Our Serial:
A Will to Kill: Chapter Eight
By Nick Kossovan
Glen tossed the now grease soaked brown paper bag containing the hamburger and fries from Rockin’ Burgers into the garbage bin sitting at the end of Teresa and Josh’s driveway. God knows what eating that would have done to my cholesterol level, thought Glen as he surveyed the neighborhood. Being mid-Monday afternoon, it was, as to be expected, quiet.
Teresa and Josh lived on Hill Crescent, just a few houses east of Markham Road. This was where the Scarborough Bluffs begins to drop off. Those who live of the south side of Hill Crescent, as Teresa and Josh did, had a sweeping view of Lake Ontario.
Glen rechecked his iPhone to make sure he was at the right address Wanda had e-mailed. Noting he was at the correct address, he began walking up the driveway, past the parked silver Lexus LX 570 towards the sprawling ranch-style house with the front door and shutters painted in the most god-awful shade of blue Glen had ever seen.
Glen rang the doorbell. While waiting for Teresa to answer the door, he looked around. The lawn was immaculately kept. The hedge, surrounding the property, had apparently been planted for privacy. In the middle of the front yard was a rock garden, with a dirt-filled wheel barrel and spade, that was a work in progress, and the flower pots standing guard on each side of the porch steps contained marigolds which were drying out to the point their seeds probably could be harvested in a few days.
I wonder if Adrian did any of this landscaping like he did at the Grymski?
Teresa opened the door. Her brown hair swept up into a plastic clasp, further exposing the fact she spent too much time in the sun. Glen could not help to think she looked oxidized.
“Glen?”
“Yes, thanks for agreeing to see me, especially at the last minute.”
“Please come in, we can sit out in the solarium. Don’t bother taking off your shoes, it’s just in the back through the kitchen.”
Glen followed Teresa through her house. While she may appear to be oxidized, the grey leggings she was wearing, attested she made an effort to keep in shape, probably by running.
The solarium offered, as Glen thought it would, an expansive view of Lake Ontario, which he admired for a moment.
“It’s quite the view, I can’t get enough of it,” said Teresa. “Please have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, soft drink or a beer. Josh drinks Heineken, which is what we have.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” said Glen as he took a seat in one of the wicker chairs surrounding the round glass table sitting in the middle of the solarium. Teresa took the chair directly opposite of Glen. Placing both her elbows on the table she leaned toward him.
“Seeing you now I recall having met you at Wanda and Steve’s on a few occasions. I have to admit when you called and told me Wanda gave you my number I was surprised.
To be continued.