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

NICK DUNNE
SEVEN DAYS GONE
I
made it a few steps into the woodshed before I had to
lean against the wall and catch my breath.
I knew it was going to be bad. I knew it once I figured
out the clue: woodshed. Midday fun. Cocktails. Because
that description was not me and Amy. It was me and Andie.
The woodshed was just one of many strange places where
I’d had sex with Andie. We were restricted in our meeting
spots. Her busy apartment complex was mostly a no go.
Motels show up on credit cards, and my wife was neither
trusting nor stupid. (Andie had a MasterCard, but the
statement went to her mom. It hurts me to admit that.) So
the woodshed, deep behind my sister’s house, was very
safe when Go was at work. Likewise my father’s
abandoned home (
Maybe you feel guilty for bringing me
here / I must admit it felt a bit queer / But it’s not like we
had the choice of many a place / We made the decision:
We made this our space
), and a few times, my office at
school (
I picture myself as your student / With a teacher so
handsome and wise / My mind opens up [not to mention
my thighs!]
), and once, Andie’s car, pulled down a dirt road
in Hannibal after I’d taken her for a visit one day, a much
more satisfying reenactment of my banal field trip with Amy
(
You took me here so I could hear you chat / About your

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boyhood adventures: crummy jeans and visor hat
).
Each clue was hidden in a spot where I’d cheated on
Amy. She’d used the treasure hunt to take me on a tour of
all my infidelities. I had a shimmer of nausea as I pictured
Amy trailing oblivious me in her car – to my dad’s, to Go’s,
to goddamn Hannibal – watching me fuck this sweet young
girl, my wife’s lips twisting in disgust and triumph.
Because she knew she’d punish me good. Now at our
final stop, Amy was ready for me to know how clever she
was. Because the woodshed was packed with about every
gizmo and gadget that I swore to Boney and Gilpin I hadn’t
bought with the credit cards I swore I didn’t know anything
about. The insanely expensive golf clubs were here, the
watches and game consoles, the designer clothes, they
were all sitting here, in wait, on my sister’s property. Where
it looked like I’d stored them until my wife was dead and I
could have a little fun.
I knocked on Go’s front door, and when she answered,
smoking a cigarette, I told her I had to show her something,
and I turned around and led her without a word to the
woodshed.
‘Look,’ I said, and ushered her toward the open door.
‘Are those—Is that all the stuff … from the credit
cards?’ Go’s voice went high and wild. She put one hand to
her mouth and took a step back from me, and I realized that
just for a second, she thought I was making a confession to
her.
We’d never be able to undo it, that moment. For that
alone, I hated my wife.
‘Amy’s framing me, Go,’ I said. ‘Go, Amy bought this

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stuff. She’s 
framing
me.’
She snapped to. Her eyelids clicked once, twice, and
she gave a tiny shake of her head, as if to rid herself of the
image: Nick as wife killer.
‘Amy’s framing me for her murder. Right? Her last clue,
it led me right here, and no, I didn’t know about 
any
of this
stuff. It’s her grand statement. 
Presenting: Nick Goes to
Jail!
’ A huge, burpy air bubble formed at the back of my
throat – I was going to sob or laugh. I laughed. ‘I mean,
right? Holy fuck, right?’