Page 138 - The Houseguest

DAY NINE
I grabbed the remote and flipped over to the local news. There it was...after nine days missing, a woman was finally reported missing from her job and home in the NY metropolitan area. A neighbor had reported a stench emanating from an apartment, so the building’s superintendent entered and found a dead cat on the kitchen floor, near its empty food and water bowl. The reporter stated: “Apparently, the woman’s beloved cat had no water or food for an undetermined amount of time.” I snickered at how the media turns things around to meet their narrative. Beloved? She didn’t even give the damn thing a name. I thought of the irony of her taking in this feline to “save” and by doing so, preventing it from surviving on its own, like most of us are forced to do in the end.
A grainy video from the security cameras showed the abduction. I watched intently to make sure it picked up the obvious clues I’d left for investigators. I nodded in acknowledgement as the cameras honed in to focus on the victim, and the man who accosted her. There, in the still frame was a clear shot of the gold and black Rolex Submariner, one of the many breadcrumbs I’d left on the trail for hungry detectives. Yet, as they reported, the man’s face was covered.
It wouldn’t be long now until they linked the evidence to Brian, my poor Houseguest working every day believing he was turning his life around. Brian! I’d forgotten to tell Brian that I would be away on business, though I’d mentioned it to him in the past that I could decide to vacate at any time with no notice and not to be alarmed. After all, we weren’t friends, or even roommates who had the occasional
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life