Caleb
Derek's name lights up my phone screen as I'm pulling out of my driveway and I let it ring out.
I'm not interested in speaking to him, even if he wants to apologize.
What he's doing is wrong. When he calls again thirty seconds later, I let that one go to voicemail too.
Whatever he has to say means nothing. Besides, hearing his voice will only make me want to drive to Tipp City and put my fist through his face, which won't help Olivia or me.
The last two weeks have been challenging, watching her leave to take Ethan to school, then return in the evenings.
Since the day I moved in, I can't remember one day where I wasn't out in my yard watching her or over at her house for some reason. Now I hide in my garage watching her from a distance, and I’ve noticed her nightly cup of tea on the back porch has changed too. She doesn't do that anymore.
But observing her at a distance has helped me track her movement better, and though her car isn't home, I know today is her day off work. She must be at the salon or out grocery shopping, which is why I’m on the way to the boutique.
When I was there before, I didn't get the full picture.
I didn't ask the right questions to help me really find out what's going on.
I just asked what Derek wanted me to ask—and I never realized how damning those questions would be to Olivia.
Today, I came to do the right thing and to ask the right questions.
I want to know who sent those reports and why, and this time, I'm planning to be nothing but honest. I walk into the little boutique and scan the clothing racks to make sure I'm right and Olivia isn't here before I turn to the front.
Helen stands behind the counter sorting through a stack of invoices with her reading glasses low on her nose.
She looks up when I walk in and her expression shifts from polite to cautious in about half a second.
"Mr. Ward. I wasn't expecting to see you again." When I left this place last time, it was under the misguided notion that my only interest was building my business. I was wrong for purposefully deceiving Helen and I feel bad about that.
"I know, and I'm sorry to bother you." I walk to the counter and stop a respectful distance back. "I need to talk to you about those phone calls you mentioned last time. The anonymous complaints about Mrs. Bennett."
Helen sets her pen down and folds her hands on the counter.
"I told you what I know. Someone called twice, said she was unstable, and I didn't take it seriously because it didn't match the woman I see every day.
" She looks at me curiously as she cocks her head, and I see her mind searching for answers I haven't given yet.
"I need more detail than that, Helen. I need to know exactly what the caller said… maybe who it was, if you can help me figure that out."
Helen's eyes flick to the door and then down to her stack of invoices. When she looks back up at me, she looks guarded. "Why? You said you were doing security assessments. That felt like a stretch the first time and it feels more like one now." This woman is no pushover, and it's time I come clean.
"You're right, and I owe you a straight answer and I'm sorry.
" I rest my hands on the counter and meet her eyes.
"I am starting a private security firm—that part is true—but I'm also Olivia's neighbor and her friend, and I believe someone's been deliberately harassing her to damage her reputation and her custody arrangement.
Those phone calls to your store are part of a pattern, and I need to know what was said so I can help her. "
Helen takes her glasses off and sets them on the invoice pile. She crosses her arms and leans back against the shelving unit behind the register, staring at me like she's trying to figure me out. I don't feel like I'm going to get anywhere with her.
"Well, Mr. Ward, Olivia hasn’t said anything to me about—"
"About her ex-husband trying to take her son away?" I ask, cutting her off, and Helen's expression shifts. She looks worried now, like I've said the magic phrase that will unlock her lips.
"Yes, she mentioned that…" Now I'm getting somewhere.
"If whoever is doing this is working for him, she could lose her son.
Now, I care about that woman a lot—though we've had our differences—and I don't want to see her hurt.
Please, help me help her by telling me what you know.
" I try not to use a forceful tone, but I feel on edge.
I've come up dry with all the leads I have on Derek, and this is the one thread I haven't picked at yet.
"The first call came about five weeks ago," she says cautiously.
"It was a man's voice but he didn't give his name.
He said he was a concerned member of the community and that he wanted to make the store aware that one of our employees had serious mental health issues.
He used the phrase 'abusing prescription sleeping medication' and said Olivia was unstable and potentially unsafe to be around customers.
" She frowns at the memory, and I understand why.
What horrible things to say about someone.
"What did you say to him?" I ask, pulling out my phone to take notes. I type into my Notes app and glance up at her as I do.
"I told him I'd been working with Olivia for four years and I had no concerns about her performance or her behavior, and I asked him to identify himself."
"And he wouldn't?"
"He hung up." She shifts her weight and uncrosses her arms. "The second call came about a week later.
Same voice, same number. This time, he went further.
He said Olivia had a documented history of mental instability and that the store could be held liable if she had an episode on the job and a customer got hurt.
He said he was giving us the opportunity to act before it became a legal matter. "
"Same voice both times. You're sure?" Yeah, this sounds exactly like Derek, though without the number, how am I supposed to prove that? And what would a judge say about his calling her place of work to tattle on her depression like a childish nark?
"I'm sure," she says firmly. Then she pulls out a notebook and folds it open, flipping a few pages before she lands on one she wants.
She taps the page and says, "I wrote the number down in case this became an issue, though I didn't think at the time it would.
" She turns the notebook toward me and points at a line written in blue ink.
I look at the number and recognize it immediately. I've called it dozens of times over the past two months and I've had it memorized since the day Derek hired me. It's his personal cell phone.
"Do you recognize it?" Helen asks, watching my face.
"Yeah." I straighten up and pull my phone out of my pocket and take a photo of the number in her notebook. "I recognize it."
"Whose is it?"
"I think it’s better if I don’t discuss this openly. I would hate for Olivia to find out like this…" I pause and sigh hard. "Can I get a copy of your phone records for those two calls? Dates and times if you have them."
Helen nods and writes down both dates and the approximate times from her notes then tears the page out and hands it to me.
"I want to be clear about something, Mr. Ward.
Olivia doesn't know about these calls. I never told her because I didn't want to add to whatever she's already dealing with.
But if someone's coming after her, she deserves to know. "
"She will. I'm going to make sure of that.
But I need to put some things together first so when she finds out, she has more than just my word to go on.
" She's not even going to listen to me, but she may listen to facts.
If I can document them in a report and give them to her personally, she might just read it and know what she's up against.
Helen puts her glasses back on and picks up her pen. "Take care of her. She doesn't have enough people in her corner."
"Thank you." I nod at her and walk out of the boutique and cross the parking lot to my truck where I sit and stare at the photo on my phone.
Derek didn't just hire me to snoop around her house.
He's been running a full campaign against her—the calls to her workplace, the custody motions, the constant confrontations at pickups, and expensive gifts that make her look like the lesser parent in Ethan's eyes.
Every piece of it has been coordinated to build a case that she's unfit, and he's been doing it since before I ever moved in next door.
This is something bigger than me. I'm not just going to have to shut down his sneaky attempts to hurt her.
I'm going to have to call him out in a bigger way.
It means I have to do to him what he's been doing to Olivia—look up his former cases, find out what shit he's been into, and call him on the fucked up bullshit he's pulling. And that will require help.
I pull up Reilly's number and call him, my mind already thinking through my next steps.
"Gunny. I was starting to think you forgot about us." He sounds light and cheerful. With about XXX weeks left on his contract, he's probably feeling lighter than air.
"I need your help," I tell him. "Not when you're out. Now."
The tone of his voice changes immediately. "What's going on?"
"Remember the client I told you about? The custody job that funded the office deposit?"
"Derek something. The ex-husband?"
"Yeah, his name's Derek Bennett. But the job went sideways.
" I lean my head back against the headrest and close my eyes as I explain, "He didn't hire me to make sure she's being a good mom.
He hired me to find sketchy ways to fabricate dirt on her.
He wants to take the kid away from a perfectly good mom all because she has depression.
" It's not the full truth, but that's the foundation of his shoddy case.
Reilly goes quiet for a second. "How bad's the custody filing?"
"Bad enough. He's using the medication I reported, the fact that I had unsupervised access to the kid.
The fucker calls me a 'stranger' to them, though he fucking hired me to get close.
He knows I'm not a danger, yet he wants to make me look like a kidnapper or something.
A decent lawyer could spin it into a compelling case if the judge doesn't look too hard at where the information came from. "
"So, what do you want to do, bud? I mean, this isn't our area of expertise. We're supposed to watch businesses for break-ins." Reilly has a point, but I helped make this mess and I'm going to fix it, one way or another. I just want his help.
"I want to dismantle it. I need someone to dig into Derek's records, his phone logs, financials. He has to have done something similar in other cases, you know—really fucked with people. And I need it documented clean enough to hand to her attorney."
"That's not a one-man job, Caleb."
"I know. That's why I'm calling you." When my eyes pop open, I see a few women walking past talking. One of them has short, dark hair, just like Olivia, and it makes my chest twist.
Reilly exhales in a huff, but I know he won't let me down. "Let me make some calls. How fast do you need this?"
"The court date's in July." I count on my fingers the number of weeks we have left, but he says it for me.
"That's tight but doable." I hear him shuffling through papers on his end of the line and know he's already spooling up for this mission.
"Send me everything you have. The reports you wrote, the phone number from the boutique, the custody filing if you can get a copy, and anything else that connects Derek to the harassment.
And give me every shred of information you have on him too—his address, phone numbers, any name of former clients.
I'll build a timeline and we'll start pulling threads. "
"What about Dawson and the others?"
"Dawson's got leave coming up next week. I'll put him on the phone records and see if we can find any other cases similar to this. If he owns a burner, it might get tricky—"
"I doubt he's smart enough for that," I grumble. "And Mick?"
"Mick owes me about six favors and he's been bored out of his mind.
I'll put him on social media and public records.
If Derek has other women, other complaints, anything that shows a pattern, Mick'll find it.
And Torres has a buddy who does forensic accounting.
If we need to follow Derek's money, he’s our guy.
But I'll hold off until the phone records tell us where to dig. "
"This is real work, Reilly. I need it done right." I'm not screwing around with this. I can’t live with myself if Derek wins. Olivia doesn't know it, but we may be her only hope. I can't let her down again.
"When have we ever done anything wrong?" He chuckles.
"I'll have a preliminary plan by tonight and I'll call you once I've talked to everyone.
In the meantime, don't contact Derek. Don't answer if he calls.
Don't give him any reason to think you're building a case against him. Let him believe you walked away."
"Easier said than done," I mutter, because honestly, if I see that man, I'll throat punch him.
"Look, just be smart. This is going to eat up time and money, and I need to know that you're not just doing this because you feel guilty."
It's more than guilt, but how do I explain that? That woman exposed a part of my heart I’ve kept buried for so long, I thought no one would ever find it.
She came in like a ray of sunshine during a hurricane and dried up my nasty side.
I'd do anything for her, just to keep that warmth in her heart a little longer.
"She's worth it, Reilly. She's the best person I've ever met and I helped the worst person in her life build a case against her. I need to fix that."
"Alright. We run this clean and quiet, and by the time that court date rolls around, Derek's lawyer's going to wish his client had never picked up the phone."
"Thanks, man." I hang up and set the phone on the seat next to me.
Derek thinks he's winning—like Olivia will have no choice but to fall in line and worship at his feet.
But he didn't account for the man he hired falling in love with her. And he didn't account for a team of Marines with nothing better to do than pick his entire operation apart.
I start the truck and head home. There's work to do.