For Centuries More by Ethan Johnson

Author:Ethan Johnson [Johnson, Ethan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ethan Johnson
Published: 2019-04-28T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 38: THE UNINVITED

Jacqueline looked up at Agnes and Lauren’s two-story apartment building. She wrinkled her nose at the paltry shrubs that lined the front of the building to either side of the front entrance. She approached the front door and looked for a buzzer panel. Mother said Agnes had been job-hunting, but Jacqueline took a chance on her being home. Past experience suggested the odds were in her favor.

Jacqueline tugged at the door handle, expecting it to be locked. What sort of rental unit wouldn’t have at least rudimentary access control? Her residence featured a doorman and 24-hour security, but she and Richardson paid handsomely for them. This building appeared to be lacking in any sort of amenities. Jacqueline let out a scandalized gasp when the front door swung open.

She stepped gingerly up the stairs, not trusting them to remain intact as she advanced toward her siblings’ apartment. One of the stairs creaked and Jacqueline gripped the handrail nervously, only to have the railing creak and bend in response. She yelped and marched briskly up the stairs. Jacqueline found the correct apartment and put her ear to the door. She heard a television. Maybe Lauren was home, she thought. Or maybe both girls were out, and they were trying to fool potential burglars. Jacqueline let off a derisive snort. Anybody stealing from this place had to be truly desperate, she thought darkly.

She rapped at the door. It had a peephole installed. Jacqueline tried to peek into the bright spot of light in hopes of catching a glimpse of who would be answering her summons. The bright pinpoint dimmed as footsteps approached, then darkened completely. The occupant lingered at the door for a moment, then padded away.

Jacqueline relaxed her tight posture and said, “Hmph!” She rapped harder and shook her head before assuming her formal pose once more. The footsteps did not return. The bright pinpoint of light shined through the peephole unabated. She beat her fist against the door.

“Lauren, I would appreciate it if you would answer the door.”

Hesitant footsteps sounded beyond the scratched and well-worn door. The scrape of a chain lock sliding across the door greeted her ears next, and the door opened a crack, stopped short by a thin brass chain. Jacqueline stepped forward, expecting to be let in, only to be greeted by Agnes’s sallow cheek and sunken eye. “Morris residence.”

“Agnes, open the door. This is no way to greet me after I’ve come all this way.”

“You said you were here to see Lauren. There’s nobody by that name here. We don’t accept solicitation,” Agnes said simply, and closed the door. A deadbolt flicked shut and Agnes walked away.

Jacqueline was thunderstruck. Fine, so she didn’t refer to her youngest sister as “Gracie”. Did she ever? And since when was Agnes such a stickler for semantics? She fished her phone from her purse and dialed the number Mother had passed along. A phone rang deep within the apartment. Footsteps faded from the door, then the line clicked as Agnes answered.

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