Shutting the door, Avery began walking toward the entrance. Like the kind driver, she hoped whoever had called for help was okay. Mostly keeping to herself, she didn’t really know many of the people in the building. Only two, really.
Stephen, a guy around her age, and Ms. Wilson. In her eighties,shewas a tried-and-true crazy cat lady.
They both lived on her floor, but each in a different hallway than hers. And since the building was enormous—it was an old paper factory that had been converted into apartments—Avery only saw Stephen and Joan occasionally, as they came and went.
The other tenants she encountered throughout her days pretty much kept to themselves, which was perfectly fine with her. In fact, Stephen and Ms. Wilson were the only ones who’d ever gone out of their way to speak to her.
Holding her key fob up to the electronic pad, Avery waited for the green light before reaching for one of the glass double doors. As she made her way into the entrance and over to her assigned mailbox, she was surprised to find it quiet.
No emergency personnel or out-of-the-ordinary activity. Just her and her junk mail. But then…
“Avery!”
Closing the small metal door to her mailbox, she turned to see Stephen exiting the elevator and walking toward her. In his late twenties, the guy was tall, somewhat fit, and had dark brown hair and eyes.
He’d asked her out once, right after she’d first moved in. But even if he didn’t give off the whole player vibe—which he totally did—Avery had never pictured the two of them dating.
Like Ronald, Stephen wasn’tunattractive. Just not the breath-stealingwowshe hoped to someday find.
“Hey, Stephen.” She greeted him with a polite smile.
“Did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Joan’s dead.”
Avery sucked in a shocked breath.“What?”
“I know.” The man’s dark brows rose as he blinked. “Crazy, right?”
That explained the police and other first responders.
“Yeah. Apparently, she’s been dead a while,” Stephen filled her in. “The people in the apartment across the hall from her noticed a rancid smell and called maintenance. That’s who found her.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s awful.” Avery frowned. She didn’t know Ms. Wilson—Joan—well, and while the woman was a bit on the quirky side, she’d always been kind to Avery. “What happened?”
“So, get this. I overheard two of the cops who are up there talking in the hall. They’re assuming it was natural causes, but that’s not all. Since she’d been gone a while, her cats ran out of food.”
“Nooo…” Avery shook her head, praying he wasn’t about to tell her what she was already imagining to be true.
“Yep.” Stephen nodded. “They ate her face clean off.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, god.”
“I know.” He pretended to gag. “Disgusting, right? But I mean, you can’t really blame ’em. With no one around to feed them, they did what any animal would do and found their own food.”
Avery closed her eyes, the alcohol present in her stomach churning.Poor Joan.
A loud ding signaled the opening of the elevator doors. On reflex, she opened her eyes to find two paramedics pushing a gurney into the lobby.
Though the form beneath the white sheet was hidden—thank God—Avery was fully aware of the horror it covered.
Both nauseated and sad, she waited for Joan’s remains to exit the building before bidding Stephen a quiet ‘goodnight’ and heading for the stairs. Her apartment was on the fourth floor, but she occasionally chose to walk up, rather than taking the elevator.
When she did, it was for exercise. Tonight, it was to avoid being in the same place where her dead neighbor had just been.
She opened the door to her floor; her shocked and scattered mind having forgotten it was located just a few feet from Joan’s apartment. Avery caught a very distinct whiff of what she could only describe as death.