Free 5PM by Chris Heinicke Page B

reality.
    As we exit the car park, the lights of a white hatchback sedan switch on, and through my window, I see a mass of blonde hair through the driver’s window of the car. 
    I drive away, and a few minutes down the road, the same pair of headlights is keeping their distance from me.
     
    * * * * *  
     
    I park the car in the garage and close the electronic door immediately. I don’t know if we were followed all the way home or not, but I ensure I don’t alert my wife with it. I don’t want her to be concerned if it’s nothing. We hustle our way inside and find the babysitter fast asleep on the couch. A quick look in the children’s bedrooms shows that they’re both well and truly deep in slumber.
    “Oh, sorry. It got late and I couldn’t stay awake any longer,” Brittany says as she sees us return to the lounge room.
    “Well, it is nearly midnight so it’s understandable. You’re more than welcome to crash on the couch for the night,” Talissa says.
    “Thanks,” she looks over at me, “I promise I’ll be gone before eight.”
    “Oh, yeah, we have money for you. Thanks again for staying longer.” I pull out two fifty-dollar notes and hand them to her. “We’re going to bed, goodnight.”
    “Night,” she says back to us and flashes me a cute smile just before I look away.
    Talissa and I go to bed, and that damned pill I took has me tossing and turning, unable to shut my mind off—the white car, the blonde hair, and those headlights that followed us for some time being at the forefront of my thoughts. Emily had a white hatchback. The damage from the accident wasn’t serious so she could have it back already, but how would she know we were at that restaurant? If she is one of those jealous, possessive types after just one fuck, then I have a world of other problems about to crash down on me.
    Talissa is truly asleep so maybe I could sneak out and check to see if BluesGirl88 is online. I’m still not convinced that she and Emily aren’t the same person, but each of them denies it.
    I’m not one to believe in fate and things happening for a reason. I believe in the theory of chaos and it was a stroke of good luck I happened to be in the club the night I met my future wife, just as I believe it was bad luck I met this BluesGirl88 online—especially if she’s not Emily. Was Emily already lined up to be the temp before I met this chat girl? If Emily is the girl in the chat room, then she would have had to find a way to get my personal information and where I work. I did talk about myself a lot to BluesGirl88, but not specifics.
    But I can’t get her husky voice out of my head and the likeness of the avatar to Em. I need to press each of them individually a lot more in a not too obvious manner. They say to be a good liar you need to have an excellent memory, so I need to find the crack in one or the other’s recollections.
    I have to get up. Lying here and not sleeping and over thinking all that’s happened these last few days won’t do me any good, and if I wake Talissa with my restlessness, I’ll be in deep shit.
    Rolling carefully towards the edge of the bed, my wife rolls from her side to her back and starts snoring. This is my chance. I stretch to the floor, placing my hands on the carpet, and carefully use my fingers to pull myself off the bed inch by inch. My slow movements ensure I don’t emit any sudden noises that could disrupt the serenity.
    A minute later, crouching on the floor, I fluidly extend my body so I’m standing a few seconds later. Maybe I should have been a navy seal or a marine. Yeah, right! I’ve been shooting at the range with my wife a couple times, and I don’t think I could hit an elephant in a hallway. At least, it gave the most capable Talissa a good laugh when I tried.
    I can’t be walking around the house in just a pair of boxer shorts when we have the young babysitter staying in the house. The poor young girl would be horrified. Tiptoeing around the room,