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

lake house
was a 
mansion
, and 
bringing
groceries
was 
becoming my lover
. I could feel the need
coming off him like heat. He was squirming a little under his
suit, wanting to make it happen. Desi was a collector: He
had four cars, three houses, suites of suits and shoes. He
would like knowing I was stowed away under glass. The
ultimate white-knight fantasy: He steals the abused
princess from her squalid circumstances and places her
under his gilded protection in a castle that no one can
breach but him.
‘I can’t do that. What if the police find out somehow
and they come to search?’
‘Amy, the police think you’re dead.’
‘No, I should be on my own for now. Can I just have a
little cash from you?’
‘What if I say no?’
‘Then I’ll know your offer to help me isn’t genuine. That
you’re like Nick and you just want control over me, however
you can get it.’
Desi was silent, swallowing his drink with a tight jaw.
‘That’s a rather monstrous thing to say.’
‘It’s a rather monstrous way to act.’
‘I’m not acting that way,’ he said. ‘I’m worried about
you. Try the lake house. If you feel cramped by me, if you
feel uncomfortable, you leave. The worst that can happen is
you get a few days’ rest and relaxation.’
The mustached guy is suddenly at our table, a
flickering smile on his face. ‘Ma’am, I don’t suppose you’re
any relation to the Enloe family, are you?’ he asks.
‘No,’ I say, and turn away.

---

‘Sorry, you just look like some—’
‘We’re from Canada, now excuse us,’ Desi snaps, and
the guy rolls his eyes, mutters a 
jeez
, and strolls back to the
bar. But he keeps glancing at me.
‘We should leave,’ Desi says. ‘Come to the lake
house. I’ll take you there now.’ He stands.
Desi’s lake house would have a grand kitchen, it would
have rooms I could traipse around in – I could ‘hills are
alive’ twirl in them, the rooms would be so massive. The
house would have Wi-Fi and cable – for all my command-
center needs – and a gaping bathtub and plush robes and
a bed that didn’t threaten to collapse.
It would have Desi too, but Desi could be managed.
At the bar, the guy is still staring at me, less
benevolently.
I lean over and kiss Desi gently on the lips. It has to
seem like my decision. ‘You’re such a wonderful man. I’m
sorry to put you in this situation.’
‘I want to be in this situation, Amy.’
We are on our way out, walking past a particularly
depressing bar, TVs buzzing in all corners, when I see the
Slut.
The Slut is holding a press conference.
Andie looks tiny and harmless. She looks like a
babysitter, and not a sexy porn babysitter but the girl from
down the road, the one who actually plays with the kids. I
know this is not the real Andie, because I have followed her
in real life. In real life she wears snug tops that show off her
breasts, and clingy jeans, and her hair long and wavy. In
real life she looks fuckable.

---

Now she is wearing a ruffled shirtdress with her hair
tucked behind her ears, and she looks like she’s been
crying, you can tell by the small pink pads beneath her
eyes. She looks exhausted and nervous but very pretty.
Prettier than I’d thought before. I never saw her this close
up. She has freckles.
‘Ohhhh, shit,’ says one woman to her friend, a cheap-
cabernet redhead.
‘Oh noooo, I was actually starting to feel bad for the
guy,’ says the friend.
‘I have crap in my fridge older than that girl. What an
asshole.’
Andie stands behind the mike and looks down with
dark eyelashes at a statement that leaf-shakes in her hand.
Her upper lip is damp; it shines under the camera lights.
She swipes an index finger to blot the sweat. ‘Um. My
statement is this: I did engage in an affair with Nick Dunne
from April 2011 until July of this year, when his wife, Amy
Dunne, went missing. Nick was my professor at North
Carthage Junior College, and we became friendly, and then
the relationship became more.’
Andie stops to clear her throat. A dark-haired woman
behind her, not much older than I am, hands her a glass of
water, which she slurps quickly, the glass shaking.
‘I am deeply ashamed of having been involved with a
married man. It goes against all my values. I truly believed I
was in love’ – she begins crying; her voice shivers – ‘with
Nick Dunne and that he was in love with me. He told me
that his relationship with his wife was over and that they
would be divorcing soon. I did not know that Amy Dunne
was pregnant. I am cooperating with the police in their

---

investigation in the disappearance of Amy Dunne, and I will
do everything in my power to help.’
Her voice is tiny, childish. She looks up at the wall of
cameras in front of her and seems shocked, looks back
down. Two apples turn red on her round cheeks.
‘I … I.’ She begins sobbing, and her mother – that
woman has to be her mother, they have the same oversize
anime eyes – puts an arm on her shoulder. Andie continues
reading. ‘I am so sorry and ashamed for what I have done.
And I want to apologize to Amy’s family for any role I played
in their pain. I am cooperating with the police in their investi
—Oh, I said that already.’
She smiles a weak, embarrassed smile, and the press
corps chuckle encouragingly.
‘Poor little thing,’ says the redhead.
She is a little slut, she is not to be pitied
. I cannot
believe anyone would feel sorry for Andie. I literally refuse to
believe it.
‘I am a twenty-three-year-old student,’ she continues. ‘I
ask only for some privacy to heal during this very painful
time.’
‘Good luck with that,’ I mutter as Andie backs away
and a police officer declines to take any questions and they
walk off camera. I catch myself leaning to the left as if I
could follow them.
‘Poor little lamb,’ says the older woman. ‘She seemed
terrified.’
‘I guess he did do it after all.’
‘Over a 
year
he was with her.’
‘Slimebag.’
Desi gives me a nudge and widens his eyes in a

---

question: Did I know about the affair? Was I okay? My face
is a mask of fury – 
poor little lamb, my ass
– but I can
pretend it is because of this betrayal. I nod, smile weakly. I
am okay. We are about to leave when I see my parents,
holding hands as always, stepping up to the mike in
tandem. My mother looks like she’s just gotten her hair cut. I
wonder if I should be annoyed that she paused in the
middle of my disappearance for personal grooming. When
someone dies and the relatives carry on, you always hear
them say 
so-and-so would have wanted it that way
. I don’t
want it that way.
My mother speaks. ‘Our statement is brief, and we will
take no questions afterward. First, thank you for the
tremendous outpouring for our family. It seems the world
loves Amy as much as we do. Amy: We miss your warm
voice and your good humor, and your quick wit and your
good heart. You are indeed amazing. We will return you to
our family. I know we will. Second, we did not know that our
son-in-law, Nick Dunne, was having an affair until this
morning. He has been, since the beginning of this
nightmare, less involved, less interested, less concerned
than he should be. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, we
attributed this behavior to shock. With our new knowledge,
we no longer feel this way. We have withdrawn our support
from Nick accordingly. As we move forward with the
investigation, we can only hope that Amy comes back to us.
Her story must continue. The world is ready for a new
chapter.’
Amen
, says someone.

---