Thanks, as always, to Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers.
Jigsaw (98 words)
We presumed she’d run. Taken that old clunker and made for other pastures, any were greener than these populated by a drunk husband and five bratty kids.
Dad sobered up, had to. He hired a private detective; nothing panned out. She disappeared from not only our lives but the earth. Until they pulled that clunker out of the lake.
I was a new deputy, watching my mother’s car hoisted up, murky water gushing from its body. We didn’t find remains, just a full suitcase of clothes.
The sheriff considered the case closed. I didn’t.
Dad seemed strangely relieved.