Trembling Voices

Chapter 3

The last three weeks have been a living nightmare.

All I want is some time to myself, where I can think about what happened. That has been far from the case, though.

Between funeral arrangements and burial plans, I've been forced to deal with the constant traffic of people through my house. All of a sudden, everyone wants to console and comfort the poor old widow-if only they knew that I really needed their help while David was alive.

My mother helped me with the arrangements and such, thankfully. If it weren't for her, David would probably still be in the morgue as I struggled to decide what color his casket should be.

On top of that, everything was even more delayed by the police investigation behind David's death. Extra time was spent examining the body to find every last bit of forensic evidence that might lead to David's killer.

Now, though, I'm just happy that everything is finally over. David is six feet under, and as messed up as it sounds, I'm relieved.

As I'm sitting on my impeccable suede couch, I can feel the difference in myself-I've changed now that he's gone. I'm less panicky, and just much more comfortable, knowing that I won't have to face him. I haven't been this peaceful in years.

I close my eyes, allowing myself to take in the beautiful silence that surrounds me. It's 7:30 pm and since what seems like forever, there is not an angry David standing above me, yelling at me and telling me everything that I've done wrong. It is absolutely beautiful.

A knock sounds at my door, and I grudgingly stand from the couch to answer it.

It seems that I am not even allowed one night of peace.

Opening the door, I come face to face with a police officer.

"Mrs. Falk?" he questions simply. His middle-aged face is bored and uninterested, as is his tone.

"Yes?" I reply systematically, already too accustomed to dealing with the local task force.

"We're going to need you to come down to the station so you can recount the events of the day of David's death," he says.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes in frustration and merely respond with a "Sure."

I grab my coat and keys, and lock the door behind me as I head to my car.

As I'm driving to the station, for what seems like the one-hundredth time since David's passing, I can't help but wonder why they want me there. I've told them my story. They know that I have nothing to do with it, and yet here I am.

Pulling into the station, I take a deep breath before climbing out of my car and walking towards the familiar building.

-----------------------

"Hello, Mrs. Falk. I'm Detective Stone, and I've recently been put in charge of your husband's case."

I pull on my signature fake smile before replying with a simple, "Hello."

He leans back in his chair, dragging his silver eyes across me in a way that makes my skin crawl. I pull in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. The smile I had on my face fades instantly.

"Mrs. Falk," he starts, "How was your relationship with your husband?"

The question throws me off guard. I was expecting to list what I did the day David was killed, not to tell this disgusting detective about my marriage.

"It was fine," I say, keeping my voice firm as to not raise suspicion. "We had our ups and our downs but at the end of the day I was happy to have David by my side." The lie leaves my mouth with ease and smoothness; practice most definitely makes perfect.