***So far, Miranda has been talked to by police for threatening the town pervert.  She has a former high school friend who is hell bent on rekindling their friendship.  With her co-worker, Rita's warning in the back of her mind, Miranda finds herself looking over her shoulder frequently. ****

 

 

 

 

I go into the back office and look at the surveillance cameras.  I'm checking for two faces.  Neither welcome here.  One is a nuisance.  The other is a bigger problem.

 

Now, if you know anything about me, you know I don't get flustered easily.  Rita was pretty knowledgeable about the whole psycho-babble thing.  I pressed her for more information and even had her check out stuff on her phone.  So much of the stuff that happened between Missy and me throughout high school fit the description.  She made sure I knew she was smarter than me.  She had the uncanny talent to kiss up to teachers and others, whereas, I never had the ability to fake them out because my face ratted me out.

 

Rita knocks on the door.   "What are you doing?"  Her eyes flicker to the desk.  She probably thought I was doing some orders, but the desk top is clear.

 

"I'm puzzled."

 

"About?"

 

"Why after all this time, Missy is chatting me up?"

 

"Maybe she's just lonely.  She doesn't really have anybody now that Justin has gone missing."

 

"Then she should have thought about that before she killed him."

 

Before Rita has the chance to say it, I correct myself.

 

"Allegedly killed him."

 

Rita glances behind her, checking to see if any customers are nearby.

 

"Do you really think she killed Justin?"

 

"Let's put it this way.  I don't think he's sunning himself on a beach in the Cayman Islands. "

 

Rita rubs her hands over her arms as if chilled.  "I sure do hope you're wrong.  No offense."

 

I look back at the monitor.  "I hear ya."

 

When Rita goes back out to tend the register, I close the door and pick up the phone and dial the number to home.  It rings four times before Waylon answers. 

 

"Hello."

 

"Hey, just checking in.  Are you bored yet?"

 

"How can anyone be bored when there is the Price is Right, The Young and Restless and The Bold and the Beautiful?"  He says with a flatness to his voice.  

 

"Done any schoolwork?"

 

"Some.  What time do you get off?"

 

"You won't see me until ten tonight.  Listen, do me a favor and just make sure the door to the trailer is locked.  And don't answer it.  If anyone comes knocking."

 

"Okay, that's weird and random."

 

"It is.  Sorry.  Just had an issue earlier and I'm a little on edge."  I don't get an answer so now I'm afraid I've spooked the kid. "I'm just being paranoid.  Just lock up for me."

 

"Okay.  What do I do about dinner?"

 

"You fix yourself something.  Didn't figure I'd have to explain that to you."  I'm joking and I think I hear a stifled laugh.  "There are frozen dinners in the freezer.  Peanut butter in the cabinet, there's a few packets of Ramen in the cabinet over the microwave."

 

"Ok."

 

"Lock up.  I'll see you tonight."

 

 

             *******************

 

 

It's a slow night tonight.  Any normal day I'd enjoy the quiet.  But today has taken its toll on me.  First, Mr. Talleywacker then Mrs. Alleged Murderer then Officer Mitch.  How much can one girl take in a day?  Now, I'm finding myself scanning the parking lot and double checking the door that leads out back for the third time.

 

"Miranda," I say to myself.  "You are tougher than this.  How dare you let these weirdos put you on edge.  Go gather the trash and get ready to count down the till.  You're thinking like a helpless woman.  You are a force.  A force to be reckoned with."  I do give myself the best pep talks.

 

The last words are just out of my mouth when the bells on the door chime.  In walks a tourist.  And do you know how I know it's a tourist?  He is wearing a Patterson Surf's Up t-shirt.  No local would be caught dead in that.

 

"Evening.   Enjoying your vacation?"

 

He smiles at me with a hint of surprise on his face.

 

"Where are you from?"

 

"Ohio."  

 

"That's a hike from here."

 

"Just eleven hours.  Not bad."

 

I look out to see what kind of car he's in and if he's at one of the pumps.  He's just here for beverages apparently because he's pulled up in front of the store.  I look past his car and squint.  I can see the front end of a car sticking out just past the dumpster.

 

My stomach does a weak flip.  No trash tonight, Miranda.  Not on your life.  Well, really, not on my life.  

 

Mr. Ohio brings up two six packs.  He looks of age but I still ask for ID.  He hands it over, looks around while I do the math and finally takes a breath when I tell him he's good to go.

 

I follow him to the door and lock it close on his heels.  I scan the parking lot.  The car behind the dumpster is gone.

 

I write up today's receipts, stow the bank bag in the small safe behind the desk in the office.  Quickly, I check the monitors.  The only car in the parking lot is mine.

 

I scribble a note to leave on the front counter.  "Sorry about the trash.  See you tomorrow, Miranda."

 

A good night's sleep is all I need.  I just need to get home, have a beer, a shower and close my eyes.  

 

I pull the door to the office closed and I lock it.  That's when I hear the doorknob to the back door.  Someone is turning it.

 

 

To be continued ...