Creep - Jennifer Hillier [82]
“We met two years ago.”
“So she quit before she met you.” Jerry smiled. “Good news, right?”
Morris felt like kicking him. “What about her e-mails?”
“We checked, but it would seem she kept most of the Montgomery stuff in her Montgomery account. There were a couple of e-mails from men she met on the site, so it looks like from time to time she may have given them a personal e-mail address, which was a Gmail account. Doesn’t look like anyone used their real name, though, and there’s no way to follow up since everyone else used free webmail, too.”
Jerry paused to sip his tea. “We were also able to log into her university account. Pretty standard stuff, mostly from students. Plus quite a few messages from her teaching assistants.” He put his cup down and cracked his knuckles. “One in particular. Have you ever met any of the TAs that work under her?”
The look on his face made Morris uneasy. “I’m not sure. Maybe. Her department has a Christmas ball every year, and I went last year. I might have been introduced to a few of them.”
“The name Ethan Wolfe ring a bell?”
Morris sat up with a start. “Actually, yeah.” He pictured the cocky twentysomething who’d stopped by Sheila’s office the night he’d given her the bracelet. “He’s been working for her for a while now. Oh, hell,” Morris said, noticing Jerry’s expression. “Don’t tell me. That’s the student she was screwing around with?”
“You knew it was a student?”
Morris said nothing.
The PI looked annoyed. He was clearly about to say something, but then he appeared to change his mind. He speared a dumpling with his chopstick instead. “Look, I don’t know anything for a fact. Some of the e-mails were suggestive, but there’s nothing definite.”
Morris struggled to process this news. “Son of a bitch. That arrogant little prick.” It took a moment for the information to fully sink in, and when it did, he couldn’t temper his rage. “Goddammit! This just confirms I know nothing about this woman. She told me he was a student, but that guy? Are you kidding me?” Morris’s voice was loud, and several heads turned in their direction at the outburst. The old lady pushing the dim sum cart frowned at them.
“Easy now.” Jerry smiled reassuringly at the patrons around them and leaned in. “There’s something else you should know.” He paused again, uncomfortable.
As if it could get any worse.
“I’m pretty sure she’s a sex addict.”
Morris blew out a breath. “Yeah. I knew.”
“Jesus Christ, man!” Jerry stared at him in disbelief. “Have you ever heard of the term pertinent information? This would have been important to know earlier. I thought you hired me to help you.”
“Have you ever heard of the term need-to-know basis?” Morris’s face was hot. “You didn’t need to know. It’s her issue. She’s worked hard at keeping it private—from me, from everyone. I did tell you about the affair,” he said defiantly, but he knew he sounded stupid and illogical.
“Man, are you serious? Sheila was a regular member of Sex Addicts Anonymous. I checked the calendar in her computer, and it looks like she’s been going to meetings for three years. Can you imagine the kinds of people she’s come into contact with? Who knows what issues these people had? She could have been stalked.” It was Jerry’s turn to get loud and he was breathing hard, food forgotten. “Why didn’t you tell me up front? I could have used this information a long time ago, Morris!”
Morris pounded the table. “I don’t know, Jerry.” But that was a lie. He knew why. He didn’t tell Jerry because it was shameful. It hit him then how hard it must have been for Sheila to tell him.