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Deadly Lullaby

Deadly Lullaby / Chapter 3

Deadly Lullaby / Chapter 3

Sep 15, 2022

    I drove for a few hours, sticking to back roads in case Jonas reported his car stolen. When sleep was about to get the best of me, I pulled off the road behind a billboard for McGeordie's Garden Center. The bushes and flowers growing beneath the sign gave excellent cover. I turned the dome light on and counted the money, three hundred twenty-two dollars and ninety-one cents. It was definitely not my best haul, and as I thought about Gary sitting in a jail cell, confused and heartbroken, I wondered if it had even been worth it.

    But then I remembered what my father always said, "Guilt is a useless emotion, Molly. It's good for nothing except holding you back. Would Nixon have become president if he had let a little guilt get in his way? Heck no!"

    Granted, my ambitions were slightly less than presidential, but the principle still held true. While Gary had been planning a justice of the peace and a honeymoon in Niagara Falls, I had been planning my escape. I knew Gary was tired of the criminal shenanigans. He said this would be our last job, then we'd go straight and make an honest living. I pretended to want that too because it was easier than some messy, emotional, breakup, sure to end with Gary blubbering as I skulked out the door. I certainly had no intention of living in the suburbs and raising a pack of smelly, ungrateful kids. 

    There was really nothing to feel guilty about. I had no choice, and Gary would be better off in the long run. I mean, this was the second time I ditched him at a crime scene and left him to the wolves, or rather, the pigs. He would have to hate me instead of thinking of me as the lost love of his life. Yes, this was best for both of us. I didn't know why I even gave it a second thought, this wasn't like me at all.

    I reclined in the driver's seat and used the money bag as a pillow. Normally I have no trouble falling asleep, but on this night my skin was all prickles, my heart raced in an inexplicable panic, and I couldn't shake the feeling  I was being watched. It was just the darkness, I reasoned. Here I was, alone beside a rural back road in the middle of the night. It was the sort of situation a hapless starlet in a horror movie would wander into.

    I laughed at myself. This was real life, not a horror movie, and the only person hiding behind the bushes was me. I finally managed a little shut-eye, but it couldn't have been much. The sun had yet to rise when I awoke. The temperature had dropped considerably and the car windows suddenly fogged over. I gave up on sleep, adjusted the seat, and started the engine. The front defrosters weren't making any progress. I checked the side windows and a palm suddenly slapped the driver's side window, leaving a print before wiping the fog away. If the cops had found me, I needed to bolt. I turned on the wipers and cranked the defrosters to the highest setting.

    But it wasn't a cop. A pale young woman with russet-brown hair and startling blue eyes peered in. Her face was expressionless as she opened her mouth and screamed. 

    I didn't know what this chick's problem was; if she needed help or if she was just plain nuts, but I was not about to get involved. Her appearance and that scream jarred me to the marrow. Though the wipers and defrosters had no effect, I floored the gas pedal, driving straight ahead. 

    Unfortunately, straight ahead pitched me into a culvert. I opened the door and looked back. The girl was moving through the fog. It was so thick I could only see her from the shoulders up. She continued towards me, seeming to float. 

    The Malibu's nose was firmly planted in dirt and steam rose from the engine. I grabbed my bag and ran. I'm usually fast and steady on my feet, but usually I'm running on flat sidewalks and streets with city lights to guide me. Though the sky was slowly getting lighter, the ground was still little more than shadows and indistinct shapes that rose and dipped beneath me. I lost my balance when my right foot landed in a hole and sent me tumbling down a bramble-covered hill.

    When I stopped rolling, I looked all around. The girl was gone. I sat down and took inventory of the damage. My getaway car was toast, my black leggings were torn at the knees, my jacket had sustained multiple tears, and I had lost my ski mask. Other than that, I was fine.

    Or was I? I had a nagging feeling that I had lost something other than my ski mask. Then it hit me; the money! Somewhere on that hill I had dropped the bag. 

    I scrambled to my feet to retrace my path but I was stopped short by a creature which absolutely terrified me. It stared at me with large round eyes, brown, black and white fur, and a wagging tail. Okay, it was a beagle, but not just any beagle. This beagle's fur formed brown patches around his eyes and most of his face, but there was a perfect diamond of white fur in the center of his eyes. It looked exactly like the dog father had doted on: Buddy the Beagle. I hadn't seen that dog in fourteen years. It couldn't possibly be the same dog. I was so startled by the similarities that I almost didn't notice the straps of my bag in his mouth. 

    "Here boy!" I said, pretending to be a friendly human who just wanted to play fetch. 

    The dog tilted his head and stared at me before taking off. Cash flew from the bag as he ran and the wind picked up, carrying it to parts unknown. I ran after the dog, but he was preternaturally fast. I could have sworn his feet didn't even touch the ground.

    The dog was long gone, as was my money. I stood in the wide open field and looked at the dawn sky, now filled with vibrant pink, yellow, and orange. I lifted my arms and shouted to the God I didn't believe in, "Are you kidding me?"

    There was no answer so I trudged up the hill and sat on a tree stump. After I caught my breath, I followed the road, hoping it would lead me to  civilization. 

    I'm not sure how long I walked. It felt like hours before the scenery evolved from wild flowers, corn fields, and grazing cattle to a smattering of homes and Mom and Pop stores, to a freeway filled with street lights, traffic, and people, some of whom stepped back and stared at me as I walked by.

    I checked my reflection in a shop window. Strands of thin red hair stood upright. Apparently the ski mask had charged them with static electricity. I patted them down, but they immediately rose up again. The holes in my leggings had widened and fluffs of cotton poked out of the tears in my jacket. I preferred to blend into my surroundings, and this was no way to do it. Not only did I stick out like a leather jacket at a PETA meeting, my stomach was empty and my legs ached. 

    The building next door was a restaurant, Le Magnifique. The exterior put on an effort to appear upscale as did the customers filing in. I walked to the side of the building and found a door marked "exit only" and entered. 
    There was a half-finished bowl of ratatouille on a recently vacated table as well as a newspaper, a pen, and a pair of sunglasses. I sat down, pocketed the pen, perched the sunglasses on top of my head, and hid behind the newspaper as I dug into the vegetables. I worried that someone would notice I was scavenging. I peered around the newspaper to see if anyone was staring at me, but the customers were too wrapped up in their own worlds to pay any mind.

    The guy at the table in front of mine, for instance, had his head in his hands and stared into his coffee cup as if he was upset it couldn't tell him the meaning of life. The chick sitting across from him wore an expensive looking tartan peacoat and dangly pearl earrings. Her chestnut hair had been expertly high-lighted with dark blonde tones and was twisted into a tight side bun. Coffee Guy, on the other hand, wore a gray tee shirt and a brown blazer that was missing the top button. His mop of dark curls was in need of a trim, and one arm of his Buddy Holly style glasses was held on by so many layers of clear tape that it was no longer transparent but had become cloudy and opaque. 

    "You're kidding me," said Coffee Guy, finally looking up. "Why didn't she tell me in person?" 

    "She's incredibly busy, Lucas," said Miss Peacoat as she took a small black box from her purse and slid it across the table.

    Small black boxes often contain expensive jewelry. This conversation suddenly became a lot more interesting. I stopped eating and leaned forward.

    "Too busy to break my heart in person? Too busy to explain why she's willing to throw away our whole relationship?"

    Miss Peacoat sighed and her voice assumed the calm, measured tones of an adult trying to placate a toddler.

      "Lucas, someone in Amelia's position has obligations. Her absence from certain functions could irreparably damage not only her career prospects, but also her family's business and social standing. It's far more complicated than your job at the diner. The two of you wouldn't have lasted. Just forget about her and have a nice little life, okay?"

    She left the table and walked out while this Lucas guy stared at the black box. 

    "A nice little life?" he repeated, then he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

    This was my chance! I sprang from my seat, grabbed the box, and pushed through the line at the front door. 

    "Hey!" Lucas shouted, but he was too late; I was already outside.

    He exited from the side door and ran after me. I had a head start but I was already exhausted and he was catching up. I turned down random streets and threw sidewalk displays into his path, but he still kept pace with me. 

    "Give it back and I won't press charges!" he shouted. "That's my dead grandmother's ring!"

    "Yeah, well I need it a hell of a lot more than she does!" I shouted back.

    A little girl on a scooter turned onto the sidewalk in front of me. I shoved the box into my pocket and pushed the kid aside, commandeering her scooter. Then I rolled down the next alley.

    Looking back, I saw no sign of my pursuer. I chuckled and picked up speed to make sure he couldn't possibly catch up. I was nearly out of the alley when he jumped in front of me. I tried to steer around him but the handlebar was loose and wobbling, and I careened in the opposite direction. I dragged my foot, trying to stop, but I was going too fast and heading toward a streetlamp. I felt the cold metal against my head just before the world faded to black. 


yamilikethis23
The Mysterious Y

Creator

Hmmm....is this a meet-cute? Only time will tell!

#mystery #supernatural #romance

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Petty crook, Molly Boggs, has spent a lifetime suppressing her feelings. But that changes when she starts seeing spirits and sensing their emotions. When local urban legend, Singing Susie, attaches herself to Molly, she is forced to solve the mystery of her death with the help of handsome but hapless Lucas Baxter-Bean. Can Molly navigate her own emotions while solving the mystery?
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Deadly Lullaby / Chapter 3

Deadly Lullaby / Chapter 3

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