~Author's Note~ Okay, I had no idea you'd all actually want me to hurry up
and add another chapter. I'm flattered, really. Thanks for the support and
sorry for the delay.
Chapter Two
"Shit."
The woman bent down to pick up the pile of folders the wind had blown out of her arms. As she leaned over a gust of wind blew again and lifted the back of her skirt a few inches, a older couple walked by and she stood up and flattened the skirt against her again, an embarrassed look on her face. She waited for the couple to pass before she gathered the papers together again.
With her folders organized again she trotted off down the street, holding the papers tighter this time. After a few minutes she stopped in front of a comfortable worn-looking old blue house on a corner. She straightened her skirt, walked over and knocked lightly on the door.
There was silence and out of nowhere a friendly-looking face opened the door and smiled politely at her, the face was as worn-looking as the house, but soft like a grandmother's. The woman couldn't help but smile back. It all was very cozy to her.
"Hello, Miss, who would you be?"
She smiled wider at the woman's old-fashioned politeness. "Sorry for bothering you, I'm Sarah Weiss. I'm a reporter for a local newspaper, and I was wondering if I could talk to you?" she tried to sound as polite as the woman, but in her own mind, failed miserably. The old had their tricks, and some of them were good ones.
"Of course," the old lady held her hand out, a wrinkled-rough looking hand. But when Sarah shook it, it was as soft, as the old folks say, as a baby's bottom. "I'm Linda Ryder, but I'm sure you already know that if you came to see me." She laughed quietly, and led Sarah inside the nice blue house at the end of the street.
They both sat down in the living room, taking seats on couches facing each other with a coffee table in the middle. Mrs. Ryder excused herself to fix them both some tea. Sarah would've preferred something with a little more caffeine in it, but she didn't want to spoil the old-fashioned affect the whole thing was having on her.
After a few minutes Mrs. Ryder came back in with a small tray of tea and crackers. Good tea. Good crackers. None of the cheap stuff at all. Sarah grinned and helped herself to a cup.
"Now, Ms. Weiss-"
"Sarah, please." She smiled politely.
Mrs. Ryder smiled back. "Sarah. What exactly can I help you with?"
Sarah put down the cup of tea and put on her business face. "Well, I'm doing a report on some local, um, deaths, and I was told you were related to one of the.. Unfortunate?"
The friendly look immediately left the old woman's face and was replaced by a deep saddening look that near melted Sarah's heart. "Oh yes, I'm afraid, it was my granddaughter, Amanda." She swallowed a sip of tea and nibbled softly on a cracker. The sad look was still very clear on her features.
Sarah felt a wave of guilt for reminding the sweet old lady about her grandchild's death. She apologized on instinct. "I'm very sorry for barging in on you about the subject.. but, it's very important if I'm to help find the source of the .illness." She was very careful about saying 'I'm' instead of 'We're', it's not like anyone else at the office was backing her up.
Mrs. Ryder nodded slowly. "I understand, and I don't mean to be so dreary, dear."
"Oh no, it's very understandable and I apologize again for bringing this up."
"It's okay, Miss, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I'd prefer sooner, I wouldn't want anything else happening to anyone." She sighed. "What would you like to know about her?"
She pulled a small notebook out of her coat pocket, and clicked a pen on top of it. "Is it okay if I quote you?"
Mrs. Ryder nodded again.
"Okay, could you please give me some information on the deceased? As of, what was she doing the night she died?"
"She was over here, I was watching her, her parents were on vacation for the week and we were just downstairs watching television."
She scribbled something down on her notepad and looked up. "Then what happened?"
"I got up to check on dinner, and when I came back.she." Mrs. Ryder paused and her eyes got wide, remembering the night with silent clarity. Re-living the moment, so to speak.
Sarah gave her a moment. "Excuse me?"
"She was lying. down on the couch. I could only see her feet from where I was standing in the hallway coming back from the kitchen. But when I called her name she didn't answer. so I got closer."
Sarah nodded.
"Her head was tilted towards the ceiling, and her face." she broke down crying all of a sudden. Sarah didn't know what to do. She was never good around people who were crying. She didn't know whether to hug her or put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.
She stopped crying after a few minutes, though.
"May I ask you one more question before I leave, Mrs. Ryder?"
She nodded. "Of course." She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her eyes with it.
"Where can I reach her parents?"
The lady's eyes got wide. "I'm afraid you can't."
She crinkled her face up in confusion. "Why not?"
"Oh dear, they died the same night my granddaughter did."
She stared at the old woman in shock. "What?"
"They died the same night Amanda did."
Sarah breathed in. "When was that?"
"Three days ago, dear, seven days after they left on vacation."
Sarah gathered up her stuff, thanked the woman, and left.
Chapter Two
"Shit."
The woman bent down to pick up the pile of folders the wind had blown out of her arms. As she leaned over a gust of wind blew again and lifted the back of her skirt a few inches, a older couple walked by and she stood up and flattened the skirt against her again, an embarrassed look on her face. She waited for the couple to pass before she gathered the papers together again.
With her folders organized again she trotted off down the street, holding the papers tighter this time. After a few minutes she stopped in front of a comfortable worn-looking old blue house on a corner. She straightened her skirt, walked over and knocked lightly on the door.
There was silence and out of nowhere a friendly-looking face opened the door and smiled politely at her, the face was as worn-looking as the house, but soft like a grandmother's. The woman couldn't help but smile back. It all was very cozy to her.
"Hello, Miss, who would you be?"
She smiled wider at the woman's old-fashioned politeness. "Sorry for bothering you, I'm Sarah Weiss. I'm a reporter for a local newspaper, and I was wondering if I could talk to you?" she tried to sound as polite as the woman, but in her own mind, failed miserably. The old had their tricks, and some of them were good ones.
"Of course," the old lady held her hand out, a wrinkled-rough looking hand. But when Sarah shook it, it was as soft, as the old folks say, as a baby's bottom. "I'm Linda Ryder, but I'm sure you already know that if you came to see me." She laughed quietly, and led Sarah inside the nice blue house at the end of the street.
They both sat down in the living room, taking seats on couches facing each other with a coffee table in the middle. Mrs. Ryder excused herself to fix them both some tea. Sarah would've preferred something with a little more caffeine in it, but she didn't want to spoil the old-fashioned affect the whole thing was having on her.
After a few minutes Mrs. Ryder came back in with a small tray of tea and crackers. Good tea. Good crackers. None of the cheap stuff at all. Sarah grinned and helped herself to a cup.
"Now, Ms. Weiss-"
"Sarah, please." She smiled politely.
Mrs. Ryder smiled back. "Sarah. What exactly can I help you with?"
Sarah put down the cup of tea and put on her business face. "Well, I'm doing a report on some local, um, deaths, and I was told you were related to one of the.. Unfortunate?"
The friendly look immediately left the old woman's face and was replaced by a deep saddening look that near melted Sarah's heart. "Oh yes, I'm afraid, it was my granddaughter, Amanda." She swallowed a sip of tea and nibbled softly on a cracker. The sad look was still very clear on her features.
Sarah felt a wave of guilt for reminding the sweet old lady about her grandchild's death. She apologized on instinct. "I'm very sorry for barging in on you about the subject.. but, it's very important if I'm to help find the source of the .illness." She was very careful about saying 'I'm' instead of 'We're', it's not like anyone else at the office was backing her up.
Mrs. Ryder nodded slowly. "I understand, and I don't mean to be so dreary, dear."
"Oh no, it's very understandable and I apologize again for bringing this up."
"It's okay, Miss, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I'd prefer sooner, I wouldn't want anything else happening to anyone." She sighed. "What would you like to know about her?"
She pulled a small notebook out of her coat pocket, and clicked a pen on top of it. "Is it okay if I quote you?"
Mrs. Ryder nodded again.
"Okay, could you please give me some information on the deceased? As of, what was she doing the night she died?"
"She was over here, I was watching her, her parents were on vacation for the week and we were just downstairs watching television."
She scribbled something down on her notepad and looked up. "Then what happened?"
"I got up to check on dinner, and when I came back.she." Mrs. Ryder paused and her eyes got wide, remembering the night with silent clarity. Re-living the moment, so to speak.
Sarah gave her a moment. "Excuse me?"
"She was lying. down on the couch. I could only see her feet from where I was standing in the hallway coming back from the kitchen. But when I called her name she didn't answer. so I got closer."
Sarah nodded.
"Her head was tilted towards the ceiling, and her face." she broke down crying all of a sudden. Sarah didn't know what to do. She was never good around people who were crying. She didn't know whether to hug her or put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.
She stopped crying after a few minutes, though.
"May I ask you one more question before I leave, Mrs. Ryder?"
She nodded. "Of course." She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her eyes with it.
"Where can I reach her parents?"
The lady's eyes got wide. "I'm afraid you can't."
She crinkled her face up in confusion. "Why not?"
"Oh dear, they died the same night my granddaughter did."
She stared at the old woman in shock. "What?"
"They died the same night Amanda did."
Sarah breathed in. "When was that?"
"Three days ago, dear, seven days after they left on vacation."
Sarah gathered up her stuff, thanked the woman, and left.