Hotspot

Carol hadn’t wanted anything to do with her old man’s business. Taking care of an apartment complex is no easy feat. Sure, it kept money in her pocket, but most of that money went right back into broken appliances. When it wasn’t the washing machine, it was the drier. When it wasn’t the drier, it was the sink. When it wasn’t the sink, it was the toilet. Carol had to keep a list of every messed-up machine in the complex.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the worst part: the tenants. Mrs. Donald’s had five cats that scratched up the furniture and got their hair everywhere. The Linn family had four kids cramped in an apartment that was only meant to hold two people, and then got mad at her for it! As if that was her problem! And that was nothing compared to the college kids who rented out a place two months ago, and who had thrown multiple parties since then.

Carol groaned, slamming her head into her clipboard. The pens on the desk rattled.

Why her? This was not what she had been planning to do with her life. She was supposed to be a veterinarian, not some housekeeper-mechanic. She certainly didn’t deserve to be yelled at by every single age demographic. She lifted her head, a post-it note stuck to her forehead. Carol grabbed it and read the backside.

“Oh, right.” She crumpled the note and threw it in her trash can. “Forgot someone was coming today.” She pushed her chair away from the desk with one hand and grabbed the clipboard with the other. The apartment complex had a small office on the first level, right behind the receptionist's desk. This was where Carol felt safest. If a tenant ever got angry and yelled at her for hours on end, she could retreat here. But now she had to leave the safety of her hidey-hole. It was time to play the waiting game.

She exited the office, passing by reception to stand in the lobby. Carol checked her watch. Would they be on time? Not likely. The woman sighed, resigning herself to a game of ‘count the lines on the floor’, when a couple entered the front doors, laughing as if they’d just heard the world’s funniest joke.

The man was well-tanned, his hair cut very short, while the woman was almost entirely the opposite, sporting terribly pale skin and blonde curls. The woman snorted, trying to control her laughter, while the man brought her toward Carol.

“Hi there, we’re looking for a Miss Carol. We had an appointment with her today.”

“That’s me.” Carol raised an eyebrow as the still giggling woman buried her head in the man’s shoulder. “Are you two the Johnsons?”

“Yes.” The man put a hand over his heart, bowing his head to Carol. “I’m Kyle, and this is Marissa. We’re really looking forward to the viewing today, aren’t we, love?” He slowly pried his wife away from him. Marissa's lips were trembling with every laugh she held back. She wiped her tears away.

“We are, we are. So great to meet you, Carol. Now, shall we?” Without waiting for Carol’s response, Marissa took her husband by the hand and dragged him toward the elevator. Carol blinked, looking down at her clipboard. No, these were the right people. Fantastic. More weirdos that I have to keep up with.

“Carol?” Kyle called, holding the elevator doors open. “You coming?”

“Yes, yes, coming.” She scrambled in after them. As the elevator slowly climbed to the fourth floor, Carol tried to start a conversation. 'Where are you from’, ‘do you like the neighborhood’, ‘have you visited the town’. The couple seemed to dodge every question, only giving her a vague response in return. As soon as the doors opened, she made sure to put some space between her and them.

She showed them to an apartment near the corner of the building. The blue paint was starting to peel off the door. Carol quickly unlocked the door and ushered them inside, hoping they didn’t notice.

Kyle inspected the furniture. He seemed to gravitate toward the old wooden table in the kitchen area. His wife was more focused on the red carpet, running her shoe over a loose string.

Carol forced herself to smile. “Do you not like the carpet, Mrs. Johnson?”

“Oh, I’m more of a fan of natural flooring. But it's…fine.” Marissa moved into the bedroom. Carol put her clipboard over her mouth, silently praying that they wouldn’t run off. She needed the money desperately. A crazy murderer could walk in her doors, and as long as he had the money, she would probably give him whatever room he wanted.

Kyle moved from the table to the small loveseat in the living room. He bent down, looking at the wooden feet before he jumped up. He looked to Carol, eyes shining.

“Is this pine wood?”

“Oh, uh…” Carol pretended to check her clipboard, side-eyeing Kyle. This man is seriously excited about pine, I guess. But if it helped sell the room…“Yes, I believe so.”

Kyle nodded, as if that was the perfect answer. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “You hear that, hon? Pine!”

“I know!” came Marissa’s excited yell. “And it looks like the bedpost is made of ash! This is perfect!”

Carol bit her lip. Really? This will be the easiest sell ever. Her smile came a bit easier to her now. She held out a hand to Kyle.

“I’m liking what I’m hearing, Mr. Johnson.”

“Me too, Miss Carol, me too.” The man shook her hand, pumping their arms up and down. “I think we’d like to rent out this room, please.”

“Great. We can finish the paperwork down in the lobby…”

3 Weeks Later

Carol sat in the back of the ambulance, eyes staring at the monstrous fire that was eating away at the apartment complex. Firefighters were doing their best to douse the flames. No matter how many hoses they had, it didn’t seem to make a difference.

A medic put a blanket around her shoulders before he went off to care for the college students, both suffering from bad burns thanks to the alcohol stockpile in their rooms. Mrs. Donalds was trying to hold four of her cats in her arms, all while screaming the name of the fifth as if she could summon it through sheer will. At least the Linn family had escaped any physical harm. They’d been out watching a movie, only to come back to their home being burnt to a crisp.

Carol coughed. She tried breathing through the blanket, but all she could smell was smoke. A police officer in a fancy cap sat down beside her.

“Are you Carol McKenly?”

“That’s me, yes.”

“Well, Miss McKenly, can you tell me what might have started the fire? Maybe it was a heater left on, some faulty wiring?”

Carol blinked, tears trailing down her chin. The air itself seemed to be on fire. She shook her head a little.

“I…I’m not sure, sir. One second it was fine, the next, the whole building was practically on fire.” The cop glared at her as if she was the one holding the match.

“Miss McKenly, this is the fourth fire we’ve had in this county. Now having a fire every once in a while, that’s natural. But four in a month, all connected to big complexes like this? We don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Carol hugged the blanket around her shoulders. “You have to believe me, I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“We aren’t saying you are. I just want you to tell me if you saw anything strange going on. Were any of your tenants acting weird in the past few days?”

“What, no, of course not.”

“I see.” The officer stood, straightening his cap. “Try to remember what you can, Miss. We’ll be in touch.” He walked off, leaving Carol alone once more. She was huddled in the back of the ambulance, shivering despite the heat, when a passerby ran right into her. She pushed him off, unable to see his eyes under his hood.

“Sorry,” he replied, smiling ear to ear. He pushed a slip of paper into her hands—money? —before continuing his jog. Another hooded figure joined him, laughing despite the fire mere meters away. The joggers paused for a moment to take a selfie before they went on their merry way.

Carol slowly looked down, uncrumpling the piece of paper. Someone had written in very clear handwriting, so it wasn’t hard to read despite the smoke in the air.

‘Thanks for a great time! #4 is our favorite so far!’

As Mrs. Donalds cried out for Snowball the cat, Carol cast one last look over her father’s pride and joy. All her valuable possessions behind turned to ash. Her clothes were gone, her electronics were gone, and her job was gone. And despite all that, she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming wave of relief.

At least she didn’t have to man the apartment anymore.