Page 71 of Range
I lowered the phone and pressed the red button. The call ended. So do my sanity. The brief lapse accompanied a deep yearning. I wanted more of her. Of her voice. Of her nervousness. Of her neurodivergent ways. But, more than that, I wanted her well-rested.
SIX
There.
I stood with my left hand on my hip, admiring the work I’d done. Night had fallen. The stars twinkled in the sky. However, my interest in their beauty was at an all-time low tonight.
I used my right thumb to press the button on the flashlight. The walls that were once covered in Anthony’s bodily fluid showed no signs of distress or struggle. As I lowered the light, a sigh fell from my lips.
We’re going to be a while.
I shoved the light in the pocket of my white suit as I made my way across the room. The power cord of the industrial scrubber wrapped around my arm and shoulder with ease. I plugged theend into the socket and gripped the handles with both hands as a new record began to play in the headphones covering my ears.
I closed my lips, leaving a small circle. A whistle began, matching the tone of the song by Ella Mai. The satisfaction of seeing the suds on the floor, cleansing away the sins of others helped me shut out the world and tap into another side of myself.
The wood on Josiah’s floors were beautiful, but they’d experienced a lot. Pain. Torture. Disappointment. Redemption. Restoration. Anger. Emptiness. Life. Death. I hovered over the spot where Anthony had succumbed to Josiah’s brutality. He deserved every bit of what had come to him.
A slap on the wrist simply wasn’t enough. Neither was a divorce. He was still Aubrey’s father and would find a way to be in her life, somehow and at some stage of it. And, even if not, it would free him of his obligations, but not his debt. He would find another undeserving child after carefully choosing her mother as his new partner.
He’d invest in their trust and secretly shatter it. Men like Anthony didn’t change. They learned from their mistakes and perfected their technique. But, still, they were vile human that didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as children.
I got lost in my own world. It was three and a half hours before I exited and returned to Earth. The machine powered off with one push of a button. Hand on my hip for the fortieth time since entering the residence, I peered at my work.
Good.
Good.
Time was on my side. I’d made sure of it. This job didn’t require the hours I’d spent at Josiah’s crime scene. It was the closeness I felt to him that kept me here. I didn’t question my return. I knew I’d be back. It was understood.
For confirmation of my cleanliness, I removed another chemical substance from my buggy, courtesy of Rugger. I had a lifelong supply. I’d be old and gray before I emptied every bottle.
The fine mist fell onto every surface I passed. The couch. The floor. The table. The counter. The pictures. The walls. The pillows. The chairs. The bathroom counter. Sink. Shower. Floor. And toilet. I made a complete circle, anticipating the presence of blood.
This time, my light wasn’t necessary. No light was. Luminol worked in sheer darkness, reacting with iron in a way that would make it glow in the absence of light.
My wait was in vain. It always was, but it was a step I’d never skip. It was the confirmation I needed to move. To clean the next mess.
Good job, baby. I patted myself on the back as I walked through the beautiful home. There wasn’t a trace of Anthony’s DNA lingering. I’d destroyed it all. That pathetic waste of human space didn’t exist in this home. He never did.
I exitedwith my duffle in my hand. The doors of the white Sprinter parted with ease. One by one, I lifted my machinery into the back, taking trip after trip into the house. After everything was situated, I closed the doors and made my way to the right corner of the back of the vehicle. I pulled the curtain back of the professionally installed changing station.
One piece at a time, I removed my work suit, revealing a pair of barrel jeans and a halter underneath. I traded my sneakers for Tom Ford. I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I fluffed my hair. Still, it was flawless. It hung down my shoulders. The volume was worth every layer that had been trimmed.
My makeup was still intact. Ventilation was a very crucial part of the suit’s design. So was a cooling mechanism thatkept my temperature down as I cleaned. They worked perfectly together, keeping me comfortable during working hours.
To absorb the oily spots in my t-zone, I patted my face with my favorite brown sponge that never left my cosmetics unless it was to replace it with a new one. I cleared the imperfections and tossed the sponge back in. Gloss was next. After retrieving the clear container, I removed the brush and coated my lips.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
And, a fourth.
“There.”
I collected my things, and tossed them into the indestructible clothing bag. The lock was initiated upon pressing both ends together, sealing proof of my involvement with the destruction of Josiah’s evidence. I lowered my cosmetic bag into my handbag and stepped out of the dressing area.
