Killing Me Softly (#Wattys2016)

THIRTY-SEVEN

THIRTY-SEVEN

He had known they were watching him. But he had been prepared for the scrutiny. When his in-laws had flown in and were staying at the house, he would sit in the living room clutching one of her sweaters. When he heard them approach, he would comment quietly that he hoped she wasn't cold before he would break down in tears. His mother-in-law would rush over and comfort him, murmuring that she would be found, that she would be all right, they just had to keep believing, keep the faith. His father-in-law would paw his shoulder in an attempt to disperse quiet strength. Finally, he would say he was okay and how much he appreciated their being there.

He stopped eating in order to give himself a gaunt appearance and took caffeine pills at bedtime, leading people to assume he was struggling with endless sleepless nights. It had worked. Everyone the police questioned all said the same thing; he was extremely distraught, working round-the-clock to spread the word. Coupled with his alibi... no one would ever suspect a thing. Sometimes he felt guilty, but he would swat it away like an annoying gnat. After all, the most important thing was that no one ever figure out the truth.