Things amiss

I didn’t really think of it as much of anything at all. Honestly what is significant about forgetting where the car is parked? Lucky for me all I needed to do was push that little alarm thingy and oh there it is, right next to the woman who looks like I’ve scared the crap out of here. I smile and wave, hopefully in what appears to be an apologetic manner, while trying not to laugh out loud.
The thing was, I was in a hurry to leave, so it didn’t really register at the time. It was later that I remembered I had had to readjust the seat when I got back into the car. I mentioned it to Jeffrey but he was in his paper and really barely heard me at all. He mumbled something about, perhaps hitting the button on my way out of or into the car and it seemed somewhat plausible but still.
Three days later, I put down my reading glasses next to my book when I went to go answer the phone. Upon my return they were not there and though I searched high and low I couldn’t find them anywhere. Just getting a little forgetful was Jeffrey’s response when I told him but I was certain, dead certain, that I had put them next to my cup on the end table.
“You didn’t move them did you?”
He looked at me as if to say what could you be thinking, but merely asked, “Me?”
“I’m sorry, never mind.”
Nothing else happened for several days and I had begun to think that perhaps he was right when the weather turned cold. I went to get my beige suede jacket out of the hall closet and it wasn’t there. Now I know it was there. It’s been hanging there all through the summer and early fall. I know because I love the feel of it and brush against it every time I get the vacuum out of the closet but I could not find it.
That’s when I started the list, the list of things amiss. It is possible that I simply forgot where I put the car and did hit the button for the seat, its even possible that I simply mislaid my glasses but the jacket, that I knew for sure had been in the closet and wasn’t now.
“Everything ok dear?” He asked that night before we went to bed. I simply murmured something in his direction but he had seen me biting my nails so he knew I was worried about something.
A week later the bill came from the credit card company. There were three charges that didn’t look familiar. I called the company and it turned out one was from a restaurant and the other two were from retail establishments all on the west end of town, and it seems all on the day that I was fairly certain was the day I had gone to the mall. When I questioned them further and asked to speak with their fraud department they indicated that they had signed slips from all three places and would be happy to forward copies to me.
I called Jeffrey at work then. I was certain that he would agree with me now, that something seriously was up but he seemed unfazed by it all.
The next morning, after he had gone to work, the doorbell rang. I went to answer and there were two detectives there who asked if they could speak with me. I assumed it was about the credit card charges and when I asked them if that in fact was why they were there they looked somewhat quizzically at each other.
“No ma’am,” the woman detective said to me. “We would like to speak with you regarding the murder of Henry Drummond.
“I’m sorry who?’ I asked.
“Henry Drummond, ma’am. He’s a banker on the west end. We found some of your belongings in his apartment. That’s why we’re here.”