out the day.
She could smell the night. She could smell the earth beneath her. She could hear nothing unusual outside, which for the moment put her mind at rest. And then, probably through sheer exhaustion, she started to drift off to sleep.
Tried to drift off to sleep.
Each time she thought she was close to the abyss, her mind spun out and her thoughts went to Patty. Without question, she knew she had called her today to catch up on last night, especially since she drove off with some random man, something Patty was accused of doing often, but which Cheryl knew she almost never did. She was, in fact, surprised that she did it. It wasn’t like her.
She wondered how long Patty would wait before she decided it was odd that Cheryl wasn’t answering her phone and that she should drive over to see if she was all right? She wouldn’t have done it today. Too soon. But tomorrow? There was a good chance of that happening since tomorrow was Sunday and they usually got together for brunch at The Lucerne Inn, a gorgeous inn turned into a hotel that overlooked stunning mountains and a beautiful lake.
When Patty knocked and there was no answer, what would she do? Leave? Maybe. But if the Colemans were about, she might ask them if they’d seen or heard her, which they would have if she’d been home. Theirs was an old house, but as solid as it was, the floors still creaked. Would they question it if they hadn’t heard her in two days? She thought they would. And then what? How long would they wait before they decided the right thing to do was to enter her apartment out of concern?
Cheryl didn’t know. What she did know is that James Coleman wouldn’t wait long. She’d been a tenant of his for years. He was aware of her routine comings and goings, which rarely changed because Cheryl’s life was admittedly dull. Also, during those rare times that she did take a vacation, she always told the Colemans, who in turn asked if she’d like them to look after her cat, Blanche, while she was gone. They had a good relationship. She figured that if James hadn’t heard from her or seen her by Monday, he’d enter her apartment.
But please do it sooner, she thought. Please do it now.
Her shelter was starting to warm a bit due to her body heat. She tucked closer into a fetal position and tried again for sleep, but it wouldn’t come. Her mind was too active. In the quiet of night, she listened to the silence, which unnerved her because it reinforced how utterly alone she was. And how frightened she was. And how vulnerable.
She thought of her cat and realized that she also had gone a day without food and water. Blanche was an older cat, nearly seventeen, and when she didn’t get her way, she’d let the world know with a series of caterwauls that could lift a roof they were so loud. Would the Colemans hear her? They would. But would they question it? That’s what she needed to rely on. She prayed that they questioned it.
She was thinking about all of this when, after about a half hour, somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard movement. Five minutes passed and she was certain she heard something coming toward her.
She held her breath and listened.
Was it him? An animal? She didn’t know. Her heart beat faster. It still was too far off, though it sounded like the kicking up of leaves. Some sort of rustling. She took a shallow breath and hoped to God that it wasn’t him. Or that it wasn’t a bear because a bear was a possibility. Black bears were nocturnal and, if threatened, they could become aggressive. In case it was either, she reached for the sharp branch next to her and held it close. The end of it was pointed. If she had the chance, she’d stab him or the animal in the face, and then she’d have to leave the shelter and run in her damned boots in the dark. That would just leave her in more danger because she wouldn’t be able to see and because she’d be exposed to the elements.
The sound was growing closer. She couldn’t tell if it was human or animal. But if it was human, if it was him, wouldn’t he have a flashlight so he could see? She peered through the