Chapter 23
I have an appointment with Ezra at his office at five o’clock in the evening, so Rosita comes by at four o’clock to pick up Teddy.
Rosita has been with us as a babysitter since Teddy was about two years old, although she only recently started bringing him to school.
He was such a rambunctious toddler that Jeremy hired her to give me a break every once in a while.
At the time, I hinted that I might want to start my medical practice again if she could help out, but he was so against it.
Now I wonder if he was trying to keep me from having a career and money of my own.
“Hello, Miss Naomi,” Rosita says when I open the door for her.
I step aside to let her enter. “Hi, Rosita.”
She flashes me an awkward smile. At the mediation, Jeremy said that Rosita was going to testify that I am an irresponsible mother. It’s hard for me to believe that this sweet woman who I sometimes wish were my mother would do such a thing.
Teddy is still playing in his room with a Lego set that I bought him with the extra money that I now have. I didn’t go so far as to tell him he needed to watch monkey videos, but I asked him if he could stay sequestered in his room while I have a chat with Rosita. And now is my chance.
“Rosita,” I say. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
She wrings her hands together. “I really should go. There will be traffic soon.”
“It will just be a second,” I assure her. “I just…I need to know… Do you think that I am unfit to have custody of Teddy?”
“Oh no,” she says quickly. “You are a wonderful mother, Miss Naomi.”
“So why is Jeremy telling me that you would tell our mediator that I’m not responsible?”
She just shakes her head. “Please. I do not want to get involved. This is what I said to your husband.” She blinks tearfully. “I need this job to support my family…”
I suck in a breath as I realize what she is telling me.
Did Jeremy threaten to fire her if she didn’t do what he said?
That doesn’t sound like something he’d do.
He’s always been really kind and generous to Rosita—he gave her two weeks paid time off when her sister was ill, and he always gives her a huge bonus at Christmas and her birthday.
Before I can question her further, my phone buzzes on the coffee table. I walk over to take a look, and there’s a message from Cora on the screen:
Veronica Chesson
And then a second text pops up with an address.
My heart is pounding. This is the information I have been waiting for. It’s Veronica’s full name and her address. If I want to find out what she has been up to and what she wants with my family, this is a place to start.
It’s clear that Rosita isn’t going to tell me anything, and I’ve got to head out to my appointment soon, so I call Teddy out of his room and send the two of them on their way. But it’s not quite time to leave for the appointment, so I grab my phone and google the name “Veronica Chesson.”
Nobody comes up that seems to be the same woman that my husband is sleeping with—at least not based on the photo. Whoever this woman is, she doesn’t have much presence on social media. And considering she’s in her twenties, that seems strange to me. Women like that seem to be all over socials.
There’s something about Veronica Chesson that isn’t adding up.
The address listed isn’t local. It’s in Westchester County, in Scarsdale, an extremely wealthy suburb of New York that is probably over two hours away.
I doubt she’s doing that commute on a regular basis, which means this address isn’t current.
But that doesn’t mean it won’t provide some information.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll take a little drive.
An incoming phone call interrupts my little investigation, and Ezra’s name flashes on the screen. I wonder what he could be calling about when I’m on my way there in a few minutes.
“I’m so sorry, Naomi,” he groans when I pick up the phone. “I’m still stuck at the courthouse. I’m not going to make it back to the office by five. I’ll be lucky if I’m done here by six.”
“Oh,” I say, unable to mask my disappointment. I’m desperate to come up with a game plan. “What about tomorrow?”
“I’m in court again all day tomorrow. This damn case… Anyway, I would say we could meet at my office when I’m done, but honestly, I don’t want to send you to that neighborhood in the evening.”
I’m not excited to go to that neighborhood in the evening either. Even in the daytime hours, it was pretty sketchy. “Do you make house calls?”
I say it jokingly, but he doesn’t say no. “Yeah, I could swing by if that would work for you,” he says.
“And you should bring dinner,” I say, again jokingly.
“Okay,” he says. “Are you okay with pizza?”
“Pizza is so bad for you,” I point out. “All that oil and cheese. Not to mention the preservatives.”
“Oh.” He pauses, as if he hadn’t even considered this. Most people don’t put much thought into what enters their bodies. “So what do you want?”
“There’s a great organic café about five minutes from here. Would you mind stopping there?”
“You got it,” he says cheerfully, although I hope he’s still that cheerful when he sees the menu.