Me: Thanks.
If I’m doing this, I guess I should get on with it.
Me: Should we meet for breakfast?
Claire: We’d love that. We’re at the JW in Cherry Creek.
Me: I’ll meet you at the Cherry Cricket on 2nd Street at 8.
Landon: We’ll see you then.
I sleep restlessly. I’m getting back on board with doing business with the Walshes, but I’m not at all sure my heart wants any more of Landon Walsh. I wish we could go back to before that bitch came into his life and wreaked havoc with her fake paternity suit. I still can’t fully process that he disappeared for nearly two months and refused to communicate.
But anyway, I need to focus on the present. What the hell is Tomas doing? I sit up in bed and send a text.
Me: What do you remember about Tomas Vigil?
Chrissy: You’re alive.
Me: Sorry. Hiding at my mom’s. Long story, but I’m curious what you remember about Tomas from Stanford?
Chrissy: You dated him for a minute. He was scrawny and pretty granola even by Bay Area standards.
Chrissy: He was friends with a group of nerdy guys who were always angry that no one wanted to go out with them.
Chrissy: He had a lame idea about water filtration and nothing beyond that.
Me: Do you recall who his friends were?
Chrissy: Dan Tanenbaum was one. He had a tiny one. Oh, and that Jimmy guy.
I skip over her penis joke. Who was Jimmy again?
Me: Fallon?
Chrissy: No! Jimmy Fallon is on TV.
Me: Duh! I’m going back to bed.
Chrissy: Come home soon.
Me: Miss you too.
I lie awake and try to remember Jimmy’s last name. There was another guy named Michael Goldie they hung out with…
By five, I have my computer open, and I’m on PeopleMover. I have to be careful because I’m not friends with these guys, and if I search too close, I’ll show up in their friends suggestions. I’m trying to stay below the radar.
On Tomas’ page, I find a Stanford group he belongs to—the Stanford Octagon. It’s a closed group, so I can’t see who the members are, but I search a few friends from school and find one who is also a member.
Me: Dana, I have a question for you. You open for a quick chat?
Dana: Sure. Wow, it’s early where you are. I’m on the East Coast.
She gives me her land line number, and I call.
“Hey, sorry to call so early,” I tell her.
“Don’t worry about me. I have a new baby, and we’re in Boston, so I never sleep.”
“Congratulations. Boy? Girl?”
“She’s a girl. We named her Kennedy.”
“Boston’s the place to be a Kennedy, I suppose.”
She chuckles. “We need to come up with a funny Boston story about why we named her that, but actually, it’s a family name.”
“Tinsley is a family name. I like that.”
“What’s going on?” she asks.
“It’s a bit of a long story, but I saw you were a member of a closed PeopleMover group from Stanford—the Stanford Octagon?”
“Yes, but I haven’t been on the page for a long time. I hid the comments because they’re all bitter guys who can’t face the reality that they have shitty ideas.”
“Any chance I can talk you into going into the group and grabbing some screenshots of the members and any interesting conversations?”
“Sure. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to, but I’ll try when I have a chance.”
“You’re awesome. Are you guys planning any trips out to the Bay Area?”
“I’m not sure. Kennedy is only three months old. And I’m only telling you this because I need to tell someone, but I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant again.”
“No way! Is that bad?”
“We pulled the goalie to have Kennedy, and between the forever-long period you have post-birth and nursing, I didn’t think I could get pregnant. I’ve been waiting for my period to come back again, and it dawned on me this morning that I could be pregnant. My palms are all sweaty.”
I laugh. “Well, think of it this way, if you are having another one, your kids will be close in age and super tight.”
“You’re right. I need to look at the positives. But after this baby is born, Phillip is getting a vasectomy. He looked at me, and I got pregnant.”
“Somehow, I think the mechanics were a little more than that.”
I hear her giggle. “Thanks for listening.”
“No problem, and send those screenshots over when you can.”
I disconnect the call as my mother walks in. “You’re up early,” she says.
“I couldn’t sleep. I made the mistake of turning my phone on for the first time in over a week.”
“Anything interesting?”
I tell her about everything that’s happened with Tomas, and then him showing up at the bar where my team was hanging out—and where I’d been invited.
She takes a leisurely sip of her coffee. “What are you thinking?”
“I decided to meet Landon and Claire this morning for breakfast.”
“I like that, but what are you doing about this Tomas guy?”
“I don’t know yet. I reached out to Dana from Stanford. Do you remember her?”
“Dirty blonde with glasses?”
My mom has an impeccable memory. “Yes, she recently had a baby and is with her husband in Boston.” I recount our conversation, minus the part about her possibly being pregnant again.
“Smart thinking. Your private investigator should be made aware of anyone you can figure out is a member of this group. Sounds like they’d be worth exploring.”
“I thought so,
