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Murder in the Moonlight
They laughed, stumbling along, the thrill and heat of their newness charging through their veins
Amy took her time getting ready, humming a song she remembered from the past. She picked a dress that she knew Woody liked and spent a few extra minutes on her makeup. Amy wanted to please him. Recently he’d been moody.
It was only a ten-minute walk to his place, past the woods. She left her house, anticipation, and hope in every step.
Woody looked at his mobile again. Almost seven. Amy was late.
He paced his seedy bedsit, beer in hand, frequently checking his phone. She wasn’t answering.
Never-late-always-reliable-Amy.
But tonight was different.
Woody had a plan and started getting antsy. Louise was waiting. His new girl. They were supposed to be going out to celebrate the start of their relationship. He couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms. Feel her body close to his. He was tired of Amy, and this evening he was going to end it.
He tried calling her again. Nothing.
“She’s not coming,” he muttered to himself, slinging his empty beer can at the bin in the conner of the room. Maybe Amy had sensed it, the change in him. But he didn’t really…
