The Divorce Lawyer: An absolutely unputdownable and gripping psychological thriller packed with twists by Ellie Monago

Author:Ellie Monago [Monago, Ellie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2024-05-10T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SEVEN

Intellectually, Esther knows she’s not to blame for Naomi Emerson’s drug addiction or for Phil Tillman feeling like loving his daddy needs to be kept under wraps. If anyone’s to blame, it’s their parents. They’re the ones who supplied the nature and the nurture. They’re the permanent fixtures, while Esther was just passing through.

Yet Phil haunts her dreams. All night, she sees him mouthing the words, “Can you keep a secret?”

When she wakes up, she knows what she needs to do. She’ll text Wilfred von Holten and invite him out to the restaurant of his choice. Wilfred was the custody evaluator for the Stanton case, among others, and he’s written numerous reports that proved favorable to her clients. Specifically, he wrote the report on the Tillmans so hopefully he can both clear Esther’s conscience and weigh in on the probability that Xander Tillman is the Sleight stalker. Efficiency at its finest.

Esther sends her first text to Wilfred at 8 a.m., which is a perfectly respectable hour, and the next at 9 on the dot. Then 9:30, then 10:12, then 11:04. She’s increasingly annoyed by his lack of response. How many people can be clamoring for his company when he’s got the demeanor and sweater vests of Mr. Rogers? (She and Hugh have agreed that Wilfred’s affectation can’t be mere coincidence, seeing as the resemblance is remarked upon by nearly everyone who comes in contact with him.) By noon, she’s pissed. They’re colleagues, sort of, and he must have picked up on her sense of urgency.

Finally, just after 2 p.m., he texts: Dinner at 9? Tony’s on College Ave.?

Yes! See you there!

Tony’s is an old-school diner with an early dinner rush so it’s largely empty by the time Esther walks in at 8:56. Wilfred’s already there in a red vinyl booth. She can tell by his expression that she doesn’t look quite like herself, and that it goes deeper than the blowout she completely forgot. But then, as a professional evaluator, he’s paid to notice.

She has nothing to hide. Or at least nothing that’s relevant to their business here tonight. She intends to be entirely truthful about what she observed at Julianne Tillman’s.

“Hello, Esther,” Wilfred says, with a gentle yet slightly wary smile. He never asked her the reason for the meeting but his energy suggests that he doesn’t entirely trust her intentions. She has no idea why since she’s never been anything but civil toward him, even in the rare event that she didn’t like his findings.

“Hi, Wilfred,” she says. There are already two water glasses on the table along with menus that are lightly crusted with food. Well, she didn’t have an appetite anyway.

A buxom server in a throwback polyester uniform with a plastic name tag (“Candy”) comes by and Wilfred gestures toward Esther gallantly. “Would you like more time to peruse?”

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” she tells the server.

“Cheeseburger cooked medium well with a side salad,” Wilfred says. “No fries.” Candy looks at Esther, who nods assent. “I’ve been trying to figure out what would make you so eager to meet.

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