Worst Week EVER

by Angela Parker

  Worst Week EVER

  Text and art

  copyright © 2014 Angela D Parker

  All rights reserved.

  No element of this publication may be reproduced in any format by any means without previous permission from the copyright possessor. To do so is illegal, immoral, and irritating.

  This is a work of fiction. All content including characters, names, places, and events are made up, imagined; forged by the author’s mind, or used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 1

  One week ago, she had been on the run and she had gone as far as a car would take her from the life she had left behind. She had bought four cars on her trip and used a different name each time. Now she was Roslyn Buchet and she was putting down roots in her new town of Victoria. It was small, unassuming and perfect. Her tire just blew out, and as it happened she was out of town a bit. Through the trees she saw the house she was going to spend the rest of her life in. It was love at first sight.

  She walked up the long gravel driveway and took in the sight before her. The house was large but not overly so, and there was a turret. Time had put a grayish tint on the otherwise red brick making up the walls and the roof was covered in the most beautiful weather worn tin shingles, which was a feature she had never before seen.

  She walked up the steps to a solid concrete porch to the most massive oak door she had ever seen. The door was covered in a carving of grape vines and in the center was a bell with a dainty chain. As she rang the bell the door creaked open. Apprehensive at first she hesitantly stepped inside. Her curiosity was too great to not explore just a little bit. She had stepped into a large foyer with a green marble floor and overhead was a beautiful chandelier. It must have had thousands of tiny beads scattering light over her surroundings. Roslyn called out for someone, but didn’t receive an answer. Thinking she had intruded too badly she turned to go and the door slammed in her face before she could leave.

  Frightened and stunned she backed up a few paces, and then moved to try the door. Unable to open it she shook her wits and turned to find a side exit. She moved to the parlor area and was admiring the décor when she spotted the house’s occupant. She stopped abruptly and let out a blood-curdling scream.

  Chapter 2

  Paul Leon was a small time crook right up until he got a big break with some bigger badder crooks. That’s what Cheryl had called him when they met; said he was a crook, because he stole her heart or some such bullshit. Well tonight he had a chance to make it big with a group of guys he met; he just had to pull off this little job to show them he meant business.

  He saw Cheryl at a fair in Long Island and thought she was a pretty little thing. He also thought she would make a great distraction while he pulled a job tonight. He made his introductions and set to work on wooing her. It had been a piece of cake. She hung on his every word and by the time his job went down he had her eating out of his hand. He knew the area was going to be busy so when they got near the security station he faked a heart attack. He whispered for her to go get the security guard, knowing she would look genuinely upset because she would be. When they got back he was gone, but his escapade had kept the officer occupied for long enough to gain him access to the safe where the permanent vendors made their hourly deposits. It was a quick in and out job and until the safe was cleaned out mid-morning the next day, the officer would just think she was crazy. He figured if the cop remembered either of them, it would be her.

  After he had the safe clean and the money tucked carefully in an obscure bush near the exit he hustled back to the general vicinity where they were looking for him and he did his best to look disoriented. They never suspected a thing. He told them he felt sick and took off to find the restroom and somehow got turned around. They bought that load of shit hook, line and sinker.

  When he was “feeling better” they left. He stopped by the bush and told Cheryl to come take a look. She had been amazed at how he had seen the bag as it blended in so well, and he had tried to look suitably astonished when they opened it to try to find identification and found gobs of money. Paul convinced her the only thing to do was take it home because it was probably from drugs or something and it wouldn’t do any good to turn it in because no one would claim it. She believed every word of it. She was a pretty little thing, but she sure didn’t have much in the brain department.

  Chapter 3

  As she stared at the body sitting calmly in front of the massive fireplace, she thought of the day she left her old life and her awful boyfriend. He thought she was the stupidest person on earth. At first she did care but when he took the bag home full of money and she heard on the news morning the fair had been robbed, the exact one they had been at last night, she knew the best way to look right now was stupid. She didn’t know what to do. She had cared for him immediately, but now she was starting to see him for who he really was, a thief and an asshole.

  She had relied on the generosity of others for more than half her life. When her parents died she had been sent to a foster home where her “new daddy” snuck into her room at night. She left there as soon as she was able and never looked back. She had moved around all the time, working where she could for food and a bed, and when opportunities dried up, she caught a ride to the next place. Until now people had been mostly friendly and helpful.

  She had considered going to the police but she overheard Paul bragging to one of his friends last night about how the cops were on the payroll so she didn’t know who to trust. She wanted to get away but she didn’t have any money of her own. She had spent every last penny she had to get to New York where she wanted to settle down and start her dream life. That night she mentioned going back to work, but he became furious and accused her of thinking he wasn’t man enough to take care of her. He proved he was man enough to take care of her when the time for make-up sex came about. He turned her around, pushed her face into the wall, then he pinned her hands roughly over her head. She heard him behind her unzip his pants and spit in his hand, and then she felt agony when he shoved his dick into her. Afterward, he had the audacity to complain about how she wasn’t wet for him, and then when she cried and said it was his fault, he had picked up a lamp and smashed it across her jaw. The change was night and day from the fair to the man he was behind closed doors.

  He rarely left her by herself, but when he did she made the most of her time trying to plan an escape. He had taken her to his house the very night they met, and strongly encouraged her to stay put. She was going to go to the store the next day, and she was met at the street by a large man. He made it very clear she needed to stay inside. It took her a few hours but she finally realized she was a prisoner now, and if she wanted to keep what little freedom she had then she probably shouldn’t push her boundaries.

  She found his retirement stash in her first afternoon. At least she nicknamed it a retirement stash because there was way too much cash there to carry around. She was going through the house looking for weak spots she could get through to sneak out if she needed to, and she found a loose board in the wall of the back porch. She was careful to put it back just as she found it. She knew if she kept her mouth shut this was her way out.

  Chapter 4

  Paul was getting tired
of his stupid little plaything. Cheryl wasn’t nearly as fun as he thought she would be. He usually kept them around for a few weeks and then dumped them, but she wasn’t providing much sport, and he couldn’t dump her now because he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t say anything about the money. He had hoped she would be his decoy and they could make a business together, but he found out after he got her home she didn’t have the personality he was looking for.

  He was trying to think of ways to get rid of her when it occurred to him he could just kill her. He used to come up with creative ways to leave them. He never stayed in one place too long and he never gave them his real last name, so he could just leave them and even if they knew anything they couldn’t trace it back to him. He hadn’t ever killed one of them before and he thought as dumb as Cheryl was, maybe he would be doing the world a favor if he just got rid of her. He was going to need a good place to put her so no one would find her, so he planned a little drive. He found her flipping through a magazine in the living room and told her he was going out to find a place to dispose of some trash laying around here for too long. He was laughing to himself as he walked out the door.

  Chapter 5

  She knew she had to get out now. If he was going to look for a place to get rid of garbage, she needed to get out now. She knew what he thought of her, he reminded her constantly.

  She ran to the bedroom as soon as he pulled away and grabbed a bag from the closet. She threw in a shirt and a pair of jeans, then blazed straight to the back porch. She carefully moved the board and took out as much money as she could get into the bag and pulled out another stack of cash and shoved it in her back pocket. She carefully put the board back and took off down the back steps to the alley behind the house. It was shabby, but the guy watching the house was in the front, and she thought if she hurried, she could get out of there while his back was turned. She wasn’t sure if Paul meant to kill her before, but if he didn’t he would have a change of heart when he found out about the money.

  She hastened to a car dealer a few blocks away and bought the cheapest car on the lot. She gave the owner a fake name and extra cash tossed the bag in the passenger seat and never looked back. She drove east as far as she could go, and traded the car for another. She drove north a long while and traded again, then drove south and traded in Georgia before she cut back and ended up in Texas. She had colored her hair and put it up and she had avoided using her real name anywhere so she felt confident she would be safe, at least for now. Now she has been on the road almost nonstop for a little more than two days and she had a blown tire, a psycho looking for her, a bag full of stolen cash, and now a dead body.

  Chapter 6

  That gutsy whore left him? He didn’t think so, but she wasn’t there. He had gone out and found the perfect place to put her body and now she wasn’t there for him to put her in it.

  There was no way she had left him. Her clothes were all still there as far as he could tell. She didn’t come with much, just one bag with a few outfits in it. He couldn’t tell if she had taken any or not. Maybe she just headed out for a walk and got lost or something. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge. As soon as she got home he would give her a little makeover. She wouldn’t want to go out looking like a clown from hell would she.

  He figured as long as she was gone he would use this time to put some of his last take away for safekeeping. He pulled the bag of cash from the job he did last night out from behind the couch and ventured to the back porch. He pulled the board away from the wall and exposed his hiding place, and then he put it back, picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He grabbed his keys and walked out the door.

  Now he knew the stupid whore left him, and she took his goddamned money.

  Chapter 7

  Roslyn gathered herself and began thinking rationally. She needed to find a phone so she could call someone. She found one in the study and called the authorities. She assured the lady on the phone she would stay right where she was at until the sheriff got there. It was a small quiet town, so it didn’t take long for the sheriff to arrive.

  She gave her statement to the sheriff along with her new name. She almost gave him her real name, but decided part of her new life was forgetting her real name, so she just left it at that.

  When he learned she had not made lodging accommodations he pointed her in the direction of the town bed and breakfast and asked her to stay there in case he had any further questions. He said he should have everything wrapped up soon and he left his card.

  The sheriff had noticed her tire when he pulled into the property and had a local come out and repair it for her so she could be on her way. He took note of the dealer tags in the window and thought he’d ask her some questions about where she came from when he wandered in to have a chat with her over breakfast, as was his plan.

  Chapter 8

  The house belonged to a Mr. Owen Faradei. He was old, alone, and no one even remembered he was there. He could have been dead up there for months if she hadn’t blown a tire right there next to his house.

  Sheriff Bert Rosenberg looked over the preliminary autopsy report and the statement Ms. Buchet had given him. She had seemed a bit apprehensive about talking to him. He had looked into her records and there were none, at all. No one alive or dead could get by with having no records what-so-ever. She didn’t seem like the sort that would be hiding from the law, or she wouldn’t have called when she found old man Faradei. Something wasn’t right about her and he figured on getting to the bottom of it.

  He had tracked down the vehicle to see if it was stolen, and when he contacted the dealership he learned a woman had come in and paid cash for it. They said she seemed like she was in a hurry and asked them if they could handle the paperwork. They admitted to cutting some corners, but cooperated fully with the sheriff about the vehicle she had brought in. He tracked down the origin of that one and got the same story, different name. After an entire afternoon on the phone he had lost her trail in New York. There were no records matching her description on any of the aliases she had given, so either she was a criminal on the run or a victim on the run. His money was on the latter since he couldn’t find any information on her in the law enforcement sphere.

  There was also the matter of Mr. Faradei’s will. When his death was announced his lawyer came to the station and read his will to the sheriff. Sheriff Rosenberg told him when and if he had a new development he would be contacted.

  Chapter 9

  Roslyn was antsy about talking to the sheriff but she couldn’t just leave the old man there all alone. The sheriff seemed like a man she could trust. She was a long way from the bad which had plagued her and she desperately wanted to make a home.

  She wasn’t a bit surprised when the sheriff came into the breakfast room at the bed and breakfast he had told her about. She expected he would show up sooner or later when he found out her name wouldn’t check out. She did not know what the people at the dealership did about her car, but the cash spoke volumes and they didn’t ask any questions; she knew the sheriff would.

  He pulled up a chair without being invited and eyed her suspiciously. She told him she was running from her ex boyfriend without his even having to ask. He was supportive, and professional and easy to talk to. She asked about the old man’s family and the sheriff told her he had none. She was heartbroken at the thought of the old man all alone in that enormous house year after year. She asked the sheriff how she could make arrangements to take care of his final expenses. Sheriff Rosenberg left her the number of the local funeral home where she could handle Mr. Faradei’s arrangements. He was surprised at the fact she wanted to pay expensive arrangements for a stranger, but she insisted she had the means and it felt right for her to take care of him because in a sense he had taken care of her.

  The way she saw it, the money wasn't actually hers, and if she could help somebody along the way, even if they were dead, she should. Besides, someone alive was going to be left with the bill and if it could be her then it
should be. She was surprised the sheriff didn’t ask about the money, but she didn’t volunteer any information about it.

  When Sheriff Rosenberg left she felt like she was finally going to be able to make a fresh start.

  The Sheriff pulled out his cell as he got into his car and fished around for the lawyer’s number. He sat there for a minute while he made the call.

  Chapter 10

  He watched her through the large bay window at the cheesy little bed and breakfast with that lawman. He thought she sure did move awful quick, laughing and smiling at him like he just roped the moon for her or something. The bitch had it coming now. She wouldn’t get away with making him look like a fool. Hell he might even toss her skirts one last time before he fed her to the worms. A little dry, but she was still a pretty good lay and he was itching for some snatch.

  He waited; he didn’t stay out of jail by making brash decisions and jumping in too quickly. He knew where she was now and he could put someone on her so he didn’t lose her again. He didn’t want to risk her seeing him and making a run for it again. Besides, he wanted her to get comfortable. He wanted her to think she was safe and sound. Her comfort would make for more fun sport when he came back to kill her.

  Chapter 11

  Roslyn received a visit from the old man’s lawyer, a Mr. Grant Winters, later the same day of her visit with the sheriff. When she had chatted with the sheriff first thing that morning, he didn’t mention anything about the will or the lawyer. She had wanted to put in an offer for the house she wanted so badly, but once she found out Mr. Faradei didn’t have any children or relatives of any sort she was afraid it would be tied up in legal tape for years.