I dug a shallow grave and hopped in with a ‘bullet’ in my head to convince my wife I was dead – my life depended on it

IT was the afternoon and two FBI agents stood over a shallow grave in a remote desert. On one of the hottest days of the summer in rural Texas, a crime scene investigator painstakingly photographs a man’s body. He was lying awkwardly, stripped to his boxer shorts, his hands bound behind his back. The ‘victim’ was...