I peek around the closet door toward the front entrance. The reflection of the lights on the glass makes it nearly impossible to make out who is waving at me. I close the closet door and slowly walk toward the entrance. Who would know I was here? A better question is who would know I was here that didn’t have a key to get in?
As I pass by the break room and walk under the crow’s nest, the glare dissipates a little and I see Kendra’s smiling face peering through the window and waving at me. Whew!
I punch in the four-digit code so that I can open the door. A breeze blows in along with Kendra. “What are you doing here?”
“Ha! I could ask you the same thing.” Kendra fluffs up her hair as she walks past me. “Shouldn’t you have left hours ago?”
“I was finishing up that edit by that boring guy. And you came back why?” I follow her back to our cubicles hoping I didn’t leave anything out that I shouldn’t have. I didn’t have a chance to double check.
“Oh yeah,” she giggles as she whirls around to smile at me and then whirls back so that she can keep walking. “I came back to pick up the itinerary for our little trip but when I got here, I remembered that I loaned my key to Stan from accounting because he needed to get in super early this morning and he lost his key. You know Viv, losers weepers. And he doesn’t want to pay for a new key.” She leans toward me and in a whispered tone says, “he and the missus are getting the big d.”
She just flung so much information at me. “The big d?”
“D-vorce. Divorce. She served him papers a couple of days ago. She wants everything and says that since she takes care of the kids all the time, the judge will give her full custody and she needs the house and the car.”
“What? No way. Just because she takes care of the kids most of the time doesn’t mean that she will get full custody. Now-a-days, judges like for both parents to be involved. Unless he’s a deadbeat. I mean, I don’t know Stan, other than swinging by his office to make adjustments to my withholdings. I never even knew that was his name.”
Kendra opens one drawer after another looking for the printout of our agenda. She opens the upper middle drawer and right behind a pile of random pens is the papers. “Aha! I knew I printed them out.” She giggles as she stuffs them into her bag. “I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached. Yeah, I didn’t really know Stan until a couple of months ago. He’s a nice guy. Not my type. Those older grey-haired balding men are a little outside my range of what I find attractive. Not to be offensive.”
“Why would that be offensive?”
“Ya know, now that you’re in the playing field, maybe you like that sort of thing.” She gives me her award-winning shit-eating grin as I roll my eyes and whack her on the shoulder.
“I’m going to stay off the playing field for a while. It’s going to just be me and Squeaker. She’s all I need in my life. Men are just a lot of work.”
“But sometimes they can do all the work,” she giggles and winks at me. “If ya know what I mean.”
“Yeah yeah, I know what you mean. I have store bought things that do the work and don’t come with any added baggage or attitude problems.”
“Hmmm, when mine has an attitude problem, that’s when I need to put new batteries in it.” We both laugh and start making our way back to the door. “Are you almost done for tonight?”
“Yeah, I just have to pick up my stuff. Hey, do you have an extra coffee mug?”
“Uh,” Kendra has her hand on the door handle as she thinks. “I might? Why what happened to yours?”
“I was working at my desk and bumped it. It landed on the floor in a million pieces. And you know Viv. She’s going to give me hell for breaking it.”
“Oh yeah, she will. She doesn’t care if you don’t use it as long as you stick on a shelf like a trophy, but if you break it, that’s like breaking her right arm.” Kendra nods her head at the keypad. “Can you hit the code?”
“Oh, sure.” I bend over and finger the four-digits into the little black box on the wall.
Kendra pulls on the door handle and the wind rushes in, feeling cooler than it did a few minutes ago. “You better call it a night! You need your beauty sleep. You are clearly in a deficit.” Kendra walks down the sidewalk, her laughter echoing behind her.
“Ha, ha. You’re so funny! Go home!”
She waves as I close the door behind her. The red light turns on showing that the door is locked, and I walk back toward my desk. That was a close one. It could’ve been just about anyone. Including the cops wondering what I’m doing here this late. I need to get out of here. Kendra’s right even if it’s for a different reason.
On my way back to my desk, I look around the room for anything that’s out of place or not normal for here. Everything looks good. It honestly looks better than it did before I killed Mike. Those new cleaning people do a great job. The fact that they might have the bucket and mop still disturbs me, but I shrug it off as I pick up my bag and keys. I’ll have to bring a different tumbler or something with me tomorrow and if I can get an extra company mug off someone, I’ll make sure to put it on a shelf.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
I flick off the lights, punch in the code and open the door. The temperature is getting colder, especially for the beginning of June. A shiver runs through my spine, and I wrap my arms around my body as much as I can, hurrying to my car. I push the unlock button on my key fob and go to get into the driver’s seat but can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me.
I’ve watched too many scary movies to just stand her and call out “hello”. That’s how people get killed. It’s like announcing that I’m dumb and just standing here waiting for someone to rush me and thrust a knife through my chest. Nope. Not today.
I hurry up and climb in my car, slam the door, and hit the auto lock button. When I start the car, my headlights automatically come on, illuminating the front of the building and some of the side of the building. As I scan the lit area, a black figure darts away from a bush into the shadow of the building.
There WAS someone watching me!
Part of me wants to get out and chase the person down. Who is it? But there’s also the part of me that watches too many movies and decides to stay safely in my car. I watch a little longer but whoever that was is either hiding until I’m gone, or they’ve left. Why would they be watching me? Do they know what I did?
On the way home, I finally feel hungry. And then it hits me, I didn’t eat anything today. All I’ve had was coffee. Just as the thought occurs to me, my stomach growls loudly as if to say, “tell me about it.”
I see the golden arches up ahead and decide I might as well go through the drive-thru. I could eat something at home. It’s not that much farther, but a quarter pounder sounds really good. I go through the line, put in my order, and pay at the next window. I opted for a Sprite instead of my normal Diet Coke. I don’t think I need any more caffeine for today. When the paper bag of deliciously fried food comes through my window, I can barely wait to park before I dig into the fries. They’re fresh! There’s nothing quite like fresh McDonald’s fries. I don’t care what anyone says.
After I pop the last bite of quarter pounder in my mouth, my stomach is so full it hurts. I drive the rest of the way home listening to hits of the 90’s on a cd I made a few years ago. When I pull in the driveway, Squeaker is up on the back of the couch, patiently waiting for me like normal. Just seeing her brings my blood pressure back down to normal.
Since someone was watching me at the office, I decide that it’s not too far-fetched that someone might be watching me here too. I strain my eyes, looking into the darkness past the reach of my headlights. I really wish I would’ve listened to the neighbor and put up motion-sensored spotlights. Well, it’s not too late. I can call a handyman tomorrow.
I grab my bag and the garbage from my impromptu dinner and get out of the car. The McDonald’s bag makes a lot of noise as I crumple it up. A chill runs down my spine at the thought of not being able to hear anyone sneak up on me. It makes me nearly run to the door and cram my key into the lock as quick as I can.
When I get inside, Squeaker runs to me, jumping up on my legs. I know I shouldn’t let her do it, but it actually makes me happy. Plus, I don’t have to bend over so far to pet her. I set by bag down on the couch and see the garbage bag sitting on the kitchen table.
Shit.
I forgot about that.
Well, at least I ate dinner. I check my watch. It’s 8:37pm. Is that too late to get a fire going in the burn barrel? I don’t think so. Hopefully my neighbors agree.
I pass by the bathroom door and remember the clothes that are on the floor in there too. “C’mon Squeaks, we got some things to clean up.” She happily follows me into the bedroom, wagging her tail. I change into some clothes that I don’t mind getting dirty, or burning because I get blood on them, and then head back to the bathroom. When I open the door, the clothes are exactly as I left them. I grab them, holding them away from my body in an attempt to keep them from getting anything on my clothes, and then head to the kitchen. The garbage bag on the table feels like a daunting pile that I have to burn but I’m sure it’ll burn fast. The bleach was already disintegrating the blouse.
I shove the bathroom clothes into the bag and unlock the backdoor. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, I can see a little better. The fire from the burn barrel is going to glow brightly, but if anyone asks, I’ll just say that I had a critter infestation that got into some of my clothes.
Squeaker follows me out into the backyard and her nose leads her off to the flower garden. The one bad thing about a dog door is she can bring dead things into the house. Shrews are her favorite “present”, but I’ve also had her bring in cardinals. Those she always brings in pairs. Always the male and the female. At least they’re not left without their mate. Cardinals are one of the few that mate for life.
The burn barrel is empty, thank goodness. There’s some charred rubbage at the bottom of the barrel but it won’t hinder the new stuff from burning. I dump the contents of the garbage bag into the barrel and then decide that I need to burn the garbage bag too. That’s not going to be pleasant to be around.
I swipe the match against the box and flick it inside. My blouse melts almost immediately and then other pieces of my clothing catch on fire. The paper towels and the rags catch on fire easily. A black smoke rises out of the barrel as the garbage bag melts. I walk away and sit on the cement steps by the backdoor. Squeaker makes her way over to me and leans against my leg.
“Hey, Squeaks.” I fluff up the fur on her shoulder and she presses against my leg even more. “I think we might be in the clear. This is the last of it. Well, kind of.” I forgot that Mike is still in the file room and he’s not going to last there long. I mean, I could leave him there and allow his decomposing sludge to get soaked up into the files. Nobody uses them anyway. I’m sure that would smell horrifically though. What does the morgue do? They have a ton of bodies in there. They can’t possibly rely on Vicks under their nose for all of it.
Once the fire starts to die down, I feel like I can go inside. I have some research to do. I open the door and Squeaker shoots inside. In some ways, she is still a carefree puppy. In other ways, she is totally in tune with me.
I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge and make my way to the couch. I’ll just look a couple of things up before heading to bed. It’s 9:30pm but I’m past the point of being able to fall asleep right now. Maybe after a little down time, my mind will relax.
Ha! Who am I kidding?
I pull the blinds in front of the picture window in the living room. Now that it’s dark outside, any light inside will allow people to watch me, and I still feel freaked out from my watcher I had at work. I reach inside my bag and pull out my phone. There’s a voicemail. I never felt my phone vibrate, and I keep it on silent for work.
I pull up the voicemail and turn it on speaker phone as I pull Squeaker into me to snuggle.
“Hi Effi. This is Viv. I need you to give me a call. We need to talk.” And then there’s silence for a couple of seconds before she ends the message with, “I know.”