The house felt different at 3:00 in the morning. Not haunted different, just hollow, like someone had sucked all the warmth out of the walls and left behind this cold shell where my marriage used to live. I stood in the kitchen of our supposedly perfect colonial, listening to my wife Naen giggle behind her locked office door upstairs, and wondered when exactly I’d become the fool in this particular comedy.

 Trevor McKinnon, successful restaurant tour, pillar of the community, complete and utter idiot. That’s what the business cards should have read.

I’d been running on maybe 3 hours of sleep a night for the past 2 weeks. Ever since I’d noticed Naen’s jewelry drawer, looking like a hurricane had hit it. Not robbed, just constantly rummage through like she couldn’t decide which earrings went best with adultery. Her perfume collection had taken a similar hit.

The expensive stuff, the bottles I’d bought her for anniversaries and birthdays, were disappearing faster than craft beer at a college party. Tonight’s revelation came courtesy of our shared iPad carelessly left on the kitchen counter. A text notification had lit up the screen just as I was grabbing a glass of water.

Can’t wait to christen the new property again. Shan Sha Dorsy, my former friend, current snake, and apparently my wife’s afternoon entertainment. The giggling upstairs got louder. I could hear her voice now, breathy and excited in a way she hadn’t sounded with me in about 5 years. No, he’s downstairs. He never comes up here anymore.

Well, that stung, but it also gave me an idea. I crept upstairs, avoiding the third step that creaked like a dying crow, and pressed my ear to her office door. The conversation was winding down, but I caught the tail end. Same time Thursday. The Riverside property should be empty all afternoon. Riverside property. That was the halfburned Victorian that Shaun’s construction company was supposed to be renovating.

Apparently, they were renovating more than just the plumbing. Naen’s voice dropped to a whisper. I love you, too. This is going to work out perfectly. Trevor won’t know what hit him. I backed away from the door, my mind racing. 22 years of marriage and this was how it ended. With my wife planning my downfall while I stood outside her door like some pathetic private investigator.

The hell with that. I made my way back downstairs and did something I hadn’t done in months. I poured myself a real drink. Not beer, not wine, but the good whiskey we kept for special occasions. Apparently, discovering your wife’s betrayal qualified as special. My restaurant, McKinnon’s had been the talk of this little New England town for 15 years.

I’d built it from nothing, turned a failing diner into the place where everyone came for anniversaries, business deals, and first dates. I knew every secret in this town, heard every piece of gossip that floated through my dining room. Politicians, business owners, even the police chief. They all ate at my tables and talked freely around my staff.

And now I was going to use every connection, every favor, and every dirty little secret I’d accumulated to make sure Naen and Shawn got exactly what they deserved. But first, I needed proof. Real proof, not just overheard conversations and suspicious behavior. I opened my laptop and started researching. Shaun’s construction company, Dorsy Development, had been winning a lot of bids lately.

Coincidentally, a lot of those properties had been listed by Naen’s real estate agency. Funny how that worked out. By sunrise, I had a plan. It wasn’t pretty, and it definitely wasn’t nice, but it was thorough. In this business, you learn that revenge, like a good sauce, needs time to develop its full flavor.

Naen came down at 7, already dressed for work in one of her powers suits. She looked surprised to see me at the kitchen table. You’re up early,” she said, not quite meeting my eyes. Couldn’t sleep. “You know how it is.” I gestured at my laptop. Just going over some restaurant business.

Speaking of which, how’s the real estate market? She stiffened slightly. Fine. Busy. Lots of properties moving. That’s great. Shaun’s company must be doing well, too, with all the renovation work. The coffee mug in her hand trembled almost imperceptibly. I wouldn’t know. We don’t really work together that much. Liar. But I just smiled and nodded. Of course not.

Well, I should get to the restaurant. Marty’s expecting me early today. Marty Kowalsski was my restaurant manager, a former army sergeant who’d been with me for 8 years. If I was going to war, there was nobody I’d rather have watching my back. I kissed Naen’s cheek, she flinched, and headed out into what was shaping up to be a very interesting day.

McKinnons occupied a prime corner spot on Main Street with big windows that let me watch the comingings and goings of our little town. I’d bought the building 10 years ago when the previous owner couldn’t make his mortgage payments. Now, it was worth three times what I’d paid, and it was all mine, unlike some other things in my life.

Marty was already in the kitchen when I arrived, prepping vegetables with the precision of a surgeon. He looked up when I walked in, took one look at my face, and set down his knife. What happened? I’d always appreciated Marty’s directness, no small talk, no dancing around issues, just straight to the point.

My wife is sleeping with Sha Dorsy. He nodded like I just told him we were out of salmon. You want me to break his legs? Not yet. Maybe later. Right now, I need information. Marty had a network of contacts throughout the town that would make the CIA jealous. Construction workers, delivery drivers, cleaning ladies, people who saw everything and were usually invisible to the folks they were watching.

What kind of information? Everything. Where they meet, when they meet, who knows about it. I also want to know about Shaun’s business dealings, especially anything involving Naen’s real estate company. How deep do you want me to dig? I thought about that giggling laugh I’d heard last night about 22 years of marriage being flushed away for some midlife crisis excitement.

All the way to bedrock. The lunch rush was lighter than usual, which gave me time to think. I watched the familiar faces of my customers. The mayor having his usual chicken sandwich. The bank president entertaining clients at table 6. The police chief grabbing a quick burger at the counter. These people trusted me, confided in me.

I was about to find out just how much that trust was worth. Around 2:00, Lois Patterson walked in. Naen’s older sister and about as different from my wife as chalk from cheese. Where Naen was all polish and ambition, Lois was practical and blunt. They’d had a falling out three years ago over some family money and barely spoke anymore.

She slid onto a bar stool and ordered coffee. You look like hell, Trevor. Thanks. You always know just what to say to make a man feel better. She studied my face with the intensity of a forensic pathologist. It’s Naen, isn’t it? What’s she done now? I almost choked on my coffee.

What makes you think she’s done anything? Because I know my sister. She’s got that look again. The same one she had in high school when she was sneaking around with Billy Hendris behind her boyfriend’s back. All secretive and pleased with herself. This was interesting. You’ve seen her recently? Last week at the grocery store, she was buying expensive wine and acting all mysterious about it.

said it was for a special client dinner, but Naen’s never entertained a client in her life. She always takes them to restaurants. Lois paused meaningfully. Your restaurant usually. Anything else? Lois leaned closer. She’s been asking questions about you, about the restaurant’s finances, about what would happen if you two split up.

She called it hypothetical planning for a friend, but Naen doesn’t have friends. She has contacts. The pieces were starting to fit together. Naen wasn’t just having an affair. She was planning her exit strategy. Probably figured she could take half of everything I’d built and run off with Shawn to start fresh somewhere else.

The bell over the door chimed. And Shawn Dorsey himself walked in. Speak of the devil. He was a big man. all broad shoulders and expensive clothes with the kind of confidence that came from never having to face real consequences for his actions. He’d been coming to my restaurant for years back when we were actually friends.

Before I knew, he was the kind of man who’d steal another man’s wife. He spotted me behind the bar and walked over with that easy smile that had probably charmed half the women in town. Trevor, how’s business? Can’t complain. How’s the construction trade? Booming. Can’t build houses fast enough around here.

Lots of people want to renovate old properties. Fix them up. His smile widened. Your wife’s been a real help with that. She knows all the best properties. I bet she does. That’s great. Naen’s always been good at finding hidden value in things. She sure is. In fact, we’re working on a project together right now.

That old Victorian over on Riverside Street. going to be beautiful when we’re done with it. The same property Naen had mentioned on the phone last night. Shawn was either incredibly stupid or incredibly arrogant. Probably both. Sounds like a big job. You spending a lot of time over there. Oh, yeah. Practically every day. Sometimes evenings, too, when the lights right for detail work. He winked.

You know how it is with these old places. You’ve got to be gentle with them. Take your time. really get to know every inch. I wanted to punch him in his smug face, but that would have been too easy. Instead, I smiled back and nodded. I’m sure you do excellent work. Very thorough. After he left, I called Marty over.

I need you to take a drive past the Riverside property this afternoon. See if you can get some pictures of Sha’s construction work. Marty grinned. It wasn’t a pleasant expression. My pleasure. By closing time, I had a much clearer picture of what I was dealing with. Marty’s reconnaissance had confirmed that Shawn’s truck was parked behind the Victorian every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, right around the time Naen claimed to be showing properties to out of town clients.

More interesting was what Marty had learned from his network. Shaun’s company had been struggling financially until about 6 months ago when they suddenly started winning bid after bid for renovation projects. All of those properties had been listed by Naen’s agency and all of them had sold for significantly more than their original asking price.

It looked like my wife and her boyfriend had been running their own little insider trading scheme, using Naen’s access to property information to help Shaun’s company corner the market on profitable renovations. That was fraud. Real prosecutable go to prison fraud. But I wasn’t going to call the police. Not yet anyway.

Prison would be too easy for them, too clean. I wanted them to suffer the way I was suffering publicly, humiliatingly, with their reputations and their futures in ruins. I wanted them destroyed. Thursday afternoon found me parked across the street from the Riverside property, camera in hand and revenge on my mind.

Marty was positioned at the back of the building, ready to document whatever construction work Shawn and Naen were planning to do. They arrived separately, of course. Naen first in her silver BMW, looking around nervously before hurrying inside through the back door. Shawn followed 10 minutes later, carrying what looked like a bottle of wine and a picnic basket.

Some construction work. I’d done my homework on this property. The Victorian had been damaged in a kitchen fire 6 months ago, and the insurance settlement was still tied up in court. Technically, the building was condemned and offlimits to everyone except authorized contractors and city inspectors.

Shaun’s company had the renovation contract, but they weren’t supposed to start work until the insurance issues were resolved. So, whatever they were doing in there was definitely not legal and probably not safe. Perfect. I waited 45 minutes, long enough for them to get comfortable, then made my move. The front door was unlocked.

careless of them really. I could hear voices from upstairs along with some other sounds I didn’t particularly want to identify. The stairs creaked under my weight, but they were too distracted to notice. I found them in what used to be the master bedroom on a mattress that definitely hadn’t been there when I’d toured the property last month.

Naen’s real estate blazer was draped over a sawdustcovered chair and Shawn’s work boots were kicked carelessly into a corner. They were so absorbed in each other that I managed to get nearly a full minute of video before Shawn noticed me. His face went through several interesting color changes before settling on a sickly gray.

“Trevor, this isn’t We weren’t inspecting the structural integrity of the floor joists,” I suggested helpfully. Very thorough work, Shawn. I can see why you win so many contracts. Naen had gone completely still, like a deer caught in headlights. She was calculating. I could see it in her eyes, trying to figure out how much damage control would be needed.

Trevor, we need to talk about this like adults, she said finally, reaching for her clothes. Oh, we will. But first, I think we should discuss the legal implications of what you’re doing here. This property is condemned, Shawn. You’re not supposed to be here without city permits and safety inspections.

And Naen, I’m pretty sure using condemned properties for personal recreation violates about six different real estate regulations. Shawn found his voice. You can’t prove anything. I held up my phone, still recording. Actually, I can prove quite a lot, but don’t worry, I’m not going to the police yet. That got their attention. What do you want? Naen asked.

Right now, I want you both to get dressed and get out. We’ll continue this conversation later when you’ve had time to think about your options. They scrambled into their clothes with all the dignity of teenagers caught by their parents. Shawn tried to bluster his way past me, but I stepped aside and let him go.

No point in escalating to violence when I had better weapons available. Naen paused at the door. Trevor, please. We can work this out. I’m sure we can, but it’s going to be on my terms now. After they left, I took a thorough tour of the property. The renovation work Shaun’s company was supposedly doing was minimal at best. a few cosmetic repairs, some basic cleaning.