“The sofa! Listen, I don’t know anything. I haven’t really looked into these cases when the man is the victim, and I don’t really know much about Scott and this Cat person. But I know this—when we met in San Jose to divide our property, it was very clear she wanted my couch. He asked for it specifically, and he had never liked it that much. I’m sure she’s been in my house, though not since the divorce. Maybe she was acting out, showing him what she thought of the couch she ended up with. I don’t know. Maybe I should—”
“No, you shouldn’t. Didn’t you already tell me you reached out to him, worried, after that parking lot scene? Your regular presence and interference could exacerbate the problem. But there is one thing you do have to do. And you have to do it very well. You must talk to your daughters and sister. You’re going to have to tell them that despite Scott’s denial and evasion, he is being battered by his girlfriend. They have to know it’s a volatile situation. They shouldn’t go to Scott’s until this is satisfactorily resolved. They probably shouldn’t let him in your house unless there’s someone around who can make sure you’re all safe. In an ideal world, I’d want you to have a restraining order, but that’s not a simple process. You have to be threatened for a judge to sign off on that, and you haven’t been personally threatened. Just tell the girls the truth and all of you give him space.”
“And meanwhile you’re going to stick your nose in?”
“Yes, as someone who knows a little about this and has a few resources. I’m going to give him the names of a few counselors and some support groups for men. I don’t know if it’ll help him, but I’m going to try. Then I’m going to leave it the hell alone. If you get involved, it could make matters worse. In the simplest of terms, the girlfriend is very threatened by you.”
“Why?” she asked indignantly. “I lost him! He chose her over me.”
“Listen, I have no idea what her mental and emotional impression of you is, but she obviously wanted what you had. She wanted the couch, for God’s sake. Scott managed your home and I bet she saw it. I bet she looked in your closet and kitchen. I bet she saw you before you first saw her. It’s human nature. It’s typical of her type. Scott, though married, looked like a sure thing—money, savings, investments, capable, resourceful and available.”
“He was married! He wasn’t available!”
“He was if the woman could manipulate him into thinking he could do a lot better. These affairs? They’re usually little more than motivation and opportunity. She supplied the motivation and the opportunity was built in—you were working. She probably made him feel like a god.”
I do have a degree, you know. How many times had he said that? Had he been feeling less than her because she had a law degree? But he was the one who pushed her, who said he didn’t want to work and she’d be capable of supporting them well! It was his idea.
“God, no good turn ever goes unpunished. I didn’t want to be a lawyer. That wasn’t my dream. I was teaching. I liked my job. Scott’s dream was having plenty of money without having to work for it. I did everything he said I should do! Everything was about us.”
“Come on, it’s not like you were victimized with a good education and excellent job. But let me tell you about men. Most men, anyway. They don’t play second fiddle well, and they’re very susceptible to high praise and power. If he didn’t feel important enough, that wasn’t your fault. He could’ve applied himself to being useful, to elevating his status. But he was offered a shortcut to feeling important. And he took it.
“Justine, you have to talk to your daughters, and all of you have to stay away for now. At least until Scott gets some help.”
“He’s never going to get help,” she said.
* * *
Logan, being an expert in surveillance, watched the house he knew to be Scott’s as well as