Mr.
Moretti slid one finger beneath the flap of the envelope.
I grabbed his wrist.
The movement surprised both of us.
For years, I had learned not to touch an angry man, not to interrupt, not to challenge, not to put my hands anywhere that might be interpreted as resistance.
Yet there I was, thirty thousand feet above the ground, gripping the wrist of a stranger whose presence made an entire airplane crew behave carefully.
His eyes dropped to my hand.
I released him immediately.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’
He looked almost curious.
Then he opened the envelope.
Inside were several folded pages and a photograph.
He positioned them so I could see without allowing the passengers across the aisle to look over.
The photograph showed David outside our house.
It had been taken after I left.
He stood near the driveway with his phone pressed to his ear, wearing the gray shirt I had seen hanging over a chair on my final morning there.
My stomach twisted.
‘Where did you get this?’
Mr.
Moretti ignored the question and unfolded the first page.
Most of it meant nothing to me.
Numbers.
Times.
Locations.
Names I did not recognize.
Then I saw mine.
Beside it was my flight number.
1762.
I felt the cabin tilt, though the plane was level.
‘Someone told him.’
‘Yes.’
‘My cousin?’
‘No.’
The answer came immediately.
Relief and fear collided inside me.
‘Then who?’
‘That is being determined.’
Being determined.
He said it like there were people working on the answer right now.
I stared at him.
‘Who are you?’
This time, he did not give me the line about recognizing prey.
He folded the page once and placed it on the middle seat.
‘My name is Vincent Moretti.’
‘I know your name.’
‘Not what you’re asking.’
I waited.
He looked toward the front of the cabin.
Diane was helping an elderly passenger with a blanket.
No one seemed to be watching us, yet Moretti lowered his voice anyway.
‘Your husband has done business with people connected to me.’
The words chilled me more than any confession could have.
David sold commercial building supplies.
At least, that was what I had always believed.
He spent long nights out.
