Chapter 33 - The Husband I Buried

Now

We drove back to my place, Jess waiting for me to buckle into the passenger seat of her car before leaving the parking lot.

The ride was silent except for the rhythmic swish of tires against wet asphalt, the city stretching away behind us like it wanted no part in what we were doing. Streetlights streaked past the windows, blurring into something indistinct.

It was close to midnight when I flicked on the living room lamp, the low amber glow throwing long, spidery shadows across the walls. The room felt colder than it should, like a window had been left open. I went to the casement window and checked, just to be sure, but it was closed and locked.

Tess padded out from the hallway, tail wagging.

‘Well, who’s this?’ Keith asked, crouching low, his voice instantly lighter.

‘Oh, that’s Just Tess,’ I said, the joke even funnier to my tired brain in the middle of the night.

‘Tess!’ Keith gave a sharp whistle. The pup bounded over, tripping over her own paws in her rush to greet him.

Jess smiled despite herself. ‘Hi, Tess.’

‘Nice place,’ Keith said, straightening. His gaze skimmed over the furniture, the framed photos, the orderliness of it all. ‘I don’t know where to sit. Don’t wanna mess anything up.’

‘Sit wherever you like,’ I said.

Keith drifted toward the window. Tess followed, nails clicking on the floorboards, her head tilted toward him like she already trusted him. He peered through the glass, and my stomach dipped when I realized what he was looking at.

I joined him at the window.

Next door, Greg’s house sat in darkness, except for one light still flickering upstairs. Was Greg still up, or was it just faulty wiring in a forgotten attic?

‘What’s with the haunted house?’ Keith asked. His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

‘That’s Greg’s house,’ I said.

‘He live alone?’

‘Yeah. I think so.’

‘In that big house, all by himself? And he’s home Friday night? The guy needs some adventure in his life.’

I looked at Keith. I could imagine him taking off on an adventure if he ever got too comfortable. He seemed like someone who liked to stay on his toes. He probably slept on the floor, working on his survival skills, keeping his body tough and his mind strong.

Keith’s stomach growled, the sound amplified in the contemplative quiet. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘You got anything to eat?’

I found a half-stale bag of chips in the cupboard and tossed it to him. ‘Might want to check the expiry.’

He didn’t. Two handfuls later, he held the bag out to Jessica, who shook her head, watching him like you might watch an animal at the zoo during feeding time.

Keith was about to dip back into the bag, but my words stopped him.

‘There was a break-in,’ I said.

‘What?’

‘They tried to get in through the kitchen window.’

‘Let’s take a look,’ said Keith, sounding almost eager to have something to do instead of sitting around talking.

I led them into the kitchen. Jess was unusually quiet, and I felt bad for keeping her awake so late.

‘Here,’ I said, stopping at the kitchen window. Up close, you couldn’t see where it had been damaged, but Keith angled his head, as if seeing something I couldn’t.

‘They painted over the crack,’ he said, going to the kitchen bench and gesturing toward the knives. ‘Do you mind if I . . .?’

I saw Jess shift uncomfortably.

‘Go ahead,’ I said.

He pulled a knife from the block and went back to the window, scraping at the brand-new paint, sliding the tip of the knife along the edge so that the paint came away, exposing the damage. ‘See, the hinge has been replaced, but the wood was painted over.’ He dug out some paint and poxy until he got to what he was looking for. ‘Someone worked at it,’ he said, running the knife along the crack. ‘You should have it fixed properly.’

‘So the police were right,’ Jess murmured.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Someone tried to get in. Or got in but left without taking anything.’

Keith nodded, locking in. ‘All right. What else do we know?’

I hesitated, then went to the console table. I opened the drawer and took out the envelope. Keith took it from me, turning it over. He opened it, inhaled, then covered his nose with his hand, his expression changing.

‘Jesus,’ he muttered. He held the card away slightly and looked at me. ‘Was he still wearing that shit?’

My stomach dropped. ‘You recognize it?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It got passed around when we ran out of deodorant. We were worried the enemy would smell us. I guess it was better than the stench of sweat, which would’ve given us away anyway. That smell’s kind of burned into my memory.’

‘He wore it all the time,’ I said quietly.

Keith read the message and slid the card back into the envelope. ‘This wasn’t random.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘They wanted me to write my answer on a piece of paper. They said they’ll collect it.’

Jess folded her arms. ‘How?’

‘They didn’t list a number,’ I said. ‘They don’t want me to contact them. They said they’ll come back for it, but they didn’t say when.’

Jess looked away, like she wasn’t sure how to respond.

‘Are you gonna go?’ Keith asked.

The house creaked softly around us, settling.

‘I don’t know,’ I said.

‘You could go to the police,’ suggested Keith.

‘Wouldn’t that be dangerous?’ asked Jess, unexpectedly.

I turned, surprised. Usually she would’ve been all for it.

‘I’m just saying,’ she clarified. ‘In these situations, don’t people eventually ask for ransoms, or something? If he was alive, you could be putting him in more danger.’

Keith’s lip jutted. ‘Ransom? Unlikely after so many months. See, the problem here is, no one’s gonna believe Mackenzie saw her husband. So, an exclusive Tupperware invitation might not get their attention.’

‘So you don’t think they want money?’ Jess asked Keith, who shrugged.

‘I told the police about the note,’ I said. ‘They pretty much agreed with Keith, that it looks like some fancy junk mail I’d forgotten about.’

Keith nodded once. ‘OK. So we don’t wait for them to follow it up. We find out what we can. What else?’

I drew a breath. ‘Luis got off at Barkley Station the day I saw him.’

Jess frowned. ‘Barkley? Does he know anyone there?’

‘Not that I know of,’ I said. ‘But a lot can change in four months.’

Keith wiped his hands on his jeans. ‘I think I’ve got our next move,’ he said.

I felt my pulse kick. ‘Go on.’

‘We check out Barkley Station.’

Jessica blinked. ‘You’re not serious.’

Keith grinned. ‘Why not?’

Jessica looked at me, silently begging me to come up with a reason why we couldn’t go. But I was already thinking it through – Luis getting off the train, the timing, the note. ‘It makes sense,’ I said. ‘We should take a look.’

‘Even if Luis was there then,’ reasoned Jessica, ‘it doesn’t mean he’s there now.’

‘Maybe not,’ I admitted. ‘But it’s a start.’

Keith tilted his head, a shadow passing across his face. ‘Here’s the thing,’ he said slowly. ‘When Luis was dismissed, he mentioned he was going somewhere to debrief. We talked about it because we were both from Massachusetts.’ He cleared his throat.

‘Where was he going?’ I asked.

‘Barkley,’ he said.

The room felt suddenly smaller. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

‘We need to go to that station,’ I said.

I was getting closer to finding out what really happened to my husband. I could feel it.