Free Deadly Divorces by Tammy Cohen

eyes and gaunt cheeks strode into the church and took a seat in the front pew. It was Barton Corbin who, just hours before, had been named as a suspect in Jennifer’s death.
    What was going through Bart’s mind as he sat in that crowded church? Was he asking forgiveness for what he’d done? Was he looking around and finally realising just how many people had loved his wife and how many lives would be devastated by her loss? Or was he too busy worrying about his own future? About whether the police would be able to find any evidence linking him to Jennifer’s death, whether he was about to get away with it… again?
    Seeing Barton sitting there inscrutably – and, worst of all free – in the front row compounded Jennifer’s family’s grief still further. When Heather got up in front of the mourners to talk about her sister, she could hardly control her emotions. ‘Right now I am so angry,’ she said with her voice raw with grief. ‘But one thing I know is that love is a million times stronger than anger.’
    After the service a well-dressed couple made their way into the room where the Barber family were receiving guests. They were strangers to the rest of the mourners from the tightly knit community and they looked slightlynervous as they introduced themselves to Max and Narda. It was Barbara and Carlton Hearn.
    If you’ve never lost someone you’ll never know what grief is, and if you’ve never lost a child, you’ll never understand that most savage strain of grief. The Hearns and the Barbers had this tragic bond in common and more. Each had lost a daughter in the full prime of her life and each believed the same man to be responsible: Barton Corbin.
    ‘There hasn’t been a day in the last 14 years where Carlton hasn’t talked about Dolly,’ Barbara Hearn told Max Barber, taking his hand in hers. Funny that so sad a statement could bring comfort but facing a lifetime without his Jenny and knowing that she would never be far from his thoughts, Max Barber found strength in the knowledge that someone else knew exactly what he was going through.
    Exiting the church at the end of this most emotional of afternoons, the mourners were stunned to find the wind and rain of earlier had given way to a perfect rainbow that arched magnificently across the sky. It was, they all agreed, typical of Jenn not to want to leave without sending a message to let them know she was OK. That was just the type of person she was, thoughtful to the last.
    After the service the Barbers took Jennifer’s ashes back to Heather’s house in the candle-shaped urn they’d carefully picked out. The urn was placed on the dining room table surrounded by roses, gerbera daisies and tulips,Jenn’s favourite flower. Her family stood around the table, joined hands and prayed for the woman they’d loved so much. Reaching out a small hand, young Dalton touched the urn that held the ashes of his former life and told his mother how much he missed her. Nothing would ever be the same again.
    And yet still the word ‘suicide’ hung heavy in the air over Gwinnett County. Police may have decided to treat this as a homicide investigation, but Barton Corbin’s supporters were having none of it. It was very sad, they said, but here was a woman teetering on the brink of divorce, distraught at the thought of all she had to lose. People had killed themselves for less. Barton himself stayed out of the way, indirectly proclaiming his innocence, while refusing to come in voluntarily for questioning.
    Without further evidence it seemed like a stalemate – except for one thing. Vibrant, positive-thinking women like Dolly and Jenn don’t tend to commit suicide – and certainly not by shooting themselves in the head and not without leaving some sort of note. You didn’t have to be Einstein to work out that the odds against a man being involved with two women who kill themselves in exactly that manner were pretty high.
    The police decided to keep a close watch