During the next several months the only time she had laid eyes on her neighbour was when he was supervising the unloading of furniture and large boxes that had been delivered by a flotilla of delivery vans. There were, on average, she estimated, four deliveries a week. When he did leave the house she really didn't see him so she wasn't even sure he was in the car or if he was driving or being driven. The windows on the Chrysler were so heavily tinted the inside was a mystery.
Sue assumed that the occupants could see her house though and maybe even her on the verandah watering the hanging baskets and trying to see inside the jet black passing car. Whenever Harry caught a glimpse of it coming or going from his man cave he would sing out something to the effect that the "Mafia Staff Car" was on the move again.
It was about four months ago that the delivery trucks and vans had finally ceased, save for the occasional small food delivery van. Sue still kept an eye out but hadn't seen Mr Mengle for over a fortnight. She began to speculate that he was away. Perhaps he had returned to the Caribbean to escape the Seattle winter. Lord knows he could afford it.
Then, one day, out of the blue, a workman turned up and placed a placard in front of the house. She had rung Harry excitedly and told him that perhaps Mr. Mengle had put his house on the market and had moved back to Marsh Harbour.
"Good riddance," was her husband's response.
"Now don't be like that honey, he hasn't hurt anyone now, has he? Why are you so anti-him?"
"Don't know really, just creeps me out living next door to a recluse. In my experience they are all at best eccentric, at worst serial killers," he said half-jokingly.
YOU ARE READING
The Facilitator© First Published 2023
Mystery / ThrillerA new neighbor moves in. He is reclusive. He seems to never leave the house. He causes trouble in the neighborhood He turns your life upside down. Then he is gone, replaced by a handsome relative. A well known doctor who promises to fix all your pr...
