years ago. So, that is not Marrin. I looked at the book myself, because Anabell was nearly dumbfounded when standing before her. She also didn’t know who Anabell was. No recognition.” Wil went on.
“You think it’s a mere coincidence?” Calvin asked doubtfully.
“Yes, purely coincidental.” Wil nodded. “Let it go, please.”
“And she just happens to come here to Houston, where I live. She’s going to be like all the other women that
look like Marrin.”
“No, she’s not. She’s on a book tour, and has been for six weeks. I can even tell you where she’s been on that tour. Like I said, Calvin, I checked into her myself. It’s not her.”
He didn’t know. This was the only woman he’d ever seen that really truly actual, oked like his ex–wife. “I still want to meet her,” he stated, “When and where is the book signing?”
“Calvin leave her alone, it’s not Marrin. Anabell will tell you as well, she met her, in New York at the first book
signing.”
“So, what you’re saying is.” Calvin looked right at him now, more than annoyed by those words. “You’ve known about this for six weeks,” he bit out, “and said nothing to me at all.”
“You’re taking it the wrong way, Calvin. I have spent the past six weeks vetting the woman to see if it was Marrin, and if I’d found out it was Marrin I would have told you,” Wil stated.
Calvin wondered about that for a long moment, considering the man’s thoughts on the woman, that she’d not staged anything, that she’d actually been in an accident herself during that phone call. That she’d been calling him, to let him know she wasn’t on the plane, that she was alright. The complete opposite to his own thoughts on the matter. So would Wil tell him to stop him from going to that woman and confronting her? “I’m your best friend Calvin, I would tell you if I found Marrin. Hell, I wouldn’t even tell Marrin I knew it was her, Just walk in here and hand you and address and state, I found her. Do you really think I would hide
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something like that from you? Knowing what you would likely do to me, for hiding her if I found her.”
“I’d beat you to death,” Calvin muttered.
+8 Points >
“I know that,” Wil nodded. “How about we just leave her alone? You’re worried this woman will be like all the rest. Well, that’s easy to test out. Don’t do anything. She’ll come to you if she’s like all of them. Tell everyone she’s your dead wife. Like they all did. Right.” Wil put to him.
Calvin sighed, and nodded that was true. Everyone of those women had done that, turned up at his office or a police station, a hospital and claimed to be his missing wife, that they’d miraculously escaped the plane crash, but couldn’t recall who they were until years later. He hated every bloody one of them.
“Fine.” He finally muttered and sat down, and he saw Wil visibly relax, and then just sink down on another chair and stare at him for a long moment.
“I didn’t think I was going to be able to talk you out of it for a minute there,” he muttered.
Calvin didn’t think so either. His eyes moved back to his phone and he was once again reading the threads about this look–alike. One of them stated, “Do you think Calvin Reeves knows?” He clicked his phone’s screen off only to have his own mother call him. He sighed heavily, and hit the answer button. “I’m aware mother. It’s
now.” not her Wil has vetted the woman; She’s been an author for 10 years
“She looks just like how I would picture her after all this time.” His mother murmured “No body Calvin.” She sighed.
He closed his eyes and wondered if it was time to out the truth of the situation; that he’d divorced Marrin only to have her disappear. But he’d kept that to himself. Only three people knew other than the judge that had approved the divorce.
“It’s not her,” he repeated himself, and didn’t know if he was trying to convince her or himself at this point. Go meet her if you like, see for yourself. Anabell has come face to face with her. Wil stated she did recognise
her.”
His mother huffed, “Anything could have happened to her. She might not even know…”
“Enough.” He snapped at her, knew what she was going to say and didn’t wan hear it, clicked the line closed “f*****g amnesia.” He snarled into the room. “Like that would work on me. They all f*****g have
amnesia.”
He headed home that night still angry about that woman being here in his city, turning his hometown upside down. His own family had been on him all day. His mother and then his father had called. His bloody sister had rung him. All of them wanted him to go and see the woman for himself, to see if it was her.
No amount of telling them it wasn’t her worked. She looked too much like Marrin for them to be able to ignore it. So much so, that his own mother had now gotten one of Marrin’s photos and had it aged eight years, and sent it to him in an email, the picture of Marrin from when they were married, the aged photo and a photo of Marilyn Riddley, all lined up next to each other.
The damned picture was near on identical, and now that was in his head, he was trying to do what Wil stated: let it go, to wait and see if she was like all the rest. Would she try and cling on to him because she looked exactly like Marrin?
He’d checked on the list of this Marilyn Riddley’s book tour places, and found out she’d been in Boston when he had been, and he’d thought he’d seen her. He recalled the woman with her stating the name, Marilyn as
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43 Forsts
well, but now it itched at him, because he also knew she smelled the same, wore the same perfume as Marrin did, or was it maybe that other lady.
He was up looking at where her book signing was going to be. It wasn’t hard to find, and anyone could go and get a signed copy of her book. All they had to do was line up and wait their turn.
“Sorry Wil.” He muttered into his penthouse apartment, because he just couldn’t leave it alone, he needed to know. To come face to face with this woman, if it was Marrin, she was risking his wrath coming back here, and there was no way she wouldn’t know who he was. He’d not miss the recognition in her eyes.
She’d been married to him for three damned years and the s*x had been damned good. She always looked at him, he knew every inflection in her light blue eyes, the way she looked when uncomfortable, was uncertain about something, annoyed, happy, excited and upset as well. He would know if it was her. He just needed to get up close to her was all.
He was certain she was going to be expecting him to turn up as well, likely to look at him like she had that one time in the stairwell at Wil’s place, before she’d had the hide to tell him she wasn’t his anymore.
Well, she was bloody his, even now not here next to him. If he found her, he would make her bloody stand next to him once more, punish her for what she’d done to him, Drag her back from the dead and put her on his arm where she didn’t want to be. Make her think about him for the next bloody eight years and see how she liked it.
Only this time he wouldn’t fall in love with her, wouldn’t bloody touch her, parade her around like the perfect wife once more and then shove her back to that house until he needed to use her again.
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