The plot thickens

“I think someone’s following me”

It was all too much for Sharon. Her father had been murdered, her mother wrongly accused, the real killer was out there, and now this.

“The killer?” Emily asked through the phone and Sharon winced at the despair she heard in her big sister’s voice.

‘The killer’ was always on their minds. Sharon and Emily had sworn to their mother that they would find the real killer and vindicate her.

In her parent’s bedroom, Sharon had discovered a scrap of paper. She found it three days after the murder, beneath the bed her father had been killed on. It was a receipt for a pack of cigarettes. Neither of her parents smoked. The cigarettes had been purchased in the city two days before the murder. At that time the whole family had been miles from the city celebrating Emily’s 25th birthday. She knew that it wouldn’t close the case, but it proved someone else had been in the house. Sharon brought the receipt to her mother’s lawyer.

The judge ruled the receipt inadmissible.

As they spoke, Emily was driving to the store where the receipt came from. She was trying to find surveillance footage of the person who bought those cigarettes. Sharon stayed home to pack clothes. She would stay at Emily’s apartment; living in the old house was too painful.

“Sharon?” Emily’s voice came through the phone again. The despair was gone. Sharp concern had replaced it.

“I’m ok, just thinking about everything that’s happened.” Sharon sighed “I hope we can save her.”

“Mom?”

“Yes.”

“We will,” Sharon’s big sister assured” but tell me again why you think you’re being followed.”

Sharon took a deep breath.

“It started when I found the receipt. It was this strange sound. I thought it was rain until I looked outside. That sound, the tapping and clicking was why I found the receipt in the first place. I was looking all over the house to see where it was coming from. It became louder when I got up to mom and dad’s room then stopped when I looked under the bed.”

Sharon made a gulping sound as she swallowed the lump in her throat “Then I heard the breathing.”

“But no one was there.”

“Someone was there” Sharon insisted.

“But you didn’t see them.”

Sharon could hear the lack of inflection in her sister’s voice. Emily wasn’t asking questions. Emily didn’t believe her.

“It wasn’t the only time I’ve heard that sound… I think this person is using some sort of device.”

Emily didn’t respond.

“I’m not crazy” she said, but Sharon’s voice whined in such a way that it was hard to believe her.

“I know you’re not” Emily comforted “But this situation is. Pack your stuff; I’ll be over soon. We’re in this together Sis. We’ll figure this out.”

Sharon told her sister that she loved her and hung up the phone. It was the last time they would ever speak.

When Sharon turned around she screamed. There was a man standing right in her living room.

Despite the fear and alarm he had caused, the man himself wasn’t very intimidating. He was shorter than Sharon and skinny. He appeared to be in his mid forties. What little hair he had left was mostly grey and behind his thick glasses Sharon could see a slight cast to his left eye.

“Don’t be afraid” He soothed.

Sharon found his voice comical and disarming. It reminded her of the movie Fargo.

“Who are you” She asked.

“Jordan Brown. I’m a writer.”

Despite his mild nature Sharon sensed something ominous about him.

“Did you kill my father?”

“No…but I had something to do with it.”

Sharon grabbed the first thing she could to see. It was a porcelain figurine of a soldier, long and pointed at the end. She held it out defensively. Brown did not appear to notice.

“When you were seven” Brown spoke softly “You broke your grandmother’s antique watch. You buried it behind Emily’s tree house. You were afraid the boogeyman would eat you as punishment. Even though no one ever found it, you were terrified for a month. Sometimes you still have nightmares.”

Sharon felt cold. Her hand holding the figurine had dropped to her side. “How could you know that?”

“I told you,” Brown smiled “I’m a writer. You, Sharon, are a character in my book.”

“You’re the one stalking me”

Brown laughed. “I’m writing you! But, I suppose you could put it that way. I guess all writers stalk their characters; the good ones at least. That’s how we make you so real.”

Sharon snatched up the home phone.

“That won’t do you any good” Brown admonished “The killer has already cut the phone lines.”

Sharon began frantically searching for her cell phone. Her heart was pounding and Brown wouldn’t stop talking.

“Sharon,” He continued “I’ve never liked a character as much as I like you. It kills me to let this happen to you, but the story needs it. I promise your mother will be ok. I haven’t figured out yet, who the killer is, But Emily is going to get him. Everything is going to be ok except…”

Suddenly a figure dressed in dark clothes seized Sharon from behind. A large gloved hand covered her mouth and nose and she realized she was being suffocated. Her eyes were wide and supplicating as she watched the writer stand before her. His body seemed to be made of vapors, now slowly drifting away. Before Sharon went into her own darkness, she saw a tear slip down Brown’s cheek.

****

Emily pulled her car into the store parking lot and got out. She walked towards the little convenience shop and prayed they would have the surveillance tape. Just before she entered, she heard a strange sound. Emily thought about Sharon and the strange clicking she described and then shrugged.
No big deal, Emily thought to her self and then whispered, “Sounds like a typewriter.”