once pronounced husband and wife, Bruce pulled out a sheet of paper, the marriage certificate, for all to see as proof that this time they were properly hitched.
The wedding party then returned to the tent for more champagne and oysters.
8.
The second yellow envelope arrived with Tuesday’s mail. Bruce stared at it for a long time. No return. A preprinted mailing label was addressed to him at the store. And, remarkably, a postmark dated yesterday from the Santa Rosa post office across the street.
“So he was here,” Bruce said under his breath. “And probably in the store.”
He thought about taking a quick photo of the envelope, but then changed his mind. Everything was hackable, right? If the bad guys were watching and listening with sophistication far beyond his comprehension, then why couldn’t they steal his photos?
He slowly opened the envelope and removed one folded sheet of paper, the same color yellow. The typed message read:
LOVELY CEREMONY SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT THE BEACH.
YOUR WIFE IS VERY PRETTY. CONGRATULATIONS.
SNAIL MAIL, EMAIL, IT ALL LEAVES A TRAIL.
THERE ARE SERIOUS PEOPLE WATCHING YOUR EVERY MOVE.
THEY KILLED NELSON. THEY KILLED BRITTANY.
THEY ARE DESPERATE MEN.
BULLETTBEEP, A CHAT ROOM, TOMORROW AT 3 PM. YOU’LL BE 88DOGMAN.
SO LONG, HOODEENEE36
Bruce was certain that in his forty-seven years he had never felt as though he was being watched or followed or observed, especially by people whose interests he did not share. He left the store, something he did at least four times a day, and stepped onto the sidewalk along Main. He could almost feel the lasers of someone’s surveillance locking in on his back. He stood straighter, walked with a purpose, tried his damnedest not to cut his eyes in all directions, and after fifty yards called himself an idiot for being so paranoid. What could anyone gain by watching Bruce Cable walk down Main Street in Santa Rosa, Florida?
He ducked into his favorite wine bar and ordered a glass of rosé. He sat in his favorite corner with his back to the door and studied his notes. Why would “he” mention Noelle? Was it a way of threatening Bruce? It certainly felt like a threat. Was “he” friend or enemy? No one outside Bruce’s circle knew about the wedding, right? How would “he” know to be at the beach at the right moment? Bruce had not mentioned the ceremony to anyone in an email or text. And how could “he” get close enough to Noelle to know she was “very pretty”? Bruce had been occupied with his bride and the party at hand, and had not bothered to glance around at the beachcombers. There were always people on the beach, but not many on a cool late afternoon in mid-March. He didn’t remember seeing anyone.
If they were listening to his phone calls and reading his emails, for how long had they been at it? He recalled when he first contacted Elaine Shelby, he did so by phone. She immediately warned him against using emails. He then flew to Washington and met Lindsey Wheat. Was it possible that “they” knew he had hired a private security firm to find Nelson’s killers? It seemed doubtful, but then with technology what was not possible?
He puzzled and pondered and took pages of notes, none of them revealing or helpful. He ordered another glass of rosé, and the second one proved as ineffective as the first.
9.
With Nick away at school, Bruce’s favorite employee was Jade, a thirty-year-old part-timer with two college degrees and two toddlers at home. She was still looking for a career but in the meantime thoroughly enjoyed the flexible hours Bruce offered. She was a tech whiz, addicted to social media, knew the hottest and latest apps, and was contemplating a graduate degree in computer science. Without getting too specific, Bruce asked her to walk him through the scenario of corresponding through anonymous chat rooms. He fibbed and said such activity was a subplot in Nelson’s novel and he wanted it to be accurate. He knew it was quite unlikely Jade would