The urge the compulsion to write was eating at her. More importantly, the desire to tell a story, true in nature, about her best friend Mae and her husband Tom.
When she normally wrote stories that took the reader to far-reaching locations or events that included mystery, plots, romance, love or even controversy, words tumbled over one another running through her like a fast-moving river. Her heart was racing as an idea formed and she could no longer resist the tug.
It was deeply personal to her best friend, Mae. She asked if she could write about her situation and only after being given the ok, had she considered doing so. The story contained all of what she loved writing about and contained so many plots twists and turns she wasn’t sure, at first, which was the right way to start the story. She simply knew she had to get it right, perfect because Mae deserved that. Jenna wanted to set the record straight on her friends’ behalf, but she didn’t want to throw her into the limelight either. She’d suffered enough of that. She deserved peace and quiet, serenity, relaxation.
Mae’s husband had disappeared, mysteriously. They’d enjoyed breakfast together with bacon eggs hash browns and toast as was their Saturday morning routine. After relaxing with a cup of coffee, they’d cleared the table enjoyed a romantic interlude and he’d said he was off to do some Christmas shopping. The last time she’d seen Wade, he’d dropped a kiss on her nose, given her a hug and departed.
She hadn’t worried when he’d been gone for several hours as he was particular about his parents and friends, always looking for the perfect gift for the recipient and always took his time when choosing each item. Mae had always admired that about him, but when four hours turned into eight, she’d begun to worry so she hopped into her car and started driving around Main Street where she figured he might have gone shopping since there were several unique outlets with the items he loved most.
After driving for an hour through town, peering into parking lots and not finding his car, she returned home and began calling friends in the hopes he’d dropped by for a few minutes or perhaps one of them might have seen him in town, but to no avail. It was then she called the police.
Since it was Christmas, the police chief and friend, suggested Tom had been caught up in shopping and assured her he though Tom was fine, but he’d have his men keep a lookout anyway. Mae found it difficult to sleep that night and crawled into bed tossing and turning. This wasn’t like Tom. He didn’t just disappear and if he was gone longer than he’d intended, he’d always thoughtfully called to inform her where he was or when he’d be back so she wouldn’t worry.
The wrapping on the door woke her and sitting, she checked the time on the bedside clock. It was 8:33 a.m. She’d remember that moment forever for it was the beginning of the end.
Grabbing a housecoat, she tied it around her waist and ran her fingers through her hair as she raced to the front door. The police chief stood there with a grim look on his face. She’d known instantly it was bad news. Mae invited him in, and the deputy closed the door behind them as the chief advanced toward her and taking her hands in his, squeezed firmly held on and gave her the terrifying news. They’d found Tom’s car out on the edge of town, but they hadn’t found Tom.
He guided her to a seat and taking the one beside her began asking questions.
That was the beginning of the ordeal, the nightmare, the horror that was to come. There was so much more.