The Greenhouse Murders By: L.M. Mercer


The Greenhouse Murders
By: L.M. Mercer

 “Looks like a rust stain or water damage. So?” he commented, staring at the stained floor boards.

“That’s what I thought, at first, so I continued with my cleaning. I swept away the dust and after some searching found a mop and bucket. I swear I only used water the first time. On the rest of the floor the water just removed the last remnants of dust, but when I moved the mop over the stain, which was dry to begin with, it got larger.” Unable to remain still, Susan began to pace the width of the room, the tale rushing out. “It was like I was just spreading around a wet substance with the mop and the more I tried to clean it, the farther the stain spread. Then, I looked for some chemical to help clean it up. I found some bleach and mixed it with water and when I came back, the stain had returned to its original size.” She glanced down at the stain with her fists planted firmly on her hips. “How can an old stain grow like freshly spilled liquid and then shrink? Anyway, I mopped the stain again and this time it didn’t spread quite of far and after some serious elbow grease, it disappeared altogether. Thinking I had finally gotten rid of the damn thing, I put the mop, bucket and bleach away. When I returned to the parlour it had returned as well! I bleached that damn spot away three more times and three times it came back,” she cried in frustration brushing hair back from her forehead again.

“Well, I really don’t know what you’re so freaked out about, Susan. There must be some logical explanation, after all. I’m sure there are any number of substances that will leave a stain which will keep coming back, even when bleached out,” Justin said, even though he didn’t sound very confident. He walked over to where he had set down their dinner. “I think it’s been a long day and all of the strange events have begun to take their toll on you. I also think that we both need to eat and get some rest.” He held out her cheeseburger, teasing her with it.

“I’m not being irrational Justin,” she said, in a bit of a huff. “I know what I saw and it has nothing to do with the length of our day or any of the ‘events’ as you called them,” Susan told him, as she paced the room with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Then she stopped and turned back toward him. “But, since my stomach is complaining about the length of time since our last meal and I suddenly feel exhausted, I will eat that delicious smelling food and after you bring in some wood and get the bedding out of the SUV, I will get some sleep.” She sighed and added, “I have a feeling tomorrow will be just as long as today has been.”

 To Be Continued ……

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