Part 2Don't Go Home Before Seven

"Is it serious?"

"No, just her usual thing. I just don't want her to be alone."

"Want me to come pick you up later?"

"No, go straight home."

She paused, her tone growing even softer.

"You've been fishing all day. Don't stay out in the cold. Go home, shower, and get some rest."

Warmth spread through my chest.

See? That was my wife.

That homeless guy had claimed she was cheating on me. What a joke.

"Oh, by the way," I said, "somebody's sending me these ridiculous texts. Says I stabbed her. Sounds almost believable."

Lauren went quiet. "What kind of texts?"

"Probably a scam. Who knows?"

"There are so many scams these days. Don't click any links, and definitely don't reply. Get home soon, okay? Call me when you're inside so I know you're safe."

It was such a normal thing for her to say that the last trace of unease disappeared.

"Sure. Leaving now."

I hung up and pocketed the phone.

Marty studied me. "You're really ignoring those messages?"

"What else am I supposed to do with scam texts?"

"And your wife?"

"Staying with her mom, Diane."

He was quiet for a moment. "Something about tonight feels wrong, Caleb."

I hugged my fish and laughed. "What's wrong? Thirty-five pounds! This is the greatest night of my life."

I said I was going home.

I didn't.

After three years of coming home empty-handed, I'd finally caught a monster. If I didn't show the entire town, what had I wasted all that bait money for?

My first stop was the tackle shop.

Gus, who owned the place, nearly had his eyes pop out of his head when he saw the fish.

"You caught that?"

"Obviously."

"Where'd you buy it?"

"Wow. That's just cruel."

Everyone in the shop crowded around for pictures.

I told them about what had happened at the river.

"There was this homeless guy on the bank. Said I'd been feeding all of them for three years and he owed me a favor. Soon as he disappeared, I hooked this thing."

Gus laughed. "What, the fish turned into a man to repay you?"

"You never know."

I patted its broad back.

It barely moved. Just watched me with those unnervingly dark eyes.

My phone buzzed again.

Claire again.

6:53 p.m.: "Caleb, I can't hold on much longer."

6:55 p.m.: "I've called the police."

6:58 p.m.: "Even if I die, I'll never let you get away with this."

After that, nothing.

I stared at the screen. For the first time, those messages made my skin crawl.

Then Gus raised his phone and called, "Caleb! Look over here!"

Without thinking, I scooped up the fish and flashed another huge grin.

Click.

In the picture, I looked like the happiest idiot alive.

"Shouldn't you get home?" Gus asked. "Won't your wife chew you out?"

I thought about Lauren's sweet voice and relaxed all over again.

"She adores me."

Everybody laughed.

Beside me, Marty muttered, "Quit joking around. What if those texts are real?"

I waved him off.

"If it's real, the police can call me. Those messages are obviously meant to scare me."

Weighed again at the tackle shop, the fish came in at thirty-five point four pounds.

Gus insisted the first scale must have been off.

Delighted, I took another picture and posted it online.

*Official second weigh-in: 35.4 pounds. Captain Skunk is officially retired.*

Lauren called again.

"Honey, you're still not home?"

"Almost."

"Don't stay out too late. I'm not there, so be careful getting home alone."

"I will."

"Call when you get in."

"Promise."