Then he looked toward the entrance of the parking lot and stepped closer.
“Please don’t get into your car yet.”
His voice was so serious that I stopped moving.
“My husband is paying you to watch me?” I repeated after he told me.
The boy nodded.
His name was Marcus.
He explained that David had approached him at a church meal program almost two months earlier. David claimed his wife suffered from memory problems and sometimes wandered around town without realizing where she was.
He offered Marcus three hundred dollars a week to report where I went, who I spoke to, and whether I drove toward the lake.
At first, the requests sounded like concern.
Then they changed.
