INFECTION 2.0

~ EIGHT ~

She wrapped her robe around her and pulled it tight as if to draw some kind of security from its softness and comfort. It was only when she stepped out of the bathroom that she began to feel much too alone. Something in her mind told her she should crawl in bed and cry. Physical she didn’t think she was capable of either, not for a little while at least. Another something in her mind reassured her that she was at home and safe now, but she did not feel that way either. A tinge of anger found her again, her boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, should have never been the asshole he was. He should have been with her tonight so this horrible thing never happened. And Carly. Carly should have never made her go, should have never left her once they were there. She should have left with her when she was ready, and she should be here now.

Tandy took several deep breaths and put some water on the stove for tea. A buzz from the call box made her jump. She turned to stare at the white rectangle next to the door wondering who could possibly be buzzing at this hour. It sounded a second time before she moved. Her voice was small and timid as she pushed the button and said, “Yes?”

“I’m Carson Lockley, with the Hallmark Police Department. Could you let me in for a minute?”

Tandy froze in surprise. What were the police doing here? Was he really a policeman? What if it was that guy from the roadhouse?

The man on the other end seemed to read her thoughts, “I can’t show you my badge from out here.”

Still, she hesitated.

“You are Tandy Malone, apartment 23, 406 Willow Street, aren’t you? Looks like you have a thing for breath mints and you must be the last living person to have a disposable camera with film in it.” There was a brief pause. “I have your handbag out here. I’d like to give it back, and ask just a question or two about why I have it instead of you.”

Tandy looked around her apartment then, from where she stood. As though she were expecting to see her purse sitting on the counter where she almost always put it when at home. Of course, it wasn’t there.

“Okay,” her voice was quiet and she pressed the open button.

A moment later there was a soft tap on the door. She opened it the small amount that the safety chain would allow.

“Tandy?”

She nodded.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t fit your bag through that opening, but just so you know I’m one of the good guys I can show you this.” The man held a small, leather billfold-type object to the door.

She took it and studied the badge and the photo ID for a moment before opening the door all the way and handing it back. In the doorway stood a man that appeared to be in his forties. His dark hair was beginning to go gray at the temples. Maybe five-ten, his shoulders were wide and the simple suit he wore did not quite fit right. Something purchased off a shelf rather than fitted for his frame.