No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 30

Eleanor turned around—sure enough, it was Faye. She managed a polite smile. "Faye, is something wrong?"

Faye's gaze was direct, almost uncomfortably intense. "Eleanor, this research project is crucial for me, Gwenda, Callie, and Horace. It determines whether the four of us can graduate from our master's program."

Eleanor nodded. "I understand."

"That means every member of the team is essential," Faye pressed on, her tone losing some of its courtesy. "To be blunt, everyone on this project has strong credentials. You haven't even finished college. Are you sure you can keep up? I'm not trying to offend you, but you need to be realistic."

"I understand your concern, but I promise, I won't be a burden to the team," Eleanor replied evenly.

"If you insist on staying with the team, then I hope you'll keep your hands off the critical parts of the experiment," Faye said, her voice hardening. "You just don't have the expertise. If something goes wrong, it's not just your reputation on the line—it's all of us, and Dr. Lyman as well."

Eleanor was momentarily taken aback.

"Of course, you could just withdraw now," Faye added, turning away with a haughty air. "I heard you got married. Maybe you should focus on your family. This field isn't for you."

With that, Faye strode off, leaving Eleanor standing there, silent for a moment, before she turned and walked toward her car.

…

Eleanor headed home first, planning to pick her daughter up later around four o'clock and take her shopping for some necessities.

As she pulled out onto the street below her house, she found the road blocked—a construction crew was frantically repairing a burst water pipe. Forced to take a detour, she arrived at Evelyn's school much later than planned. It was already a quarter to five when she hurried inside. Evelyn's teacher spotted her, surprise flashing across her face. "Mrs. Goodwin, Evelyn's already been picked up. Didn't you know?"

Eleanor's heart skipped. "Who picked her up?"

"It was Miss Shannon."

Eleanor's expression darkened. Ian actually let Vanessa pick up their daughter?

She quickly pressed the teacher. "Miss Shannon isn't family. In the future, please don't let anyone other than me or my husband take my daughter. Thank you." Without waiting for a reply, she left.

The teacher watched her go, puzzled. Wasn't Miss Shannon Evelyn's aunt? Why did she always see her together with Mr. Goodwin?

Back in her car, Eleanor immediately called Ian.

He picked up right away. "Hello?"

Eleanor's voice was sharp. "Give me Vanessa's address. I'm going to bring Evelyn home."

"She's not at Vanessa's," Ian replied, unfazed. "She went to my mother's house."

Eleanor took a deep breath to steady herself. "If Evelyn was going to your mother's, I should have been the one to take her. Why did you let someone else pick her up?"

There was a pause on the other end before Ian responded, "Serena picked her up."

Eleanor exhaled, irritation blossoming into something darker. The urge to file for divorce felt stronger than ever.

Suddenly resolved, she scrolled through her phone for the number Joy had given her—the private investigator. She dialed without hesitation.

A man's voice, gruff but businesslike, answered. "Hello, who's this?"

"Hi, I need your help tracking someone down," Eleanor said.

Sensing a job, the man's tone warmed. "Sure thing. Let's meet and discuss the details."

Eleanor wasn't willing to wait any longer. She would do whatever it took to win custody of her daughter—she needed more evidence.

The next morning, they met at a café. Eleanor wore sunglasses; the man sat across from her, disguised in a cap, mask, and sunglasses, looking even more secretive than she did.

After some conversation, he relaxed and revealed his face—a sharp-featured man in his forties. He explained he used to work as a tabloid photographer but had since become a private investigator.

"We've talked a lot, miss, but you haven't told me—who exactly am I supposed to investigate?"

"My husband," Eleanor answered.

He grinned knowingly. "So, you want me to get photos of him cheating, right?"