"Okay, for real, what murder?" Sam asks, coming back into the room with the entire pizza box. “It’s not actually me, is it?”
"You went for some pizza and came back with the whole thing?" I raise an eyebrow.
"No. There are two slices on a plate in the kitchen." He sits down on the couch as Dean moves over onto the chair. "What murder are you talking about?"
"You remember the case Dean was working on a few months ago. Before I went on vacation,” I say.
“Yeah,” Sam nods. “The one about the missing man with the fake wife.”
“Right,” I tell him. “Now, it's been another three months and still no one has seen or heard from him. Everybody's been trying to get into contact with him but can't. Then, all of a sudden, his mysterious wife, who nobody was able to track down and who nobody knows anything about, just shows up at the bank.”
“That’s… unusual.”
“Yeah. He started that bank account,” I remind him. “Before he disappeared, he put money in and then it came out and then it went back in. It was really confusing, and it was also how people figured out that he's married, even though nobody knew. But the thing is, nobody knows anything about his wife.”
“I’m still convinced she’s fake. He made her up for… some reason,” Sam muses. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen it. Some of these people get really creative with the Internet these days.”
“But that’s the thing. Usually, when someone makes up a fake persona, there’s at least an attempt at a paper trail. All I've been able to find is a marriage certificate that shows they did get married a week before he vanished,” Dean says. “But that's it.”
“No personal records that show where she's been in life before now?” Sam asks.
“I got a redacted birth certificate. That’s it,” Dean says. “You’ve got to be able to prove some sort of tangible stake and a reason for needing the record in order to get a full version. Usually, that means family. So, all I've had to go on is knowing they're married. I have her name, birthday, basic identifying information.”
“Right, but no one had ever seen her,” I say. “Or talked to her, or employed her, or went to school with her, or knew where she grew up, or anything. Then, all of a sudden, months after people are trying to track this man down, she just walks into the bank? And all she did was check the balance of the account and then go spend five minutes with a security deposit box.”
“Less than three minutes, actually,” Dean says.
I gesture toward him, making my point. “Exactly. That's even stranger. Nobody cornered this woman and asked where her husband is. And he's still missing.”
"Well, not really," Sam says.
"What do you mean, not really?" I ask.
"Just because some people in his life don't know where he is doesn't mean he's missing. You know that. He's an adult. He can come and go as he pleases, and if he wants to fall off the face of the planet, that's his right. As long as he hasn't committed a crime, isn't wanted for questioning or for a warrant, and doesn't have any outstanding bills or other obligations, no one really has the absolute right to know where he is. And since his wife is the next of kin legally, if she doesn't consider him missing, then he's technically not."
"Except that the mother of his child can't find him. And neither can his friends. Or his parents. Or anyone else he has carried on relationships with throughout his entire life," I reply. "I understand what you're saying from a legal perspective. Yes, he's an adult. He can run away if he wants to. But you can't possibly think this is just a normal thing. That this seemingly perfectly normal man just up and decided to abandon his entire life, marry a woman no one has ever heard of, and sink into absolute obscurity."
“Just because it isn't something that happens all the time doesn't mean it isn't normal,” Sam shrugs.
I stare at him incredulously for a few seconds. “Actually, that's exactly what it means. As in, by definition.”
“What I mean is maybe we don't have the entire story. Dean's working for people who have a vested interest in finding him, right?” Sam asks.
Dean nods and swallows another swig of beer. “The mother of his child is planning to take him to court. There's no child support order in place, but she wants to have the courts force him to pay for college expenses when the boy is old enough to go.”
“See,” Sam says. “She has a very specific reason for wanting him found.”
“So, you're saying it's perfectly logical for him to just stop contacting people, not answer phone calls or mail, and not be seen for months on end?” I ask.
“No. What I'm saying is there may be other reasons at play for him to want to keep a low profile. It's odd, don't get me wrong. But it doesn't necessarily mean there's something awful going on. He could have just left and decided to start a new life,” Sam says. “Like I said. People get up to weird shit on the Internet. Maybe he’s off bitcoin farming in Costa Rica or something.”
“I guess,” I say. “It just doesn't sit right with me. Why would his wife need to go into the bank to check the balance of the account? She could just do that online. And going to the security deposit box for less than three minutes? What could she possibly be doing?”
“Putting something in it,” Sam offers. “It doesn't take long to open one of those boxes, put something inside, and leave.”
“It still seems as if someone should do a wellness check on him or something," I say.
“Where would they even go to check? He’s missing,” Sam points out.
“Fair.”
"To make sure he hasn't been murdered?" Dean asks. "Why
