Free The Probable Future by Alice Hoffman

It could alter history, it could stop and start wars; it could even make an honest man out of Will Avery. By the time he reached the police station, Will was whistling, the sign of a man with a clear conscience. It was true he was a liar through and through, but even a liar could have a heart, despite what some people might think. Even a liar could convince himself he was about to do the right thing.
    IV.
    T HE MESSAGE CAME while Jenny was out picking up lunch, round the corner at the market on Charles Street, having telephoned in her order for a Caesar-salad-to-go and a strong, black tea. That Will Avery would list her as his next of kin seemed ridiculous, considering the fact that they’d barely spoken in the past six months, but apparently he had, for there was a message on her desk informing her that he was being held on suspicion of murder. Evidently, whoever had taken the message hadn’t kept it to herself, but had spread it far and wide, from Mortgages to Securities, so that all eyes were already on Jenny as she walked to her desk; people knew she would be shocked when she read the note, which had been taped to her weekly calendar.
    Jenny tossed her salad in the trash; she’d never get to eat lunch now. Her stomach had dropped into some bottomless pit and she had a tingly feeling in her fingers and toes, the way she always did before disaster struck. Why, on the day of her wedding, right on the steps of City Hall in Cambridge, her toes were so afflicted she could barely put one foot in front of the other. Anyone else would have known herself to be headed for unhappiness; that should have been apparent simply from the way she’d hesitated on the way to see the town clerk as though it were a tar pit that was waiting for her, rather than wedded bliss. Anyone else would have turned and run, whether or not she had to limp all the way. But not Jenny, she had to go forward no matter what; she couldn’t admit when she had made a mistake, a flaw her mother had always accused her of having. You will never back down , Elinor had said. Not for love or money. Not if you’re the wrongest person on earth .
    Jenny would be lucky to manage a few gulps of hot tea for lunchas she waited for the police switchboard to connect her with a detective. She was soon informed that her husband was being questioned in connection with a murder that had taken place the week following Stella’s birthday. Someone had climbed in through an open window or managed to get through the door in Brighton and slit a woman’s throat. There had been no witnesses and no apparent motive. Jenny recalled being frightened by the story on the six o’clock news, a teacher, well thought of and respected, a pretty woman of thirty-three, had met this horrendous fate. Jenny had made a mental note to have a locksmith come round to check if their deadbolt needed updating.
    But what had this all to do with them? Plenty, it seemed. Her husband, Jenny was now told, had come to the police before the murder with a great deal of information and was now being held for further questioning. The detectives had been particularly interested when they’d found the dead woman’s phone number in Will Avery’s possession.
    “Ex,” Jenny was quick to correct.
    “Excuse me?”
    “My ex-husband. We were legally separated in the summer, and our divorce should come through anytime. No contest.”
    “Were you afraid for your safety when you split up?”
    “No. Of course not.” For her sanity, perhaps; her self-respect, certainly.
    “How about after the breakup? Did you have a restraining order filed?”
    So that was where this line of questioning was headed.
    “Will Avery is constitutionally incapable of violence. I know him better than anyone, and I can tell you right now he practically faints at the sight of blood. Especially his own. If he cuts himself shaving, he has to breathe into a brown paper bag.”
    Which was exactly what he was doing when Jenny got down to the jail