Knock on Wood by Leslie Manning

Author:Leslie Manning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie Author Project
Published: 2019-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 52

Leaning over the roof’s edge, I watched as the red-headed whore and who I assumed to be William’s manman headed up the sidewalk. But there was a man in the apartment too, someone called Lance. And Lance was not with the two women as they made their way up the block. I ran back to the pipe and listened again but could hear nothing.

The rain had stopped, but my clothes were wet and sticking uncomfortably to my skin.

Enough of this, I thought. Being a babysitter is not part of the plan—

Lance’s voice echoed through the pipe.

“Hi, babe,” he said. “No, he hasn’t come home yet. Everything’s alright, I’m sure. I’m gonna wait around a while longer, see if he shows up. If he doesn’t get here by the time I leave, I’ll file a report. Okay. Give them kisses for me. Love you too.”

I could have waited on the roof a while longer, but I was soaked to the core and wanted nothing more than to spend the evening with my family. I was sure William was fine. The same way I was sure that the plan would turn out perfectly.

My knees popped simultaneously as I stood. I went back through the roof door, made my way down the staircase, walked past William’s apartment, and down to the lobby. On the first floor, I stopped in front of apartment 1-A with its grotesque wreath of tiny trolls and slipped a twenty dollar bill through the crack beneath the door. That drunken fool could buy her own bottle of poison.

I had just stepped onto the sidewalk when voices came to my ears. Like a jackrabbit, I ducked behind a van parked along the curb, covering myself with as much shadow as possible.

“This is me and Donald’s apartment,” I heard William saying. “But he’s not around anymore.”

“Where’d he go?” another man asked.

I peeked through the van’s windows and spotted the police uniform. A gun was holstered on his hip. His badge reflected light from a nearby motel sign. I inched my way along the back of the van as the two men walked toward the apartment building. My fast food dinner bubbled up, burning my throat.

“He went on a business trip,” William told the officer.

Their conversation cut off as the front doors shut behind them.

I took a deep breath. My bladder filled.

A police officer? Bringing William back from where? He had left work hours ago. And since when did William have officers as friends? How many did he know? Then my brain rattled out of control: what if this officer was his uncle, or his dada? What if Donald was an undercover cop and not the lowlife gambler he pretended to be? What if William was faking his mental incapacities, planning to bring down Roly’s house of cards? Had he really won all that money on the Lotsa Luck Wheel Show? Or was that part of the scheme? Could it be I had been fooled all along, too exhausted to see

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