As she proceeded toward the white couch in her living room, she saw evidence that two different hands had touched the couch. One was humongous imprint tainted with blood, and the other looked as if a victim had attempted to grasp the couch like a cat ripping the fabric with its claws.
It might be one of the servants—Tania—who usually comes to clean on Tuesdays, she thought. With her weapon pointed straight ahead, she suddenly moved behind the couch, where she saw a servant’s bonnet resting on the floor. “Tania!” she screamed loudly. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and she felt a little giddy. She felt as if her nervous system was weakening and her brain was slowly shutting down. She quickly lowered her weapon, placed her right hand over her chest, and took a deep breath.
Is this a game? she wondered. My husband Wycliffe is such a prankster. Hmm…that might be it. Plus, I saw his shadow in my bedroom’s window facing the front as I come out of the car.
“Baby! I know it’s you! Stop this scary game. It’s not funny anymore.”
Shalida headed toward the closet located in the hallway and started removing her coat. She opened the door and let out a shrill scream as a dead body fell upon her. Her gun slid from her hand and slipped into the pocket of a white sheep’s fur coat hanging in the closet. “Tania,” she whispered, realizing who it was. She pushed the servant’s body away from her and found her weapon again.