On Suspicion

The squad car slowed to a halt in front of his house as he stared at it through a gap in the blinds he held open with just two fingers, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. How were they here? There was no way they could have found him. Impossible. Simply impossible.

Maybe they were here for someone else. Maybe they wouldn’t come up to his door. A knock echoed through the house. They were here. What was he going to do? He hadn’t prepped for this; they had told him he would be fine, that they wouldn’t find him. That he’d be safe.

Yet here he was, opening the door for a cop. He said a prayer as the knob turned and he swung the door open to reveal a pair of officers on his porch.

“Are you James Cooper?” the lead officer asked.

Oh god they knew his name. He could feel sweat forming on his brow, joining his already drenched underarms. How did they know his name? What the hell was he supposed to say?

“Why are you here? I didn’t do anything,” he blurted out, with a voice far too shaky for the statement to be convincing.

“Are you James Cooper?”

“I didn’t do anything.” His heart was louder than his voice.

“For the love of—! Are you James Cooper?”

Realizing he had to answer, he squeaked out a “yes.”

“Good lord that was rough,” the cop sighed. “Anyway, we’ve come to give you a ‘thank you’ card for donating to our holiday toy drive. We like to deliver them in person.”

“Oh. Sorry. Thank you,” he said, taking the card from the cop’s hand. He had forgotten his wife donated something in his name as a Christmas present. We don’t need anything, but others do, she had told him—sort of ironic to think about now, after what he’d done.

He watched as the cops returned to their car and pulled away. A relieved sigh escaped him as the door latched shut. He was safe; they hadn’t found him out.

The envelope wasn’t sealed, so he slid the card out with no difficulty. He paid the rainbow letters spelling out “thank you” on the front little mind, more curious to see the message inside. He was greeted by one hand-written line that read:

We’re coming for you.

About the Author

Ryan Everleth is a first year creative writing major and aspiring novelist. He has a soft spot for short stories and flash fiction, writing quick stories that are either deadly serious or absolutely ridiculous--there's no in-between.