Chapter 2

I didn' t waste a moment. I went to the photo album on the dusty bookshelf, the one we started when Stella was born. I found the best picture of Jenny, smiling, her eyes bright with a future she never planned to share with me.

I took it down to the copy shop and had them blow it up, printing a simple caption underneath: "In Loving Memory of Jennifer Lester. 1968 - 1994."

Next, I went to the VFW hall. It was a dim, wood-paneled room that always smelled of beer and old regrets. I found old man Hemlock, who played Taps at every military funeral in town.

"Mr. Hemlock," I said, my voice thick with practiced grief. "It' s my wife, Jenny. She' s gone. We haven' t found her, but... I know. I need to hold a memorial. For closure."

He put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "Of course, son. Anything you need."

The news spread like fire in a dry field. Small towns feed on tragedy. By evening, everyone knew. Poor Ethan Lester, his wife gone, left with a baby and two old in-laws to care for.

I went home and set up the memorial. The big photo of Jenny on the mantelpiece, candles lit on either side. I put out some coffee and the cheap cookies Maria from the diner had dropped off.

Then I waited.

Just after seven, a car pulled up. My in-laws, back from their nightly bingo game. Her father, Frank, stormed in first, his face red and blotchy. Her mother, Carol, followed, her mouth a thin, hard line.

They saw the picture, the candles, the somber neighbors murmuring in the living room.

Frank' s face went from red to purple.

"What the hell is this, Ethan?" he roared. "Are you trying to jinx my daughter? You take that down right now!"

I stood up, holding the fake suicide note. My hand was shaking, but this time it was with rage, not grief.

"She' s gone, Frank," I said, my voice breaking just right. "This note... it' s all I have left. I have to honor her memory. Even without a body, I have to say goodbye."

"Goodbye? She' s not dead!" Carol shrieked, her voice cracking. "She' s just... she' s found herself in some trouble, that' s all! She' ll be back!"

"Trouble?" I said, letting a new wave of fake panic wash over my face. "What kind of trouble? We have to tell the police! I' ll drive to the city right now. I' ll go to her job, the auto-parts distributorship. They need to know she' s a missing person!"

That hit the mark. Pure panic flashed in their eyes.

"No!" Frank stepped in front of me, physically blocking the door. "You can' t do that! A police report? It' ll ruin her reputation! She' ll lose her job for sure! Just wait. She' ll come to her senses and come home."

They weren' t protecting her life. They were protecting her new life. And I had them right where I wanted them.