Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

5
N A T
“I
told you he was a widower. It’s the only logical
explanation.”
Sloane and I are at lunch. We’ve already dropped the gown
at the consignment shop. Now we’re hunched over our salads,
replaying my encounter with Kage to try to get it to make
sense.
“So you think he saw me in the dress and…”
“Flipped out,” she finishes, nodding. “It reminded him of
his dead wife. Shit, this must be recent.” Munching on a
mouthful of lettuce, she mulls it over for a moment. “That’s
probably why he moved to town. Wherever he was living
before reminded him too much of her. God, I wonder how she
died?”
“Probably an accident. He’s young—what do you think?
Early thirties?”
“To mid at the most. They might not have been married
very long.” She makes a sound of sympathy. “Poor guy. It
doesn’t seem like he’s taking it well.”
I feel a twinge of dismay at the way I treated him this
morning. I was so embarrassed to be caught in my wedding
dress, and so surprised to see him instead of Sloane, I’m afraid
I was a bit of a bitch.
“So what was in the box he brought over?”
“Painting supplies. Oils and brushes. The weird thing is
that I don’t remember ordering them.”