Chapter 2 - Every Tuesday
Olivia did not confront Evelyn that night.
It took more discipline than she expected.
Instead, she made dinner for Grace.
That alone confused her daughter.
“You don't cook on Tuesdays.”
“I can cook.”
Grace examined the grilled cheese sandwich on her plate.
“You burned it.”
Olivia looked at the blackened corner.
“A little.”
“Evelyn doesn't burn it.”
“Thank you for the review.”
Grace giggled.
The sound steadied Olivia.
She needed facts.
Not panic.
By seven-thirty, Grace was upstairs taking a bath while Olivia sat at the kitchen island with her laptop open.
She checked her household calendar.
Evelyn worked Monday through Friday.
On Tuesdays, she usually collected Grace at 3:10.
Grace's after-school piano lesson began at four.
The music school was eight minutes away.
Plenty of time for a brief meeting.
Olivia checked the last eight Tuesdays.
Something bothered her immediately.
On six of them, Evelyn had sent Olivia nearly identical messages.
Traffic. Piano may start a few minutes late.
Olivia searched further back.
Four months.
Twelve similar messages.
She leaned back.
A pattern.
Nothing illegal.
Nothing conclusive.
Her phone rang.
Evelyn.
Olivia stared at the screen before answering.
“Hello?”
“I wanted to check on Grace.”
“She is fine.”
A pause.
“And you?”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
Evelyn laughed softly.
“That boy upset you.”
“I wouldn't say upset.”
“He certainly frightened Grace.”
“She seemed more curious than frightened.”
Another pause.
Olivia could hear traffic behind Evelyn.
“Where are you?” Olivia asked.
“Home.”
The traffic noise suddenly seemed louder.
“Sounds busy.”
“My windows are open.”
In November?
Olivia glanced at the weather app on her phone.
Forty-nine degrees.
“Right.”
Evelyn cleared her throat.
“Olivia, I hope you don't take what that boy said seriously.”
“I haven't decided what I think.”
“He's been hanging around the school for weeks. Security has removed him before.”
“How do you know?”
Silence.
Only a second.
Maybe less.
But Olivia heard it.
“I've seen them speak to him.”
“You told us today you'd never seen him before.”
“I said I didn't know him.”
“No. You said you'd never seen him.”
Evelyn exhaled.
“Olivia, you're splitting hairs.”
“Perhaps.”
The conversation changed after that.
Evelyn became careful.
Olivia recognized the shift because she had spent fifteen years negotiating with people who became careful when they had something to lose.
Before hanging up, Evelyn said, “I'll see Grace tomorrow morning.”
“No need.”
Another pause.
“I've rearranged my schedule.”
“For how long?”
“I'll let you know.”
Olivia ended the call.
She sat still.
Then she opened her contact list.
She found St. Matthew's head of security, Marcus Bell.
She had met him twice during fundraising events.
She called.
Marcus answered on the fourth ring.
“Ms. Hayes?”
“Sorry to call late.”
“No problem.”
“I need to ask about the boy from this afternoon.”
Silence.
“Jordan.”
“So you know him.”
“Only his first name.”
“You've removed him from school property before?”
“Technically he stays on the public sidewalk.”
“Then why does security bother him?”
Marcus sighed.
“Parents complain.”
“About what?”
“That he's there.”
“Doing what?”
“Usually nothing.”
The answer hit harder than Olivia expected.
Usually nothing.
“Has he ever threatened anyone?”
“No.”
“Stolen anything?”
“Not that we know.”
“Approached children?”
“Sometimes the kids talk to him through the fence.”
“Grace has.”
“I know.”
Olivia sat straighter.
“You know?”
Marcus hesitated.
“He returned her lunchbox once.”
Olivia had no memory of that.
“When?”
“Couple weeks ago. She left it near pickup. Jordan found it.”
“And nobody told me?”
“We gave it to Ms. Parker.”
Evelyn.
“What do you know about his family?”
“Not much. I think his mother stays at a shelter occasionally. They move around.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Ms. Hayes, between us, the kid is rough around the edges, but I've never had a real problem with him.”
“Then why did you grab him today?”
“Because he ran at your vehicle.”
Fair.
Olivia rubbed her forehead.
“Has he ever mentioned Evelyn?”
“No.”
“Has anyone else complained about her?”
“No.”
Another dead end.
Before hanging up, Marcus said something that stayed with her.
“Jordan watches everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“He's outside a lot. Kids like him learn who comes and goes.”
Kids like him.
Olivia didn't ask what that meant.
She understood.
When the call ended, Grace appeared at the kitchen doorway wearing pajamas decorated with yellow moons.
“Mommy?”
“You're supposed to be in bed.”
“I need water.”
Olivia poured a glass.
Grace drank half.
“Can I ask you something?”
Grace nodded.
“When you said Evelyn talks to a man on Tuesdays, where are you?”
“In the car sometimes.”
“She leaves you alone?”
“No.”
Olivia's shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Where, then?”
“Sometimes Mrs. Kelly watches me.”
Mrs. Kelly ran the front office at the music school.
“Does Evelyn tell you where she's going?”
“Coffee.”
“Every Tuesday?”
Grace shrugged.
“Not every Tuesday.”
“What does the man look like?”
“He has silver hair.”
Jordan had said gray.
“Do you know his name?”
“No.”
“Have you heard Evelyn say it?”
Grace thought carefully.
“Maybe Martin?”
Olivia's hand tightened around the glass.
“What?”
“Martin.”
The kitchen seemed to shrink around her.
“Are you sure?”
Grace nodded.
“Or Marty.”
Olivia turned away.
Martin Sloan.
Her former business partner.
The man she had spent six years building Hayes-Sloan Capital with.
The man she hadn't spoken to in fourteen months.
The man who had threatened to destroy her career when their partnership collapsed.
“Mommy?”
Olivia forced herself to look normal.
“Yes?”
“You broke the glass.”
She looked down.
A thin crack ran through the tumbler where she had squeezed it against the edge of the countertop.
She set it down.
“Go upstairs, sweetheart.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Is Evelyn?”
Olivia didn't answer.
After Grace went to bed, Olivia pulled an old photograph from a private folder on her laptop.
A corporate gala.
Two years earlier.
Olivia stood beside Martin Sloan.
Silver hair.
Black tuxedo.
Hard smile.
She zoomed in.
Then she remembered something.
The black car.
Martin drove a black Mercedes S-Class.
At least he used to.
Her heart started pounding.
She searched her messages.
Fourteen months earlier.
Martin's final text after their partnership dissolved.
You think walking away ends this? It doesn't. You took half my life with you. I'll take back what belongs to me.
Olivia had interpreted it as anger.
Business anger.
They had lawyers.
NDAs.
Settlement agreements.
She had blocked him.
Moved on.
Or believed she had.
At 9:42 p.m., an unfamiliar number called.
Olivia almost ignored it.
Then she answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
A boy's voice.
“Ms. Hayes?”
“Jordan?”
“Yeah.”
“You said you didn't have a phone.”
“I borrowed one.”
“From whom?”
“My mom.”
Background noise suggested a public place.
Voices.
A television.
“Jordan, where are you?”
“Doesn't matter.”
“It does if you're calling me about Evelyn.”
He lowered his voice.
“I remembered something.”
Olivia's pulse jumped.
“What?”
“The guy she meets.”
“Yes?”
“I saw his face on your phone before.”
Olivia frowned.
“My phone?”
“You were outside the school once. You were yelling at someone on speaker.”
She remembered.
A heated call with legal counsel.
“I don't understand.”
“The guy's picture popped up when somebody sent you something.”
“Jordan, what are you saying?”
“I think you know him.”
Olivia closed her eyes.
“Does his name happen to be Martin?”
Jordan went quiet.
Then:
“I don't know his name.”
“Jordan—”
“But that's not why I called.”
Olivia waited.
“I found something after they met last week.”
“What?”
“I didn't steal it.”
The speed of the denial told her he had been worried she would think exactly that.
“I didn't say you did.”
“It was on the ground.”
“What was?”
“A phone.”
Olivia stopped breathing.
“One of those cheap ones.”
“Do you still have it?”
Jordan didn't answer.
“Jordan.”
“Yeah.”
“Turn it on.”
“I did.”
“What's on it?”
His voice changed.
He sounded frightened now.
“There are messages about you.”
Olivia stood.
“What messages?”
“I don't understand all of them.”
“Read one.”
Silence.
Then Jordan spoke slowly.
“Tuesday confirmed. Hayes leaving school pickup early. Driver taking G to piano.”
Olivia gripped the kitchen counter.
“Another.”
Jordan swallowed.
“Prescott moved to four. She'll take call from home.”
Olivia's skin went cold.
Prescott.
Nobody outside Olivia's inner circle should have known.
“Jordan, listen carefully. Do not show that phone to anyone.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to see it.”
“I told you I didn't steal it.”
“I believe you.”
Another silence.
This one longer.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
Olivia grabbed her coat.
May you like
“Tell me where you are.”
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