Tales of the Storage Space, Part 60

Amelia regretted asking the woman who worked at the storage space for any kind of help the minute that woman picked her head up off the counter and looked up, showing a face full of injuries and tears, but it couldn’t be helped.  What was it about this neighborhood?  Amelia had just seen a beaten-up and pregnant teenager get into a cab.  The poor thing was still vomiting from morning sickness despite a pregnancy advanced enough to show.  Amelia herself had just barely escaped being strangled to death by a mad man who, probably only because he’d let his Rottweiler “Q” outside to pee, had been killed by an extraordinarily handsome young man.  Then this last man, with dazzling green eyes, had died of his own injuries.  But they weren’t why Amelia had walked back to this particular storage space building in the mad man’s bathrobe.

She considered the storage space’s employee behind the counter, then leaned over to brush some blonde hair out of the woman’s tears before asking, “Has anyone been asking after a petulant young woman with dark hair and a nervous tic that twitches her lips?  I’m truly sorry to trouble you at such a time, and I’m sorry I don’t know her last name, but I think she has a storage unit here, and her first name was Jennifer.”

The blonde woman wrinkled her brow in confusion and pulled back from her side of the counter, looking for all the world like she’d been so distracted by her own problems that she’d forgotten she worked there.  Finally she glanced around, eyes widening at the counter between them as if she’d never seen it before, and appeared to get her bearings.  “Why?”

Amelia’s heart was heavy.  She couldn’t help feeling disloyal to poor, dead Jennifer.  Originally Amelia had protected Jennifer by lying to the police that she hadn’t been in that storage space building on a night when she really had, after seeing Jennifer mouth something to herself about being innocent.  Amelia had believed her, the poor thing.  But now that Jennifer was dead and could no longer be hurt by anything…  “The murder that was reported here…”  Amelia looked down at the dingy floor, still unable to shake the irrational feeling that she was being disloyal.  “You must know about it, working here and all.  I need to speak to someone about Jennifer.  I…I may have told the police something about her that wasn’t correct, that might get in the way of their tracking down the real killer.”

Finally Amelia forced herself to look back up at the woman.  Okay, it certainly wasn’t a pleasant subject, but she wasn’t at all prepared for the look of abject fear on the blonde’s face.

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