She frowns. “Are you upset because I think you’re capable of murder or that I would think you’d be sloppy about it?”
My hands go to my hips. “There’s no murder involved. I have something better. The morning I left, I checked his computer that he leaves at the house, hoping it would have some sort of internet he hadn’t told me about. It didn’t. But it did have videos. I only saw a snippet of a couple before I had to stop because it made me sick. The videos were of him having sex with women. I’m positive the women weren’t aware he was recording them.”
Samantha closes her eyes. “Were these other women he brought home?”
“No. I think they were from before we dated. I didn’t recognize the bedroom.”
“And you think exposing this about him will somehow prevent others from falling for his lies?”
“If I’m right and these were taken without consent, the police should investigate. It might make the news, and everyone will learn to stay away from him.”
She winces and walks toward her bedroom. “I doubt that. There are women who seek out men in prison.”
I follow her. She tosses her suitcase onto her bed and begins to pack.
“Yes, but at least those women know what they are getting. Tyler comes across as a sweet, honest man. It’s all a lie.”
She stares at her phone. “I hope you’re right. And for the record, I bought our plane tickets. We need to be out of here in about twenty minutes.”
“You bought? How much was it? I can repay you?—”
Her hand goes up. “No, this is my treat. And thank you for providing me with a distraction. If it weren’t for this, I’d be spending all week sitting on the couch crying or being angry.”
“Well, don’t thank me yet. This could end up being a disaster.”
I pack as fast as I can, and in less than a half hour, we are on our way to the airport.
We arrivein Portland later that night and check into a hotel. Tomorrow morning, we will watch him from down the street to make sure he’s still on the same schedule he used to be on. And we need to know if he’s living with someone.
The next morning, as we drive toward the old house, I get cold feet. “This is dumb, isn’t it?” I ask.
Samantha glances at me from the driver’s seat of our rental car. “Dumb? No. Crazy? Yes.”
“We should go back home.”
“Nope. We have to stop him from hurting anyone else.”
She’s right. I’m just scared this won’t work. Or it will backfire somehow. I’m not someone who breaks the law, so this is wildly outside my comfort zone.
She parks where I instruct.
“The house is at the end of that driveway,” I say, pointing toward it. “We need to park on the road and then walk down. There are some bushes we can hide behind.”
Samantha turns in her seat. “Excuse me? You want to hide in the bushes? And what if we get caught?”
“Yes. And we won’t.”
I get out of the car before she can ask me anything else.
She gets out. “I thought we were going to be sitting in a warm car, drinking coffee. I didn’t sign up for hiding in some cold, damp bushes.”
I pat her on the shoulder. “Think of it as an adventure. And don’t worry, the bushes aren’t damp. It’s the summer.”
Fortunately, she doesn’t complain anymore, and we find a spot to hide. Thirty minutes later, Tyler steps out onto the porch and locks the front door. He’s wearing a suit, and his hair is shorter than he used to wear it. He gets into his car and drives away.
There is still a light on inside the house. And there is a car I don’t recognize in the driveway.
“Someone else is in there,” I say.
