Renegade's Pride

The recently mopped floor still bothered him, now more than before. Just as the destroyed Sheetrock in the hallway did. He feared the wall could have been busted before Anvil turned that rage on his wife.

Anvil wiped his face with his sleeve and took a few choked breaths. “She wouldn’t tell me.”

Flint let that sink in, hearing not just frustration in the farmer’s voice, but anger. “Did she say why she wouldn’t tell you who he was?”

He swallowed again and looked at his worn work boots. “She said she was afraid I would kill him.”

Great. So Jenna had already been aware of her husband’s temper.

Flint closed his notebook. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to give Jenna a little time to think. I’m betting she will call pretty soon or maybe even show up. If that happens, you call me right away, okay?”

Anvil nodded, looking relieved.

“She say how long she’d been...seeing this other man?”

He shook his head. “I got the feeling it had been going on for a while.”

“So you’d been suspicious?”

Anvil emitted a bitter laugh. “Hit me like a bolt of lightning out of the blue. Never saw it coming. Not in a million years.”

Flint had had the same reaction. Jenna Holloway just didn’t seem the type. Whatever type that was. He thought of his ex. Right, that type.

“How long have you been married?” he asked.

“Twenty-four years. She’s quite a bit younger than me.” Anvil seemed to grind his teeth. “I reckon the man is younger than me, as well.”

“I’m going to need the clothing you were wearing when Jenna left.”

Anvil looked up at him. “You still think I did something to her.”

“It’s protocol in a situation like this. I’m sure Jenna will call today and we can put all this behind us.”

The farmer rose slowly from his chair and disappeared into the other room. He came back with a pair of overalls and a T-shirt. “This is what I was wearing, but I washed them...since they were soiled.”

Flint met the man’s eyes. “How often have you washed your own clothes, Anvil?”

The man looked confused. “It isn’t how it looks.”

“It looks like you cleaned up after she left to hide something.”

“I did. When I slapped her, it made her nose bleed. There was blood on the kitchen floor.” He broke down. “I was so ashamed for losing my temper. I didn’t want anyone to see the place the way it was. I was going to fix the Sheetrock today, but the lumberyard was closed.”

“Anvil, I shouldn’t have to tell you how bad this looks.”

The man dropped his head. “I was just so ashamed.”

Flint waited a few moments before he said, “Anvil, if you did something worse that you regret, now is the time to tell me.”

The farmer raised his head. “I didn’t kill her. She drove away. I swear.”

“All right. Here’s what you do. Go about your usual daily work until you hear from her,” Flint said. “I know that’s a hard thing to ask. But these things often work themselves out. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye out for her. If she just went to town, checked into a motel...”

Again Anvil looked relieved to think that was all she’d done last night as they stepped out on the porch.

“Give me the make, model and color of the car she was driving,” Flint said and pulled out his notebook again. He hoped he was right and Jenna was in some cheap motel in town deciding what she was going to do next.

“By the way, how much money did she have on her when she left?”

Anvil looked surprised by the question. “I don’t know. We live on a pretty tight budget. I suppose she could have saved back some from the grocery money, but it wouldn’t be much.” Clearly, this had never crossed his mind.

“She doesn’t have a checkbook or credit cards she could use to get a motel?”

The farmer scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t believe in credit cards. The checkbook’s only for the farm business. I always gave Jenna whatever she needed. Like if she wanted a new dress or had to get her hair done for some special occasion.”

Flint nodded. He figured a lot of the farmers and ranchers operated much the same, especially the older ones. The women seldom left the place except to go into town for groceries or church.

“What is her cell phone number?”

Anvil looked confused. “She doesn’t have a cell phone. We have the landline here at the house. That’s all we’ve ever needed.”

Flint thought it probably wasn’t that unusual given that they seldom left the ranch. And cell phone service in these parts was scattered at best. It was the way everyone had lived not that many years ago, back when people didn’t need to be on call 24/7.

Still, no cell phone in this day and age? No credit cards? It meant no way of tracking her.

“What about a computer?” Flint asked, thinking that might be where Jenna had met this other man. But Anvil again shook his head.

“Never saw the need for one. Accountant takes care of the farm books. I want to buy somethin’ I can drive into town. Sure as the devil don’t need to be telling the world what I had for lunch on some blamed thing like Face Chat.”

Facebook. “Jenna spend any time at the library in town?”

“You’re thinking she met this man there?”

“They have computers and Wi-Fi service you can use at the library.”

Anvil frowned as if confused.

“Often people meet other people by chatting via computer. They get to talking, seem to have a lot in common, even fall in love without ever meeting each other in person.”

The farmer was staring at him. “That’s the craziest thing I ever heard.”

“Unfortunately, often the person on the other end of the chat isn’t telling the truth about themselves. Jenna could have been lured by one of these people. They call it catfishing.”

Anvil looked both horrified and completely out of touch with the world beyond this farm. Was Jenna more worldly?

“I’ll check at the library,” Flint said. “It’s a long shot, but you never know. She ever show any interest in learning to use a computer?”

“I thought her only interest was in old recipe books. She loved to bake. She was happiest in the kitchen. At least that’s what I thought.”