By Wakefield Mahon
You hear them spout on about how hindsight is 20/20. I guess I haven’t had enough time to process it yet because I’m staring in the rearview mirror and still not sure what happened. Two days ago, I was a happy husband with a good job, well respected in the community, and yesterday it all disappeared.
I woke up yesterday, expecting the smell of coffee she made as part of our routine, she worked nights and I worked days, but we spent weekends together. When I couldn’t find her, I called her cell phone. Uneasiness gripped me when I heard her silly ring tone. I found the phone lying in a dirty pile of clothes she’d left on the living room floor.
I called the police. After an hour of questions about every man she’d ever spoken to and every disagreement we ever had, Detective Harris asked if I had a theory. I told him I thought someone had broken in. The blinds had been knocked down; she had been bugging me to replace them for the last month.
He told me he was sure to turn up soon. Still, something about the way he told me to stick around said he suspected foul play and I was suspect number one. I panicked and jumped in my car as soon as he’d left the block.
I don’t know where this road will take me but I’m leaving that crazy town behind. I know they’ll come for me, but I have to find her. Maybe I’ll find her at some highway rest stop hitching a ride. I need to know what happened – why she left.
The sun is so hot today, I feel like I’m burning up. Maybe I should pull over and find somewhere cool to stay until tonight.