Years before my life took an unexpected turn, I found comfort in my routine: working on the house, relaxing with a beer, and playing hockey with friends. My wife, Joy, and I had a steady life, though it wasn’t without its struggles.

The first signs of trouble were subtle: missed calls, late-night excuses, but I dismissed them, thinking it was just life’s pressures. Over time, Joy’s work trips became more frequent, and though I didn’t think much of it at first, she grew more distant.

I had a gut feeling something was wrong, but I ignored it. Then one winter night, everything changed with a phone call.

I was watching war movies, a regular thing when Joy was away, this time on a two-week trip to Houston. Midway through Band of Brothers, my phone rang. Expecting my friend Paul, I was surprised to hear a woman’s voice.

Detective Phillips from Vail told me Joy had been in a serious accident and was in a hospital in Eagle Valley. I was shocked. Joy was supposed to be in Houston.

That Saturday, I had watched a marathon of war movies: The Dirty Dozen, Enemy at the Gates, Saving Private Ryan, and stocked up on snacks for the weekend. I was annoyed at the interruption and hoped Joy had won a vacation somewhere warm, though I would have settled for her just being in Houston.

When I saw “Unknown” on the caller ID, I assumed it was Paul and answered with a grumble. But the woman’s voice caught me off guard.

She explained that my wife had been in an accident, but I insisted she was in Houston. The detective asked when I last spoke to her, and I said it was the night before.

When she read off Joy’s home address from her ID, I was stunned. Someone must have stolen her purse, I said, thinking I could press charges.

The detective asked me to come to the hospital and verify her belongings. Frustrated, I agreed and started the two-hour drive to Vail.

As I drove, my mind raced. I considered the possibilities. Maybe someone had stolen Joy’s wallet and gone skiing, or maybe it really was Joy.

But why would she be in Vail?

My devil’s advocate voice challenged me. How do you know she’s really in Houston? I realized I hadn’t seen her board the plane, so how could I be sure?

What if she’s cheating? the voice in my head asked.

If that’s the case, I’ll leave her, I thought. There’s no place for a cheater in my life.

Though I knew ending a ten-year marriage was drastic, I wasn’t going to live like my dad. I thought back to my parents.

When I was ten, my mom started spending more time with friends, and my dad grew paranoid. One day, I overheard her confess to an affair.

They tried to work things out, but my dad became controlling, making her quit her job and check in constantly. They eventually divorced after I graduated, and my dad, once a great detective, never recovered.

I rarely talk to my mom now, feeling like her actions broke my dad. I promised myself I wouldn’t end up like him, nor like my brother Daniel, who eliminated his wife and her lover after catching them together.

He’s now serving time in prison, so I had to find a middle ground. Handle it if Joy was cheating, but not lose myself in the process.

If she was unfaithful, I’d move on and enjoy life with my friends. As I got closer to the Vail exit, I grew more nervous, and even my inner voice went silent.

I nearly pulled over to throw up. Finding the hospital wasn’t hard, and I parked, walking through the cold to the entrance.

I hadn’t had anything stronger than beer since I got married, but I suddenly craved a bottle of Jack Daniels. At the information desk, I explained why I was there, and they gave me the room number.

When I got to the floor, I realized it was the Intensive Care Unit. I told the nurse who I was, and she called someone, asking me to wait by the door.

Inside, I was met by a short blonde nurse whose uniform strained against her chest. “Your wife is sedated,” she said softly.

I thought, if it’s even her, but I kept calm and listened.

“She’s badly injured and might not look like herself. She won’t hear you, but I want you to be prepared.”

I wasn’t sure if I was ready.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, my voice cracking. “Let me in.”

What I saw on the bed shocked me. The woman’s chest rose and fell, and while her height and build matched my wife, I couldn’t recognize her face.

“Did she hit every tree on the mountain?”

“Oh, no,” the nurse replied. “She didn’t ski. Someone beat her up and left her in an ambulance this morning.”

Beat her up? Faithful wives don’t end up beaten and abandoned, my inner voice agreed.

But I didn’t know enough to react.

“I can’t say if this is my wife,” I told the nurse.

“Maybe this will help,” she said, lifting the blanket to reveal the woman’s left thigh.

There it was, the tattoo. I hadn’t seen many women with Jiminy Cricket inked on their inner thigh.

She got it before our wedding, claiming it symbolized her parents, Jim and Ivonne, though I never quite believed that. Still, it was proof enough.

This was Joy.

Seeing her lying in that hospital bed was hard. The only other time I had seen her in this much pain was the day I met her.

It was after a Tool concert. My friends and I had a case of beer in the van for the afterparty when a girl came over asking for a beer for her boyfriend.

Chad told her, “You can stay and have a drink, but we’re not giving him one.”

She left, and a few minutes later, I heard screams. I ran over and saw her getting beaten by a guy, small with a serious case of small man syndrome.

He was yelling, “Where’s my beer, you witch?” while striking her.

No one was helping, so I stepped in, pulling him away by his collar. He threatened me, but I wasn’t scared.

When he tried touching her again, I knocked him out and helped her back to our van, where Chad was ready with an ice pack.

Security picked up the guy, and I wanted to report what happened, but she stopped me, saying, “You’ve done enough. No one’s ever stood up to Garrett. He’ll probably go back to Wyoming now.”

She was beautiful, even with her gothic look. We took her home after the party.

Chad, noticing something, said, “I think she’s into you.”

I brushed it off, but later found she had left me a note with her number.

Call me. Joy.

Two days later, I called her, and she was surprised but happy to hear from me. We talked for an hour, then she called me again that evening, and we talked until midnight.

Our first date was that Friday. We went to a small Italian restaurant, followed by drinks and dancing at a bar.

When I took her home, she asked, “Are you trying to get me into bed?”

I replied, “There’s plenty of time for that later. I like to wait a few dates. It’s more interesting that way.”

I kissed her on the cheek and went home, not seeing her again for three weeks. I didn’t want to admit it, but sleeping with women after the first date always seemed to end badly, so I became paranoid.

We talked on the phone whenever we could, but our schedules rarely aligned. When we finally had a free weekend, her aunt passed away and she flew to Florida for the funeral.

The weekend after her return, we went to the movies. When I picked her up, her father Jim greeted me at the door.

He seemed friendly at first, asking about my job and background, but then suddenly said, “You’re a much better match for Joy than that loser. Too bad he won’t meet me.”

“He met me,” I replied. “Hopefully he stays away.”

Jim agreed, muttering about the guy as Joy entered, smiling and wearing a dress that showed off her figure perfectly, making me reconsider my three-dates-before-sex rule.

We didn’t sleep together that night, though. She had to work early the next morning and asked me to hold off on our plans.

The next weekend, I took her out for dinner, but on the way home, she suddenly had stomach cramps and needed a bathroom. My apartment was nearby, so I rushed her there.

After she used the restroom, I didn’t expect anything to happen, but she walked out wearing only red underwear and high-heeled boots, telling me to take off my coat.

Needless to say, I took off more than that.

The next morning, we had breakfast at a shop nearby and didn’t go out again until Sunday dinner. As I dropped her off, she complained about her boss making her work weekends and joked about me being her favorite illicit substance.

Later, as I left the hospital, I was handed Joy’s personal belongings and told the police had already gone through everything. While I was processing this, the nurse’s phone rang.

After speaking to someone, she handed the phone to me. It was Detective Phillips asking me to come to the station for questioning.

I agreed, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that the cops suspected me of hurting Joy.

Why would I? I thought, because she’s a traitor.

I had no solid proof of her cheating, but her being in Vail was suspicious. I tried to think of a logical explanation.

Maybe she won a trip to Vail, flew to Denver, rented a car, and got into trouble before telling me. It was all too strange, but I had no concrete evidence.

I arrived at the station as the sun was setting. A brunette, Detective Phillips, and a tall man, Deputy Devon, came to meet me.

Phillips seemed friendly, but Devon looked at me like I was guilty of something.

“Should I get a lawyer?” I asked.

“Do you think you need one?” Phillips replied.

“No. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Detective Phillips led me to a room and motioned for me to sit. Devon went in the opposite direction.

“I’m going to record our conversation, Mr. Rigby. Is that okay?”

“Fine by me. Sorry about the prick thing,” I said, trying to clear the air.

She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“When I called you a prick on the phone. I thought you were my friend interrupting my me time.”

She looked curious. “What’s me time?”

“I watch World War II movies when Joy’s out of town. She hates them.”

At that moment, Devon returned and sat down.

“Ready?” he asked.

Phillips pressed a button for the record.

“Detective Desiree Phillips interviewing Mr. Roger Rigby in connection with case 1,256-G involving Joy Tanya Rigby. Mr. Rigby, please state your name, age, and date of birth.”

“My name is Roger Ezekiel Rigby. I’m thirty-five, born December 16th.”

“Your address and occupation?”

“1467 West Danu Avenue, Colorado Springs. I’m a bricklayer.”

“Where were you between 6:00 p.m. last night and 8:00 a.m. this morning?”

“Let’s see. I was in Manitou Springs from 9:00 to 7:00 repairing a fireplace. From 7:00 to 8:30, I was driving back to Jerry’s Bar, where I stayed until 11:00. I got home around 11:30 and stayed there until you called.”

“Can anyone confirm that?” Phillips asked.

“Blanche Donovan in Manitou can confirm I was working at her place. Paul Hannibal saw me at Jerry’s, and my neighbor Steven Harper can confirm I was home at midnight, three, and six.”

“How can Steven confirm that?” Devon asked.

“We both have dogs that need to go out at those times. He’s a night owl, so we always see each other when I walk my dog.”

The detectives exchanged glances, and Phillips continued.

“When did you last see your wife?”

“Monday morning. I drove her to the airport for her flight to Houston.”

“Why was she going to Houston?”

“For her company’s annual meeting. Only top performers go, and this was her third year.”

“What does your wife do?”

“She sells life insurance for TransUnited. You know, those annoying ads with the old guy telling a kid to prepare for the inevitable.”

Both detectives nodded.

“When did you last see her carry her suitcase?” Phillips asked.

“At the airport. I dropped her off before heading to work.”

“Did you have breakfast together?”

“No. We were going to, but she forgot her bag, so we had to go back home to get it.”

“How did she forget her luggage?”

“She thought I had grabbed it when I warmed up the car, but I didn’t notice it was still on the bed until we were almost at the airport.”

Phillips nodded and asked, “How often does your wife go on business trips?”

“Twice a year. Two weeks in February for the general meeting, and two weeks in August for training in Indianapolis.”

“And the general meeting is in Houston every year?”

“No. It changes. Last year was LA, and the year before that, New York.”

After conferring with Devon, Phillips asked, “Do you know anyone who might want to harm your wife?”

“Not that I know of, except maybe some of her clients.”

“Why would they want to harm her?”

“Well, the company has a sketchy sales tactic. People sign up for a free kids’ info kit, and then my wife delivers it and tries to sell them life insurance. Some people get pretty upset.”

“Did she meet with any clients in Vail?”

“I have no idea. She was supposed to be in Houston.”

“Do you think she could have been with someone in Vail?”

I sighed and gave the detectives a list of Joy’s colleagues. Some of them might have traveled to Houston with her. Maybe they could explain why she wasn’t there.

Devon sighed and looked at Phillips, who seemed satisfied for now.

“You can go, Mr. Rigby. Are you heading home tonight?” Phillips asked.

“No. I’ll find a motel.”

After their usual “we’ll be in touch,” I left the station, driving back to the hospital. I realized I had more questions than answers.

Was Joy playing me?

Less than a week ago, I dropped her off at the airport for her Houston trip, and now she was in a hospital in Vail.

At the hospital, I was told visiting hours were over and I could return at 7:00 a.m. I asked the guard for hotel recommendations, and he joked, “In Vail during ski season, cheap means staying with relatives.”

I laughed politely and walked to my car, remembering I still had Joy’s belongings.

I checked the inventory list but didn’t find what I was looking for. Among the items not returned was a prescription bottle of Percocet, which Joy had left over from dental work.

Why was she still carrying those pills?

Then I noticed her boots. Joy always carried them on trips, and I remembered she used to hide a key card inside.

Sure enough, I found one, but it was completely blank. No logos or identifying marks.

Now I had the key to her room, but where was her phone?

It wasn’t listed in the inventory or in her purse.

That was a good sign, I thought. A while back, my neighbor Steven developed a phone-tracking app after his partner kept losing his phone.

Joy had lost hers before, so I had the app installed on her phone too. I opened the app, entered her number, and saw I was four miles away from her phone.

I started the car and followed the directions up the mountain, arriving at a ski resort filled with luxurious lodges. I parked Joy’s BMW among the Lexus and Audis and made my way toward one of the lodges.

The app showed Joy’s phone was in room 114. I tried the key card.

Nothing.

I climbed the stairs and tried 214.

Then 314.

The key card finally worked.

What now? I thought. Should I confront whoever was inside or call the cops?

I listened at the door but heard nothing. Hesitating for a moment, I swiped the key card and opened the door.

The room was dark, lit only by the hallway behind me. I stepped in and turned on the light.

The room felt off. Too clean, like someone tried to make it look untouched.

The bed was made, but the quilt hung unevenly. Joy’s suitcase sat on the bed, neatly packed.

Her phone was charging on the nightstand, and her laptop was on a small table by the window.

This looks staged, I thought.

It didn’t seem like anyone had slept there, but it wasn’t professionally cleaned either.

I decided to take a closer look. I went to the bathroom and noticed a few wet spots on the sink, like someone tried to clean up without using proper cleaning products.

The soap was in the shower, and the towels, though neatly stacked, were damp at the bottom.

Someone had attempted to cover their tracks, but not well.

Back at the bed, I pulled back the blanket. The sheets were wrinkled as if someone had slept there, but there were no signs of violence, no blood or torn fabric.

What happened here? I wondered.

I sat at the table and picked up Joy’s phone. She never used passwords, so I accessed it easily.

As her laptop booted, I called my sister Beth to ask her to take care of my dog. Then I made the harder call to my father-in-law, Jim, explaining what I knew.

“I hope this is just a misunderstanding,” I said, trying to stay calm.

Jim sighed. “Call me when you know more.”

Next, I called my cousin Hugh, a detective, and asked him to contact the Vail police. He agreed and said he’d keep me updated.

I took one last step and called the lodge, asking for Joey Rigby or Joey McIntyre. No one by those names was registered.

By then, Joy’s laptop had booted up, but her browser history and emails were wiped clean.

She never deleted anything, so this was strange.

I checked her phone. Her text messages were also gone.

Someone’s covering their tracks, I thought.

I opened her suitcase and found one business suit, three cocktail dresses, and a lot of lingerie.

This isn’t a business trip wardrobe, I realized.

I knew now divorce was likely.

The next morning, after a quick shower, I left the room with Joy’s phone and laptop, but left her suitcase untouched. I had spent the night in a chair by the table, unable to sleep in the bed.

After a coffee, I called Detective Phillips to report the key card I had found. She arranged to meet me in half an hour.

After driving around Vail for a bit, I met Phillips at the police station. She greeted me and led me to her office, where I handed her the key card.

“You look like a man whose world has collapsed,” she said sympathetically.

“I think I’ll lose my wife over this. I’d like to hear her explanation, but I doubt I can believe it,” I replied.

“Don’t lose hope yet,” she said, though her face suggested otherwise.

I thanked her and headed to the hospital, where I was allowed to visit Joy for fifteen minutes every two hours.

During one visit, I stared at her, hoping she’d wake up and explain everything. Just then, Dr. Benson came to see me.

He explained that Joy was recovering but recommended transferring her to Denver for better rehabilitation. He mentioned her head injury and possible brain damage, but I could only focus on the uncertainty of what had really happened.

I signed the papers to transfer Joy and asked if I could handle the rest at St. Luke’s on my way home.

“Where’s your home?” the doctor asked.

“Colorado Springs,” I replied.

He looked concerned and made a call. A few minutes later, he returned.

“The plan has changed,” he said. “We’ll transfer her to St. Augustine’s in Colorado Springs. It’s just as good, and it will be easier for your family to visit.”

I signed new papers, visited Joy one last time, and left the hospital with tears in my eyes.

At least it’s normal to cry in a hospital, I thought. Anywhere else, people would stare.

On my way out of Vail, I called Jim and updated him. When I got home, I saw my sister Beth’s Jeep in the driveway, and I felt relieved.

Piper, my Doberman, greeted me at the door, and Beth was there waiting. She took one look at me and knew something was wrong.

I hugged her, told her I loved her, and everything came spilling out. I broke down, mourning the end of my marriage.

Beth stayed with me late into the night, trying to get me to eat, but I wasn’t hungry.

I still had to tell Jim everything, and she came with me for that.

When I finished explaining to Jim and Ivonne, I saw a shift in Jim’s face. He wasn’t sure anymore that Joy hadn’t wronged me.

He had worn that same expression once before during a difficult moment in our relationship.

We had been dating for several months, and one night, Joy canceled our weekend plans. I was annoyed but accepted it.

Then I heard Jim in the background yelling, “Tell that son of a witch he better meet me.”

Worried, I drove over. Jim met me at the door furious.

“You’re no better than that other prick. If you’re going to hurt my daughter, come at me.”

Shocked, I replied, “Hurt your daughter? What are you talking about?”

Joy and Ivonne came outside, and I saw Joy had a black eye.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jim shouted, “You struck her!”

I was stunned, but Joy quickly intervened.

“He didn’t touch me, Daddy. I had dinner with Garrett, and we argued.”

I walked away, too angry and hurt to stay.

Jim tried to apologize, but I told Joy, “We’re done.”

I drove aimlessly until I found myself near Garrett’s place. I knocked on his door, and when he opened it with a smug grin, I punched him in the face.

I kept punching him until he stopped reacting, then kicked him a few more times for good measure.

As I noticed moving boxes in his trailer, I asked, “Are you moving?”

He groaned, and I kicked him one last time.

“Happy trip,” I said before leaving.

When I got home, I iced my knuckles. The phone rang, and without checking the caller ID, I answered.

It was Joy, pleading, “Roger, please—”

I hung up before she could finish.

The phone rang again almost immediately, but this time I checked the ID. It was Joy.

I let it ring. For the next hour, the phone rang on and off before it finally stopped.

Ten minutes later, it started again. Annoyed, I checked, expecting Joy, but it was my cousin Hugh.

“Hey, Zeke,” he said.

He was the only one who called me by my middle name, a family nickname.

“What’s up, Hugh?”

“Just a heads up. CSPD got a call about Garrett Jimenez being in bad shape. He told the cops some big guy kicked his butt. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

I laughed. “Nope. No idea. But thanks for the warning.”

“Be careful, Zeke. If someone connects you to this, it could get messy.”

Not long after, the police showed up at my door, but I was prepared. I had my hockey gear set out, and the scratches on my knuckles looked like the result of a rough game.

I told the officer I had been practicing, and since I played for a police-sponsored team, he seemed satisfied.

On Saturday, I skated hard, preparing for the upcoming season. When I got home, I saw several notes pinned to my door, mostly from Joy, but one from Jim apologizing for assuming the worst and asking me not to hold it against Joy.

I called Jim, reassuring him. “It’s okay. You reacted how any father would. It’s not your fault Joy didn’t tell you the truth.”

“Thanks, son. Do you want to talk to Joy?”

I could hear her pleading in the background, but I replied firmly.

“No, Jim. She knew what Garrett was like, and she let you think I struck her. She ruined our plans so I wouldn’t see her face.”

“I understand,” Jim said, disappointed.

“I’m sorry, Jim, but I don’t have time for cheating women.”

As I finished explaining everything to Jim and Ivonne in the present, I saw Jim was reliving that memory.

“I’m glad they brought her here, son, but I hope you’re not planning anything drastic.”

“No, sir,” I assured him. “I’m not hiring lawyers yet, but Joy has a lot of explaining to do.”

“Whatever happens, Roger, Ivonne and I still think of you as family. I hope you won’t cut us out of your life.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

On the way home, Beth asked, “Will you be okay?”

“Do I have a choice? I’m not curling up and dying.”

“I’m sorry this is happening. If she cheated, is there any chance you’d stay together?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not going to be one of those paranoid husbands who tracks his wife’s every move.”

Beth sighed. “Mom asked about you. She loves you. Maybe you should talk to her.”

I shook my head. “So she can tell me cheating is normal? No thanks.”

Beth was protective of Mom, especially after our brother Daniel went to prison. She had asked me to visit more, but after one visit where Mom defended Daniel’s choices, I left.

I wasn’t going to accept someone telling me cheating was okay.

“I just don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret,” Beth said gently.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure I have the answers first.”

After Beth dropped me off, I headed to Steven and Joe’s place. I gave Steven Joy’s laptop, and he immediately started looking through it.

As I caught him up, he asked if he could keep it for a day or two to dig deeper. I didn’t mind.

Joe, trying to lighten the mood, joked, “I could set you up with my cousin if you want.”

I laughed. “Unless she’s got C cups and a shaved pubic area, I’m not interested.”

“Prude,” Joe teased, but I knew he was just trying to make me laugh.

I sat with Joe drinking a beer while Steven focused intently on Joy’s laptop. Joe, getting ready for bed since he had to wake up early, gave me a sly smile.

“I’ll be dreaming about your sexy newly single neighbor,” he joked.

I grinned. “Mrs. Jasper? She’s been a widow forever.”

Joe laughed, wished me good night, and headed upstairs. Steven stayed glued to the laptop.

When I left, I took Piper outside. We played a quick game of tag, but the cold made her decide it was time to head back inside.

After a few throws, I crawled into bed with Piper beside me. Joy had always hated when Piper slept on the bed, but I didn’t care about her opinions anymore.

Despite Piper’s presence, my restless sleep wasn’t entirely her fault.

The next morning, I had coffee and distracted myself with the sports section until 8:00 a.m. By 9:00 a.m., I was sitting in Bernie Jags’s office, Joy’s boss.



“What can I do for you, Brian?” Bernie asked cheerfully, though he always called me the wrong name.

I ignored it. “Can you tell me why my wife would leave the Houston convention and go to Vail?”

Bernie looked puzzled. “Vail? I didn’t send her to Houston. That meeting was for newer agents, not managing agents like Joy.”

I felt irritation rising. “What about those training meetings in Indianapolis?”

“Those are only a few days long. We leave on Sunday and return by Thursday.”

Something clicked, and I asked, “Has she been taking two weeks off and staying somewhere else?”

Bernie looked uncomfortable.

“Roger, sometimes people make choices that are hard to understand. I’m sorry if this news hurts.”

Anger flared inside me.

“Who was she with?”

Bernie hesitated.

“Promise me no one gets hurt.”

I stared coldly.

“Bernie, my wife is in a coma. I won’t hurt anyone.”

He sighed and gave me the name.

My heart sank.

That little weasel.

An hour later, my cousin Hugh called.

“How are you, Zeke?”

“I’m all right. What’s up?”

“We found out who rented the room Joy was staying in. We’ll invite him in for questioning, and if he refuses, we’ll arrest him.”

“Can I be there when you question him?”

“Jeb’s already agreed. I’ll call you when it’s set up.”

I spent the next few hours at the hospital, meeting with Joy’s brain injury team. Part of me wanted to abandon her, but I knew I didn’t have all the answers yet.

Jim and Ivonne arrived an hour before Joy’s transfer from Vail. I told them what I had learned.

Jim was shocked, and Ivonne begged me to wait before making any final decisions. I promised I wouldn’t hurt Joy, but I wasn’t sure if waiting was the right move.

When Jim asked if I could get through this, I answered honestly.

“I don’t know. I can’t trust her anymore. I saw what mistrust did to my dad, and I don’t want to end up like him.”

Ivonne, hopeful, said, “But you’ve taken her back before.”

“Yes, but we weren’t married then, and she wasn’t lying to me like this.”

I didn’t see Joy for three weeks after the fight with Garrett. By the middle of the second week, she stopped calling.

A week later, when I stopped avoiding calls, I realized we hadn’t officially declared our relationship exclusive.

She was still seeing Garrett. I didn’t call her, and she assumed we were a couple, but the fact that she let her dad think I touched her was a deal breaker for me.

After hockey practice, as I was heading to my apartment, I found Joy sitting by my door.

“I didn’t answer your calls, so you came here?” I asked.

“Do you have to be such an a-hole? I missed you.”

“Oh, really? Maybe you missed me while your boyfriend was still in bed.”

“So you’re mad about Garrett?”

“No. That’s not what bothers me. I’m mad you let your dad believe I struck you.”

I walked inside, and she followed me.

“We never agreed to be exclusive, so I can’t be mad about you sleeping with him. But I’m mad I didn’t see things clearly sooner.”

I tossed my gear aside and continued.

“We had some good times, but you seem to prefer guys who can’t handle their issues and beat you. Fine. I’m done.”

“Are you finished?” she asked, crying.

“Oh, I’m done. I just don’t get why you’re still here.”

“Listen, I’m sorry I let my dad think you hurt me. I canceled our date so you wouldn’t do something that would get you in trouble. I left my phone at home when I went to see Garrett.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m done.”

“No, you need to listen. I went to see Garrett because he was moving to Wyoming. When I refused to go with him, he hit me. I hid at Julie’s and went home to call you, but my dad saw me first. You know the rest.”

“Okay, I listened. Now I have a shower waiting.”

I don’t know why, but I asked, “Want to join me?”

I didn’t have to ask twice.

That night, we decided to be exclusive. Three weeks later, she moved in, and eight months after that, we got married.

The only time Garrett came up again was when she told me he died in a car accident in Wyoming and she went to his funeral.

Now, a decade later, Joy was being transferred to St. Augustine’s ICU. The doctors said she had a good chance of recovery.

Later, while waiting in the hospital, Hugh texted me that Cal Davis would be interviewed at 4:00 a.m. I told Jim and Ivonne I had an appointment and left.

At home, I got dressed in a suit and tie, knowing Sheriff Jeb Hannibal would expect me to look professional during the interrogation.

When I arrived at the sheriff’s office, Hugh met me.

“Vail police will join by video. You’ll sit out of view, and remember, don’t speak. It could jeopardize the case.”

“I know. I won’t attack him either,” I assured him.

We entered the building, and I spotted Katherine Shepard, the high school girl who always seemed out of my league, looking even more stunning than I remembered.

Deputies escorted her into the room, and Hugh teased me.

“Stop drooling, Zeke.”

Inside, Sheriff Jeb grinned.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.”

He pulled out a badge and deputized me so I could stay in the room as law enforcement.

Afterward, he hugged me. “Your dad was a great cop, and I know you’ll be one too if you ever finish that degree.”

Hugh and I left Jeb’s office, my new badge on display, as my thoughts drifted to Katherine Shepard.

I had always known she was out of my league, but I wondered if even she would have ended up cheating like the other women in my family. Maybe that was just how it was for us.

Daniel would probably agree.

We entered the room, and Hugh pointed me to a chair out of the camera’s view. He sat at the table, setting up the video conference.

Soon Detective Phillips and another officer joined us via speaker. A sheriff’s deputy brought in a slick-looking guy, Cal Davis.

He had that salesman look, always smiling even in a room full of cops. I had never met him, but I knew of him.

Joy’s mentor.

“Mr. Davis,” Hugh started, “this interview is being recorded.”

“No problem,” Cal replied confidently.

Hugh introduced the team, including Phillips and Detective Albert from Vail. Then he asked Cal if he understood his rights and agreed to speak without a lawyer.

Cal agreed.

As the routine questions about Cal’s whereabouts began, I quickly realized this guy wasn’t the one who hurt Joy. He had been sleeping with her, sure, but he didn’t seem the type to risk everything by getting violent.

Then Phillips asked the question I had been waiting for.

“Mr. Davis, where were you from Friday through Sunday?”

Cal explained he had been in Houston for a work meeting and spent the weekend with his wife. But when Hugh said they would call his boss to confirm, Cal’s confidence crumbled.

His tan face paled as he asked, “Can I tell you something off the record, without my wife knowing?”

It didn’t take long for Cal to confess to a six-year affair with Joy. He was visibly shaken when he learned she was in the hospital.

He claimed they drove to Denver on Friday, where Joy told him she had won a trip to Vail. He dropped her at the airport, and she called me while he was with her.

He said he went home, and his wife could confirm it. After a few more questions, Hugh told Cal he was free to go but not to leave town.

Before leaving, Cal asked for a private word with me. I agreed, and once we were alone, he looked defeated, far from the confident man who had walked in earlier.

“Roger, you know who I am, right?” he asked.

“Obviously. You seem to know me too.”

“Joy keeps your photo on her desk and in her presentation kit. She loves you, you know.”

I scoffed. “No, she doesn’t. If she did, we wouldn’t be here.”

“But I love her too,” Cal sighed. “I love her, Roger. And my wife, she knows about my feelings for Joy.”

“It started when I interviewed her for my team. We had chemistry, and one day after a no-show presentation, we had lunch near a military base and ended up making love at a nearby hotel. We both felt guilty, but we couldn’t deny the chemistry.”

“Not guilty enough to stop, apparently,” I said sarcastically.

“It wasn’t cheap or tasteless, Roger. Joy and I had something real.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to insult your little love story,” I replied, mocking him.

“I understand your anger,” Cal said, looking genuinely pained. “But I don’t regret loving Joy. Not one bit.”

I couldn’t believe the nonsense coming out of Cal’s mouth. I wanted to punch him, but I held back.

Joy wasn’t my problem anymore.

“So you don’t mind your wife running off with someone else twice a year?” I asked.

“No. It’s been hard enough sharing her with you.”

“You can have her now,” he said.

“You’re telling me to share her? Are you stupid? I didn’t even know I was sharing her. If I had, we wouldn’t have been together because I don’t tolerate cheating.”

“You’re right.”

“That’s why you two went on those trips? Mexico City, San Diego, Rio?”

“I went to Miami, Vail, and more. We had a system, one week with each other, then a week with our spouses.”

“Joy was gone for two weeks, and I only knew about Miami. So where was she the rest of the time?”

Cal actually started crying. “Did she cheat on me too?”

“Goodbye, Cal. She’s at St. Augustine’s Hospital, room 2410. Tell her dad I’ll be in touch.”

As I turned to leave, he asked, “You’re not going to tell my wife, are you?”

“I don’t even know your wife. Why would I hurt her? The guilt will eat you alive. Have fun living with that.”

Hugh was waiting in the hallway.

“Sorry, Zeke. I thought we had the guy.”

“I knew he wasn’t the one who hurt her. But how did this go on under my nose?”

Just then, we heard a commotion. Cal’s wife, Katrina Shepard, was slapping him.

“You cheating prick. Don’t come home.”

As she passed me, she hugged me tightly, sobbing.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. We just married cheaters,” I said.

She laughed through her tears. I wiped one away and said, “I hope things turn out okay for you.”

“Good luck to you too, Roger,” she said, kissing me on the cheek before leaving.

I looked at Hugh and said, “He had that at home, but he needed Joy.”

“Some guys just want what they can’t have,” Hugh replied.

We headed to Jeb’s office, where I returned my badge and listened to the usual lecture about becoming a cop. I had heard it all before, but maybe someday I would listen.

The next few days were stressful. I spent Tuesday finding a lawyer to protect me in the divorce.

Thankfully, Joy and I didn’t have kids. Piper was mine, and the house belonged to her grandmother, so I didn’t need to fight for it.

My brother and I inherited my dad’s house, and I was glad I didn’t have to move into some cheap apartment. Joy had been angry when I fought to keep the house after Daniel’s arrest, but I knew it was worth it.

Now I was glad I had it.

Late Tuesday, I went to the hospital. Jim was there, and when he saw me, he just shook his head.

“How long?” he asked.

“Six years at least, since she started selling insurance,” I replied. “But there might be more.”

“I can’t believe my daughter did this.”

“Me neither. I wouldn’t have married her if I knew.”

I told him everything Cal had confessed.

Jim sighed. “I always wondered why she stopped taking photos on her trips. She used to take pictures everywhere, even in Denver. Why didn’t I notice?”

“I didn’t either.”

I told him I wouldn’t visit the hospital anymore.

“I can’t talk to her again.”

Jim understood and asked if I would stay at the house until Joy recovered. I agreed, telling him I wouldn’t file for divorce until she was better.

I realized I would miss him and Ivonne. They treated me like family, and it wasn’t their fault they raised someone who betrayed us both.

On Wednesday, I spent the day working on a chimney repair and had a hockey game in the evening. I played rough, spending much of the first period in the penalty box.

After another penalty in the second period, the coach, a close friend of Paul’s, pulled me from the game, knowing I was dealing with personal issues but not wanting me kicked out of the league.

When I got home, I was in a bad mood from the loss, blaming myself for letting personal problems affect my performance.

My teammates wouldn’t let me take the blame, and a few even offered to go after Cal for me, though I might not have refused clearly enough.

After letting Piper out, I was about to go back inside when Steven called out, saying he would come over soon. I figured he had found something on Joy’s laptop.

The previous evening, I had gone through our bills and statements, but nothing seemed suspicious. The only odd thing was that Joy had been calling her friend Fiona more often before her trips.

Usually once a month, but more frequently as the trips approached.

I suspected Fiona knew more than I did, but I couldn’t reach her when I tried calling.

I also regretted not having Joy’s phone.

Steven arrived looking excited.

“What did you find?” I asked.

“Grab a beer, and I’ll show you,” he said.

We sat at the bar as he opened Joy’s laptop.

“Whoever erased the data knew what they were doing,” Steven said. “There are programs here that let her use the internet without leaving a trace. Luckily, I had help from a friend in the Department of Defense.”

“Is Joy some kind of computer genius?”

“No. She uses the same password for everything. Someone else set this up. I’m thinking Fiona.”

Steven found that Joy had hidden email and bank accounts. I told him about the trips I had learned of from Cal, and his eyes widened.

He also discovered love notes and deleted emails, some addressed to Cal, others to someone named Garrett.

“Son of a witch,” I muttered.

Steven showed me how to access the hidden bank account, which had over $10,000.

I arranged for the funds to be transferred to our joint account and closed the secret account. I also changed all the contact info so I would be notified of any activity.

Later, I called Detective Phillips, even though it was late. I told her about the bank account and how a debit card was missing from Joy’s belongings.

I also gave her a description of Garrett and where the card had been used recently.

“Thanks for the info,” she said. “You know, you should consider being a cop.”

“I hear that a lot,” I replied.

We said good night, and as I hung up, I envied and pitied her husband. Being married to a cop wasn’t easy, as I had seen with my own parents.

The next morning, I took Piper outside and saw Steven again.

“Hey, Steven, still have access to the DMV databases?” I asked.

“Always,” he replied with a grin.

I gave him a name to look into before saying good night and heading inside, exhausted from the long day.

The next morning, Jim called to say the doctors expected Joy to wake up soon.

“Have you thought about forgiving her?” he asked.

“No,” I said, explaining that I kept uncovering more lies.

He was devastated when I told him about Joy’s affair, but I didn’t mention the secret bank account.

Later, Steven arrived with news.

“You won’t believe this,” he said.

He showed me that Joy hadn’t lied entirely about going to Garrett’s funeral. She had gone to Laramie for Fiona’s funeral, Garrett’s sister.

That was when their affair likely started.

It got worse. The year Joy called me to meet her in Miami, Garrett had been in jail for petty theft.

His parole prohibited him from leaving Colorado, which explained why their trips became more local.

I called my lawyer to share my plan, and he assured me it could be handled legally.

Now I just had to wait for Joy to wake up.

Two weeks after coming out of her coma, Joy was questioned by the police. I followed Detective Phillips and Detective Albert down the hallway.

Garrett had been arrested after trying to intimidate a bank employee into giving him money from a card issued to Joy Rigby. The bank had flagged the card as stolen, and security detained him until Denver police arrived.

His parole officer was also interested in why he had left Denver without permission, so he was taken into custody.

When Phillips and Albert entered Joy’s room, I stayed in the hallway, but Hugh convinced them to let me listen in.

Detective Phillips even asked if I had any questions. I had a million, but I chose to let them handle it.

As they introduced themselves, Jim asked if they wanted the door closed.

Phillips explained they couldn’t lock the door since Joy wasn’t under arrest, but they had posted someone outside to prevent eavesdropping.

Joy seemed hesitant at first, denying everything until they confronted her with evidence that the hotel receptionist had seen her with both Cal and Garrett.

She eventually admitted to being involved with both men but was embarrassed to admit Garrett had beaten her.

Phillips then played a card I didn’t expect.

“Your husband believes you had two lovers without his knowledge. What you tell us might help him reconcile with you.”

No chance of that, I thought.

Joy confessed that she lied to me to attend Garrett’s sister’s funeral and that they rekindled their relationship that weekend. She claimed she still loved me, but Garrett suggested they secretly meet once a month.

She didn’t see how it could hurt me, so she agreed.

She then recounted how things started with Cal, saying she was attracted to the fact that they were both married. They would meet at company events and have secret rendezvous, and she gave me Miami to ease her guilt.

Lying again.

Any doubts I had about serving her divorce papers vanished at that moment.

When Phillips asked about the beating, Joy claimed she had angered Garrett by stopping her birth control to try for kids with me. Garrett, angry that she wouldn’t give him a chance to father her child, lost his temper and attacked her.

Her performance, complete with tears, was worthy of an Oscar.

Phillips asked one final question.

“Why do you have Jiminy Cricket tattooed on your thigh?”

Joy replied, “It was Garrett’s idea. He said it would be a way for him to always be with me without Roger knowing.”

That was when I walked into the room.

She called me baby and started apologizing, but I handed her divorce papers and said, “No need. You’ve already been served.”

I left as she screamed.

Five years later, a phone ringing in the middle of the night had become part of my job.

After getting the necessary details from the call, I kissed my pregnant wife on the forehead and her swollen belly.

She murmured sleepily, “Be careful not to start something you can’t finish.”

I smiled, kissed her again, and headed to the crime scene. As I arrived at a trailer, I reflected on how my life had changed.

Five years earlier, I had divorced Joy. I thought it would be a straightforward process, but I was wrong.

During the divorce, my lawyer noticed Joy hadn’t disclosed her secret bank account. I had wondered how she funded it, but a chance meeting with Cal Davis revealed everything.

He explained that Joy’s unreported income came from her bonus checks and commissions, which she funneled into her secret account with help from an accountant and some inside information.

I discovered Joy had earned over $120,000 in undeclared income over six years. I transferred $30,000 into our joint account and then suggested we split everything fifty-fifty.

Joy, however, demanded seventy-five percent, claiming she was being generous by not asking for half of the house I had inherited.

My lawyer fought back, and we eventually agreed to split the joint account equally, with her taking half of my business.

I sold my share of the masonry business back to my uncle and went back to school, completing my criminal justice degree. Now I work for the El Paso County Sheriff’s Department, far from the mess that was my marriage to Joy.

My lawyer was aware of every step I took and made sure everything was legal. He even had my uncle write me a receipt for a dollar when I sold him my business.

Joy had a smug look when she got her settlement check, but I’m sure that disappeared when she discovered her secret account had been drained.

My accountant worked some magic, and we showed all the money in our joint account came from legitimate sources. I paid the taxes, and Joy never realized she funded my education.

An anonymous tip to the IRS led to an audit, and while I was cleared, Joy wasn’t.

She ended up serving six months for tax evasion.

In a twist of fate, Garrett was blamed for stealing her money since he had her bank card. With his history and a weak defense, he was convicted and sentenced to thirty-five years in prison for theft and violating parole.

Meanwhile, Katrina divorced Cal, and he moved to Utah to start fresh.

After Joy got out of prison, she worked at a telemarketing firm. She sent me an angry letter blaming me for ruining her marriage and deceiving her and Garrett.

I tossed it in the trash and moved on.

When I told my buddy Paul about the letter, he joked that I should have sold her to a brothel.

I responded that she’d probably enjoy it.

I spent three years as a patrol officer before becoming a detective. While the Colorado Springs Police Department handled most major crimes, we saw plenty of domestic violence cases.

The only time I pulled my weapon was when a woman threatened me with a knife after I arrested her abusive husband. That was a year and a half ago, and I have been a detective ever since.

I still don’t understand why some women stay with abusive men, especially after seeing countless sufferers.

One case involved a woman beaten to death, surrounded by empty beer bottles. I knew by the end of the day I would have the husband’s name and start the search.

It seemed like a clear case. Either the husband killed her in a jealous rage, or an ex-lover was involved.

As I reviewed old patrol reports, I realized that at least I wouldn’t get flack from my boss for this case.

A year and a half into my detective career, a new detective transferred to our department. All I knew was that she came from the north.

But one night at a party near the station, I was surprised to see Desiree Phillips.

We talked for a while, and though some of the other detectives weren’t thrilled with a patrol officer chatting with her, we hit it off.

We became friends, and even after learning she was single, I didn’t pursue anything. I was jaded by relationships and didn’t want to complicate things.

We hung out occasionally, going to dinner and movies, but I never saw it as dating.

One night after a tough case, I took her to a bar. I stayed mostly sober to make sure she got home safely.

When I helped her to her apartment, she asked me to take off her boots, then hugged me.

She’s drunk, Zeke, I thought. She’s your best friend, and you can’t take advantage of her.

I pulled away, and suddenly she didn’t seem so drunk anymore.

“Why don’t you want me?” she asked. “What’s wrong with me?”

“First, you’re drunk, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship with a regretful memory. Second, I’m just not ready. After everything, I have trust issues.”

“Did you enjoy kissing me?”

“Of course. You’re one of the sexiest women I know,” I started, but she cut me off.

“Come with me. I’m not drunk, and I’m not easy. I’ve only been with four guys, and you know the stories.”

She later admitted she had liked me from the moment we met in Vail but never thought I would end up working in law enforcement. When she transferred, she took it as a sign.

That night marked the beginning of our relationship, and a year later, we got married.

A month later, we welcomed our first child. My boss wasn’t thrilled about her needing maternity leave and constantly teased me about getting her pregnant.

I used to joke with Hugh that Norah, our son, could be his godchild, but he wasn’t amused. He also didn’t like that I took a month off for paternity leave, but I didn’t care.

Desiree, to my delight, loves World War II movies, so life is pretty good now. I just hope Piper is okay with having both Mom and Dad around full-time.

Something tells me she’ll be just fine.