Rating: ★★★★☆ Tags: Mystery Detective, General, Fiction

Tanner Bolt?
You sure that’s the way you want to go,
Nick? I feel like we’ve been pretty fair with you so far, pretty
open. Bolt, he’s a … he’s a last-ditch guy. He’s the guy
guilty people call in.’
‘Huh. Well, I’m clearly your lead suspect, Rhonda. I
have to look out for myself.’
‘Let’s all get together when he gets in, okay? Talk this
through.’
‘Definitely – that’s our plan.’
‘A man with a plan,’ Boney said. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
She stood up, and as she walked away, she called back:

---

‘Witch hazel’s good for hives.’
An hour later, the doorbell rang, and Tanner Bolt stood
there in a baby-blue suit, and something told me it was the
look he wore when he went ‘down South.’ He was
inspecting the neighborhood, eyeing the cars in the
driveways, assessing the houses. He reminded me of the
Elliotts, in a way – examining and analysing at all times. A
brain with no off switch.
‘Show me,’ Tanner said before I could greet him.
‘Point me toward the shed – do not come with me, and do
not go near it again. Then you’ll tell me everything.’
We settled down at the kitchen table – me, Tanner, and a
just-woken Go, huddling over her first cup of coffee. I
spread out all of Amy’s clues like some awful tarot-card
reader.
Tanner leaned toward me, his neck muscles tense.
‘Okay, Nick, make your case,’ he said. ‘Your wife
orchestrated this whole thing. Make the case!’ He jabbed
his index finger on the table. ‘Because I’m not moving
forward with my dick in one hand and a wild story about a
frame-up in the other. Unless you convince me. Unless it
works.’
I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts. I was
always better at writing than talking. ‘Before we start,’ I
said, ‘you have to understand one very key thing about
Amy: She is fucking brilliant. Her brain is so busy, it never
works on just one level. She’s like this endless
archaeological dig: You think you’ve reached the final layer,
and then you bring down your pick one more time, and you

---

break through to a whole new mine shaft beneath. With a
maze of tunnels and bottomless pits.’
‘Fine,’ Tanner said. ‘So …’
‘The second thing you need to know about Amy is, she
is righteous. She is one of those people who is never
wrong, and she loves to teach lessons, dole out
punishment.’
‘Right, fine, so …’
‘Let me tell you a story, one quick story. About three
years ago, we were driving up to Massachusetts. It was
awful, road-rage traffic, and this trucker flipped Amy off –
she wouldn’t let him in – and then he zoomed up and cut her
off. Nothing dangerous, but really scary for a second. You
know those signs on the back of trucks: 
How Am I Driving?
She had me call and give them the license plate. I thought
that was the end of it. Two months later – two 
months
later
– I walked into our bedroom, and Amy was on the phone,
repeating that license plate. She had a whole story: She
was traveling with her two-year-old, and the driver had
nearly run her off the road. She said it was her fourth call.
She said she’d even researched the company’s routes so
she could pick the correct highways for her fake near-
accidents. She thought of everything. She was really proud.
She was going to get that guy fired.’
‘Jesus, Nick,’ Go muttered.
‘That’s a very … enlightening story, Nick,’ Tanner said.
‘It’s just an example.’
‘So, now, help me put this all together,’ he said. ‘Amy
finds out you’re cheating. She fakes her death. She makes
the supposed crime scene look just fishy enough to raise
eyebrows. She’s screwed you over with the credit cards

---

and the life insurance and your little man-cave situation out
back …’
‘She picks an argument with me the night before she
goes missing, and she does it standing near an open
window so our neighbor will hear.’
‘What was the argument?’
‘I am a selfish asshole. Basically, the same one we
always have. What our neighbor doesn’t hear is Amy
apologizing later – because Amy doesn’t want her to hear
that. I mean, I remember being astonished, because it was
the quickest makeup we’ve ever had. By the morning she
was freakin’ making me crepes, for crying out loud.’
I saw her again at the stove, licking powdered sugar
off her thumb, humming to herself, and I pictured me,
walking over to her and shaking her until—
‘Okay, and the treasure hunt?’ Tanner said. ‘What’s the
theory there?’
Each clue was unfolded on the table. Tanner picked up
a few and let them drop.
‘Those are all just bonus fuck-yous,’ I said. ‘I know my
wife, believe me. She knew she had to do a treasure hunt
or it would look fishy. So she does it, and of course it has
eighteen different meanings. Look at the first clue.’
I picture myself as your student,
With a teacher so handsome and wise
My mind opens up (not to mention my thighs!)
If I were your pupil, there’d be no need for flowers
Maybe just a naughty appointment during your office hours
So hurry up, get going, please do
And this time I’ll teach you a thing or two.
‘It’s pure Amy. I read this, I think: 
Hey, my wife is flirting
with me
. No. She’s actually referring to my … infidelity with

---

Andie. Fuck-you number one. So I go there, to my office,
with Gilpin, and what’s waiting for me? A pair of women’s
underwear. Not even close to Amy’s size – the cops kept
asking everyone what size Amy wore, I couldn’t figure out
why.’
‘But Amy had no way of knowing Gilpin would be with
you.’ Tanner frowned.
‘It’s a damn good bet,’ Go interrupted. ‘Clue One was