she heard
made her jump. Even though she never saw anything on the dark walk home, her
heart was going off like an alarm clock. Locking each of her three locks on the
door, made Betsie feel a tiny bit safer, but it wasn’t until she climbed into
bed and pushed the largest knife from the kitchen under her mattress that she
fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Two
For two weeks, nothing unusual happened
in Betsie’s life. She was beginning to doubt that she even heard what she
thought she heard. She certainly didn’t trust her safety by staying late
anymore, and was often the first to leave the building when her shift ended. Miss
Hildebrand began to notice.
“Miss Wolfe, you aren’t putting forth
an effort anymore. This is not the way to get ahead at Anderson Trucking. I had
such high hopes for you, even sharing with Mr. Anderson about your work ethic.
Now, I am disappointed and you don’t want to disappoint me.” Miss Hildebrand
spoke in a somber tone.
“I’m sorry Miss Hildebrand. I’ve been
taking care of my neighbor’s dog,” crossing her fingers behind her back to
negate her fib and hoping that her dad would forgive this small little lie. “I
had to get home to make sure he went out.”
Miss Hildebrand’s eyes squinted with
doubt. “Just make sure to do better or else…”
The secretaries were worse. “Who are
you dating?” “Do you have another job?” They all demanded an answer for
Betsie’s sudden change in job performance.
Deciding to give into the pressure,
Betsie stayed late again that night. Sitting
at her desk, she tried to get her work done but her mind continued to race back
to the night that she heard the threatening drug deal, making her stomach
clench.
As the rest of the secretaries left,
night crept into the building. The hum of the florescent lights became more
noticeable and the temperature in the office dropped with the loss of body
heat. Worried and waiting for something to happen, Betsie couldn’t keep her
mind on her work. She filed the Hilman contract under the letter ‘T’ and
managed to snag her pantyhose on the filing drawer.
Finally fed up with the tension, she
left her desk, shut down the lights in the office, and locked the door. With
her small clutch purse in one hand, she started the lonely walk to her
apartment, six blocks over from the employee parking garage. Someday, I’ll have enough money for a car of
my own. She thought with envy. Maybe something in a green color but with good gas mileage.
So focused on the noises around her,
Betsie tripped over a patch of broken concrete and went sprawling on the floor,
her purse hit the concrete and one lipstick tube rolled across the garage floor.
Crawling on her hands and knees, Betsie yelled at herself in her head for her
accident. Oh no. Isn’t that my luck! Everything has gone wrong
today! Where is my purse? What fell out?
Suddenly a car appeared around the
back of the garage and screeches to a halt. The sounds of yelling and gunfire
erupted in the silence of the parking garage. Diving flat on the ground, Betsie
begins to say all the prayers she remembered from the past twenty-three years
of Catholic Mass. As a body crashed to the ground, the black sports car with
the silver trim drove away.
Betsie hid on the ground near the
edge of a large blue sedan, praying no one could hear her. The silence after
such a deafening noise grated on Betsie’s nerves. Without thought for herself,
she rushed over to the body to see if they needed help.
“Oh, my, gosh, it’s Johnny from the
warehouse. Johnny, Johnny, are you okay?” She placed
her hands on his chest to see if he was still breathing, only to pull away
abruptly when she felt the wetness of his shirt.
Looking down at her hands, “Oh no.
Blood! Johnny!” But his death was as evident as the large hole in the front of
his shirt gushing blood on the pavement.
“I can’t be caught here.” Betsie
realized with the dead body beside her that the garage
made her jump. Even though she never saw anything on the dark walk home, her
heart was going off like an alarm clock. Locking each of her three locks on the
door, made Betsie feel a tiny bit safer, but it wasn’t until she climbed into
bed and pushed the largest knife from the kitchen under her mattress that she
fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Two
For two weeks, nothing unusual happened
in Betsie’s life. She was beginning to doubt that she even heard what she
thought she heard. She certainly didn’t trust her safety by staying late
anymore, and was often the first to leave the building when her shift ended. Miss
Hildebrand began to notice.
“Miss Wolfe, you aren’t putting forth
an effort anymore. This is not the way to get ahead at Anderson Trucking. I had
such high hopes for you, even sharing with Mr. Anderson about your work ethic.
Now, I am disappointed and you don’t want to disappoint me.” Miss Hildebrand
spoke in a somber tone.
“I’m sorry Miss Hildebrand. I’ve been
taking care of my neighbor’s dog,” crossing her fingers behind her back to
negate her fib and hoping that her dad would forgive this small little lie. “I
had to get home to make sure he went out.”
Miss Hildebrand’s eyes squinted with
doubt. “Just make sure to do better or else…”
The secretaries were worse. “Who are
you dating?” “Do you have another job?” They all demanded an answer for
Betsie’s sudden change in job performance.
Deciding to give into the pressure,
Betsie stayed late again that night. Sitting
at her desk, she tried to get her work done but her mind continued to race back
to the night that she heard the threatening drug deal, making her stomach
clench.
As the rest of the secretaries left,
night crept into the building. The hum of the florescent lights became more
noticeable and the temperature in the office dropped with the loss of body
heat. Worried and waiting for something to happen, Betsie couldn’t keep her
mind on her work. She filed the Hilman contract under the letter ‘T’ and
managed to snag her pantyhose on the filing drawer.
Finally fed up with the tension, she
left her desk, shut down the lights in the office, and locked the door. With
her small clutch purse in one hand, she started the lonely walk to her
apartment, six blocks over from the employee parking garage. Someday, I’ll have enough money for a car of
my own. She thought with envy. Maybe something in a green color but with good gas mileage.
So focused on the noises around her,
Betsie tripped over a patch of broken concrete and went sprawling on the floor,
her purse hit the concrete and one lipstick tube rolled across the garage floor.
Crawling on her hands and knees, Betsie yelled at herself in her head for her
accident. Oh no. Isn’t that my luck! Everything has gone wrong
today! Where is my purse? What fell out?
Suddenly a car appeared around the
back of the garage and screeches to a halt. The sounds of yelling and gunfire
erupted in the silence of the parking garage. Diving flat on the ground, Betsie
begins to say all the prayers she remembered from the past twenty-three years
of Catholic Mass. As a body crashed to the ground, the black sports car with
the silver trim drove away.
Betsie hid on the ground near the
edge of a large blue sedan, praying no one could hear her. The silence after
such a deafening noise grated on Betsie’s nerves. Without thought for herself,
she rushed over to the body to see if they needed help.
“Oh, my, gosh, it’s Johnny from the
warehouse. Johnny, Johnny, are you okay?” She placed
her hands on his chest to see if he was still breathing, only to pull away
abruptly when she felt the wetness of his shirt.
Looking down at her hands, “Oh no.
Blood! Johnny!” But his death was as evident as the large hole in the front of
his shirt gushing blood on the pavement.
“I can’t be caught here.” Betsie
realized with the dead body beside her that the garage
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