13. The Apartment #2
The drive through town was quiet. It wasn’t long before they left the posh downtown part of the city and were in a more rundown section.
There were no streetlights to give the illusion of safety in the dark. Thankfully, for the most part, the city was relatively safe, even for women.
“There is your landlord, Steve. Do you need help getting into your apartment? It looks as though you are missing all your personal belongings.” Meg was peering out, watching Steve sweeping the sidewalk in front of the building.
He wore blue coveralls, and his thinning blond hair was brushed over to the side in an attempt to look like a full head. His full brown mustache trailed down into a full beard that went well past his chin.
“Yes, I had to leave everything at the park so the police could process the situation. I am sure they will be available to return to me when they get my official statement.” Darla opened the door and paused.
“Would you mind helping to explain the situation to Steve? I am not sure I am ready to revisit the events of today just yet.”
“Of course.” Meg stepped out of the car and walked up to Steve. Darla watched as Meg shared the story of how Darla barely escaped death and didn’t have her keys to get inside.
Truthfully, Darla didn’t mind telling the story. She just didn’t have the energy to fake knowing Steve or having to lie anymore for the day. She watched as Steve took off his hat and nodded his head in acknowledgement of the situation. Meg waved at Darla, signaling it was time to go inside.
“Hi Darla, I am sorry to hear about your friends. I am glad to see you are safe and home now. I’ll let you in tonight, and first thing tomorrow I’ll have new keys made by the locksmith, so you won’t need to wait on the police.” Darla relaxed as the first step in accessing her new life was complete.
Steve looked Darla up and down as she approached the two of them on the sidewalk. “Meg was right. You are quite the sight, right out of a horror film.”
Darla offered an amused smile, finding humor in the fact that she felt like she was in a horror film, but she was not the victim. She was the victor. She turned to Meg and offered a weak hug.
“Thank you for the ride home.”
“Let me know if you need a ride back to your car tomorrow.” Meg squeezed Darla’s arms before offering a final glance and nodded at Steve. Steve and Darla watched in silence as Meg returned to her car and drove away.
“Shall we?” Darla motioned toward the door more aggressively than she intended. “I am ready to clean up and climb into the safety of my bed for the evening.”
Steve nodded solemnly and turned towards the entrance to the building. It was a three-story red brick building with traditional inspired architecture.
He pulled out a set of keys and opened the main door to the building. The hallway was wider than she was expecting, white with wood panel details and a dark wood floor.
An “Office - No Entry” gold plate hung on the door to her left, and no other doors were visible on the left side of the hallway. She assumed that side of the building was where Steve lived and worked.
There were two doors along the right side of the wall, indicating two separate units. In the back of the hallway was another door leading to a stairwell.
They passed through this door and made their way silently up to the third floor.
Once there, they faced towards the front of the building.
This floor only had two doors on either side, only two units.
Darla was happy to see that she wouldn’t be crammed in a closet for the night, and it really was only going to be one night.
Tomorrow I will locate the VanHugh key and claim my inheritance. Then the real fun begins.
Steve cleared his throat as they stopped at her door.
“I know the timing isn’t quite right, but it’s a real shame to hear about your fellow, Doug. When you feel ready to move on, I’d like to take you out on a date, and we can share a milkshake.”
Darla stared at the audacity of this man, to try and take advantage of a stressful situation for his own benefit.
“Thank you for your condolences, but I am not sure I will ever be able to move on from my first true love.” Darla looked away from him and stared at her door, willing it to open with her mind.
Steve shuffled the keys up to the door and opened it for her. Once inside she quickly closed it and locked it tightly.
Without the light from the hallway, the room was bathed in darkness.
She had no idea where the lamp might be.
Hands out in front of her, she began feeling around in the dark.
She rammed her shin into the coffee table and cursed under her breath.
She didn’t like the dark and felt a panic build inside her.
If I could just make it back to the front door, I could crack it enough to see where the lamp is. She fumbled her way back to the door and bumped into the floor lamp. She hastily clicked it on, and the once-scary darkness evaporated in an instant.
She stood in a tidy living room. A pale-yellow couch and matching chairs sat neatly around a solid wood coffee table, which was crooked from her knocking into it. Behind her was the front door, leading out to the hallway.
To her left was a dining table and chairs with a buffet stand up against the back wall. It was filled with dishes and a variety of drinking glasses. A swinging door was on the left wall, which she assumed led into the kitchen.
After years living in the VanHugh mansion, she welcomed the feminine space: the soft inviting furniture and the cute bookshelf filled with colorful spines. There was even a tall indoor plant that brightened the room in a way that calmed her.
Two doors were on the right; she made her way to the one that seemed to lead to the bathroom.
She was rewarded with a welcomed sight by choosing the correct door.
A pink-themed bathroom with a deep tub called her name.
She rushed over to start filling the tub and was thankful the water warmed up quickly.
She left the bathroom and made her way to check out the kitchen.
Once there, she swung the door open and stopped in her tracks.
The muted green cabinets were unlike anything she had seen before.
The appliances were all updated, and all the colors seemed to not match but perfectly worked together in the design.
She opened the fridge and found a half-eaten casserole.
Old Darla popped into her mind as she realized she took her life, and now that poor woman was going to be stuck in the body of a killer in jail. But she was the killer.
I had to do it. I was given this gift for a reason, she reasoned as she pulled the casserole out and closed the fridge.
After placing the casserole on the small dining table attached to a small booth, she began searching for silverware. She was surprised that it only took looking in two drawers to locate it.
It was clear that the Darla before was dead set on being a housewife and mother. The amount of time spent here was reflected in how well organized the space was as well as the beautiful design.
She headed back to the bathroom and planned to eat the cold casserole while soaking in a hot bath. She placed the casserole on the floor next to the tub and opened the cabinet above the sink. There, she found all the body and hair soaps she would need.
She undressed and climbed into the full tub. The warm water hit her body, and she was instantly relaxed. She scrubbed all the blood from her body, and once she was satisfied that she was clean, she reached down to get the casserole to eat and think.
I can’t believe I shot two people today. It all happened so fast. I saw the opportunity and I took it. Is there no limit to what I will do? Despite the warm water, her body shivered as the adrenaline wore off.
The air felt as though it was stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t breathe. She dropped the dish to the floor, and it clanged against the tile as she clung to the edge of the tub choking on her sobs as the weight of the day crashed down on her.
Breathe. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I can do this. Darla closed her eyes and focused on steadying her breathing and slowing her heart. Once she felt calm enough, she leaned back and lowered her head into the water until just her nose was poking out.
I need a new plan. I need to get back in control, and then everything will be okay.
Her first plan for tomorrow was to locate the key and go to the bank. She already knew how to claim the inheritance since she created the instructions as Richard.
Then she was going to sell off the entire company she had built, fire all of the staff, and set up her own bank account in her name.
The apartment that Darla owned was quite satisfactory and she felt that living modestly would allow the fortune awaiting her to stretch even longer.
It would also allow her to build her wealth up faster when the expenses were kept low.
Comparing how she lived as Richard to how a librarian was living made her realize she had wasted too much money on silly things.
She resurfaced realizing she was about to control a man’s wealth without having to have the actual man. All decisions would be hers to make: where to live, how to spend. She wouldn’t even have to work if she didn’t want to, at least, not right away.
She leaned back and smiled, finally feeling at peace.
In a new, young, fresh body, her future looked brighter than ever.
She closed her eyes and realized just how heavy they felt all of a sudden.
The water had cooled, signifying it was time to get out.
She stood and pulled the plug to allow the now pink water to drain.
No towels hung in the bathroom, and she knew she was going to have to walk, dripping wet, to the bedroom and search for a towel there. She carefully stepped out on the wood floors and continued to carefully tiptoe to the room next door.
There was a light switch on the wall in the living room leading into the bedroom. It was handy to not be soaking wet and fumbling for a light. When she opened the door, she stopped dead in her tracks. Covering all the walls were pictures. The subject matter was the same in every single one: Doug.