Chapter 5 · My Dead Husband Isn't Dead

Three days later, they arrived.

It wasn't James himself, but two men in sharp black suits. They drove a black Mercedes that stuck out like a sore thumb in the narrow alleys of Maplewood. They asked around until they tracked down my diner.

I was in the middle of steaming pancakes and breakfast burritos, and the diner was thick with white vapor.

"Ms. Lane?" One of them adjusted his glasses, looking like he'd just smelled something foul.

"That's me," I replied.

He pulled a document out of his briefcase and set it on the greasy table. "This is a divorce settlement. We'll need your signature."

I looked at the paper but didn't move.

"And this is the compensation Mr. Carter has provided for you." He slid a check across the table.

I glanced down. It was 1.5 million dollars. The numbers checked out.

"Mr. Carter expects that after you sign, you will not disclose any information regarding him to the public. Please sign this non-disclosure agreement as well," the man said.

I wiped the flour off my hands, picked up the divorce papers, and read them from top to bottom.

"This says the divorce is by mutual consent due to an irretrievable breakdown of the marriage," I said.

"Correct," the man replied.

"But he's dead," I countered.

The man in the glasses blinked, caught off guard.

"I have the death certificate. I have the cremation records from the funeral home. As far as the Maplewood authorities are concerned, James is deceased." I looked at him. "How exactly is a dead man supposed to divorce me?"

The man in glasses stiffened, exchanging a look with his partner. "Ms. Lane, I think you understand the situation—"

"I don't understand anything." I dropped the documents back onto the table. "I'm just a woman running a diner.

"My husband has been dead for three months, and now two men show up with a divorce settlement signed by a ghost. What exactly am I supposed to understand?"

He went silent for a few seconds. "Ms. Lane, I wouldn't recommend making things more complicated than they need to be. Mr. Carter's intent is—"

"Mr. Carter is dead," I said for the third time. "If you're his creditors, show me the paperwork, and I'll take a look. Otherwise, I'm busy. I have breakfast burritos to prep."

With that, I turned back to the stove. The tortilla warmer was whistling, and though my hands were shaking, I kept my back straight. The comment flickered across my vision.

[LOL Sarah is playing hardball. Too bad it's a waste of time. James' people just pull some strings locally later and force the paperwork through anyway.]

My heart sank. Force the paperwork through?

[Yep, James got plenty of pull in Oceanview City. A marriage registration in a tiny town like this? He can settle that with a single phone call.]

[No matter how much Sarah kicks and screams, the divorce goes through. That's why she gets so worked up and goes to Oceanview City to cause a scene.]

So that was the "plot."

Whether I signed or not, he could make me a divorcee. Then I'd go looking for trouble and end up with a broken leg. This path seemed to lead to a dead end.

Unless I paved a new one.

The man in glasses hadn't left. He was still hovering by the door, waiting for me to have a change of heart. I picked up the check, stared at it for a second, and then ripped it to shreds.

"Tell your Mr. Carter," I said without looking up, "that according to the records in Maplewood County, James is deceased. I am his legal widow. If he's actually alive, tell him to come here and see me himself.

"If he's too much of a coward to show his face, then he shouldn't bother. You can't divorce a dead man."

I slapped the confetti-like remains of the check onto the table. "You want some burritos to go? Five bucks for three."

The man's face turned as black as thunder. They turned and climbed into the Mercedes. It took three tries to pull a U-turn in the narrow alley, leaving me coughing in a cloud of exhaust.

Tom poked his head out from the auto shop. "Hey, Sarah, who were those guys? Mobsters?"

"Insurance salesmen," I said.

"Oh," Tom muttered, ducking back inside.

I stood in the doorway, watching the car vanish at the end of the alley. My hands were still shaking, but I was smiling. A comment drifted by.

[Wait, what? Why did Sarah rip up the check? In the original plot, she took the money and then went to cause a scene because she wanted more. Is the storyline changing?]

You bet it is.

Now that you've told me how it ends, I'd be a total fool to keep following your script.

Chapter 5

Three days later, they arrived.

I was in the middle of steaming pancakes and breakfast burritos, and the diner was thick with white vapor.

"Ms. Lane?" One of them adjusted his glasses, looking like he'd just smelled something foul.

"That's me," I replied.

He pulled a document out of his briefcase and set it on the greasy table. "This is a divorce settlement. We'll need your signature."

I looked at the paper but didn't move.

"And this is the compensation Mr. Carter has provided for you." He slid a check across the table.

I glanced down. It was 1.5 million dollars. The numbers checked out.

"Mr. Carter expects that after you sign, you will not disclose any information regarding him to the public. Please sign this non-disclosure agreement as well," the man said.

I wiped the flour off my hands, picked up the divorce papers, and read them from top to bottom.

"This says the divorce is by mutual consent due to an irretrievable breakdown of the marriage," I said.

"Correct," the man replied.

"But he's dead," I countered.

The man in the glasses blinked, caught off guard.

The man in glasses stiffened, exchanging a look with his partner. "Ms. Lane, I think you understand the situation—"

"I don't understand anything." I dropped the documents back onto the table. "I'm just a woman running a diner.

"My husband has been dead for three months, and now two men show up with a divorce settlement signed by a ghost. What exactly am I supposed to understand?"

He went silent for a few seconds. "Ms. Lane, I wouldn't recommend making things more complicated than they need to be. Mr. Carter's intent is—"

"Mr. Carter is dead," I said for the third time. "If you're his creditors, show me the paperwork, and I'll take a look. Otherwise, I'm busy. I have breakfast burritos to prep."

With that, I turned back to the stove. The tortilla warmer was whistling, and though my hands were shaking, I kept my back straight. The comment flickered across my vision.

[LOL Sarah is playing hardball. Too bad it's a waste of time. James' people just pull some strings locally later and force the paperwork through anyway.]

My heart sank. Force the paperwork through?

[Yep, James got plenty of pull in Oceanview City. A marriage registration in a tiny town like this? He can settle that with a single phone call.]

[No matter how much Sarah kicks and screams, the divorce goes through. That's why she gets so worked up and goes to Oceanview City to cause a scene.]

So that was the "plot."

Whether I signed or not, he could make me a divorcee. Then I'd go looking for trouble and end up with a broken leg. This path seemed to lead to a dead end.

Unless I paved a new one.

The man in glasses hadn't left. He was still hovering by the door, waiting for me to have a change of heart. I picked up the check, stared at it for a second, and then ripped it to shreds.

"If he's too much of a coward to show his face, then he shouldn't bother. You can't divorce a dead man."

I slapped the confetti-like remains of the check onto the table. "You want some burritos to go? Five bucks for three."

The man's face turned as black as thunder. They turned and climbed into the Mercedes. It took three tries to pull a U-turn in the narrow alley, leaving me coughing in a cloud of exhaust.

Tom poked his head out from the auto shop. "Hey, Sarah, who were those guys? Mobsters?"

"Insurance salesmen," I said.

"Oh," Tom muttered, ducking back inside.

I stood in the doorway, watching the car vanish at the end of the alley. My hands were still shaking, but I was smiling. A comment drifted by.

[Wait, what? Why did Sarah rip up the check? In the original plot, she took the money and then went to cause a scene because she wanted more. Is the storyline changing?]

You bet it is.

Now that you've told me how it ends, I'd be a total fool to keep following your script.