TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "SURFACE" #shortstory #tuesdaytales #suspense

Welcome! We have another episode of "The Chase" this week. And the star is still that mysterious letter. Scroll down to go back to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for coming. 

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Tim stared at her. “What? Open it? Didn’t you just say something about stealing mail is a crime?”

“Yeah, yeah. But this is different. She’s moved out. She’ll never get this letter. We need to see if it’s important enough to forward.”

“Do you have a forwarding address?”

“No, but well. We don’t even know if we need one.”

“I’m sure it’s personal.”

“What if it’s some acquaintance she made on Fire Island, say, three years ago and he’s sending her a flyer for his new, his new,” she trained her gaze on the ceiling and bit her lip. “new dog walking service.”

“And if it is?”

“We chuck it. No worries.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Let’s take a look first.

Rennie ran her finger over the surface of the envelope. “Hmm. Dust.” She examined the front. “Postmark says it was posted in New York, like four days ago.”

“So it’s been sitting there? You’re sure she’s moved out? I have the keys, we could go in and check.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Before we steal her mail, we might check on her apartment. Just to be completely sure she’s gone.”

“Okay. Good idea.”

Rennie grabbed her keys and padded across the hall. Tim knocked and waited a few minutes before shoving a silver key into the deadbolt lock. He twisted it and opened the door.

“Ladies first.”

“Scared?” She narrowed her eyes at him before passing through. She stopped in the center of the small living room and cast her gaze around the room, turning to take in every bit. Dust had accumulated on the floor and plastic coffee table. A lone chair accompanied an empty bookcase, with dust-coated shelves.

A small, dirty area rug sat where she imagined a couch used to be. A floor lamp with a white pleated shade that had seen better days stood in one corner. Rennie approached it.

“She even took the bulb.”

“This is a dump. An empty dump.”

“I’d say she’d gone.”

They wandered into the bedroom. A chill shot up Rennie’s spine, making her shiver.

“Cold?”

She shook her head. “Gives me the creeps. Like something died in here.”

“She didn’t die, did she?”

“Not that I know.”

Tim slid the warped wooden closet door open, bringing a mess of empty wire hangers into view.

“Gone, I’d say.” He gestured around the room. “No bed.”

“That’s the clincher. No bed. No sofa. Gone.”

Back in her place, Rennie sat cross-legged on the floor by the fireplace. As she warmed her bones, she slapped the letter on her thigh a couple of times.

“So, we open it?” She raised her eyebrows and glanced at him.

“We open it.” Tim pulled out a pocketknife, slit the envelope, then handed it to her.

“From Bill Hilliard.” Rennie fanned herself with the letter. She slipped two fingers in and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “Here goes.”

Tim watched her eyes skim across the page. “Oh. Wow. Yeah. We needed to open this.”

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