text: Sweat was running down my back as I sat across from the police officer. These meetings had become so frequent that I should be used to them by now. Still, no matter how many times I sat in this chair, it never got easier. The officer whose name badge read “Perkins” cleared his throat and clasped his hands on the table. A cup of untouched coffee sat in front of me, the smell of Folgers filling the room. Oddly enough, it was the only thing settling my racing thoughts. It reminded me of Saturdays at my grandparent’s house when I would watch cartoons with them while they sipped away at the freshly poured cup in their hands. The smell gave me a sense of peace. It wasn’t much but it was something. Something I didn’t have much of these days. “A new piece of information has popped up regarding your case and we wanted to run it by you and see what you think.” I nodded instinctively, even though feelings of dread were slowly rising in my throat and causing my lungs to constrict. Words didn’t seem the appropriate response and honestly, I don’t know if I could speak them if I wanted to. Officer Perkins changed positions and leaned back in his chair, propping a foot on his knee and taking a long sip of his own cup of coffee. I couldn’t tell if he was just trying to act casual or if he was so desensitized to conversations like this, he wasn’t aware of his body language. Either way, it wasn’t helping my nerves. Then again, maybe that was the point. “We received multiple anonymous tips that your wife was killed, and her body was placed in a quarry a few miles north of here.” The ringing in my ears started at the word “killed” and I didn’t fully comprehend the rest. A quarry? Who could have possibly wanted to kill my wife? A million questions swirled in my brain. After 52 days of no word from her or idea of where she was, I had to admit that the thought had crossed my mind that she could have been killed, but it was too much to bear without proof. I hadn’t allowed myself to go there mentally or I would go insane. This is the first time the idea that she was dead was being presented to me. I got another whiff of the coffee from taking a deep breath and I almost gagged. So much for the peace it had offered only a few moments ago. “We are sending officers there to go check it out now. Does this sound familiar to you in any way?” I was confused by the question. I shook my head, words again failing me. “The first tip came in last night, but our officers were caught up in another situation and we couldn’t execute a search until today. That’s when we received a few more calls with everyone saying the same thing.” “How many people called with this information?” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “Four.” He responded while looking at me intently. I knew he was studying my reaction, and that made me sweat even more. In my head, I prayed that this was a rumor and nothing more. “Were they all anonymous?” I managed, my voice sounding less shaky than before. Officer Perkins just nodded. I looked for sympathy on his face, but I found none. My brain started racking itself, trying to think of who would have this information. There had been two suspects in the case, not including myself, who had been cleared in the case of my wife’s disappearance. I had also been cleared, but I know there were people who had their doubts. Potentially the man sitting across from me was one with doubts. I wouldn’t be surprised. Suddenly there was a knock at the door and he excused himself to step outside and talk to whoever did the knocking. I leaned forward on the table after he left and removed my glasses and rubbed my eyes. The bags under them were prominent at this point, the worry racking my brain late into the evening and even the early hours of the morning. Officer Perkins came back in and said, “A report has come in from the officers at the quarry. A few things have been recovered from the scene and we would like for you to take a look and see if you can identify anything they found.” “Was there...” I swallowed hard, not knowing if I could say the word. “Was there a body?” He shook his head and relief flooded me. “There is no report of a body at this time.” I put my glasses on and nodded, trying to stop the tears that were starting to well up. “The officers should be back soon if you want to wait here. Can I get you a new coffee while you wait?” I shook my head. “I need to make a couple of calls.” He nodded and left the room to give me privacy. Well, a sense of privacy at least. I knew the room was being monitored. I spent some time calling family members and friends, trying to understand who would have heard anything about the tip that came to the police. No one I talked to said they had heard that rumor before. I felt discouraged, wondering who would feel the need to share that information and more importantly, who believed it enough to share it with the police. My search rendered no luck, and as I hung up the phone for my last call, a knock sounded on the interrogation room door. I motioned for them to come in. Two officers entered. One of them was Officer Perkins and another one I hadn’t seen before. He was carrying an evidence bag. They took a seat and emptied the contents of the bag. It took me a minute to register what I was seeing. There was a scarf and a ring. Both had the appearance of what looked like blood on them. A chill went down my spine at the sight of the objects. Not just because of the blood, but because of what they were. There was no question they belonged to my wife. The ring was clearly hers. A simple gold band with a ruby nestled between two small diamonds had our wedding day inscribed on the inside of the band, 04/15/2009. It would be hard to disprove that it did in fact belong to my wife. While this on its own was concerning, it wasn’t the ring that made the pit in my stomach grow to unimaginable depths. It was the scarf. The scarf with fresh blood streaks down the middle. The scarf that had still been in her closet a week after she disappeared. There was only one person who would have been able to get that scarf at a time when I wasn’t home. My wife. “Do you recognize these items?” the officer who brought the bag in asked me, although they had to know by the look on my face that I did. I nodded. Again, words failed me. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her?” The other one asked. I had been asked this question before, and today, my answer was still the same. “No.” “Okay. Well, if anything changes, let me know. We will continue our investigation and be in touch with you.” They must have cut the interview short because they could see I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to continue this conversation. I walked out of the room and through the precinct, not fully registering my surroundings as I made my way outside to my car. I sat in the front seat and held the wheel as the realization of what had happened hit me like a semi-truck at full force. My wife was gone. Not dead, but something worse. She left. Of her own free will. She left me. And this was her sign for me to let go. She must have snuck in and grabbed that scarf when I was unaware. I kicked myself again for not putting up security cameras sooner. I finally did it, but it was far too late. As I drove home, I realized that all the calls were her. She led the police there, but more importantly, led me to the realization that she was never coming home.