The Stranger by Harlan Coben

But she counters with two thousand dollars. They go back and forth.”
    â€œDo they reach an agreement?” Heidi asked.
    Her eyes were wet now.
    The stranger nodded. “In this case, they settle for twelve hundred dollars per month.”
    â€œThat’s fourteen thousand four hundred dollars per year,” Heidi said with a sad smile. “I’m good at math.”
    â€œThat’s correct.”
    â€œAnd the girl,” Heidi said. “What does she tell the guy she is? Wait, don’t tell me. She says she’s a college student and needs help with her tuition.”
    â€œIn this case, yes.”
    â€œUgh,” Heidi said.
    â€œAnd in this case,” the stranger continued, “the girl is telling the truth.”
    â€œShe’s a student?” Heidi shook her head. “Terrific.”
    â€œBut the girl, in this case, doesn’t stop there,” the stranger said. “The girl sets up different days of the week with different sugar daddies.”
    â€œOh, that’s gross.”
    â€œSo with one guy, she’s always Tuesdays. Another guy is Thursdays. Someone else gets weekends.”
    â€œMust add up. The money, I mean.”
    â€œIt does.”
    â€œNot to mention the venereal diseases,” Heidi said.
    â€œThat I can’t comment on.”
    â€œMeaning?”
    â€œMeaning we don’t know if she uses condoms or what. We don’t have her medical records. We don’t even know exactly what she does with all these men.”
    â€œI doubt she’s playing cribbage.”
    â€œI doubt it too.”
    â€œWhy are you telling me this?”
    The stranger looked at Ingrid. For the first time, Ingrid spoke. “Because you deserve to know.”
    â€œThat’s it?”
    â€œThat’s all we can tell you, yes,” the stranger said.
    â€œTwenty years.” Heidi shook her head and bit back her tears. “That bastard.”
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œMarty. That bastard.”
    â€œOh, we’re not talking about Marty,” the stranger said.
    Now, for the first time, Heidi looked completely baffled. “What? Then who?”
    â€œWe’re talking about your daughter, Kimberly.”

Chapter 9
    C orinne took the blow, stumbled back, stayed standing.
    â€œWhat the hell are you talking about?”
    â€œCan we skip this part?” Adam asked.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThe part where you pretend you have no idea what I’m talking about. Let’s skip the denials, okay? I know you faked the pregnancy.”
    She tried to gather herself, pick up the pieces one at a time. “If you know, why are you asking?”
    â€œHow about the boys?”
    That puzzled her. “What about them?”
    â€œAre they mine?”
    Corinne’s eyes went wide. “Are you out of your mind?”
    â€œYou faked a pregnancy. Who knows what else you’re capable of?”
    Corinne just stood there.
    â€œWell?”
    â€œJesus, Adam, look at them.”
    He said nothing.
    â€œOf course they’re yours.”
    â€œThere are tests, you know. DNA. You can buy them at Walgreens, for crying out loud.”
    â€œThen buy them,” she snapped. “Those boys are yours. You know that.”
    They stood on either side of the kitchen island. Even now, even in the midst of his anger and confusion, he could not help but see how beautiful she was. He couldn’t believe that with all the guys who wanted her, she had somehow chosen him. Corinne was the girl men wanted to marry. That was how guys foolishly looked at women when they were younger. They broke them down into two camps. One camp made guys think of lust-filled nights and legs in the air. Camp Two made them think of moonlight walks and canopies and wedding vows. Corinne was squarely in Camp Two.
    Adam’s own mother had been eccentric to the point of bipolarity. That had been what foolishly attracted his father. “Her crackle,” Dad had