The Widow of Papina

by Katie Hamstead

  I raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

  She sighed again. “I mean, wouldn’t you like to forget about everything for just a while? I miss the Bray I knew before all of this, not that I blame you or anything, but I’d like to see you happy again. Wouldn’t you like to feel happy again?”

  I set down my sandwich as she sat stiff. I met her gaze as I pondered what she said.

  “Yes, Sarah. I would very much like to feel happy again. I’d like to stop feeling stressed, scared, lonely, and most of all, I’d like to stop feeling sad whenever I think of Forrest.”

  I reached over and took her hand. “He wouldn’t want me to be sad. He always made me so happy. Maybe it’s time I start moving on with my life.”

  A wide smile grew across her face. “Once a month I go out with the other girls to a singles bar down in Bearville. You should come with us, do a little harmless flirting, and have some fun. You’re still so young. We’re the same age and I definitely don’t feel old yet.”

  I chuckled.

  “So, come with us. You don’t have to meet anyone, just have some fun.”

  I smiled, swirling the water in my cup. “You know what, I think I will.”

  Her whole face lit up. “Great.”

  We finished having lunch and walked back to the Sheriff Station. On the way, she offered to take Jackson for me. I smiled, appreciating her more than ever. “Sarah, you’re a miracle.”

  She shrugged. “No, I just like the little guy.”

  Inside, the sounds of Clint and Paul talking came from out the back. We paused, and heard Clint say, “How long will you be?”

  “I don’t know. If Nova decides to talk, probably not long, if not, then who knows,” Paul answered.

  Footsteps rushed toward us and Paul appeared, pulling on a shirt. Shoot, there go my raging hormones again. He froze, blushed and hurried back.

  “What’s up with you?” Clint asked.

  “Sarah and Bray are out there.”

  Sarah’s face turned a deep red. “I might go.”

  “Okay.” I handed her Jackson and the diaper bag. “My keys are in there.”

  “Thanks. Take my keys so you can bring me my car when you’re done. They’re in my handbag.”

  I dug out her keys, and she hurried away.

  The instant she left, Clint stepped out, apparently on duty as he wore his deputy gear. “Hey, Bray.”

  I nodded, sensing something odd in the way he looked at me. “How’s Megan?”

  “Great.”

  “That’s good.”

  He slipped his gun out of the holster and spun it on his finger. “So . . . ” he walked toward me, “Don’t like guns, huh?”

  I cleared my throat, sensing him digging for something deeper. “Not really, no.”

  “I go shooting in these mountains during the summer. Get me some elk, deer, maybe even a bear if I’m lucky.”

  “I’m not a vegetarian, so I don’t have an issue with that.”

  He slipped his gun back in his holster and rested his hands on his hips. “So, have you ever been arrested?”

  “Ah . . . ”

  “Clint, really?” Paul shoved his shoulder, and to my relief, he was completely dressed.

  “She has a nice spread sheet.” Clint folded his arms and scowled.

  “Oh.” I laughed lightly. “Let’s see, underage drinking on several counts, a few fights?”

  “And, indecent exposure.” Clint’s scowl deepened.

  “Oh, I forgot about that.”

  His gaze shot to Paul. “She forgot?”

  I shrugged. “I was drunk and thought flashing the cop would get me out of the underage drinking charge. Apparently, most cops are upstanding citizens.”

  Clint leaned back, surprised by how upfront I was.

  “You’ll notice I calmed down though. I haven’t been charged with anything in years. Forrest settled me down. Before he came along, I was just a wild, crazy, college student, nothing to be worried about. I haven’t gotten drunk in years. In fact, Forrest never let a drop of alcohol in our house.”

  Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Would you do it now? Get drunk?”

  I rested my hands on my hips. “No. I have children to think about.”

  “See?” Paul rested his hand on my shoulder and looked at Clint. “She’s a city girl, what else do you expect? We’re heading out now. Thanks for holding the fort for me.”

  He firmly patted Clint’s shoulder and nudged me out the door.

  In the truck he said, “Sorry about that. We saw your criminal background check today.”

  I shrugged. “I was a stupid kid, but when I met Forrest my senior year, I didn’t feel the need to party like that anymore. I found happiness in him.”

  He smiled. “You seem to be finding it easier to talk about him.”

  “I think I’m finally accepting it,” I said with a heavy sigh. “As much as I’m still so angry that someone could do that to him, I know he’d want me to be happy, not hold onto my pain.”

  “I think so, too.”

  We drove the rest of the way in silence, but not an uncomfortable one. He just let me process my thoughts and feelings, for which I felt grateful.

  By the time we arrived at the Bearville police station, I’d completely calmed down.

  Several cops greeted Paul with handshakes as he led me through the station. I felt their eyes on me, and heard them whisper, “Must be the widow of Papina.”

  Paul sat me outside an office and tapped on the door. Someone cracked it open and they had a hurried, whispered conversation. It closed, and he sat beside me. “She’s not talking.”

  “She’s stubborn,” I said on a sigh.

  “She needs to talk.” He rested his head back and shut his eyes. “We might be here for a while.”

  I looked him over, examining his face and realizing why Sarah could be so hung up on him. He had a strong jaw, thick, dark hair, and I knew when he opened his eyes, their bright blue would be filled with kindness as he looked directly at me. I wanted to see that. “Paul?”

  He smiled and opened his eyes, looking at me just how I wanted and my heart fluttered. “Yes?”

  “Why am I called the widow of Papina? Surely there are other widows in town.”

  Sadness flooded into his eyes. “Yes, but none under the age of fifty, and their husbands died of . . . natural causes.”

  I nodded as my gaze fell. “And, I’m in my twenties with a murdered husband.”

  He didn’t answer, but his fingers twitched toward me. My gaze shot to his face and our eyes met. I wondered if he did feel something for me, but held back out of respect, or maybe fear of rejection again. With our gaze locked, I shifted my hand closer to him, brushing the back of my hand against the back of his. He smiled and his hand turned, wrapping around mine. My breath caught. Could it be possible?

  The door burst open and I pulled away.

  Paul shot to his feet. “Detective?”

  The man raised his hand. “I know you’re here for Nova, but it doesn’t look good. I’m afraid despite your insistence that she didn’t do it, it looks like she did.”

  I jumped up beside Paul. “No! She couldn’t have. Please, just let me—”

  “Mrs. Miller.” He turned to face me. “We would like to question you as well.”

  My mouth clamped shut with surprise. They’d questioned me months ago, right after Forrest disappeared, so I didn’t expect them to need to do it again. “Why?”

  “Just to cover all our bases.”

  “What does that mean?” My voice rose in volume. “You think I did something to my husband?”

  Paul caught my shoulders. “Let me sit in,” he said to the detective.

  The detective’s eye twitc
hed. “It’s your town, Sheriff.”

  He led us into a small room for questioning, and they both sat facing me. I hated how sterile and cut off the room felt.

  “Mrs. Miller,” the detective began. “When did you meet Nova?”

  “I first met her when Forrest brought me and our son, Jackson, in to meet his counseling group of teens almost a year ago now.”

  “And, what did you think of her?”

  “What does this have to do with Forrest’s death?” I clutched at the bottom of my chair.

  “Answer the question.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I thought she was a typical rude teenager, but knew that if Forrest saw potential in her, then—”

  “Did you sense she had feelings for you husband?”

  I paused. “Yes. Forrest and I talked about it, but I knew it was just a teenage crush—”

  “Did you know she acted upon her feelings?”

  I took a sharp breath. “No. But, Forrest—”

  “We have several witnesses that tell us she approached him after class and told him she loved him.”

  I waited for a moment, but when he said nothing more, I said, “So?”

  “So, doesn’t that make you jealous?”

  “No.”

  “Why? He’s your husband.”

  “I know he wouldn’t cheat on me.”

  “Why? Because he’s your husband?”

  “Exactly. That meant everything to him.”

  “Then, why did he drive her home afterward?”

  I hesitated as doubt formed in my belly. “He was a caring person. He wanted to look out for his kids.”

  “Why didn’t he tell you?”

  I leaned back, my jaw hanging. Why didn’t he? “I knew that he’d offered in the past, he probably didn’t think it was important.”

  “I thought you were best friends and told each other everything.”

  My blood ran cold. “Excuse me?”

  “Everyone who knows you has heard his ‘best friends’ speech.”

  I leaned forward, my anger bubbling up inside me. “Are you implying my husband cheated on me?”

  “The evidence speaks for itself, Mrs. Miller.”

  Paul tensed.

  I shot to my feet. “Forrest would never cheat on me, especially with a teenage girl. You didn’t know him like I did. He was loyal, and loving, and devoted to me and our family. From the moment I met him, he had more conviction in his pinky than I could ever dream of having. He worked hard and took good care of me. He wouldn’t screw that up for something like that.”

  Paul grabbed my wrist. “Bray, sit.”

  “Forrest didn’t cheat on me!” Tears rolled down my cheeks.

  Paul looked to the detective. “She’s right. I knew Forrest, too, and it was always Bray this and Bray that. It was rather irritating. He wouldn’t cheat.”

  The detective tapped his finger on the table. “Mrs. Miller, do you or your husband own a Swiss army knife?”

  “I believe Forrest has one somewhere.”

  “Could we see it?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure where he kept it.”

  “That’s fine, we would like to search your house anyway.”

  I held my breath. “What?”

  “Mrs. Miller, this investigation has come to a standstill, so we need to explore new options. The crime scene has been thoroughly searched and forensics have gone over your husband’s body with a fine-toothed comb.”

  I flinched, suddenly feeling sick.

  “Since our only ‘witness’ isn’t speaking, we need to check all possible options.”

  I looked to Paul in desperation. “Can’t I put my husband to rest?”

  “Don’t you want to find who did this?” the detective snapped.

  “Of course. I mean . . . ” My cheeks blazed. “If you’re done with Forrest’s body, can I please, please bury him? It’s been months.”

  The detective looked me over with a scowl. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Then, feel free to invade my house.” I leaned back and scowled, folding my arms.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Miller.” He stood and motioned to the door. “We’ll be in touch.”

  “What about Nova? Can I at least see her?”

  “No.”

  Paul cleared his throat. “I don’t see the harm in Mrs. Miller visiting her.”

  “Only next of kin.”

  “I am her next of kin!” I pointed at him. “I’m in the process of adopting her!”

  His eyebrow twitched as he again looked me over. “Strange that you would adopt the last person seen with your husband, isn’t it?”

  I pursed my lips, but refused to answer. He wanted to accuse me or Nova of something, anything, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

  He opened the door without looking away from me, and led me to a small holding cell.

  Nova shot to her feet, her eyes filled with concern. She shook her head at me and pointed to the door.

  “No, Nova. I’m here. They won’t let me take you home, but I’ll be back every day until they do, I promise.”

  She shook her head as a tear ran down her cheek.

  “Did they treat you right? Have they fed you?”

  She nodded, but refused to give me eye contact.

  I reached through the bars to touched her cheek. “I’ll do everything I can to bring you home. But, if you can, speak. Tell them what happened. It will bring you home and you’ll be safe.”

  She pushed my hand away and sobbed as she curled up in the corner.

  “Nova . . . ”

  She grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her.

  Paul softly grasped my elbow. “Bray, let’s go home.”

  I nodded and looked back at Nova. “Get some sleep, and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  In the car, silence reigned for almost half the trip. Finally, Paul cleared his throat. “So, the detective told me quickly that they’ll release Forrest’s body to you.”

  My head shot up. “What?”

  He smiled gently. “There’s a small graveyard tucked away at the south end of town. I’m sure we could arrange a plot for you.”

  My gaze fell to my hands. “That would be nice.” I stroked my hair over my shoulder. “I should call his sisters again.”

  “Hey.” Paul’s hand rested on my knee.

  I looked up at him.

  “They don’t really think you did it. They’re trying to dig something up to prove Nova did because the evidence points that way, but they have nothing to prove she actually did it. Something will come up. They’re still trying to figure out what caused those puncture wounds because they aren’t bullet holes. I bet when they do, she’ll be given the all clear.”

  “Mmm.” I stared ahead, watching the road zoom underneath us. “She’ll . . . ” I sighed. “Everything will be fine once I put Forrest to rest.”

  He squeezed my knee, so I rested my hand over his.

  I felt different to how I expected to feel. I thought I’d feel anger, hurt, and more than anything, grief. But, I didn’t. The thought of burying my husband after his months in a frozen tomb, then locked away in a freezer with forensics, felt like finally, finally, he could be put to rest. I felt relieved.

  Chapter 14

  I stared into the open grave at the casket below. I still couldn’t believe my Forrest was inside. As much as I slowly came to terms with him being gone, a piece of me still expected him to step up behind me and rest his hands on my waist.

  His sisters sobbed and wailed through the service. It didn’t surprise me. To them, he was a hero. He’d saved them from their stepfather and kept them on track.

  I’d
tried to say something, but when I stepped up, my tongue froze. I just stood there, my mouth gaping as tears blurred my vision. Mom rushed over and wrapped her arm around my waist and read my thoughts out for me. Although, she struggled to get through it. I’d written down Forrest’s best friend speech.

  But now, I stood there alone. Everyone agreed to give me space to say goodbye. I squatted, despite my black skirt, and ran my fingers over the edge of the hole. The dirt crumbled down, soon followed by my tears.

  “I love you, Forrest,” I whispered. “Rest now, and one day we’ll be together again. I wish I could just see you smile at me one more time, but . . . ”

  I sighed and pulled my hand back. “How can I move on without you? There will never be anyone like you. I wish . . . I wish you could tell me what to do.

  “You always said I was the confident one, but you, you kept me on course, so now I don’t know what my course is. There’s so much I just don’t know; like how to raise Jackson on my own, or how to care for Nova to help her talk again. How can I do all of it without you?”

  I stared down, wishing the soft breeze would carry a whisper of his voice to me, to tell me he was there.

  “Bray?”

  I jumped at the male voice. “Oh, Paul. You startled me.”

  “Sorry.” He stepped up beside me. “I saw you were zoned out, so I didn’t want to step up beside you and scare you out of your skin.”

  I gave him a quick smile before looking back into the grave. “It still feels surreal. But, I’m relieved. It feels like he can finally be left in peace. I know the murder hasn’t been solved, but at least now . . . ”

  I stared into the grave. “It must have been a violent end, and that thought makes me sick. He didn’t deserve that, not someone as good and caring as him. But, I like to think he died fighting for something he believed in. That sounds like him. Noble to the end.”

  Paul’s fingers wove into mine. “I’m sure that’s what happened, too.”

  I smiled down at the casket. “I don’t think I could ever love someone like I love him.”