Eldrich Ainsworth wasn’t who he appeared to be. I was as sure of that as I was my name, which is Julie Koblowski, by the way.
He lived next door to me and my mother. Every morning I watched as he left his house at 7:30 am dressed in a black suit and dark sunglasses. He walked down to the bus stop on the corner of Clover and Pine, where he’d get on the number 5 bus. Then he’d return each evening at precisely 6 pm.
“I don’t trust him,” Mom said.
Which was a riot, because she had terrible judgment in men. From my father to the man who now lived in our house.