Free Obsessed by Devon Scott

pick up Zack and grab some dinner. Kennedy is grateful for the quiet. Her husband has been really wonderful, attending to her every need this afternoon, but his actions are beginning to grate on her nerves. She hasn’t been able to do much—and talking about it just makes her angrier than she already is.
    They return around seven o’clock. Zack runs in, backpack clad and full of energy, with Michael behind him, pizza and breadsticks in tow.
    To Kennedy’s surprise (and that of Michael), she actually dozed off while Michael was gone. She had been on the couch with her laptop when she fell asleep. Michael notes that she still looks depressed, but at least she’s putting on a happy face for their son.
    They eat their pizza while hearing about Zack’s day. Afterward, he retires to the family room and the Xbox 360. While cleaning up, Michael notices the message light on their cordless phone blinking. He reaches for it to retrieve the message.
    It’s from a woman. No one he recognizes.
    “Hey, you. I just wanted to say that I’m running late, but I’m on my way. I can’t wait to see you. To be honest, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Thinking about the wonderful things you always do to me when we’re alone. Well, guess what? I can’t wait to be alone with you tonight. I’m wet just thinking about it and of you. See you soon . . . Ciao bella.”
    Michael stares at the phone. He hits a key to replay the message. Listening to it, he eyes Kennedy curiously. She catches his gaze and raises an eyebrow. Finally she asks, “What is it?”
    Michael hands the phone to her. “A voice mail from some woman—no name.”
    Kennedy puts the receiver to her ear and listens. Her eyebrows crinkle. She presses a button and frowns.
    “From an unknown number,” she says, checking her watch, “left about a half hour ago.”
    “You didn’t hear the phone ring?” Michael asks.
    Kennedy shakes her head.
    “Nope. I told you, I dozed off. I’m surprised I didn’t hear it, though.” Kennedy saves the message and hangs up. Her brow is still furrowed. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
    “Wrong number?” he offers, knowing it sounds lame.
    “After everything that’s happened? I don’t think so.” Kennedy struggles to keep her voice even, with Zack in the next room.
    “I disagree. It probably comes down to nothing more than a wrong number. The message isn’t threatening—it doesn’t reference you or me by name. It contains nothing that points to us or to something we’ve done. I think it’s simply someone misdialing and not realizing it.”
    “Okay. But to be safe, I’m thinking we should call Joe.”
    It takes a few seconds for Michael to process what his wife has just said. He turns and faces her, his cheeks suddenly flushed.
    “Absolutely not!” Michael does nothing to hide his anger.
    “Keep your voice down!” Kennedy grabs his arm and leads him into the den, out of the earshot of their seven-year-old.
    Voice low, her stare locked onto his, she says, “Joe is a police officer and—”
    “And your ex-husband. No fucking way I’m getting him involved in this. I don’t want him seeing naked pictures of my wife with another woman.”
    “Michael—I don’t want that, either. But things are happening that neither of us can explain. First that hateful e-mail on AOL. Then compromising pictures of me with a woman e-mailed to my job. Now some chick leaving messages on our answering machine. It may not affect you that much, but this shit has blown me away. And I’m not about to sit back and let nature take its course. We need to do something.”
    “Yeah. We do. But Joe isn’t an option. End of story.”
    Michael glares at his wife before marching away.

Chapter 18
    Ten-eighteen PM .
    Michael presses the button on the remote, powering down the wall-mounted plasma. They’re in bed, a king-sized espresso-stained oak bed of minimalist design. Matching nightstands against a soothing blue wall, blue/purple/black