After ruminating over the mysterious email, I decided to confront Reed about this phantom correspondent. Whoever the writer was, she got herself into this predicament, so she would have to get herself out. I planned to send her message to Reed and follow up with a few questions.

I called him at 3 p.m. my time. I figured he’d be munching his lunch and would have time to talk. He answered my call quickly.

“Hi, honey,” he chirped. Ugh. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Reed had begun to fantasize that he and I were already an item.  He started calling me “honey” and “sweetheart.”  Yuck. In my best of moods, I could barely tolerate it. But now? Impossible.

“I do have a name, you know. And it’s not honey.”

“What got your panties in a bunch today, sweetie?” There was a chuckle in his voice. That pissed me off even more.

“Who’s living in your house with you?” I asked.

Silence.

“Is anybody there?” I asked.

“What makes you say that?” There was caution in his tone.

“I received an email from your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Well, that answers that question,” I responded.

“Wait,” replied Reed. “What’s this all about? What email? Can you send it to me?”

By then, I didn’t care about her or him. I wanted this relationship over.

“Sure,” I told him. “It’s from your email address.”

 I opened the document–hit Forward– entered Reed’s email address–hit Send. 

In the meantime, he must have gone into his account to find the email. He couldn’t find it and told me as much.

“Did it ever occur to you that she wrote it, sent it, then deleted it?”

Silence. Duh.

 I ended the call.

My phone rang and rang. I tried to ignore it, as there was nothing to discuss. Reed was a liar. I should have blocked him.  Finally, to stop the constant ringing, I answered.

Reed spoke quietly in a monotone.

“Her name is Cathy. We lived together in Texas for about fifteen years. We split up, but when I had brain surgery, she offered to come here to help me recover. Now, she has nowhere to go.”

I said nothing. I waited for Reed to finish.

“That trip to Alaska,” he began. “She was with me. I flew her up there so she could move in with her daughter. They’re both alcoholics, and they drank and got into an argument. Cathy returned to Colorado with me.”

He said he wanted to get her out of his house, but Colorado has specific eviction laws. He needed to serve her with papers. Reed threatened her with one, but each time, she begged him not to. If he did, she’d have a record and never be able to rent or lease anywhere. He told me he’d vacated three evictions after she promised she’d leave, but she never did. She has no car, cash, or job, and laws protected people like Cathy.

“I’m going to take care of this,” said Reed.

“You do what you have to do,” I told him. “I want no part of this.”

“Don’t worry, honey,” he said. “I’ll fix this. I’ll change my password. Cathy won’t bother you again.”

I just about gagged. Was he stupid or what?

The next day, another email arrived from Reed’s email account.

YOU ARE A FOOL!!!!!

HE IS A TAKER AND ABUSIVE VERY ABUSIVE MAN…LET ME SEND YOU THE RECORDINGS AND VIDEOS…

DON’T BE DESPERATE…YOU WILL LOSE.

YOU HAVE HURT ME….NO MORE WARNINGS.      

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