Sometimes, the uncompromising NEED to write takes over everything. Sometimes, it doesn’t. I have a short story idea in my head, but I think I need to flush it out a bit before I write it out. It’ll be a second part to The Usual, one of the short stories in my collection Enter the Maze. We’ll see what happens with it.
I also have an idea for an idontknowwhat and will write it out and see where it goes. Until then, enjoy a short story I wrote a while back. It was based on a prompt of: I’m a curious person.
It was supposed to be a 3 minute fiction if read out load, written for a contest. Didn’t win, but had fun with it. Hope you do, too.
I’m a curious person. No, I’m a nosy person. No, I’m a snoop. I’m a private investigator and it’s finally gotten me into trouble.
If I can get out before the police find me, I’m in the clear.
He came to me a month ago. He thought his wife was cheating on him, and wanted to save his marriage. He kept asking for advice and I started looking into it. We’ve been friends for years. He can’t afford my rates. I did it for free, without telling him.
I didn’t notice anything wrong at first. She had a normal routine: went to work, the gym, went home. Eventually, I told him I was looking into it, but she wasn’t seeing anyone. I was going to drop it when things changed. She didn’t take the usual way home, and often made quick turns without signaling. I put a tracking device on her car; she couldn’t lose me. It was odd, though. There was no reason for things to change. I wondered if she knew someone was following her, but let it go.
Then he called me, frantic. She was gone. He was sure she had gone away with her lover. I tracked her to her folks and told him where she was. She came back into town the next day. In the pictures I took, she looked terrified. He called me and told me to drop the case, but something felt off. Don’t ask me how, but I got her phone records, the numbers anyway. He was the only one that contacted her. I was suspicious. If she had a lover, she never contacted him.
Today, I received all her records: phone calls and texts. The day after I told him I was looking into things, he let her know someone was threatening to kill them. Someone was following them both. He was terrified for their lives. It escalated quickly until she told him she was going to hide. She went to her folks without telling him.
A few hours later, he sent her a text saying someone knew where she was. She wasn’t safe at her parents’ place. She came back because I told him where she was. Something was going on and I didn’t like it. He was playing us both, giving us different information, but I didn’t know why.
After he left for work today, I went to their apartment to talk to her. The door was open a crack. I opened it and found her dead on the floor, a knife nearby. I tried to leave, but realized the police were already in the building. They know me, and I didn’t want them to think I killed her. I have to find him. I don’t know if he killed her, but I came to the apartment a few moments after he left, and didn’t see anyone else leave. Friend or not, if he killed her, he’s going to jail.