I Know Who Killed My Wife

              The mist blanketed the cemetery as a cold autumn rain fell from the sky. Dark clouds sent their tears to the earth, pounding upon dozens of large black umbrellas. An area of the ground had been freshly dug up. A young man stood with sunglasses hiding his eyes and his sleek dress shoes were caked in mud. No other person attending the funeral could see his tears but they could feel his sorrow. The very air was thick with it. On this dreary morning, a blameless young woman was being laid to rest, a victim of a brutal homicide.
         A gentle touch to the man’s hand drew his attention downward. A young bright eyed girl was staring up at him, her face pale yet beautiful. “Daddy,” she whimpered quietly. “Where is Mommy?” The father felt an icy hand clutch his heart. Kneeling down in the mud, he took the small girls hand and held it tightly.
         “Do you remember,” he began softly. “What I told you about Heaven, the hidden castle in the sky?” The little brown headed girl nodded. “That’s where Mommy is. You see, Mommy was taken there because it was her turn to go be with the King. She’s in a place where she can be happy forever and ever.” The girl seemed confused.
         “Mommy is coming back, right Daddy?” A tear slipped from the father’s eye, emerging from beneath his glasses. Slowly, he shook his head, his throat too tight to speak. The girl nodded and sighed quietly. “But Mommy is happy.” The girl whispered. “So, everything is okay.” Sorrow or no sorrow, the father could not help but smile at his daughter’s innocence.
         “Mr. Carter?” A voice said from behind him. Turning as he stood, the young man recognized the sheriff of the local police station. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.” The sheriff continued. “I promise we’ll do everything in our power to track down Maria’s killer.”
         “Thank you.” Mr. Carter said, shaking hands firmly with the officer. “Please, call me Brian.” The sheriff nodded and returned to his vehicle parked a few meters away.
         “Daddy?” The little girl whimpered.
         “Yes, Emily?”
         “Can we go home? I’m cold” Brian bent down next to his daughter and somehow managed to smile.
         “How about we go home and I fix us up a batch of hot chocolate? Maybe we can watch a movie tonight.” Emily nodded but did not smile. Brian knew that the happy-go-lucky Emily he knew before his wife’s death was partly lost. And, to make matters worse, Emily had been particularly close to her mother.  Overwhelming pain crashed seeing his daughter like this. He only wished there was something more he could do to help her understand.
         Taking her hand, Brian led his little girl to their car. He placed her in the back seat and buckled her up. Then, he got into the car himself, buckled, and started the engine. He adjusted the rearview mirror and looked back at Emily. She was staring out the window at the fresh mound of dirt from which they had come.
Brian had just started to push down the accelerator with his foot when Emily suddenly began bouncing around recklessly in her seat. “Daddy, look!” she screamed. “There’s Mommy!” Brian whipped his head around and looked outside.
         No one was there. Sighing heavily, he looked at his daughter. “Emily, sweetheart,” he began softly. “Mommy is with the King, remember? She isn’t coming back.”
         “But I see her Daddy!” Emily argued. “She’s right there, waving at us. She paused and looked at her father hopefully. “See Daddy?” Brian felt absolutely helpless.
         “Emily, no one is there. We’re going home now, okay?” The young girl started to cry. Brian, unable to comfort her, simply drove out of the cemetery and onto the highway. The rain had let up a little by the time they reached their house. It was a small but cozy place just a few turns from the cemetery road. Pulling into the garage, Brian noticed Emily was no longer crying, but her face was soaked with tears. He got her out of the car and took her inside.
         “How about we have some hot chocolate?” Brian asked, setting her on the living room couch. Emily didn’t even acknowledge him. Surprised and slightly worried, he touched her face to make sure she wasn’t feverish. She felt fine, but she was so pale and sickly looking. He her shoes off her feet and wrapped her up in a blanket. Then, he went into the kitchen and started to make some hot chocolate. About ten minutes later, he brought two steaming mugs into the living room. “Here you go, Em…” Brian froze.
         Emily was gone. His hands trembled. “Emily?” he said loudly. He received no answer. He quickly set the mugs down on the coffee table and ran down the hall to her room. His heart was pounding. “Emily?” He reached her room and barged through the door. The panic that had risen in his chest quickly receded.
         There she was, sitting on the floor playing with her stuffed animals quietly. Sighing, Brian knelt beside his daughter and wrapped his arm around her frail shoulders. “Your hot chocolate is done. You want to come drink some with me?” Emily nodded slowly and Brian swept her up in his arms and took her out into the hallway.
         “Mommy wants to play with me.” The girl said suddenly. Brian’s eyes widened. A split second after Emily had spoken the electricity went out. He stopped for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. Strange. There was no lightning or thunder. Only a light rain. Why would the lights go out if…
         Brian cried out loudly as he brushed the wall with his shoulder. Something dark and wet seeped into his shirt. A horrible acrid smell overwhelmed so quickly that he gagged. The dark liquid dripped slowly down the length of the wall, forming a large puddle on the floor. Brian’s breath fell short. Was that…blood? Shaking with fear, he clutched Emily to his chest and took off down the hall.
         He had no sooner reached the living room when a glowing figure seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Brian’s chest tightened so much he couldn’t even breathe much less scream.
         “Brian…” a haunting voice whispered, echoing throughout the house. Frozen in terror, he stared wide eyed at the figure hovering above him. That was when he realized he’d seen this ghost somewhere before. Realization dawned and he suddenly found his knees giving out. He collapsed to the floor, still holding his daughter tightly. It was Maria, his wife. “Brian…” said the voice again. The entity raised her delicate finger and pointed at him. Then, she turned and pointed toward the front door.
         “She’s trying to tell us something Daddy!” Emily squealed. She began squirming around so recklessly that she slipped from Brian’s grasp. The little five-year-old girl stumbled quickly toward the door.
“Emily, no!” Brian yelled quickly as he shot to his feet. But his daughter had already opened the door. She stepped out into the rain as he father scrambled after her. She was pointing across the street to the neighbor’s house.
         “Mommy says those are bad people.” Emily said, looking up at her father. Stunned and terrified, he grabbed Emily and took her back inside, slamming the door behind him. Trembling from fear and from cold, he placed his hands on his little girls face.
         “Em, look at me!” Brian said, water mixing with the perspiration on his face. “Are you alright?” Emily looked at him and nodded. Then, she turned suddenly and glanced around the room.
         “Mommy!” she cried. “Mommy, come back!” she fell to the floor, screaming and crying. Brian gently picked her up and set her on the couch. He shivered suddenly and realized it was very cold. He could see his breath. Glancing at the mugs of hot chocolate he had made, he gazed in horror. The liquid had frozen.
         Quickly, Brian started a fire in the fire place and set Emily on the floor near it. As soon as he sat down beside her the electricity came back on. Light flooded through the house causing the two terror stricken people to cling to each other. They both sighed quietly.
         Brian stood to his feet and headed for the kitchen. He stopped abruptly when the smell of steaming hot chocolate reached his nose. He turned to see the two mugs no longer frozen, but with steam rising gracefully from each of the cups. Shivering, he went into the kitchen and grabbed his phone. He went back into the living room and sat down beside his daughter, wet from the rain. He took the phone and quickly dialed a number. Bringing it to his ear, he listened to it ring two times then he heard a familiar voice on the other end say, “Sheriff Wesley.”
         “Hello, Sheriff?” Brian began, trying to keep his voice steady. “This is Brian Carter.”
         “Ah, Brian!” the sheriff replied. “How are things going with Emily?”
         “Uh…fine.” Brian stammered. “But, I called to talk to you about something very serious.” He paused and gathered his courage. “I know who killed my wife.”