Midnight Promises. Eileen Wilks

in touch with anyone I used to date—not in person, not by mail, not at all. And there’s no reason for any of them to have your address.”

      “Well.” She cleared her throat. “There wasn’t any return address on the envelope, so I tried to read the postmark, but it was smeared. It had U.S. postage, though. It didn’t come from Borneo or Paraguay or wherever.” She put her cup down. “Jack, what’s going on?”

      “Unlike you, I did tell people about our marriage. But not my old girlfriends. I notified ICA headquarters. You’re covered by my insurance now.”