Page 3 of The Life She Had

I push open the door and use my cell phone light to look inside. I don’t expect to see anything. No one would be using the shed in the condition it’s in, the interior filled with broken pieces of tools I couldn’t even identify the last time. Rusted metal and rotting wood and—

I blink and lean in for a better look. The metal is still there, and the wood, and it’s still scattered around, but it looks...

As if someone tidied the shed while leaving junk lying about?

I give my head a shake. No one Aaron sends is going to replace the door stopper and oil the hinges and tidy up while leaving junk artfully strewn about to make it seem untouched. That’s the sort of hired killer Hollywood envisions. Anyone Aaron sent would just hole up in the shed until nightfall, bust in the back door and drag me back to his boss.

No one is here, and no one has been here in a very long time.

I back out, shut the door and peer up at the sky. Black clouds creep inexorably toward me, a stealth storm hidden under cover of bright sunshine.

I peer at the shed again. Then I shake it off. No one is here. No one has been here. The only thing I need to worry about is battening the hatches before the storm strikes.

I take one last look around before heading inside.

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