Signs Book One: The Unwanted by Michaels Andrew

Author:Michaels, Andrew [Michaels, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Supernatural Fiction, Thriller
Publisher: Artisan Publishing Guild, LLC
Published: 2015-02-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

When I came back down stairs to clean up the rat and any other glass that may have come from the lamp I found nothing there. “Your family must have been awfully hungry,” I lifted the lamp and wiped the area with bleach anyway. I pulled back a curtain and looked out at my little red hatchback, I knew going to visit a body shop was the right idea. I decided to reprint the two emails, the one from Richard and the one from his mystery friend ‘I wonder if Aubrey is the one who sent me that email.’ I formatted the emails onto a single document by adding Richard’s gibberish to the Cypher and left room at the bottom for writing the solution and pressed print. In the end it looked a lot like a word game when I was done. ‘After the week I’ve had, a blind date with a serial murder suspect felt par for the course.’

All set with the print out I grabbed my shopping list and I went out to get into my car. Remembering the awful smell I opened the door cautiously as to not be assaulted by the putrid aroma once again. I was instead pleasantly greeted with the sweet Pina-colada fragrance which came from the novelty hula-girl glued to the dashboard. “Hula-girl 1 ditch funk 0” I mused turning on my stereo looking forward to listening to my best of the 80s CD, the words ‘No Disc’ displayed on the readout.

“Pissy Shitty Mother Fucker!” I cursed epically, and reached under the passenger seat to grab my canvas CD carrier. I opened it to find no CDs inside. “Why not just take the entire case Nelli?” I drove off, my musical accompaniment having been left up to a local DJ. I dropped my suit off first, to get a good pressing done for the funeral.

“It’ll be ready in an hour.” The little old man said taking the black suit.

“Thank you I need it for a funeral tonight.” I said.

“Richard Schmidt or Dean Culten?” he asked.

“Richard,” I replied.

“My brother in law owns the mortuary. And I know those are the only two scheduled today. Sad though they were both young men, it shouldn’t be anyone that young when old bastards like me are still alive.” He said with a wink.

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