15 Signs Of Murder (Fifteen thrillers)

by Luis Samways

  Andy just smiles. He can’t believe his luck. He knows the property is of some value. Hell, $410,000 is a lot of value. But he didn’t expect to receive an offer in less than twenty-four hours. “How much?” he says unapologetically. Andy has never been one to shy away from such important questions. He’d rather just get down to the nitty-gritty of it.

  The real-estate agent’s facial expression deepens. “That’s the thing,” he says, unnervingly. “The offer is a tad lower than what we wanted,” he continues.

  “And?” asks Andy impatiently.

  “$300,000,” says the agent.

  Andy’s heart drops. “$300,000? You said the house was worth $400,000. You even said we could get 410 for it! What the fuck happened to that estimation?”

  The real-estate agent shifts his weight once more. Now Andy knows why he is so fidgety. It must be because he is nervous. “We can’t control how much people are willing to put down for a house. We need to see what other offers are going to come our way. I wouldn’t worry about it. Just make the house look nice and re-take some pictures. It will bring in more serious offers.”

  The agent gets up and grabs the files.

  Andy just looks on in disbelief. “$300,000?” he says in utter shock.

  “As I said, Andy, spruce the place up a bit. It looks old and unused. We know what it’s worth, but unfortunately we need to make it look like it’s worth the amount we had in mind.”

  “But that means spending more money,” says Andy, his voice showing signs of cracking.

  “You need to spend money to make it. I’ll see myself out.”

  The real-estate agent leaves the kitchen and makes his way out of the house. Andy can hear him leave through the front door. Andy collapses into his clasped hands. He shakes his head in a depressive stroke and sighs into the empty kitchen air.

  Ten

  “Are you sure?” Melisa bellows in shock as Andy takes a shot of whiskey.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. He said we need to make the place look good or we won’t attract the offers we are after.”

  Melisa shakes her head. “That’s horseshit. He’s trying to milk us. I bet he’ll want a higher percentage for the ‘wisdom’ he bestowed upon us,” she says.

  “It’s fixed. Everything is fixed to a contract. He won’t get shit if we don’t sell the house. All he wants is the best price. It’s in his interest to get the house sold for as much as possible, or he won’t make as much money.”

  “You could have fooled me. Because the way I look at it, we are having to spend even more money just to get what he said was the actual value of the property. It’s a little fishy to me,” she says.

  Andy shakes his head. “Look, once we get the place looking like a palace, I can assure you we will be able to move it. It will be a piece of cake. Just look at the property. It’s a dream place to raise kids. You got a fuck-ton of land for the kids, not to mention room for expanding the place. We will get the best price on this house. All we need to do is get the right people in.”

  “You have any ideas?” she asks.

  “I’m already well ahead of you, my dear. I have Dayton and the boys coming down to fix the place up. He said he’d do the place for half the price, just because we go way back.”

  Melisa takes a cigarette out of her packet of Marlboros and places the pack onto the coffee table. She lights up.

  “I thought you didn’t want anyone smoking in here,” says Andy.

  “Fuck it,” Melisa says playfully.

  “Dayton is good people. We’ll get a good deal on the work.”

  Melisa smiles while blowing smoke rings. “And what exactly is ‘Dayton’ going to do to the place?”

  Andy grins. His teeth shine in the dim Michigan dusk. “Oh, baby, Dayton does everything! The man is a legend with a hammer. He can make a birdhouse in a backyard look like a palace. The guy would give Jesus Christ himself a run for his money when it comes to carpentry,” Andy says overenthusiastically.

  Melisa just nods, hoping that her husband isn’t being too optimistic. She knows the place needs work. She isn’t ignorant when it comes to the truth. She knows that the house is falling apart. It has that lived-in feel, but the problem is that too many people have lived in it. Generations have loved and lost behind these walls. She knows for a fact that Dayton had better be everything that Andy says he is and more. The place needs a miracle worker, that’s for sure. ‘We’ll see,’ she says plainly.

  Andy nods. “We will!”

  Eleven

  Andy wakes up in a cold sweat. He’s been out for the night. The mid-morning sun beams through the crack in the drapes. He looks around nervously. He sees that the spot in which Melisa usually sleeps is empty. He immediately shoots up into a sitting position. “Melisa?” he says loudly. He turns his head left and right. The motion blur in the room is surreal. He can feel the panic in his throat. Words don’t quite come out. “Melisa!” he screams. Then he feels the tingling in his throat. It’s as if spikes have been embedded in his windpipe. He tries to scream again. This time nothing comes out. Just the sound of him choking is present. He collapses onto his back. His head hits the pillow. He can see the ceiling fan above his head rotating. Its speed slows down significantly. It looks as if it’s going at a much slower rate than usual. His heartbeat slows down. The sweat on his forehead increases. His breathing becomes shallow. He can feel the tingling in his throat rise up. Finally he succumbs to the overwhelming desire to shut down. Seconds later, he stops struggling. Seconds after that, he stops breathing. A short while later he lies on his back, motionless.

  His wife comes through the bedroom door, holding a tray. She sees Andy lying there, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his chest not moving. “Andy?” she says, with a slight tinge of fear in her voice. He doesn’t move. She drops the tray in shock as a dozen spiders crawl out of Andy’s open mouth. She screams.

  “Melisa! Melisa!” She opens her eyes. She sees Andy standing over her, holding a freshly picked rose.

  “Morning! You looked like you were having a bad dream,” he says.

  Melisa sits up. She rubs her face, trying to force the morning into her eyes. “I’m fine,” she says.

  Andy lays the rose on her bedside table. “Good. Dayton is here, by the way. They’ve already started work on the outbuildings. They’re painting them green. I thought it was a good idea. It really brings out the freshness of the country. It’s going to fit in well with those new pictures. I can’t wait,” says Andy, nearly losing his breath with excitement.

  Melisa just sits there, dumbfounded. “Shhh, I just woke up,” she says, nearly snapping at her loving husband.

  Andy looks confused. He stands there for a few more seconds and then decides to leave. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” he says, walking out of the room.

  Melisa sits for a few seconds. “I love you,” she says, to no reply. Andy must have already gone downstairs. She looks at the rose and smiles. She picks it up. For a second she indulges in its beauty. Then she sees the little money spider on its stem. She nearly throws the rose in fright as she jolts out of bed. She then composes herself. “It’s only a baby spider,” she says to herself, feeling rather silly. “Goddamn house,” she adds as she gets up out of bed and stretches out wide.

  Twelve

  “It’s a nice green,” says Andy as he surveys the finished paintjob on his two outbuildings. The small workforce has gathered to bask in their work. A few of the beefy shirtless men look at each other in accomplishment as they crack open a few beers to celebrate.

  “Not bad for one hour’s work. Fifty-seven panels in each outbuilding, and we got it done fast,” says one of the workmen, obviously trying to fish for more compliments.

  “Well done, guys. What’s next, then?” asks Andy as he continues to be bedazzled by the glossy paintwork on his two barn conversions. He thinks to himself that if the inside was done up to the extent that the outside was, then he wouldn’t mind turning it into a pool house. He decides to run
the idea by the group.

  “We are just waiting for Dayton to come back from the lumberyard. He seems to think that adding some outside skirting to the buildings will give it a strong, modern look.”

  “I agree,” says Andy, admiring the lengths that the workforce will go to make sure the house and its surroundings look good. “I was thinking of turning the two outbuildings into pool houses,” says Andy.

  The look of excitement on the contractor’s faces is palpable. “Great idea, Andy. Dayton said he was thinking the same thing. Two pool houses could add anywhere between $50,000 and $75,000 in value to a house. Well, these two would, anyway, considering how spacious they are,” says one of the topless workers.

  “How much do you think it would cost to make both outbuildings into pool houses?”

  The men look at each other in uncertainty. After a few seconds of brief thought, the more talkative member of the crew speaks. “That’s something Dayton will know. You should ask him when he comes back from the yard.”

  “Will do,” says Andy, his mind racing with possibilities as he stares at what is likely going to be his next “pet project”.

  Thirteen

  “$75,000?” Melisa says in disbelief.

  Andy nods. “Yeah, it’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  “No, Andy, it’s not. We don’t have the money to be doing up the outbuildings and making them into pool houses. This isn’t Cribs, and we aren’t fucking celebrities. You need to wake up and smell some reality. We can’t be pissing money down the drain!”

  Andy goes red with frustration. “‘WE’? Last time I checked, my mom left ME this house. Also, I’M paying for the renovations, not you. Now I need you to get the fuck off my back and let me make this house sellable.”

  Melisa nearly bursts into tears. They’re not tears of sadness she is holding back, they’re tears of anger. “Do whatever you want, Andy. Flush all your inheritance down the toilet, for all I care. I mean, who needs babies and houses when we have a house we can’t sell, and two pool houses? Who needs security and a future? Who needs any of that when you are willing to throw money at a dead horse?”

  Andy gets up from his seated position on the sofa. He cracks his knuckles for emphasis. “This house isn’t a dead horse. This house was my mom’s pride and joy, and I’m not having it put on the backburner for anything. I’m going to sell this thing and I’m going to make a shitload of money for us so we can have all those things you just mentioned. We surely won’t have any of that if we settle for less,” he says.

  Melisa lets a few tears run down her face. “What’s wrong with $300,000? Surely we can live with that?” she says.

  “Everything is wrong with $300,000! It’s pennies compared to what this house is worth. Not just in sentimental value, but in real estate. You heard what the real-estate agent said. We aren’t settling for anything less!”

  Andy walks out of the living room and slams a few doors in the house for good measure. Melisa remains on the sofa, this time letting out a flood of tears.

  Fourteen

  Andy has been sulking in the garage for an hour or so. He can’t bear to think about the house anymore. He just misses the time in which he and Melisa were on the same page. He doesn’t want to fall out with his wife over such a benign thing as selling a house, even if the house is the key to their future. He sits there, shoulders slumped inward for a few minutes. He can hear the hustle and bustle of the countryside from where he is sitting. He can also hear the sound of workers working on his property. Some men are chatting idly near the garage, commenting on the state of the house. He hears a conversation between two voices he doesn’t recognize as he notices the light shifting in the room as a shadow squeezes through the crack of the garage door.

  “Smoke?” the voice says. Some footsteps accompany the sound as they stop just outside the door.

  “Sure,” says the other voice. The sound of a lighter sparking up follows.

  Andy moves in closer to the garage door, being careful not to knock anything down on the short journey.

  “Big house,” says the voice.

  “Sure is,” agrees the other. A long moment of silence follows. All Andy can hear is the faint sound of a cigarette being inhaled.

  “You reckon the guy, what’s his name?...Andy, that’s it. You reckon he’s going to go for the pool house conversion?”

  “Maybe. The guy’s a sap, but Dayton said he’s good people.”

  “Dayton is soft in the head. Just because he’s good people doesn’t mean we can’t make some money while we are at it,” says the voice from behind the garage, sounding a little formidable in his tone.

  “True,” agrees the other voice.

  Andy just sits there for a while. What follows is idle chit-chat regarding sports. Then the sound of an approaching pickup truck disrupts the conversation as both men scamper back to their duties. Andy assumes the boss, Dayton, is back. Andy remains there for a while, mulling over what he just overheard. Could the two men be right? Is Andy just a sap? He didn’t think so. In fact, he’s fixing to make a point out of it. Just as soon as the time is right.

  “Sap, my ass,” he says, shaking his head in anger. “I’ll show all of them. Trying to rip me off.”

  Fifteen

  “What’s wrong with you?” asks Melisa as she notices her husband’s moist eyes. “Have you been crying?” she asks.

  Andy just shakes his head. He can hardly stand to look at her. In his head, he knows she is always right. That’s what’s good about her. And he knows that he let her down, trying to act like a man and stand up for his beliefs. But he knows she was right, and now he feels like a fool. He just looks down at the hardwood kitchen floor and blushes a little.

  “Andy?” his wife asks, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “You were right. We don’t need any of this. We don’t need to do the house up, and we certainly don’t need to be wasting money on improvements that could leave us out of pocket.”

  Melisa smiles. “Look, honey, we may not need it, but if it makes the house more appealing, than I don’t see why we don’t go for it.”

  That’s typical Melisa. She always supports her husband in the end. Even if it means admitting she’s wrong, even when she isn’t. That’s what Andy loves about her. She’s always there for him, through thick and thin, stupid and foolish. Whichever one of those he is, she stands by him, always.

  “I love you. You know that, right?” he asks, returning a gentle hand to her firm waist.

  “Of course I do. It’s written all over your face, day in, day out. Baby, we will get through this. Mark my words!”

  At that moment, they both kiss. Following the kiss, a commotion breaks out in the garden. Andy snaps his lips away from Melisa and tilts his head to the window, trying to see what is going on. He can’t see anything through the net curtains on the window.

  “What the hell is all the shouting about?” he says aloud to himself. Melisa is thinking the same thing. They both decide to go outside and investigate. They walk through the house rapidly and jar open the front door. The sun cascades into their eyes as they try to pinpoint the direction the noise is coming from.

  Melisa cups her hands over her eyes, as if she’s sightseeing in the bright light. She sees the workmen gathered around in a circle near the pickup truck a few yards away. She points. “Over there,” she says.

  Both Melisa and Andy race over to see what all the fuss is about. A few of the workmen are pacing nervously. A few others are looking on with an expression of shock on their faces. All of them are staring down at something on the floor. All of them are surrounding it like a circle of school children mystified and puzzled by something on the playground. Melisa pushes through the huddle of humanity. She gasps.

  “Andy! Dayton is unconscious!” she screams.

  Andy makes his way through the onlooking workers. He sees Dayton lying face down in the dusty dirt. He immediately turns Dayton over and onto his back. Andy catches the glimpse of a metalli
c sheen around one of Dayton’s wrists. A pair of handcuffs hangs off his left wrist, one end clasped tightly to his arm, the other bent and distorted, as if they had been ripped off something. The unconscious man coughs up a little mucus but remains still.

  Andy doesn’t know what to do. All he can think of is saving his friend. “Call an ambulance! Quickly!” says Andy as he barks at the workmen surrounding his downed friend.

  Sixteen

  Andy and Melisa have been at the hospital for three hours. They’ve been waiting for news, news that can’t come quickly enough. News that means a great deal to Andy. Both of them keep darting their heads from the floor to the door every time it swings open. And every time it does, it’s someone of little importance.

  “He’ll be okay,” says Melisa as she cuddles Andy’s arm in the waiting room. The aircon buzzes above her head. A few flies zap into the electric zapper as she looks around the hot and muggy seating area. It’s literally empty. They are the only people there. The workforce that was working on their house decided to go out for a drink. Melisa remembers thinking that maybe some people find it hard to stay in hospitals. Still, leaving your boss alone in critical condition is pretty gutless, even if she may say so herself. “He’ll be okay,” she says once again, just in case her husband didn’t hear.

  “Maybe,” he says.

  Melisa feels helpless as she watches her husband deal with the trauma of seeing his friend get airlifted to the hospital. Medics on the phone said that his symptoms could be cardiovascular and insisted on calling in the helicopter for the job. It was all a little too much for Andy. He had put it in his head that his best friend was just exhausted or had sun stroke. He didn’t dare to think it was anything as serious as a heart attack.

  The paramedics paddled his chest when the helicopter arrived. It was then Andy realized his friend had died in his dirty yard. It was then Andy realized that if he hadn’t hired his long-term friend to fix up his house, then maybe he wouldn’t have keeled over trying to make the place stand out.