How to Kill a Man in Thirty Seconds

Chapter 24: Something Strange

"This doesn't make sense, Charley," Oliver informed me, pacing up and down my living room.

As soon as realization had hit me, I had called mum. But she seemed to have no idea why that box had turned up on my doorstep. She hadn't the faintest clue why these objects in particular were significant, so the news hadn't exactly fazed her.

I hadn't wanted to worry her before I had figured out myself what this meant. So after convincing her it was probably one of my friends trying to be nice, I had hung up and alerted Oliver.

"This could be nothing," Oliver told me, placing his hand comfortingly on my shoulder, but his wide hazel eyes told me he was pulling his last straw here.

"No one knew other than my father," I repeated for what felt like the hundredth time that hour. My legs felt numb and my heart still hadn't slowed down.

Was this supposed to be some sort of message? Who had sent it to me?

For one wild, desperate moment I had considered the possibility that dad was still alive. That he was forced to remain hidden for some reason that I couldn't fathom. That this was his way of letting me know that. But I brushed away that possibility.

Stop it, Charley. He's dead. You saw his body. You held his hand at his funeral. He's gone.

"Look," Oliver attempted to reason, "The fact that you like horror isn't exactly top secret. There's a high chance he let it slip to someone; I mean, for all we know, it could've been you that gave it away to a friend."

"But if it was a friend that sent this," I argued, "Why didn't they write their name? It's not as if it's that difficult."

The knowledge that whoever sent this, knew where I lived sent chills down my spine.

Oliver stayed silent, unable to reason any further.

"Is this some sort of threat? Like he- or she- knows things about me that they shouldn't be knowing?" I voiced my fears, my eyes widening.

Oliver was gnawing on his lip, clearly deep in thought. Out of all of my friends, he was the most intelligent, the most reasonable. That was why I trusted him.

"We should call the cops," he suddenly announced, retrieving his phone.

"But what do we tell them?" my panic stricken words stilled his movement, "That someone decided to send me a present? And it happened to be a DVD and food? That they forgot to mention their name on the card?"

Oliver slumped against the wall in defeat, looking crestfallen. He was taking this so personally when it wasn't even his problem.

I sighed, "It's getting late, Ol. I'll figure something out. You should go home."

"Stop it, Charley," Oliver snapped, then flinched, "Sorry. I'm just real freaked out right now. But you know I'm staying. At least till your mum gets back." I nodded, feeling grateful, because my heart was still thumping erratically in fear. He frowned, "You are going to tell your mum, aren't you?"

I paused. Thought.

"I don't know. I mean, she's going to freak, Ol. I don't want anything more on her plate."

"Charley, this is about staying safe, not creating a false sense of security. You know that."

I only stared back at him, knowing he was right.

The following day, I arrived home after school to find a full house. To my surprise, mum was already there, in the living room with a glass of champagne and she was accompanied by Isaac and a petite blonde woman I immediately recognized.