ALL THE WRONG MOVES

ALL THE WRONG MOVES

Sally drove the old station wagon down the highway, half expecting that the contents that filled the vehicle would never make it to her new home without being broken to bits. She had packed hurriedly, as the new landlord had just called to say she could move in, and she wasted no time in leaving Jeffersonville.

Seeing her exit up ahead, she slowed to make the turn. A tractor trailer rig that had been following her blew its air horn and flew past her. "All right!" she said to herself, "I'm glad to be off the highway and away from all this traffic!"

She stopped for gas at the first service station, and added a soda and cracker snack to her purchase. The greasy attendant took her money and smiled at her. "You're new around here, aren't you?" he asked.

Sally nodded, and left the station, conscious of the attendant's stare as she left. He certainly had given her a creepy feeling. It wasn't the grease that had stained his hands and clothes, just the way that he had looked at her.

Pulling up to the little white house with its dark green shutters, she was relieved to see the landlord outside. She got out and introduced herself. He shook her hand warmly, and opened the door to let her in.

Sunlight flooded the living room, making it seem warm and welcoming. The house was partially furnished with pieces the landlord had explained that the previous tenant had left behind. That was great, as far as she was concerned, having left a much smaller apartment and needing the furniture that was in this house. She walked through the rooms with the landlord, delighting in the fresh smell of cleaning materials.

Jack Simpson had been the landlord of this house for about five years. He took care of his tenants, made sure the lawn was mowed, the flowerbeds groomed and if the tenants needed anything at all, he was at their call.

Sally signed the lease and handed Jack the money. Receipt in hand, she looked out at the station wagon, thinking of the boxes she still had to bring in. Jack immediately offered his help. Together they emptied the station wagon of its contents, and he readied to leave, handing her the keys to the house. "Probably be a good idea to make sure its locked up at night" he said. "There's been a couple burglaries in the area in the past few months. Don't worry though, cause I am within calling distance. I live in the house next door, and you can call me anytime, day or night!"

Sally was too tired to worry much about it. She had always locked up at night, wherever she lived. Just a normal safety precaution. She thanked him and went back to the business of unpacking.

Before long, the house began to take on her own personality. as pictures were hung and her own belongings were placed. Tired, she sat down in the recliner to rest. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that there was a stain on the carpet.

It appeared to have been scrubbed, for it was lighter than the rest of the carpet. "Accidents happen", she thought, and dismissed it completely.

She made herself a sandwich and cup of coffee, then set down at the kitchen table to eat. She had picked up a local paper, and started reading. Relaxed, she felt peaceful, tired and ready to go to bed. It would seem good to crawl into those sheets and cover up with a comforter. First, a shower. She went to the door and put on the chain lock, made sure the lock was set and checked the back door as well. This lock appeared to be broken, but a strong chain lock had been installed. Satisfied that the house was secure, she went to her room and prepared to shower.

The water felt good, and she shampooed her hair and took her time in the shower. She stepped out and toweled off, then put on the nightgown and robe. Slipping her feet into the slippers, she went out into the bedroom and back to the kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate. She turned on the radio for some music (and noise!) and picked up the paper again.

Nothing much in the local news, and she turned the pages to the want ads. Her house was still listed. Hopefully that ad would soon be out of the paper. She didn't want anyone coming around looking to rent.

A short blocked notice caught her eye. It read, in part, "$10,000 REWARD for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the person or persons responsible for a break-in at 188 Maple Drive." Sally realized that was the number of this house! She was glad she had remembered to lock up tight. Finishing her hot chocolate, she went up to bed, turning out the lights as she went. She had been in bed only a few minutes before she fell fast asleep.

Sometime in the night, she thought she heard sounds downstairs. She quietly got up and tiptoed to the door. Sure enough, she could hear someone walking, and then they stumbled into something. She heard a muffled cry of pain. Sally went to the phone and dialed 911, then her landlord. When he didn't answer, she hung up the phone and went into the closet, hiding, to wait for the police.

And the police came, sirens blaring! She heard a door slam, and the sound of running feet outside. Then a loud pounding on the door, and the police demanded to be let in. "Great!" She thought. "They will never catch anyone that way!" She ran downstairs, switching on lights as she went. Opening the door, she saw two policemen who evidently had come directly from a coffee shop, as one had donut powder on his shirt.

She explained what she had heard, and the policemen walked with her to the kitchen. Sure enough, the chain lock was off, and a few of the kitchen cabinet doors were opened. "Now what would anyone want in there?" she thought. Then she noticed the knife rack on the counter. She was sure it had been full when she was in the kitchen earlier. One of the knives was missing.
She didn't mention this to the police.

After making out a report, the policemen walked around outside, proclaimed everything was in order and there was no sign of an intruder. The older policeman said "Just be careful to get that lock fixed, M'am. The last time we were here there was a bit of trouble, and the tenant was killed."

"In this house?" Sally asked, quietly. "yes, m'am" he replied. "Never did find the culprit." Sally smiled at his choice of words. Surely he watched too many movies! "Who lived here before?" she asked. "Lady by the name of Cynthia Ryan" he said. "Was killed right in the living room, a pretty bad scene it was." That explained the stain on the carpet, at least, Sally thought.

As she watched them drive away, she wondered who would have come into the house this late at night. It had to be someone fairly familiar with the place. Maybe Cynthia's boyfriend or even the landlord! She would ask him in the morning!

A sound behind her brought her back to the present. She whirled around, and came face to face with her landlord, holding the missing knife.
"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed.

"I came to right a wrong, dear Sally. You see, it was NOT your boyfriend Sammy who was seeing Cynthia. It was me. I loved her. You killed her for no reason..no reason!" He began to sob. "Oh, for Pete's sake", Sally admonished. "What's the matter with you? Trying to blame ME for that?"

"I know it was you!" he said wearily. "I was on my way over that night, and saw your car drive in.
I watched as you pulled a gun on her, and shot her before I had a chance to do anything. Now I have my revenge, but you will die a slower death."

"No!" Sally screamed. "Maybe I made a wrong move, in thinking she was seeing my boyfriend, but I will not be turned in by the likes of you." She picked up an ashtray and threw it at him. It seemed to flutter in the air, then struck him in the head. He dropped the knife as his hand went up to his head. He felt the drops of blood.

In the next instant, Sally had pulled the gun from her bathrobe pocket, and aimed at him. "You seem to make all the wrong moves, friend. It's over for you!" and she pulled the trigger. He crumpled to the floor.

"Another wrong move, Lady" came a voice behind her. It was the policeman again. "Drop the gun!" The other officer ran to the side of the wounded man. "He'll be okay, sarge - just a flesh wound!" he reported.

"I thought you had gone!" Sally exclaimed. "Oh, we did go, lady. Then we got a call on the radio that a tip had come in from the service station attendant. He remembered seeing you here before, just after the murder."

They took Sally downtown and booked her. "Too bad", she thought."It was such a nice house, and I could've been happy here." She remembered the shocked look of Cynthia's face and her denials.

So she had killed the wrong woman, then rented her house! She thought she would get away from Sammy and his double crossing, cheating ways. She thought that by killing that woman, he might learn his lesson and be paid back for causing her grief. Instead, she had made a mess of the whole situation. She wondered what Sammy was doing now, and who with. It was over, not the way she expected it to end. Sammy was lost to her. There were no feelings left.

Countrymom
1/27/03