‘You are not her,’ Mrs. Facelli said plainly, looking beyond Abbie and meeting eyes with me, oddly as if she knew me, as if she knew exactly who I was. I stepped forward towards the table as if I was being summoned, and I did my best to keep Abbie at bay, at least for the time being. ‘Angel,’ Mrs. Facelli didn’t ask as I approached, but rather stated with a sense of knowing. ‘I am Elizabeth Facelli,’ she introduced herself, actually rising from her seat and extending her hand to me in greeting, a gesture I couldn’t very well hide my surprise towards. ‘And this is my attorney, Steven Granger. Thank you for meeting with us this afternoon,’ she went on, never breaking the facade of her elegance and class, even though I figured she must be despising me inside. Even here, even now, she treated this as though it were nothing more than a business meeting. I stood there silently across the table from her, letting her outstretched hand linger ungreeted in the air. For a moment longer I let. I sat in the living room for a while, feeling sick and defeated. There wasn’t much doubt now that she was having an affair. It was a matter of where and when and who with. I wouldn’t be satisfied until I knew the answers to all those questions, so I got up and went out to my truck and took off for town. I stopped at a Radio Shack and talked to a guy about recording telephone calls and how hard it was to hook something up. Turns out it wasn’t hard at all, and the machine wasn’t that expensive either. I bought it and took it home and installed it in the basement. We only had one phone line, but there was an extension in the basement and I used that to hook up the recorder. Sharise never went near my workshop for fear of getting dirty, so I wasn’t worried about her discovering it. I had a hell of a time acting normal around my wife. I knew, or at least I was pretty sure that she was cheating on me. The I.U.D. was the most damning evidence, but I was hoping the rest of the unanswered.
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