February Sucks - Gone Girl

"How did that make you feel Jim?" Molly asked, although in a more thoughtful tone.

"I can't explain how I felt. How would you feel if the person you loved did that to you? The love of your life, your spouse of ten years, your best friend?" I was worn out and spent. I stopped and took a long draw of my Coke then asked for another. Molly nodded and left the room.

Westin continued. "OK, just you and me, man to man, tell me what was going through your mind when Dee told you."

"I don't know exactly, so many things. How could Linda do this to me, to us? That was first and foremost. Then I thought, 'this can't be.' Was she coerced? Did the ass hole put something in her drink? I quickly realized he'd been nowhere near her drink. Was he in cahoots with the bartender? Maybe Dee or one of our other friends did something. I guess I was trying with all my might to think of a logical explanation, and all the while, Dee just kept saying 'It's just one night. She'll come back tomorrow and everything will be as it was.' I thought, 'what a stupid bitch.' She couldn't possibly believe everything would be like it was ever again, having known Linda and I for all this time. No way she could think I'd let this go."

Molly came back in, opened my soda and put it in front of me.

"So I suppose, I was mostly confused at first, then angry. Angry at what I consider a predator, mad at my wife, and lastly at my friends. When I got back to the table, I could see the looks on their faces. They all knew."

"What did you do when they mocked you Jim?" Molly asked.

She was starting to really piss me off.

"I never sad they MOCKED me, detective." My reply dripped with sarcasm.

Westin gave her another admonishing look.

"They all took her side though. They seemed to think, I should be cool with it, because it was Marc the asshole LaValliere. The celebrity." I threw a $20 down and told them I never wanted to speak to any of them ever again, and left."

The two detectives glanced at each other again.

"So then you went back to your hotel room?" Westin continued his interrogation.

"Yeah," I said quietly. I didn't want them to know I cried like a damned baby. I was embarrassed enough as it was. "I didn't know what to do. She was gone. I found a brand new pair of lingerie laid out on the bed. I didn't know if that meant her liaison was premeditated and the sexy outfit was there to twist the knife in my heart, or if it meant she planned to wear it for me. If it was the latter, then how could she have left with him? It just created more questions, and no answers. I broke down a bit. Then I decided I needed to get out of there."

Again with the sideways glance. What were these two not telling me?

It was Westin who dropped the bomb and heightened my recognition of the situation.

"OK, Jim. So you were basically a beaten man. Suppose you tell us what happened when Linda got back to the room?"

What? What did he just say? I must have looked surprised at the question. The obvious mistake.

"What? What do you mean, when she came back? You already know she didn't come back. Still hasn't. Why am I here? If you're looking for Linda, why aren't you at LaVallieres house?"

Westin quickly said, "Jim, come on. It's ok. We understand, believe me, we do. No man could put up with that level of disrespect, that level of humiliation. Just tell us what happened. She came back to the room, and then what happened? You two argued, maybe it escalated, got out of hand. Maybe she threatened you with a divorce or the kids, you know, when it got nasty. Tell us what happened, Jim."

"I think I need an attorney," I said quietly.

"OK, Jim. If that's how you want to play it," Westin said with a degree of sorrow in his tone.

I was stood up, turned facing the wall, as Hathaway handcuffed me for the second time tonight, as Westin read me my Miranda rights. I was in such a fog, I can't even tell you what I was being charged with.

"Hello Mom?" I said.

"Yes it's Jim. Listen Mom, don't talk please. I'm in trouble. I don't have L. W.'s phone number."

L.W. was a longtime family friend, and a long time attorney of some notoriety. Semi-retired now, I only hoped he'd agree to represent me.

"Mom, PLEASE. I'm under arrest and this is my one call. I'm at the precinct on 4^th Street. I need you to call L.W. and tell him I need his help. NO, Mom! I can't talk about it right this minute. Please just get ahold of him, send Dad over to his house if he doesn't answer."

It was 1:30am as I looked up at the well placed clock. The second night in a row I was up at least two hours past my bedtime. I had been running on...well, honestly, I have no idea what I was running on, but right now, whatever it was had been almost totally depleted.

"Mom, OK. Thanks. Thank you. No, I'll fill you in later. Yes I promise. Yes. Bye Mom. OH WAIT! Mom, listen, can you go to the house and take Emma and Tommy with you? Yes. They were left there with Linda's friend Jane. Yes, that Jane. No Mom, she's not my friend anymore. Please go get the kids and keep them with you until L.W. gets me out of here. Yes. I love you too."

If the two large biker types decided to rape me in the holding cell, I wasn't aware of it. I slept like the dead. Still, I awoke and all the stress and panic immediately came back. Somehow, these inept cops thought I'd done something to my wife. What the hell was wrong with them? If in fact, Linda was still missing, why were they wasting time with me, if the ass hole was the last person to see her? To be with her.

At 10:00 or so, I was led into a larger conference room. There waiting for me was the legend, L.W.

"Good to see you boy." L.W. stood and put his large strong hand on my shoulder. At least a part of L.W.'s success over the years had to be his ominous and imposing stature. Even at seventy, L.W. seemed larger than life. He stood a whopping 6'4" with broad shoulders, and a tailor made striped suit.

We sat down, and I started in, unable to stand it any longer. "What's going on, L.W.?" I asked. The question seemed to throw the old man off his nut. He just stared at me.

Finally, he spoke. "Jim, your friends triggered a wellness check. That's something that gives the police an opportunity to intervene outside of any waiting period of 'missing persons' if they think or suspect a person may be in imminent danger. They want to know where Linda is."

"That's easy," I said confidently, "She left the club with Marc LaValliere. Went to spend the night with him. Snuck out the back door, leaving a fool of a husband in her wake. Why don't they just go to his house? I'm sure that's where they'll find her, that is if she didn't go home yet."

L.W. looked at me like I had two heads. He rubbed his white goatee with his left hand for a long moment. "Jim, look at me son. Swear to me, that Linda never came back to your hotel room later that night, and swear to me you haven't seen her since."

"Easy." I stated emphatically. "No she didn't and no I haven't." Staring him in the eye.

He searched my face for a long time. Finally, he said, "Jim, I believe there's a lot going on here you're unaware of. What time did you check out of the Madison?"

"I think a little after one in the morning. OH!" I got a little excited at a sudden revelation. "There was a girl...a younger woman at the desk, and she seemed especially interested why a guest would be checking out in the middle of the night. We spoke briefly before I left. She knows I was alone."

"I don't think things are that easy, but that's a start. That, and the hotel security cameras. I'll put pressure on Detective Westin to check those out as corroboration. He's a fair man and a good detective."

After a long sigh, L.W. exclaimed, "Jim, I need to bring you up to speed. First, I've secured your release. You have to stay in the county."

"What am I being charged with?" I pondered more than asked.

"They aren't charging you...yet. They can't find your wife. Your friends think you had something to do with her disappearance. The best they can do right now, would be conspiracy to commit murder, or conspiracy to commit kidnapping. Without a body or further evidence, neither charge would ever stick."

"I don't understand."

"Jim, the dance, the leaving the club. It was all supposed to be a joke. Albeit a very ill-conceived and sick joke, I must confess. Linda and your supposed friends set you up. You were supposed to go back to the hotel heartbroken, I guess, and then Linda was to come strolling in.

He let that sink in. "L.W. are you saying that, she was playing me, and was supposed to come back to the hotel? Why would she do that? Where the fuck is my wife?" I screamed.

"Easy boy. One thing at a time."

"Screw that, L.W.! That prick has my wife. Fuck! Her life may be in danger. Oh fuck! Maybe he convinced her to run away with him for real, and forget the joke."

"Son, calm down. Where's he gonna go? He's one of the most recognized football players in America. Relax a moment. Listen to me. I've spoken to the detectives and read the statement of concern that triggered the wellness check. Your friend Phil, and corroborated by the others, claim he has a friend of a friend who personally knew Marc LaVallieres double. His body double. One, Joseph Jackson. They used him to pose as Mr. LaValliere as part of the scheme. The real LaValliere was hosting about twenty people in his home on the night in question, so he has an alibi, and was not anywhere near the club. According to their statements, Jackson was supposed to take Linda for a ride in a limo rented by your so-called friends, give you enough time to leave the club, then return her to the Madison. Dee was to text her when you left, so Jackson and Linda could coordinate the timing."

Now I was the one looking stunned. How could any of these people do this? It wasn't a joke, it was a diabolical plot to destroy a marriage. What could Linda have been thinking? It had to be that bitch Dee. She was always calling me straight-laced, or Mr. Wrapped-Too-Tight. Always ripping into me about lightening up, although she always did so just on the edge of 'joking'. I knew it was condescending though. I knew how she really felt. I never said too much to Linda, because Dee was her best friend. Shit. SHIT!

"L.W. where are Tommy and Emma? Are they at my parents? I need to get over there. We need to leave right now. I need to talk to Phil and Dee. We have to..."

"Jim. Damn it boy. Settle down. I know what you're going through. Believe me. I've been at this a long time, son. First, you are not to talk to any of them. I've already had my people contact them to set up a time to come to my office and take their statements, as is our right as part of your defense. I'm..."

"My defense? Are you crazy? Clearly, I had nothing to do with it. I didn't even know about this...plot."

"Doesn't matter. Your friends confessed to the plot. In their complaint, they state Linda returned to your room. Dee was never able to contact Linda, by call or text. Their theory is that you lost it, maybe a fight escalated when Linda returned, and you did something to her."

"But..."

L.W. interrupted, "But nothing! Now the security tapes from the Madison will show you left alone, but more importantly, that Linda never entered the hotel. Or she did and was accosted by some other person. I need to get to Westin right now. You need to go be with your children and your parents. Do nothing else. Jim, listen to me. I know you want to find Linda. I need to remind you this is still an active investigation. The spouse or the aggrieved party is always the top suspect. In this case, you would be both of those. So if the detectives can solve this quickly by hanging it around your neck, they will. I have a feeling those security tapes will put a major hole in their case theory. I can get Westin to turn ahead the clock, since he's already investigating a crime, unofficially. You go home. Do not talk to your friends, and for God's sake, do not talk to the press."

"The press? Why would they want to talk to me?"

"Jim, It's Marc LaValliere. Remember? Oh, one more thing. You need to provide a DNA swab before you leave."

"Why? What if I refuse?"

"Jim, did the detectives offer you a beverage when they brought you in for questioning?"

"Yeah"

"Then they already have your DNA. Be smart and cooperate. We'll get to the bottom of this. Take a cab or Uber to your parents, and stay there until I contact you. OK?"

Emma and Tommy were wild when I got there. I could sense the fear, trepidation and nervousness as they hugged me and wouldn't let go. Finally, Mom took them into the kitchen to make some cookies. My Mom was the best! I sat with my father and tried to lay out the whole sordid tale. He seemed absolutely shocked at Linda's behavior, or specifically, her willingness to go along with this stupid and hurtful prank. I too had my reservations. Had someone tried to make a bet that Linda could do something like this, let alone act upon it, on a night we'd both declared our special night, I would have bet everything I had against it.

Finally, I told Dad I needed to lie down and rest for a few hours. I wasn't going to be any good to my kids, or anyone else, with nothing left in the tank. I popped in the kitchen and told my mom and kids the same.

I took my time in solitude. After a 4 1/2 hour nap, I felt more rested, and just lay there collecting my thoughts, sorting through everything that had happened in two short days. On the one hand, my wife had not exactly betrayed and deserted me. On the other, she had played the cruelest of "jokes" and may have decided to double down on it, leading to a shit storm that had already engulfed me, our kids, my parents, the cops, my lawyer, my ex-friends and God only knew who else. She could also have decided that she'd gone too far, and simply taken off with this Jackson asshole. Finally, she could be in real trouble. The idea she may have been kidnapped quite frankly didn't pass the sniff test with me, I'm ashamed to say.

Prior to Friday night, kidnapping would have been where my mind had gone first. That was way back when I'd thought I knew her better than anyone and also believed she loved me heart and soul. Her and my ex-friends actions, however, proved to me that I barely knew her, let alone well. Whether there was foul play or if she used this event with a small e, to simply leave me, it would probably be some time before I saw Linda again. That meant I was now a single dad. I was going to have my plate full, and would need to enlist some help. L.W. was dead on; I needed to let him handle all the legal stuff, and focus my attention to family.

Still, the thoughts plagued me: what happened to my wife? What would make her do this? Do this to us, and our kids? I wouldn't get any answers without talking to said ex-friends, but I knew that with the investigation in full swing, those answers wouldn't be coming in the next few days. Further, I didn't trust the cops to do their jobs. I'd never really spent any amount of time considering police competence or lack thereof. Now, I wanted to jump into action and join the hunt for Linda. Wouldn't I be more adept at helping to locate her than a bunch of strangers? The reality hit me like a smack in the face. Being biased or too close to the situation might actually hinder me. I'd be operating on emotions, whereas the lawmen wouldn't be.

I made some mental notes: find daycare. Enlist Mom and Dad where possible. Find a child therapist to help the children with their loss. Ask L.W. what I should be doing financially, and to protect our - I suppose my - assets for the time being. Talk to the school and the kids teachers, as if they wouldn't find out what was going on. Talk to my supervisor, lest he find out from someone else first. I didn't think about Linda's parents until right now, and suddenly wondered why I hadn't heard a thing from them. Did they believe I had something to do with Linda's disappearance?

Oddly, I felt better. I'd made a tick list of the things that were in my power to control, while casting aside a few that weren't. Finally, I found myself hungry and remembered I hadn't eaten hardly anything since dinner at the Madison. Mom had made lasagna. Boy, I remembered why I loved my parents so.

Monday morning found me in a Skype call with my boss, explaining as much as -- or, rather L.W. -- thought was prudent. Since L.W. had basically put me on unofficial house arrest until further notice, I asked if I could do some of my work remotely. Ben, my supervisor, was kind enough, imploring me to take some personal time with all that was going on. I explained that I'd lose my mind if I had to sit cooped up all day. He compromised with what equated to about a two hour per day work load, mostly filing and double-checking reports.

At about 4:00, I received a call from L.W. "Afternoon son. You have a minute?"

"Of course." He wanted to come by the house that evening to bring me up to speed on the events of the last several hours and to give me some further instruction.

"Can you make sure your mother or your dad is watching the kids in another part of the house? We're going to be covering several sensitive topics that would only upset them." I assured him that was doable and we'd be ready around 6:30. "One thing you should know before I get there. The investigation is moving in a different direction at the moment. You can take a deep breath for now, but that doesn't mean it won't come back around if some of these other leads don't pan out."

Mom volunteered to play sitter, so Dad and I joined L.W. in dad's study. The crafty old lawyer pulled three cigars out of his breast pocket, and handed one to my father. I don't smoke anything, and the old codger simply shrugged and put one back.

"Ok, first some good news. Detective Westin and his partner have observed the hotel security footage and it substantiates that Linda did not return to the property, including emergency exits after she left with you for dinner Friday night." He paused to let us absorb that.

"It's important you understand, police work is a process. The process almost always works like this; a significant other is the first suspect in missing person cases and murders. Secondary evidence and leads must be followed up on, and if those dry up, it's back to square one; the spouse. Sometimes, that process can be altered, but here we have a high profile case involving a nationally-recognized sports star. They will be going by the book - just in case - I'm sorry, your wife is found deceased, God forbid. That means you need to be taking actions that only an aggrieved and stricken husband would. Work, kids, home, eat, sleep, repeat.

Do not take any suspicious moves or actions. Use only the money you need to live on. Do not transfer or move any funds. Do not make any changes on taxes, insurance, or retirement accounts. We are operating on the premise that Linda is alive and 'missing.' You are not to talk to the press, and you need to turn down all interview offers. Initially, this may paint you in a bad light, but trust me, in the long run it's the best thing for you. Start looking for a child psychologist specializing in grief counseling. If I come up with other things that need attending to, I'll let you know."

"I understand, and I already thought about a counselor for the kids. They'll need it, and not for pretense's sake," I replied somewhat proud of myself.

"Okay, next order of business then. I met with..." he checked some notes he had in hand. "A David and Deandra McCullough and a Philip and Jane Bronson today. I meet with Paul and his wife..."

"Jeannie" I finished for him.

"Yes. Tomorrow. I'm sure you're eager to hear what the first four had to say. I'm giving you the short version here, again for your own good."