The Guest Room: Juan Mendez Scott's Mystery Magazine, #8

By Juan Mendez Scott

Doris Osborn is terrified that her home will be involved in the next landslide in the Fort Washington waterside community of Piscataway Hills. The last landslide destroyed over twenty homes, nearly taking them into the waters of Piscataway Creek. Then, her best friend Liana shows up, running for her life from her crazy boyfriend Phil. Doris's husband Preston vows to keep Phil from their home as he loads his gun. Now Doris faces a new fear. Of betrayal. And ultimately murder. But still, something more horrifying awaits the Osborns.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ARCHERY ENTERTAINMENT
• Release date: Oct 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393214366

Juan Mendez Scott

Juan Mendez Scott is an accomplished author with over 20 fiction books to his credit, specializing in the mystery and psychological suspense genres. With a keen eye for detail and an innate ability to create complex characters and gripping plotlines, Juan's novels have captivated readers around the world. Born and raised in Southern Maryland, Juan draws inspiration from the natural beauty and rich history of the region, infusing his stories with a sense of place and authenticity. When he's not writing, Juan enjoys hiking, fishing, and spending time with his family.

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The Guest Room

Juan Mendez Scott's Mystery Magazine, Volume 8

Juan Mendez Scott

Published by ARCHERY ENTERTAINMENT, 2020.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE GUEST ROOM

First edition. October 11, 2020.

Copyright © 2020 Juan Mendez Scott.

Written by Juan Mendez Scott.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

The Guest Room (Juan Mendez Scott's Mystery Magazine, #8)

Also By Juan Mendez Scott

My husband Preston was quiet as usual, not saying much. He just drove his air conditioning truck down route 228 toward Fort Washington, Maryland. Where we lived. After glancing over at him the whole ride he finally noticed and looked over at me.

So you think our house is next? I asked. I was trying not to sound nervous. I’m pretty sure I did.

Preston looked at me, grinned and sort of shook his head. Is that what’s bothering you, Doris? You been quiet the whole ride.

I’ve just been so worried. That’s why I haven’t said much.

Our house is not in any danger at all. Preston picked up the big gulp drink he got from Seven Eleven that morning and shook it. It was ice water by now but he still sipped it. Just the houses on that part of Piscataway Drive. Near the water.

The landslide devastated our neighborhood.

Our Piscataway Hills neighborhood hugged a hillside. A hillside that descended to Piscataway Creek, a tributary of the Potomac River. We peppered government officials with questions last Tuesday night. We drilled them about the landslide that devastated our upscale, waterfront community. Answers that were hard to come by.

I loved the neighborhood so much when we moved there two years ago. Never thought about the fact that falling trees were a habitual hazard. And for years, cracks had opened along Piscataway Drive. I didn’t know that. Until one of the county officials explained it to Preston and I, as we stood amongst a crowd of residents looking for answers.

We were also told that county workers patched the road, but the water and sewer lines broke. The Washington Suburban Sanitary Commission crews did repair the pipes several years ago. But both lines ruptured again last Sunday because of the pressure from the moving soil.

It started last Friday the county official told us. For three days, about 1,500 feet of the hillside slid three feet toward a section of Piscataway Drive. Trees as tall as 200 feet crashed down, dragging power lines with them.

Maybe the land in the whole neighborhood is messed up, I said.

Preston said, "What do you mean?

All the land on Piscataway Hills.

Naw. I don’t think the land in the whole neighborhood’s messed up.

With all those hills and terrains in our neighborhood. I wouldn’t be surprised.

Preston said, Where our house is? I think we’re gonna be fine.

I want to know that when we go to sleep tonight we won’t wake up floating in the middle of Piscataway Creek.

The clouds in the sky were black and swirling. I rolled down the window to get some air, and I could smell more rain coming. As if we hadn’t had enough of it already.

Preston said, Doris, all you need to know is this. The landslide that happened on Piscataway Drive doesn’t affect us. And he sounded so confident. So sure of himself, as always. That was one of the things I loved about my husband. I felt so protected around him.

Preston was 29, short and muscular. He didn’t need the gym. Yeah, he played ball with his boys every now and then. God had just blessed him with the perfect body. He had short, wavy hair and a muscular, clefted chin. People always described him as not friendly and stand-offish. But he was just a man who didn’t say much, who sometimes sung to himself, way out of tune. Singing a lot of the R&B songs from the 80’s and 90’s. He may have been quiet but he could be brave and wordy when he needed to be. And that was one of the things I didn’t like about him, was his quick temper. Which was kind of funny in a way. His quick temper introduced us.

I was a senior at Bowie State College. And my ex boyfriend hit me during one of our many arguments. His name was Zack Harris. Zack, who was tall, clumsy but charming, was pissed with me because I broke up with him. He had the nerve. He was the one who cheated. And on top of that, he tried to talk to my best friend Liana behind my back. Liana and I were hanging out at the The Boulevard at the Capital Centre. An open-air shopping center in Landover, Maryland. That’s where the Capital Centre Arena use to be before the county demolished it. Preston was with two of his friends when they saw Zack and I arguing. Just before he smacked the hell out of me. Preston was trying to explain to Zack that it was wrong for a man to put his hands on a woman. And out of nowhere, Zack just hauled off and punched Preston in the face. Wrong move Zack. Preston rearranged Zack’s charming face, almost killing him. And we’ve been together ever since.

I said, But Preston, how do you know that? How can you assure me of that?

Trust me, Preston said, all the houses above that hill will not be in any landslides. I could see if we were on a hill. Our part of the neighborhood is flat land.

I laid back, putting my feet on the dashboard, trying to relax. Preston took a sip from his ice watery Big Gulp.

I know that soda’s gotta be flat by now, I said.

A li’l bit, Preston said.

When did you get it? On your lunch break?

Yeah.

You got something to eat from Seven Eleven?

Yeah, uh... a half smoke and some hot wings.

You eat fast food every day, don’t you?

Just about.

I can’t see why you don’t take any leftovers for lunch.

I should. Save some money.

You have jobs in Fort Washington sometimes, right?

Sometimes.

Then why don’t go home for lunch?

Preston shrugged. Well, um... I’m so use to eatin fast food for lunch. I don’t know. I should go home for lunch sometimes though. Save some money.

I wish I could go home for lunch, I said.

You could but, you wouldn’t have much time to relax and eat it.

I know. I should start taking leftovers for lunch.

So where’ve you been going to lunch since your car’s been in the shop?

Me and Randa just order out. We get steak and cheese subs. Sometimes chicken subs. A lot of times I just get a salad.

Preston grinned, placing his hand on my thigh and rubbing it. I know you miss your car.

I thought about it. Grinned and shook my head.

While my car was in the shop, Preston took me to work in the mornings, and I rode home with him in the evenings. And I loved it. I loved kicking off my high heels and lying back and relaxing. My sunglasses on and my eyes closed. Listening to The Donnie Simpson Show on 102.3 in the evenings. Him