Edgar leaned back on his heels and wiped a gloved hand across his forehead. Man, I hate digging in this garden, he thought. I don’t have to do this.
He kept digging, putting the tulip bulbs in the front flowerbed as he had done for the past three years, ever since his wife had disappeared. He never knew what happened to her, but there had never been a body.
Suddenly, Edgar’s trowel hit something hard. He scooped it out, and found one perfectly shaped finger joint. As he cleared the dirt away, he saw something glint in gold. Edna’s ring.