My Husband Is Dead,So Who Keeps Calling?

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On the third day of his business trip, my husband posted a photo of himself locked in a kiss with some gorgeous woman.

The caption was shameless: I cheated. It was a rush.

I tapped the like button, then picked up the phone and called the police. "Hello, I want to report a crime. My husband is dead. He's been dead three days."

The officer confirmed it twice. "So because he posted something online, you think he's dead?"

"I don't think. I know."

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The two officers exchanged a glance, then looked back at me.

When I wouldn't back down, one of them held out his hand. "Could you show us that post, please?"

I found my phone and told him plainly, "He deleted it."

The station went quiet again.

The lobby was full of grins, and some guy wandered over to enjoy the show.

"Sweetheart, your man just cheated on you, that's all. Did it scramble your brain or something?"

I didn't bother with him. My voice was flat and certain. "My husband is dead. Someone killed him. You need to send people to investigate."

The guy kept going. "You want the cops to catch the other woman for you? Even if your husband's dead, he died in her bed, ha ha. Go on home."

The officer gave me a stern warning too. "Ma'am, tying up public resources without cause carries legal consequences."

No matter what I said, none of them believed me.

"I told you, he's really dead. What you should be doing right now is chasing down a killer!"

"We consider this report a domestic dispute. If you suspect your husband was murdered, ma'am, you need to provide evidence."

I lost my patience. "We've been out of contact for three days. Isn't that enough? Fine. Then I'm reporting a missing person."

"Ma'am, your husband posted online an hour ago. His whereabouts are accounted for. That doesn't qualify as a missing person."

It was obvious they were done talking to me.

All I could think was that every last one of them was a complete idiot.

"Fine. I'll call him. Then you'll believe me, won't you?"

The officers, already turning to leave, turned back to look at me.

I dialed my husband's number.

Three calls. All of them hung up on.

At the same time, my mother-in-law, who'd gotten word, came hurrying into the station.

I dialed again and looked the officer dead in the eye. "See? Missing."

"Try a few more times. He'll pick up."

Everything I'd held down for so long broke loose right then. "How is a dead man supposed to pick up the phone!"

But the next second, the call connected.

Everyone crowded around.

There was a faint rustling on the line.

Then a hoarse voice. "Hello?"

They all let out a breath of relief, every face saying the same thing: See, your husband's alive.

But what I said next made their blood run cold.

"That's not my husband's voice."

I kept talking into the phone. "Who are you? What did you do to my husband!"

The officer took the phone from me, on guard now. "Is this Lester Chavez? This is the city police station."

No surprise, the call went dead.

The officer was silent for a moment, then said it anyway. "Send a unit out."

Before they could move, my mother-in-law rushed to stop them. "Wait! Wait!"

I turned and took her hand. "Mom, I know you're worried about Lester too, but the most important thing right now is finding his body. Everything else, we can sort out later."

Instead, she yanked her hand out of mine.

She jabbed a finger at me and started shouting. "Who's worried? My son isn't dead at all. Bah. Don't you go cursing my son! Officers, I'm sorry for the trouble. My son is fine."

I was stunned.

Aside from me, the person in this world who knew my husband best.

That was his mother.

Could she really not tell that voice wasn't Lester's?

"Mom, that voice just now, that clearly wasn't Lester!"

She rolled her eyes. "You think you know him better than I do? That's my son! Officers, don't listen to her. My son called me not long ago. Don't believe me? Look."

With that, she pulled up her call log.

The entry at the top was labeled "son."

Call duration, three minutes.

Time of call, one hour ago.

How was that possible?

Lester had died three days ago!