Brenda shut the door. “I have some trunks in the basement.”
“Now she might be killed. Or worse,” Jane whispered through clenched teeth.
“What’s that now? What about killing?” Brenda started to look alarmed.
“Nothing, nothing. Jane thinks the police look for excuses to kill everyone. Bad childhood,” Tristan patted Brenda reassuringly on the arm while opening the door to the basement and snapping on the light.
Jane began to descend and motioned for Tristan to follow. He and Brenda quickly followed. The basement was exactly like the one next door. A few stacks of boxes were neatly lined up by an old table and an antique trunk.
“Oh,” Brenda said, “I thought I had two trunks.”
Tristan looked at the trunk, at Jane, back at the trunk. “We’ll make this work. I would never have fit anyway.” He lifted the domed lid and peered in. Only a few pieces of vintage clothing lay within. He scooped them out and handed them to Brenda. “Miss, if you please.” He gestured for Jane to get in.
“It’s lined in lead. I’ll suffocate,” Jane protested.
Tristan looked inside and shook his head. “No, there are a few gaps in the corner joints. It won’t be long at any rate.”
Jane looked dubious.
Tristan sighed. “Pretend you’re a vampire. Now, get in.”
“What about you?” Jane asked.
“I’m an actor. I’ll improvise.”
Jane had lain down, curled into a tight ball, knees under chin. Turning her head awkwardly she looked at Tristan. “You’re an actor? Really?”
“Indeed I am. Closing the lid now.” Jane’s arm shot out and stopped the lid.
“How good of an actor?”
“We’ll find out, won’t we?”
Tristan folded Jane’s arm and closed the lid.
“Brenda-“ Tristan began, as someone rapped loudly on her door.
“Now what?” Brenda asked.
“We answer the door,” replied Tristan, trotting up the stairs. Brenda started after him, realized she was still holding the clothes from the trunk, and set them on the old table.
“Wait! Are you sure?” she called, following him up.
Tristan waited for her in the front room. Someone rapped again this time accompanied by a voice.
“Open up, please. We need to ask you a few questions about your neighbors.”
Brenda moved toward the door and Tristan stopped her. “Wait,” he told her. “Just a moment!” he called to the man outside.
Quickly he unbuttoned his shirt as Brenda’s eyes widened. “Muss your hair,” he told her, running his hands briskly over his head.
Brenda did as asked, looking confused. When Tristan reached for her blouse buttons, she squeaked in surprise then smiled broadly. “I get it. The old distract them with embarrassment trick.” She winked and waggled her brows. By now her minimal cleavage and bra were exposed.
Tristan moved toward the couch, unbuttoning his pants. Brenda gasped and giggled. He flopped on the couch and gestured for her to open the door. She cracked it open and peeked out.
“Can I help you?”
“Good evening, Miss,” responded a suave man’s voice. “We are quite sorry to disturb you at this awkward hour. Are you acquainted with your neighbors? Do you speak to them on a regular basis?”
YOU ARE READING
Jane 23
General FictionA woman runs through the night, seeking safety, a place to hide. She has no shoes. Her feet are bleeding. A town appears out of the night. Stumbling through the streets, she breaks into a flat. She takes some food and contemplates her next move when...
