Gemotions

“You've got a good eye,” the contractor had told David. He hadn't meant it as a compliment, of course. He’d meant it was the only way to describe how much David knew about fixing up houses. David had bought the place cheap, figuring he'd make some money. He'd ripped up the rotten floors, and rebuilt the walls. He had gutted everything.

A letter arrived in the mail. From the police department. They wanted to speak to him. It turned out, the previous owners, a particularly unpleasant couple, had turned up dead in the house. Years ago. The investigation, they said, was still open. David didn't have to tell the cop the floorboards he found, and tossed in the dumpster that they were the same size as the couple.

He smiled, a slow, deliberate widening of his lips. He returned to his workshop, picking up the new, state-of-the-art power tools he'd just ordered. A small part of him wanted to call the cop, but he thought better of it.