Leftovers by Chloe Kendrick Read Free Book Online

try the doorbell. There would be absolutely no excuse for me to break into the home if she was already there and alive. Plus it would be hard to explain to Mariel why I hadn’t bothered to knock.
    Then I needed an excuse to go around to the back of the house. From the rear of the house, I could see if I could find a way into Mariel’s home without being seen. It was not easy, but I knew that I had to do something. I strongly suspected that Mariel was either dead or dying, and I wanted to know that I had done my best to save her. I felt like I had gotten her into this situation by calling her and pushing her to talk about her sister and the family. If I could, it was my responsibility to get her out of this situation.
    I grabbed a manila envelope that had held some junk mail offers, and stuffed a few pieces of other junk mail in it. I had no plan to leave the papers there. I was taking Land’s admonishment to not be identified to heart. No one paid attention to sales people, especially door-to-door sales people. I would only use the papers as a cover, taking them with me as I went.
    I walked to the front door. Someone had told me that no one notices people who act like they know what they are doing. So I tried to project a confident persona, but after seeing a woman shot down in the city today, I felt anything but confident. I felt like someone was about two steps behind me and gaining fast. I fought the urge to scan the trees for hidden gunmen.
    I rapped on the door several times, but no one came to the door. I looked for a doorbell, but there was none. I waited, knocked again, acting as if I was surprised that she wasn’t home. I waited again, and then took my packet of papers clearly in my hands and walked around the side of the house.
    There was a small latched fence, and I opened the latch without problems and walked into the backyard. The fence wasn’t high enough to mask what I was doing from the neighbors. So I took the few steps up to the backdoor and knocked again. There was a doorbell here, and I rang it. I could hear the sound echo through the house, so I knew that it worked and someone should hear it if they were home—and alive.
    I shifted the papers from one hand to the other, and when I did, they fell to the ground. I leaned down to get them. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that one of the basement windows leaned inward.
    I walked down to the ground level to get a better look at the window. Since I was pretending to be self-confident, I didn’t have the time to dither as to whether to do this or not. I sat down on the ground and slid my body through the window in a single gymnast-like movement.
    I found myself in the basement, a plain concrete and beams sort of place. The laundry facilities were next to the window, and I looked around, but I couldn’t see anything that would tell me about the woman of the house. Millions of homes had similar set-ups all around the country.
    I slowly walked toward the stairs leading upward. I was concerned about ferocious dogs and being locked in the basement. The first was not a huge concern, because I’d knocked and rung the doorbell enough to try a St. Bernard’s patience. So I doubted that a dog would appear now, growling and barking. Any pet that slow, I could outrun.
    The other was a bigger fear, as then I’d have to try to make my way back out of the window. I hadn’t seen any form of ladder in the basement, so I’d have to wrangle boxes or something to stand on in order to comfortably reach the window. All of that action would give the neighbors time to decide that something was wrong with my approach and call the police. While they’d be appreciative to know what I found here, I knew that their gratitude would not extend to giving me a pass on committing B&E. So my best hope was to get upstairs and find out what was going on.
    I took the stairs slowly. While I had called out a few times since I’d been in the house, the thought of someone waiting at