Rancor: Sinister Attachments, Book 1 Page 4

  EIGHT

  Shortly after ten o’clock, a cold gust of wind blew in through the apartment windows, causing Maggie to shiver. She stopped typing and got up from the dinette table where she had been working the last few hours and went to close the windows. When she had finished pulling down the final window sash, there was a knock on the door. That must be Debbie, she thought.

  Before unlocking the door, she looked through the peephole. Just as expected, Debbie and Susie were standing on the other side.

  She opened the door and welcomed them inside. Debbie was wearing a white nurse dress; she even had a nurse cap pinned to her pulled-up hair. Maggie did not think nurses even wore those antiquated nursing clothes anymore. She was used to seeing nurses in colorful scrubs.

  “Thank you for watching Susie,” Debbie said, smiling. “If I don’t have to work overtime, I’ll be back around eight in the morning.”

  “Sure, not a problem,” Maggie said, looking at Susie, who was already dressed in a long white nightgown. She held a brown teddy bear in her hand. “Hi Susie, how are you? Do you like chocolate chip cookies?”

  Susie kept looking at the floor and shrugged.

  “She’s a little shy,” Debbie said in her usual bubbly manner. “She’ll warm up to you though.”

  “That’s fine,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, I have to go,” Debbie said, looking at her watch. “She’s already eaten and it’s her bedtime, should be an easy night for you.”

  “I’m sure it will be.”

  Debbie gave Susie a hug and walked out the door. “See ya.”

  “Have a good night at work,” Maggie called after her. Then she locked the door and knelt down next Susie. She looked at the matted fur on the stuffed animal she clutched in her hand. “I like your teddy bear, does he have a name?”

  Susie shrugged as she looked at her bear and then with big sad eyes she looked up at Maggie.

  “I’ll show you around,” Maggie said, reaching for Susie’s hand. But Susie held tight to the teddy with two hands. It did not surprise Maggie that Susie was not ready to warm up to her, she had only met Maggie one time, and that was for a few minutes in the hallway. “That’s all right, this place isn’t a palace.”

  When she had finished pointing out the bathroom, her bedroom, and the kitchen, she said, “Your mom said it was your bedtime. Are you ready to be tucked in or do you want to stay up a little while longer?”

  Susie yawned.

  “I think that means bedtime,” Maggie said, walking to Susie’s room.

  Susie watched her and then followed her into the small room. She climbed into bed and turned to face the window.

  Maggie tucked her in. “Good night. I’ll be right next door if you need anything.”

  She turned off Susie’s light and kept the bedroom door halfway open. Then she walked into the kitchen and sat in front of her computer to continue working on her novel. So far, this babysitting job is not so bad, she thought. There were no kids running around, screaming, and getting into things. Susie was the complete opposite.

  Maggie forced herself to type but after half an hour of forcing the words out, she decided to get ready for bed. She wanted to get up early and be awake and dressed when Debbie arrived to pick up Susie.

  She put on her pajamas and peeked into Susie’s room; she was sound asleep. Then she walked into her room, leaving the door partway open, and got into bed. She pulled the sheet up around her shoulders and closed her eyes. The building did indeed do a lot of groaning and creaking, just as Mr. Zimmerman had told her. Sometimes it sounded like there was activity in the hallway, at other times it seemed like someone was riding the elevator up to the third floor and then down to the basement. Who would be doing that at this time of night? Fortunately, those sounds were outside Maggie’s apartment where they were not a threat.

  She rolled over and finally went to sleep. Time passed until something startled her awake. She looked at the clock; it was around three in the morning. She lay still and listened. The elevator was moving. Maybe it was Bruce coming home from the bar, she thought. Despite the fact, she had no idea if Bruce even drank.

  Maggie kept listening. It sounded as if several people had come off the elevator and were whispering in the hallway. Then fear rushed through her, it sounded as though someone had turned her doorknob. She quietly rolled over, faced her door, and screamed. Susie was standing in her bedroom doorway; standing there and staring at her. She had not expected that.

  “Susie, come here,” Maggie said, wanting Susie with her, just in case someone was trying to break-in.

  Susie stood there, oblivious to what Maggie was saying. Maggie jumped out of bed and put her arms around Susie and listened. There were no further sounds, either of her doorknob or out in the hallway. She was definitely getting a deadbolt even if she had to buy and install it herself.

  “You’re cold,” Maggie said, feeling an icy chill radiate from Susie. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Susie did not answer; she just stared ahead as if she was sleepwalking.

  “Let’s get you back to bed,” Maggie said, directing Susie back to her room. She tucked her in, even teddy. She brushed Susie’s stringy hair off her forehead and walked into the living room.

  Maggie looked through the door’s peephole and saw nothing. Deciding to follow Jess’s suggestion, she pushed the couch in front of the door. After struggling with the heavy piece of furniture, she finally had the Florence Knoll blocking the entry.

  NINE

  Maggie had the couch moved away from the door where it had acted as a barricade during the early morning hours. Now it sat unusually close to the door, but Maggie did not care. She knew that if she did not get a better lock on the door she would have to use it again tonight. If she had a skeleton key, that would most likely open the other doors on the floor, who else was in possession of one. She would ask Mr. Zimmerman about the key if she could ever get a hold of him to ask the question.

  Susie sat across from Maggie at the small kitchen table, not touching her cereal or milk. Instead, she held her dirty looking teddy bear, smoothing its ratty synthetic fur.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Maggie asked, looking up from her manuscript.

  Susie shrugged, not making eye contact with her.

  Maggie looked at the bowl of soon to be soggy corn flakes. “Do you want sugar on your cereal? That’s how I eat mine.”

  Before Susie answered, there was a knock on the door.

  “That must be your mom,” Maggie said as she stood up to answer the door. She looked through the peephole and saw Debbie with her back toward the door. Even though she could not see her face, she could tell it was Debbie by the white cap, so she opened the door.

  Debbie stood at the door with a big smile. Her face looked drawn and pale, bust she was still full of spunk. “There’s my little pumpkin.”

  Maggie turned around and saw Susie standing right behind her, twisting and pulling the teddy bear’s head as if she were wringing its neck. Maggie was speechless for a moment because Susie was petting the poor little stuffed animal a few moments ago, and now she seemed to want teddy dead. The behavior caught her off guard. Then she said, “I don’t think Susie felt well last night. She was standing at my bedroom door and was cold. I mean, she actually felt cold, but she seems better this morning.”

  “She gets that way sometimes,” Debbie said, holding out her hand for Susie to come her way. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Maggie did not say anything as Susie walked past her to Debbie’s open hand. “Oh, one more thing, before you go. I thought I heard people in the hallway and using the elevator last night. Does that happen very often?”

  Debbie shook her head, dismissing Maggie’s question. “Probably Bruce; sometimes he has a party in his pad.” Debbie squinted. “But you should avoid the man. Sure, Bruce can be a nice guy, but he and I . . . Well, we kind of have a thing together. We’re tight if you know what I mean.”


  Maggie nodded, but she was not sure what Debbie was talking about. Were they romantically involved? She was curious but did not figure it was her business to know all about Debbie’s affairs or lack thereof.

  “Later,” Debbie said as she and Susie scurried away.

  No sooner had Maggie closed the door and locked it with her skeleton key when the cell phone rang. It was Jess.

  “Hey, Maggie, how was your night babysitting?”

  “It was fine. Susie slept most of the night.”

  “What about noises?”

  Maggie cleared her throat. “I did hear people and what sounded like someone turning my doorknob, but Debbie said Bruce sometimes has parties so I’m assuming that’s what I heard.”

  “Maybe,” Jess said with uncertainty. She paused and then said, “I know you probably don’t want to do this, but I think we should go back to your house and get things squared away. It’s been over a month.”

  Immediately, images of Cory dead on the floor, blood pooled around his head, and the gun at his side made her queasy. She did not want to go back there. After the police had given the okay, Jess and a couple other friends had cleaned the house, wiping the blood from the tile floor and making it look as though nothing had happened. But what still needed to be done was to go through papers and find insurance policies, bank statements, stocks certificates, and to get the will from the safe so that the estate could be settled. Maggie did not want to think about financial details but knew she had to do it.

  “I suppose.” Maggie sighed.

  “Great, I’ll pick you up around noon.”

  TEN

  “I’m stopping at Lenny’s,” Jess said. She slowed the car and pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot. “You’re going to need something strong to drink to get through this.”

  “Liquor?” Maggie frowned and looked at Jess as she pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car. “I suppose you’re right, but I’ll probably start bawling anyway once I start going through our things.”

  “It’ll make you feel better.”

  “It’ll make me feel hung-over.”

  Maggie and Jess walked into the store and up to the speedy checkout where the lottery tickets and liquor were kept. Jess bought a bottle of bourbon whiskey while Maggie bought one instant lottery ticket.

  “Big spender,” Jess said, picking up the brown paper bag with the bourbon inside.

  “It only takes one to win.” Maggie put the ticket into her purse.

  When they were walking out of the store, the old woman who was standing behind Maggie in the checkout lane a few days earlier was walking inside the store. She was hunched over and walked with shuffling steps. When the woman looked up and noticed Maggie, she tipped to the side and into a movie rental machine.

  “Are you all right?” Maggie asked, reaching over to keep her from falling.

  The old woman adjusted her shawl and her thick-lensed glasses. With cloudy cataract eyes, she looked straight at Maggie. “It is you,” she said, surprised at their meeting. “I may not see well, but I can tell you have something attached to you.”

  “Yes, we met the other day standing in line,” Maggie said, backing up. She decided to ignore her comment about something being attached to her.

  “Have you left that old sanatorium yet?”

  Wow, what is it with no one wanting her to live there? “No, I’m settling in.”

  “I wouldn’t settle in if I were you.” The woman then looked at Jess, who was still standing where she had stopped when Maggie ran up to help the woman. “And you, girly, over there. I don’t . . . I don’t like . . .”

  Jess began walking out the door, ignoring the old woman. “Maggie, come on.”

  Maggie watched Jess walk toward the car and then looked at the woman. “We haven’t been introduced, my name is Margaret McGee.”

  “I’m Claudia,” she said as people moved past them. She motioned for Maggie to come closer. “I don’t usually tell people things I see, but I feel you are in danger and that you need to move out of that old hospital and get new friends.”

  “I don’t understand. How do you know this?” Maggie said, her face was only inches from the woman’s wrinkled skin.

  “I was born with a gift, the gift of healing,” the woman said, tapping her cane on the slip resistant flooring. “Some call it a curse, especially since it took my health. But I can see things most people can’t.” Then seeming like she was becoming annoyed with the conversation she began shuffling away. In the same whiny voice she had used while putting the cantaloupe and prune juice on the checkout conveyor belt a few days earlier, she belted out, “Just trust me!”

  Maggie watched the woman continue inside the store. What in the world was that about? Moving out of her apartment was beginning to sound like a good idea, but leaving Jess? Jess was her best friend and she trusted her with her life. Maggie turned and walked back out to the car where Jess was waiting.

  “Who was that old bag,” Jess said, backing out of the parking spot.

  Maggie pulled the seatbelt across her body and latched it. “I met her a few days ago when I was getting groceries. She’s just concerned.”

  “She’s crazy.” Jess floored the car, causing its wheels to spray loose gravel at the car behind her.

  Maggie laughed. “I’m beginning to think everyone’s crazy.”

  ELEVEN

  After driving for an hour, Jess pulled into the driveway of Maggie’s two-story colonial home just outside the Breedsville city limits. She turned the ignition off and they sat there, staring at the house.

  Jess looked over at Maggie. “Are you ready to go in?”

  Maggie was surprised her hands were trembling as she took the house keys from her purse. “No, I’m not ready. I’m totally dreading this.”

  “Do you know where all the paperwork is that you need?”

  “It should be in Cory’s office in the file cabinet or in the safe.”

  Jess’s hand rested on top of the whiskey’s brown paper sack. “Do you remember how to get into the safe?”

  “Yeah.” Maggie nodded. “I haven’t been in it for a while but unless the combination was changed, I should be able to get into it.”

  Jess pulled the whiskey out of the sack and held it up. “Do you want a swig of this before we go inside?”

  “Nah,” Maggie said, opening the car door. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Jess held the bottle as they walked up the brick steps to the front door. Maggie unlocked the door but was afraid to open it.

  “Are you going inside?” Jess asked.

  Maggie put her hand on the brass knob, turned it, and pushed the door open. Jess walked past her and into the foyer.

  “It’s okay, Maggie. You can come in.”

  Maggie stepped onto the rug and stopped. She looked into the living room, then toward the stairway, and finally into the dining room. The oak table had it chairs pushed neatly into place. A vase with artificial daffodils sat on a doily in the center of the tabletop. Then she looked at the floor. It was clean. Actually, the house looked like it was ready to be shown by a Realtor during an open house. Nevertheless, images of Cory’s dead, crumpled body flashed through her mind. She could still see the red blood on the slate tile floor. The handgun that was at his side was the one that they kept locked inside the safe. At least it looked like their gun. The police had the gun now.

  “Are you okay?” Jess asked, noticing she was looking at the suicide scene.

  Maggie looked at Jess and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. You guys did a nice job cleaning the house.”

  “Anything to help,” Jess said, walking past the dining room table and into the kitchen as if nothing had ever happened. She retrieved two tumblers from the cupboard and put ice cubes into each. “Does ice get stale?” she asked, walking back to the foyer.

  “Probably,” Maggie said, taking the glass that Jess handed her.

  “What the hell.” Je
ss smiled and poured the bourbon over the ice. She raised her glass to propose a toast. “To our dear Cory: May you be in Heaven fifteen minutes before the devil knows you are dead.”

  “Hear, hear.”

  They clinked glasses, drank down the woody liquor, and then walked past the stairs to Cory’s office.

  Tears welled up in Maggie’s eyes when she saw the picture of her and Cory at the Grand Canyon. It was sitting on his desk next to the round glass paperweight with an American Staffordshire inside. She had gotten it for him on his birthday last year. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the side of her hand.

  Jess gave her a hug. “It’s okay, everything will be all right.”

  Maggie took a tissue from a box sitting on top of a worktable and dabbed the moisture around here puffy eyes. After she had shoved the tissue into her pocket, she walked over to the file cabinet. Even though Cory owned a construction company, he should have been an accountant because he kept meticulous records. Files were in alphabetical order and color-coded. She pulled open the second drawer and found the folder labeled INSURANCE and pulled it out from behind the folder labeled INCIDENTS.

  She sat at the desk and opened the folder. The auto, homeowners, and life insurance policies were inside. Maggie pulled out the life insurance policy and looked for the section on coverage for suicide cases. “Hmm, I’m not sure if the policy has coverage for suicide or not. It says that bodily injury that is the result of willful or malicious acts of the insured or is intended by the insured is excluded from coverage.”

  “Take it to a lawyer,” Jess said as she moved around the room, looking inside cabinets and drawers.

  “Yeah, I will.” Maggie looked up from the policy and watched Jess open a cigar box filled with miscellaneous items instead of cigars. “What are you looking for?”