Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery) (29 page)

Stretching her arms out in front of her,
she
made her way into the kitchen and found a flashlight in the cupboard
.
“Please work, please work
,”
she whispered. She flipped the switch and a beam of light shone against the kitchen wall
.
“Thank God,” she murmured
.
She
went
back into the living room and
glanced
out the front window to see if the neighbors’
lights were out too but, to her dismay, she saw
that there were
lights
on
in several other houses across the street.
She looked through the peephole
but she couldn’t see a thing
.
The lights
in the hallway were
on a timer; they should be on
. “Great,” she muttered.
Well, you have no choice, she told herself
.
You
h
ave to go to the basement and check the circuit breakers. She went into the kitchen and grabbed
her keys off
of
a hook above
the counter.

She
went
back
through the living room and out into the entryway, locking the apartment
door
behind her and putting the keys in her pocket. She took a deep breath as she grasped the knob of
the basement door and turned it
.
She hated going to the basement, even to do laundry, which she always made sure to do in the daytime
.
The thought of going down there now, in the pitch
blackness, terrified her
.
The image of the thick stone walls, low ceilings and catacomb-like structure of the basement, with one small room leading to another and
then
another, sent chills down her spine
.
She’d always felt like anyone or anything could hide there and no one would know
.

She
had never minded the fact that the front door to the house was always unlocked
.
After all, it was Olivia’s house and, if that’s what Olivia was
accustomed
to, she had to accept it
.
She felt safe enough just locking her apartment door
.
However
, when they’d first moved in, she’d asked Olivia to keep the door to the basement locked at all times and Olivia had agreed
.
Unfortunately, more often than not, Lawrence or Charlie, the handyman, forgot to lock it
.

But,
she
realized, as she stood there, building up the nerve to go downstairs, even with the
upstairs door locked,
there are still
a few small windows down there,
barely
big enough for a person to squeeze through and get in
.
What if someone’s down there now? she wondered
.
What if someone turned off the circuit breakers to lure me to the basement?
The only things I have to defend myself with are a flashlight and a set of keys.

The door squeaked as she opened it, reminding her of a scene in a scary movie
.
This is the part where the audience
in the movie theater
is saying, “Don’t go down there
!
Don’t go down there!” she thought
.
Great,
Ann,
why don’t you make yourself more nervous
?
She took a deep breath, telling herself to calm down
.
There’s nothing to be afraid of
.
Stop being a nervous Nellie and act like a grownup
.
She
turned the light switch on at the top of the stairs so the lights would come on after she flipped the circuit breaker
.
She
went down the steps slowly, holding on to the banister with one hand and the flashlight with the other.

Luckily, she
knew
where the electric box was located
.
She
made her way across the basement floor
, through stacks of boxes and crates,
and
found it on the far
wall
.
She
brushed a cobweb from across her face and was about to flip the switch
for the main breaker
when she heard a sound coming from behind her
.
She spun around and, in the instant before she dropped her flashlight on the
cement
floor, she gasped as she saw a figure coming toward her
.
Instantly, she broke out in a sweat and began to tremble.
Where could she run? How could she get away? The man was blocking her path.

“
It’s okay.
It’s me
.
Don’t be afraid.”

She
let out a deep breath
.
“Thank God
!
Lawrence, you about gave me a heart attack
!”
She bent over to pick up her flashlight, which miraculously, was still working.

“I’m sorry
.
I didn’t mean to
frighten
you,”
he
said.

“
No problem
.
Let’s just get these lights back on
.”
She
flipped the breaker switch up and
the lights came on. She
turned around, bumping into
him
.
Instead of backing away, he stood there, inches from her, gazing at her face
.
“Excuse me, Lawrence, but I’ve got to get back upstairs
.
If the kids wake up, they’ll be frightened if I’m not there.”

He didn’t move for a few long seconds and
she
began
to get nervous
.
Then, all of a sudden, he stepped back and let her pass
.
“See you later,” he said as
she
hurried past him. “Be careful on the stairs,” he called after her
.
She
all but flew up the steps.

As soon as she was inside her apartment,
she
locked the door and leaned against it
.
Her heart was beating so fast she felt like she’d just finished running a race
.
My God, I was afraid of Lawrence, she thought
.
She pictured him standing so close to her, staring
into her eyes
, refusing to move
.
Why was he acting that way?
s
he wondered.
And what about the note I got
yesterday and the one
today?
They weren’t
like the others I’ve gotten from
him
so I assumed that
someone else wrote
them
.

But, what if it wasn’t
someone else
?
What if Lawrence did write
them
? Could his
crush on me ha
ve
turned into some kind of sick obsession
?
Maybe he’s finally realized that I only want him as a friend, that I’m not interested in him romantically. Maybe that’s made him angry with me.
Could he be angry enough to want to harm
or even kill
me?
Scenes from the movie,
Fatal Attraction,
played themselves out in her head
.
Like the obsessed woman in the movie, could Lawrence’s feelings of love for her have turned into something more sinister, even deadly
?
What if he’s …
?

No
!
That’s ridiculous
.
He’s one of the sweetest people I know
.
He wouldn’t hurt a fly
.
It’s me
.
I’m sure I misinterpreted things.
I’m seeing ghosts and shadows wherever I turn these days
.
I’m a nervous wreck
.
Listening to that psychologist on television
tonight
sure didn’t help my frame of mind.
First, I think
my own husband
is the Westwood Strangler and now
I think
Lawrence
is
?
I’m the one who’s losing it
!
I’m letting my imagination run away with me.
I need to get a grip and I need to get some sleep
.
             

She went through the living room and kitchen, turning off
the
lights
.
She
checked the burners on the stove and the lock on the kitchen door and walked down the hallway to peek in on each of her sleeping children
.
Satisfied
that everything was as it should be, she went
down
the hall to her own bedroom and got into bed
.
She
pull
ed
the soft,
down
quilt
around her
, turned to lay on her left side
and tuck
ed
her feet and arms in
,
creating her own
cocoon
.
She
pulled the comforter up to her chin and
curled up into a fetal position, the only way she could ever fall asleep.

But, tired as
she
was, a sound sleep evaded her
.
For hours, she would doze off and then wake up a couple of minutes later
, each time, glancing at the clock
.
When she finally did fall into a
solid
sleep, she had a nightmare
.
When she woke up, she saw that she’d flung her covers off. H
er heart
was
beating fast and the images
were
so vivid in her mind that
the dream
seemed real
.

In the dream, she was running from someone – she couldn’t see his face
–
through the rooms in the dark, damp basement
.
No matter how fast she ran, her pursuer was always right behind her, reaching out, trying to grab her
, missing her by only inches
.
Her heart was racing and her breath came in short, shallow gasps.
Twice, s
he stumbled and started to fall but quickly
regained
her balance
.
She knew that, if he caught her, he would kill her
.
I felt like a rat in a maze, she thought, running from room to room, unable to find my way
out. I was terrified and I felt so helpless and alone. That’s how the Strangler’s victims must feel
right before he kills
them, she thought
.

She
shivered
.
She readjusted her covers and
pull
ed
the comforter
back
up to her chin
.
Oh, my God
.
What’s wrong with me lately? she wondered
.
I feel like I’m losing my grip
.
And where is David
?
Is he staying out all night again?

Chapter 2
9

LAWRENCE STAYED IN THE BASEMENT
for a long time after Ann had gone upstairs
.
He sat down on an old crate in a corner and
rested his
back against the cool, damp wall. He watched, fascinated, as a
large brown
spider closed in on a fly
,
which
had gotten caught in its web
.
The spider was taking its time, teasing and torturing the fly, before it
began to
devour it.

As a child, he’d spent a lot of time in the
damp
, musty basement
.
On sunny days, when all the other kids were out playing ball or going swimming,
he
had used old cardboard boxes and crates to set up a fort like the ones he saw on the television shows he watched
.
Other times, he pretended that the boxes and crates were wagons and he’d line them up to play cowboys and
i
ndians all by himself
.
He kept himself entertained for hours, letting his vivid imagination run wild as he played the roles of his heroes
:
the Lone Ranger, Matt Dillon, the Rifleman and others.