Chapter 11
November 1994
For the first time since he’d worked for Manon, and regardless of the fact that there was no one else in the office, Gerry didn’t go into work on the day following the party. Let the answering machine pick up the calls; he was too f****d up to deal with humanity. While he did manage to force himself in for the rest of the week, he did nothing more than stare at the walls and fume. He’d watched the yard—every single evening and every single day that he was home—like a guard clocking in overtime hours. One flash of a long leather coat, a solitary blond hair on the wind, even the suggestion of a suit that looked like it could be anything other than off the rack, and Gerry would have been through his door and beating the ever-loving hell out of someone before they ha
