Free 314 Book 2 by A.R. Wise

at least one day a week fishing on one of the many lakes that dotted the area. It was mired in local politics, but like most small towns across the country the debates held at city council usually involved property lines and noise complaints, with the occasional argument about outside investment corporations.
    The nearby city of Branson had undergone an explosion in popularity in recent years, bringing with it an unwelcome influx of urban problems. The older generation that lived in Widowsfield did their best to keep their town simple, but the youth were drawn to the excitement of a faster culture. The parents and grandparents knew that the town would eventually succumb to the influence of Branson, but they did their best to cling to a simpler, more comfortable life.
    There was a market on the edge of Widowsfield where most of the town’s residents bought their groceries, but the store also sold a myriad of other odds and ends, such as Bic pens that came in six-count packs. One pack of pens in particular was purchased by the town treasurer, a woman by the name of Amelia Reven, who flavored her conversations with colloquialisms like, ‘She’s got on more makeup than Carter’s got pills.’
    Amelia also had a habit of chewing on pen caps, and would often gnaw them into twisted monstrosities before tossing the entire pen in the trash and getting a new one from the six-pen packs she bought at the local independently owned grocery store. Amelia used to be a smoker, and her new pen-mauling habit was a necessary distraction to keep her from starting again.
    Amelia was a victim of the fog that swept through Widowsfield on March 14th, 1996. They found a pen lodged in her throat.
     
    Nia saw the teeth marks on the cap of the black Bic pen she was holding and knew it had belonged to Amelia Reven. She dropped the pen and it slid down the tilted top of the podium to rest on a lip near the bottom.
    “I’m leaving,” said Nia.
    “What?” asked Mindy. “What’s wrong?”
    Nia put her hands back in her pockets and started to head for the door, determined to touch as little as possible on her way out.
    The door opened before Nia got to it. She expected to see the creepy old man that had greeted them at the entrance, but instead saw a tall, slender young man with a square jaw dotted with black whiskers. He caught her by surprise, and Nia staggered to a stop just a foot away from him.
    “Excuse me,” said Nia.
    “Wait just a moment,” said the man with a pleasant, accommodating tone. He put his hands on Nia’s shoulders and grinned, his teeth gleaming white. “You’re the first person to show promise. I thought this entire trip was going to be a bust.”
    “I just want to leave,” said Nia.
    “Hold up,” said Mindy. “Are you sayin g we won the five hundred bucks?”
    “Possibly,” said the man as he continued to hold Nia. “That depends on what you do next.” He looked directly into Nia’s eyes. He was the same height as Nia, and when he looked at her he kept his gaze steady, as if emphasizing that he was aiming his statement at her. He was nearly a handsome man, but was gaunt and pale, a victim of a bad diet and too much time indoors.
    “I want to leave,” said Nia, although she didn’t speak with conviction, but more like a child pleading with her father to let her come home from school.
    “Are you bonkers?” asked Mindy. “If we won the money, then we’ re going to stick around to get it.”
    “Well, now, this isn’t a contest,” said the man at the door. “It’s more of a job interview. I’m Oliver, by the way,” he let go of Nia’s shoulders and held out his hand for her to shake. She reluctantly took one of her hands out of her pocket to accommodate him.
    “I’m Mindy, and her name’s Nia,” said Mindy after her friend stayed silent for longer than seemed appropriate.
    “Hello, Nia,” said Oliver, still staring into her eyes.
    “Hi,” said Nia, her nervousness evident in her quiet