Page 17 of Tinsel Time Treasure
“The emergency exit you mean. It’s not as if there’s traffic through there.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
I took a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then blew it out again. “Let me think about it?”
He nodded. “I can do that. And she did agree to switch for now, if that’s something you want to do.”
“I don’t want to,” I stated. “But I also understand what you’re saying.”
“I get it. Your room is your room.”
“Exactly.”
“Just let me know, ok?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded in the way he did when finishing a conversation, and I started down the hall to prepare for my first appointment of the day.
“Oh, and Justin?”
I turned back to face him. “Yeah?”
“Let me know if you just need a day off, yeah? You look tired.”
“I am tired, but I’ll be ok.”
“If you say so.”
I rolled my shoulders as I again headed towards my massage room. I had a long day ahead of me and I couldn’t let the stiffness in my body get in my way.
∞∞∞
I pulled into the apartment parking lot with a relieved sigh.
It had been three days since the incident at the grocery store, when Frederick had seemed to pop up every other aisle or so. And while he didn’t try to talk to me, he’d made his presence clear.
Since then, however, I hadn’t seen him. It felt like my luck was finally starting to turn.
I parked, then froze.
The lights in my living room were on.
There was no way the lights should have been on. It had been bright enough when I left that I hadn’t needed them, and they had definitely been off before bed.
I backed out of my spot and quickly drove around the building opposite mine, pulling into a spot without a direct line of sight, and hoping that I hadn’t been seen. Then I grabbed my phone and dialed the after-hours number for the complex management.
“Serenity Heights Apartments,” the receptionist answered.
“Hello, this is Justin Sellers from apartment b-seven. Did a supervisor or maintenance technician have to go into my apartment unannounced today?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied.
“Can you please check?” I asked, trying not to let fear creep into my voice. “I have reason to believe that somebody besides me has been in my apartment today, and I don’t want to call the police without making sure that it wasn’t something from the management side.”
“Of course,” she stated, clearly on alert since I’d stated the problem. “Let me check the records.”
I heard typing, and a few frustrated noises, then, “I’m sorry, but I don’t see that anybody from staff had reason to enter your apartment today.”
