Page 9 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

I rolled my eyes.

“We’re not doomed.”

Gerald snorted.

“You’ve looked in the rearview mirror seven times.”

“I was checking traffic.”

“There hasn’t been another car in ten minutes.”

“…Wildlife?”

Frank peered through the windshield.

“The only thing crossing this road is your dignity.”

“I still have dignity.”

“No,” Gerald said.

“You have delusion.”

“Rude.”

“I prefer honest.”

I drove past the stop sign. Gerald counted.

"...There."

"There what?"

"You smiled again."

"No, I didn't."

"Frank?"

Frank didn't even look up.

"She smiled."

"Traitor."

I sighed. You know… I glanced at the review mirror. This is why I don't tell them anything. They're impossible.

"We're observant," Gerald corrected.

"You're judgmental."

"Also, true."

I rested one hand on the steering wheel and let the other drum absent mindedly against the window. Oh, I know what you're thinking. Where's she going? What's in the suitcase? Didn’t I say books? Why is it pink? I like pink, get over it. But all valid questions. Unfortunately...

I'm not answering any of them. Every good story needs a little mystery. If I told you everything in the first chapter, we'd both be out of a job. Well... I'd be out of a job. You'd just have a very short book.

The headlights carved through the empty road. The town slowly disappeared in the rear-view mirror, replaced by stretches of quiet countryside and towering trees that looked suspiciously like they were gossiping. They probably weren't. Trees are terrible at keeping secrets. Gerald leaned against the dashboard.