The first punch landed clean enough to make my wife smile

 

“Melissa owed money.”

 

“To who?”

 

“People.”

 

“What people?”

 

“Before you and I got married, she got involved with a man who used her to move prescription pills. She testified against him. He had people looking for her.”

 

My heartbeat slowed.

 

That old sensation returned.

 

Information arranging itself into patterns.

 

“Witness protection?”

 

“No. She refused it.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“My father helped her disappear.”

 

The funeral.

 

Closed casket.

 

Quick burial.

 

Claire’s parents refusing an autopsy because the “injuries were too severe.”

I had believed them.

Because normal people believe grieving families.

“Why did you use her identity for the company?”

Claire wiped her face.

“Because she was the only person I trusted.”

“Trusted with what?”

Silence.

Then Rebecca answered.

“With almost two hundred thousand dollars.”

I looked at her.

“What?”

“We kept tracing.”

She handed me another sheet.

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