Chapter 3

Raven stared at her husband. He seemed ... uneasy. On edge.

Oh God, did he find out?

No. She was imagining things.

...And if he did find out, he would understand, wouldn't he?

A lump rose in Raven's throat.

"Raven ... uh ..." Garfield stuttered.

Spit it out, Raven willed.

"Raven ... erm ... uh ..."

Yes? Yes?!

"Do you want Chinese or pizza?"

Raven's mouth dropped open. Was that what he meant to ask her?

"Um ... Chinese," Raven tried to smile. "Don't forget the egg foo yung."

Midnight.

Garfield was most definitely not sleeping. He sat on the edge of his bed, watching Raven. She gave little contented sighs in her sleep every now and then.

I blew it. I should have just blurted it out.

He switched on his phone and stared at the photo again. He groaned. This was bordering on obsessive.

Richard.

He would know what to do. He always did.

"G'day, Rae!" Richard chirped as he pirouetted into the kitchen.

"Eek!" Raven dropped her mug of warm milk onto the floor. She proceeded to clean up the mess, tutting at him.

"Raven, be careful!" Garfield cried. Soon, drops of Raven's ruby blood were splattered on the floor.

Raven turned pale. "That ... hurt."

Garfield cradled her hand gently and kissed it, not conscious of what he was doing.

"You have to be more careful."

A strange emotion passed over Raven's face. Garfield looked up, heart thudding.

"What's wrong?"

Raven shook her head, looking dazed. "Nothing. Uh ..." she snatched her hand away from Garfield. "I'll ... fetch a broom and sweep this up." She eyed Richard grudgingly.

He held up his hands, laughing. "My deepest apologies, madam. Now ..." He turned to Garfield. "You told me about -"

Garfield grabbed his elbow and practically dragged him to the living room before Raven could catch wind about his suspicions.

"Ow!" Richard complained.

"Can you at least try to keep this a secret?!"

"Oh. Sorry."

Garfield sighed. "Look at this." He showed him the photo.

"Uh ... all I see is Raven talking to a fat ma-... whoah! No way." Richard's eyes bugged out of his head.

"What? What?" Garfield's heart skipped a beat.

Please no. He loved her too much to lose her.

"I totally saw this dude in a magazine the other day."

"About what?"

"Ah ... I forget. I'm sorry." Richard screwed up his face trying to recall the memory. "All I know is ... he has a huge house. They featured it in the magazine. He's mega-rich, mega-famous, apparently. Not sure of his profession."

Great. Raven has found herself a rich, successful boyfriend. He groaned and buried his head in his hands.

"Hey," Richard began. "Just because you saw them talking doesn't mean they're lovers or something."

"Not just talking," Garfield moaned. "She hugged him. And whispered in his ear. And ... and ... she was so happy when she came back home that day. Ah, Richard, you know what this looks like, don't you?"

Richard secretly agreed.

No. He wasn't going to let this happen. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

And he refused to lose Raven without a fight.

Garfield had an idea, and he was determined to make it work.

Who said spying was only for detectives?