The Killer

My phone was ringing off the hook.  Well, if cell phones had hooks.  I let them all go to voicemail.  I still didn't want to talk to anyone unless I had to.

Finally, the calls stopped so I listened to my messages.  I had several and they all said the same thing --  to watch the news.

So I turned on the local news.  What was so urgent I would never understand.

Across the bottom of the screen it said, "Suspected serial killer arrested."

And there was my old neighbor and my old house.  My old house?  I turned the sound up.

The newscaster was saying, "Police have yet to name the suspect but he owns these two properties behind me.  Police finally made an arrest after their investigation suggested several missing women throughout the state were last seen with the suspect. 

"After inspecting the home, investigators found the belongings of several women along with the remains of a number of individuals.  A large tub that police suspect was use to dissolve bodies in was also found.

"The chief of police will hold a press conference in about an hour."

I sat watching the newscast for sometime.  I heard the same news over and over again but didn't believe it.  So Hoss really had been a serial killer?  I wasn't just being paranoid; he really was.  And what was he using my old house for?  I shivered.

Sold

Good news, good news, good news.  My house sold.  Yes, someone besides me was willing to buy that piece of crap house.  All I had from my realtor was a voicemail.  I had to call her back.

"Hi, Em, what's up?"

"Oh, Fran," Emily said, "we got an offer for your house that's $5,000 above asking price.  I need to meet you to sign some papers.  Unless you don't want to accept it."

"Why wouldn't I want to accept it?  That's crazy."

"I'll say." 

We made plans to meet at a bookstore that's half way between my townhouse and her office.  I quickly read over the paperwork.  The new buyer of my house is named Hoss Klinefelter.  That was funny.  How many Hoss's can there be?

"My old neighbor was named Hoss."

"Oh, that's because it is your old neighbor.  He came and looked at the house maybe three times and then finally came back with this offer."

I scratched my head.  "Why would he pay that much for it when he just bought his house?"

"I don't know.  Maybe he finds the land valuable."

Hum.  I shook my head and then started to think about it.  I always found Hoss creepy.  I was, maybe still am, convinced he is a serial killer.  The thought that he was in my house, even if I don't live there anymore, looking all around and touching stuff gave me the creeps.  I just hoped he doesn't know where my family lives.

Rearview Window

I'm so glad I am moving.  And not just for the reasons I've been talking about either.  My creepy neighbor, Hoss, has made me loose sleep.  Something is going on next door, I'm telling you.

I was looking outside earlier, just looking outside, not looking for anything in particular when I saw it.  Hoss was dragging something across his backyard.  I don't know what it was, but I have seen people drag bags of leaves or yard debris.  I've seen gardeners working.  This was not like that.

Whatever it was he was dragging it from his garage to his shed.  I can't see his garage from my back window.  I just know where it is located.  I could somewhat see in the shed but the lighting was very dim.  It looked like he had a vat of something sitting in there.  No, not a vat, exactly, but a large barrel, like the bobbing for apples barrel only larger.

I was tempted to call the cops, but wasn't sure they would do anything.  If nothing is there, then Hoss will know I was the nosy neighbor who snitched on him.  I'll just be happy when I'm out of here.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

The house next to me has been vacant forever.  It was vacant when I moved in to my house and since that time it has fallen into disrepair. 

It was really starting to look shabby.  Gutters were falling down; parts of the siding had been stolen.  There were even rumors the copper pipes in the basement had been stolen, too, but I never heard any police reports to that effect.  The house just plain looks like crap.  I had been hoping the village would tear it down.  That way there would be less neighbors to contend with.

Not long ago I started to see people going over to the house.  I had no idea why they were there but they made me nervous.

Today I found out.  I have a new neighbor.  The house sold.  I saw him tinkering outside so after work I went over there to introduce myself.  He said his name was Hoss.

I tried to make idol conversation but Hoss just seemed weird to me.  He explained how he loved the rundown appearance of the house. 

"It just fits me.  I couldn't live in a house that's manicured and nice."

"Oh, really?  Why is that?"

I started to take a step forward.  Hoss held up his hand and said, "Watch your step there.  I just might bite."

I thought he was kidding and started to move closer to him.  He snapped his jaws at me then started to laugh.

"My aren't you pretty.  Looks like you spend too much time in the shower, though, for my liking?"

I spend too much time in the shower?  That's the first time I've heard that one.  I could see into his garage and he had, well, a lot of axes and sharp things.  And there was a lot of rope and trashbags.

"Well, Hoss," I said backing up slowly, "I need to get going.  I'll see you again sometime."

"It was sure nice meeting you."

"Sure, anytime," I said through a forced smile.

For whatever reason I continued to walk backward.  I couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen in his garage.  My new neighbor is a serial killer!

I tripped and fell to my back, my skirt flying up in the air.  Oh, no, I had just let the serial killer see my underpants.  What if he wanted to bite that, too?  I picked myself up as fast as I could and ran.