Killer Yarns

What’s in the Box?

Jessica woke from her nap feeling as tired as she had when she fell asleep.  Looking over at the clock she could see that three hours had passed not one.  Well, no one has shown up to arrest me yet so I guess I still have time to get things in order.  In order.  Is that what you call cleaning up your dead husband’s body?  The husband you killed?  She was astounded by her own nonchalance regarding Mike’s death. 

She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.  Just before her feet hit the floor she heard it again.

Hissssssssssssss

What in the Hell is that?? She pulled her legs back onto the bed and under her in one swift motion.  She sat motionless waiting to hear the sound again.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Jessica turned off the two lane road onto the long private dirt road to her parents’ cabin.  Her parents insisted on calling the road “The Drive” something she didn’t understand anymore than why they called the house a cabin. The drive was surrounded by tall redwood trees, the ground thick with ferns and under growth.  It was as beautiful as she remembered. The drive had two long meandering curves then straightened out just as it came upon the cabin.  At that point she could choose to turn right and park in the circular drive directly in front of the house or continue to follow the drive to the garage that was to the left and behind the house. She chose to put her car in the garage. Feeling a little paranoid Jess? It’s not like anyone could see your car from the road.  From the road you can’t even tell there is a house here. Always better to be safe than sorry, right?  She closed the garage door making sure everything was locked tight and turned toward the house.  It was such a lovely old house.  The back wall had four floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed the sun into the living room and provided a view of the surrounding forest.  The old leaky kitchen window was there staring at her as well; reminding her that she never changed it out as her mother had asked.  Her parents had died so quickly she just didn’t have time. She remembered the day her mother asked about the window Jessica had been visiting for a long weekend.  It was the Thursday she arrived and she thought she could set something up for the next weekend and come back again.  It was after she got home on Sunday that she got the call that her parents were dead. Those are bad memories.  Think of something else. She left the kitchen door open to help air the place out.

After all of the windows were open and Jessica felt certain that no one else was now or had been in the house, she went back out to her car to get her bag.   She was wiggling the handle on the side door before remembering she had locked it along with everything else including her car. She went back and got her keys and opened the garage.  I miss daddy’s old truck.  I wonder what happened to it. Just get your bag and get in the house, you can reminisce later.  She grabbed her bag off the back seat and went back out the side door and thought there’s really no need to lock it out here Jessie girl.  She was humming as she walked back across the yard, carrying the bag and leaving the garage door unlocked.  She walked through the kitchen, closing the door this time, around the corner and down the short hall to the bedroom placing the bag on the bed. 

She unzipped the bag, saw the UPS box and stopped humming.  She had managed to forget everything.  It must have been because I was thinking about daddy’s truck.  How else could I forget?  She sat on the bed holding the box on her lap.  It felt wrong to open it since it wasn’t hers but she knew she had to if she had any hope of figuring out what was happening.

She slowly unfolded the top and then inside flaps.  Jessica frowned when she saw that the contents of the box were wrapped in a piece of fabric. How odd; not packing peanuts but fabric. I don’t think I have ever seen that before.  She reached to unfold the material, hesitating for a moment while she felt true fear of what may be inside.  Finally she just whipped the fabric open. 

Inside the box she found a box of hypodermic needles and four smaller boxes.  She picked one up turning it all around as she inspected the outside.  There wasn’t any printing on the smaller boxes and they all appeared to be the same size.  She opened the one in her hand and found four glass vials without labels.  She held one up to the light.  Her breath caught in her throat and she could feel the goose flesh on her arms and back.  She realized she had broken into a cold sweat and she was shaking.  She put the vial back into the box and closed the lid.  Very carefully she set the box on the bed and backed across the room. 

Jessica leaned against the dresser, her arms wrapped around herself in a weak effort to stop the shaking while she stared at the box.  In a voice that was no louder than a whisper she said “How could it be?”  After a moment she said it again. And then her voice began to get louder and louder as though someone was holding down a volume control button as she chanted the same four words over and over.

“How could it be? How coulditbehowcoulditbehowcoulditbe….

Join me next Friday, August 28 for the next installment of Deadly Medicine.

Dawnda Schaefer

http://www.killeryarns.com/