When Never Comes

by Barbara Davis

A moment later, she was pulling back the front door, staring at two uniformed police officers. “What is it? Why are you here?” “I’m afraid it’s your husband, ma’am. There’s been an accident. His car skidded off a bridge and into Echo Bay.” Christine’s chest seemed to seize. “Where is he? Is he all right? What hospital have they taken him to?” “Your husband isn’t in the hospital, Mrs. Ludlow. He . . . didn’t survive the accident. I’m afraid we’re going to need a next of kin to come down and identify his body.” The silence spooled out as the words penetrated. Stephen’s body. Echo Bay. “We’d be happy to drive you,” the sergeant continued, his voice full of polite sympathy. It wasn’t his first time knocking on a door in the middle of the night, Christine realized dully. How many wives, mothers, lovers, and friends had gotten the visit she was getting now? It took a moment for the sergeant’s offer to penetrate. “No,” she replied, feeling strangely detached, as if watching the scene from a long way off. The last thing she wanted at that moment was a ride in the back of a police car. “Thank you. I can drive myself.” The sergeant nodded. “We’ll wait while you get dressed then, and you can follow us back to the station.” Christine nodded, trying to wrap her head around what had happened—and the reality of what came next. Bestselling crime novelist Stephen Ludlow was dead, and she needed to go identify his body. But first, she needed to get dressed.