Araminta was called a witch. Now she's gone. And the last person who saw her is making a podcast about her disappearance.
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Only Murders in The Building x Wednesday
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Two years ago, Araminta Green disappeared. She was last seen walking through a...
But that was a later problem. Right now, he was in the middle of another conundrum. One that had only one solution and that was to run toward the door.
So Jordan ran. He ran through the darkness toward the open patio door, feeling brisk air filling his lungs. He'd executed the last step, but he wasn't in the clear yet. Because right as he passed the threshold, he heard a click from the garage entrance, followed by rapid voices and bright beams from flashlights. The police had somehow made their way inside, perhaps by using an emergency code on the keypad.
But they hadn't noticed Jordan yet. Getting low, Jordan slid off the deck and into the bushes beside it, hoping the night would assist in covering his tracks. His parents's yard was only a few feet away, as only a narrow path divided the other wall of the house from the fence. There was only one problem: The fence was about six feet high and Jordan was in no condition to beat any personal high jumping records at the moment. But maybe there was another way...
Army-crawling on his hands and feet, hoping that no beams from flashlights would find his pathetic form, Jordan made his way toward the fence. In the darkness, all the boards looked the same. Desperately, Jordan tested every single one, going down the line toward the woods. He could hear voices from inside now, coming closer and closer.
Right in the knick of time, a board budged, swinging inward as he pushed on it. It was through this hole that he'd lured Kiki over on the night after Araminta disappeared, tempting her with some delicious canned tuna. The opening wasn't big but luckily, Jordan wasn't either. His well-meaning grandma was always on him about eating more, offering him an endless supply of cookies, candy, and cake, but right now, he was kind of glad he hadn't taken her advice. Because when turning on his side, he could just about fit his torso between the boards, squeezing through to the other side, where safety lay.
Halfway there, Jordan's hips got caught. He kicked back in the dirt behind him, trying to leverage himself. This had to work. It had to. Grabbing onto the grass in front of him, Jordan pulled himself forward, despite rough wood digging into his skin. Suddenly, there was a loud crack in the fence as the boards gave away, making him roll forward onto the lawn.
But he couldn't stay there. Voices were on the other side. The police were on the patio already. Hopefully, they hadn't seen his ungraceful escape through the fence. Keeping his profile low, Jordan scurried across the yard and onto the deck, practically diving through the door, which luckily was unlocked.
He made it home, to safety. Laying on the entry mat, Jordan could finally relax a little. However, he soon realized that was a mistake as pain from everywhere hit him at once. He gasped from the onslaught, unable to move an inch further. If the police was still after him, well, then he would be unable to resist apprehension.
That's when someone cleared their throat above him, bringing ice to his veins.
Jordan opened his eyes to peer at Kiki who sat at his feet, having somehow teleported out of the Araminta's house and into theirs because Jordan had not seen her during his escape. But Kiki's judgemental glare was not what scared him, because above the cat stood both Jordan's parents, looking at him with despair.
"Was that you in the neighbor's house?" His dad asked. "We thought we saw lights in there so we called the police to take a look."
"I... uh... no," Jordan tried, before realizing that denying the accusations was probably fruitless. "I can explain," he said instead, although he didn't know quite how yet.
"You better have a darn good explanation," his mom countered with ice in her voice. "We were worried about you not being home but then it turns out you were out committing crimes. Breaking into the neighbor's house, haven't they been through enough without you meddling!"
Jordan had no answers, he only had regrets. Perhaps noticing his dark mood, Kiki gave his throbbing wrist an affectionate lick. The small gesture of care brought a tear to his eye, or perhaps that was from the pain.
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Author's Note: For those of you who didn't see my announcement about it: I will not submit this story for round 3 of ONC and instead continue writing it past 40k (to hopefully enter into Wattys eventually). I may have been able to finish a first version within 40k, by saving some reveals for a later extended version, but I got sick last week and it just didn't seem worth it to push myself to write through that, especially when I knew that wouldn't lead to the best version of the story. So this story will still be finished as soon as possible (hopefully during Mary) but I'm giving myself a bit more time and words to get there.
