Apartment of Horrors

Was I overthinking this? Still, something felt off, and I couldn't say why.

I lived in apartment 601. Across the hall in apartment 603 was the guy who'd just texted in the group chat. He lived alone.

The two of us were the only ones living on this floor. He had a short fuse and often complained that people in the building were too noisy, which made him rather annoying.

Through the peephole, I saw the guy in 603 open his door. The officer was at the threshold, speaking to him. After a moment, the guy in 603 stepped back and let the officer inside.

I scrolled through my messages and finally realized what was wrong. By law, responding officers are supposed to arrive in pairs. So why had I seen only one a moment ago? Could someone have been impersonating an officer to gain unauthorized entry into the building?

I was frantic. Was the guy in 603 in danger?

Thunder rumbled faintly outside. Moments later, raindrops began hammering the window, making the panes rattle and ping.

I called the local police station and explained the situation, but the dispatcher said that officers were indeed patrolling our area. Since the killer still hadn't been caught, the department made the area a high priority.

I shot Jacob a text. "Did the police just come by your place?"

He texted back right away. "Yeah... I called the police after I saw the message. They were here a moment ago… They're searching the whole building now."

I let out a breath of relief, so he was the one who called the police. I finally relaxed and even laughed at myself for being paranoid.

Still, it had already been 20 minutes since the police went into apartment 603. The place wasn't that big. Did it really take that long to search one unit?

I shot Jacob another text. "How long were they at your place just now?"

He replied, "About… ten minutes."

I kept counting the minutes, eyes on the thread. And then it hit me. No, this wasn't Jacob.

I swiped up through my thread with Jacob. He never used ellipses, yet the last two messages did. If it wasn't Jacob texting, who was?

Across the hall, the door to apartment 603 opened. The officer stepped out, turned to the resident, and said, "Thank you for your cooperation."

Then, he left by elevator. The guy in 603 was fine. Maybe I was being paranoid again.

Outside was dead quiet when my stomach growled. That was when I realized I hadn't had a sip or a bite since I got home from work.

I flipped on the light and threw some mac and cheese in the microwave. While it hummed, I shot a text to Tom Bancroft.

He used to be our roommate—mine, Jacob's, and Edgar's. Tom was the quiet type. He didn't say much.

I asked Tom to check on Jacob next door. There might have been a killer outside, so it was better not to go out until things were clearer.

Tom's and Jacob's balconies were connected, which meant they could call to each other from there.

Tom replied with an "okay".

A little later, Jacob texted, "I was in the shower, so I could only reply with voice-to-text."

Ah, so that was it. I ribbed him a bit and felt much lighter. I guessed that what happened with Edgar rattled me more than I realized. I'd worked myself into a jumpy, paranoid state.

Even so, the question about the police still nagged at me. Why had I only seen one officer?

I thought it over and still couldn't shake it, so I took out my phone and texted the building manager, Gavin Blanchard.

"Gavin, did any police come by the building today?"

Gavin was new and pretty young. He lived in a little room by the front entrance on the first floor, where he could see everyone coming and going. If somebody walked in wearing a police uniform, there was no way he'd miss it.

He was obviously still up and texted back right away. "Yes. They still haven't caught the killer, so they come by sometimes to do a sweep."

"How many officers visited today?" I asked.

"Just one. I even went with him to a few units on the lower floors. By the way, did you and your friend head out to eat? The officer said there wasn't anyone home at either of your apartments."