Chapter 2

Leon Bedeau stood at his apartment door peering through the peep hole. The little girl from down the hall, cradling a grocery bag in one arm, was knocking on his door asking to be let in. He wondered what she wanted. He had never spoken to her. Why was she bothering him? And then he noticed the policeman walking towards her, towards his apartment.

His fingers tightened on the pistol. Why was she causing him trouble? He wanted nothing more than to be invisible. The policeman was getting closer with every passing second. He had to do something. He opened the door as far as the safety chain would allow.

"Please let me in," Matilda whispered, staring up at him through the crack with tears wetting her cheeks.

She was so sexy in her short skirt and striped socks. Leon looked past her at the policeman. He had stopped walking but was staring. A curious policeman was not something Leon craved. His fingers tightened on the pistol he held behind his back. He didn't want trouble with the police and he surely didn't want them asking him questions.

"Please," Matilda said softly, willing herself not to look behind her. "Please let me in."

Matilda groaned when the door closed, clamping her eyes shut. She expected the policeman's hand on her shoulder any moment. But then she heard the chain slide. She opened her eyes and saw the door open. She dashed inside and sighed when Leon closed the door behind her. Outside in the hall, the policeman shrugged and returned to his place in front of the homicide scene.

"Thank you," Matilda said. Her voice was shaking.

"What do you want?" Leon asked.

"My father's dead. I don't know what happened. I went out for milk and when I got back I saw him on the floor in my apartment. I'm sure he's dead. There was a lot of blood and he wasn't moving."

"So what do you want from me?"

She looked up at him. "I don't know. I'm scared. There's a cop inside my apartment who I know. I'm afraid of him. He killed my father."

Leon looked confused but didn't say anything.

"Can I stay here?" Matilda asked.

"No!"

"Please, at least until they leave."

Leon's calculating mind sped through all the scenarios. He looked through the peep hole. The policeman had returned to his station, leaning against the wall, picking at his fingernails. Not wanting to call attention to himself, Leon turned to Matilda and nodded. She let out a loud whew, but she sucked in her breath and held it when he brought his hand to his side from behind his back. She took several steps backwards until banging into the wall.

"Don't hurt me," she said loudly.

"Shhhh. I won't hurt you."

"Wh-Why do you have a g-gun?"

"None of your business. Now go sit down and be quiet."

"Can I put my milk in your refrigerator?"

Leon nodded. Matilda placed her grocery bag on the counter and put the milk and mayonnaise inside the refrigerator. She turned, leaning on the refrigerator and staring at the stranger. Then she sat at the kitchen table and looked around. His apartment wasn't in much better condition than hers.

Leon paced. He alternated between looking through the peep hole and at Matilda. He tapped the gun on the side of his leg.

After around forty-five minutes, Leon turned away from the peep hole and said, "They're gone. Get out."

"Can I stay here?"

"I told you no."

"Why?"

Leon's eyes narrowed. It seemed like a ridiculous question to him. "I live alone."

"I need your help."

"Go to the police."

"I'm afraid to. Please, can't I stay with you? I won't be any trouble."

"Look, kid, I live alone and that's how I like it."

"Why do you have an accent?" Matilda asked.

"I am from France."

"Why do you have a gun?"

"None of your business. Now get out."

Matilda stared at him. She had no place to go, no one to turn to. "I can cook and clean for you. I can help you."

He shook his head. His lips were drawn tight and his face red. His eyes narrowed.

Matilda was desperate. "I'll have sex with you!" she blurted out.

Leon's expression changed and he scanned her from head to toe. She felt dirty, pressing her knees together. As much as she had hated her life before she now longed for it to be the way it was. And then her eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth.

"Bobby!" she screamed. "What happened to Bobby?!" She bolted from the chair, sending it toppling over, and sprinted to the door. Flinging it open, she ran into the hall.

Yellow police tape was strung across her apartment doorway. She unlocked the door and ducked under the tape. She hesitated when she saw the blood on the floor and the outline of her father's dead body. She turned with her back pressed against the wall and walked sideways until past it. Then she ran towards her bedroom. She stopped suddenly. Tiptoeing around Cathy and Joan's outlines, she made a dash for her bedroom. There she found more blood and another outline. It was small. It was Bobby's. She cupped her face in her hands and cried.

"Hey, what are you doing in there?" Leon called from the hall.

Matilda recognized the French accent and retraced her steps to the front door. As quickly as she wiped them away, new tears fell down her cheeks.

"They killed everyone," she said.

"Come back to my apartment. We can talk there. You don't want to be here."

Matilda thought about it. He's right. They could come back. She again stepped around where her father had fallen and ducked under the yellow tape. After locking the door, she followed Leon to his apartment.

Once inside, the tears flowed again.

"Are you crying for your father?" Leon asked.

"I hated him. And I hated his girlfriend and her daughter."

"Then why?"

"Because of Bobby. They killed my little brother. He never hurt anyone. Oh god, he's dead. They killed him."

Leon stepped closer and wrapped his powerful arms around her little frame. She pressed her face to his body and sobbed. His hand caressing her back felt good, but then it slid down and grabbed her ass. Matilda wrestled free and jumped back.

"What are you doing?" she screamed.

His eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together. "You said ... Never mind, get out!"